#tyrus red string

[forthedancingandthethriving]

(Inspiration)

Tulip was fully expecting this to be a mess. The manor, even as she rebuilds it, is still the manor. It was a place of coldness and artificialness, the parties held being all about corporate deals and making connections. Never for family or warmth.

So, sending out the invitations was nervewracking. Especially since she'd yet to introduce everyone to the ghosts.

"This would be easier if you guys could fly, like us," Mia, a red-headed, green-eyed, light skinned girl said, her soft blue jacket and brown shorts with brown boots all hanging a bit as the ghost floats and strings up some lights.

"Trust me, we can fly, but only when it's funny," SMG10 remarks with a smile from the ladder she was on, hanging up some wreaths.

Ryan and Nicholas, twins and both looking identical, black hair with green eyes and peach skin, and a brown jacket with a white undershirt, blue jeans, and black shoes spoke in sync. "But it'd be funny now!"

The twins both shriek as Mia and Tyrus quickly flew between the two, both carrying lights.

Tyrus, with his dark brown eyes, fluffy black hair, and coco toned skin, smirked at them. He adjusted his blue hoodie and blue jeans before lighting kicking Nicholas with one of his white boots. "Be nice. This is the first Christmas we've had with people who care about us in a while!"

Mia, a blonde with green eyes, smirks as well. Her black shirt and white jacket, blue jeans, and white shoes all twisted with her as she flew up to the third floor banister and put up lights. "Yeah! This'll be fun!"

10 frowns softly and glances down at Tulip, who had been pacing back and forth for some time now.

"Hopefully."

Tulip exhales shakily, leaning her head back as she continues pacing. She'd sent out invites, but still. Would they even come? Was she getting her hopes up for nothing?

Was she..

○●○

She was wrong.

Everyone had come, and more. It was hard to keep track of every single person, but she did know that everyone she cared about was here.

Meeting Delia and Professor Oak was nice, and when the mother assured Tulip that Tulip was family and she didn't need to worry about them not showing up, the teen nearly broke into tears then and there.

Seeing Frenzy since the whole Union thing was just a bit awkward, but Tulip was sure to assure him that he was more than welcome. It really wasn't his fault, and everyone understood in the end.

Somehow, Ash's flying Pokémon decided that the banisters were good resting places.

There was so much more, like the small little playful argument she had with Laharl over him showing up unannounced, but she was glad to see her friend here. The more the merrier.

As Tulip stands by the couch, where Arle is sound asleep, she smiles. She grabs the blanket she knows Dale has stashed under there for whenever she crashes on it and unfolds it, and rests it over her friend. She walks around and presses her forehead to Arle's for a moment, whispering a soft, "thanks for coming," before she stands up.

She walks over to the staircase and walks up it a bit, and stands and looks out. The house looks warmer, there's actual conversations between people who like each other.

Tulip rubs at her eyes, some tears starting to pool in her eyes.

Sometimes, it was hard to realize that she had people who cared about her now, outside of 7, 10, and Dale. Fuck, it was hard to accept the ghosts cared about her.

But now? Now she had tons of people. People she considered family.

Tulip exhales, some tears falling. She smiles warmly. "Thank you, everyone." Tulip whispers.

[thinkingaboutyoungroyals]

Red String (2/4)

Summary: When T.J. was 8, he read a book about the Red Strings of Fate. And when he was 10, he started seeing strings EVERYWHERE.

A/N: I’ve always loved the idea of being connected to your soulmate with a Red String of Fate. I did a bit of research on them and I’ve read some manga that have it as a theme. So, I took some liberties on how it works here and I’m still figuring it out along the way but I hope I’m able to convey them in a justified manner.

Part 1 Part 3 Part 4

Chapter 2: Blue String

Despite the surprising appearance of a pink string around his pinky, T.J. opted to ignore it. He didn’t want to waste any time wracking his brains trying to figure out why it showed up… or who triggered it to show up.

Besides, he had more pressing matters to pay attention to. Like Math.  

For as long as he could remember, T.J. hated Math. He hated numbers. He hated the way other kids could add, subtract, multiply, and divide like it was second nature but every time T.J. tried, the strange symbols just looked like some kind of alphabet soup, but with numbers.

Somehow, he managed to make it to Middle School, only passing by a hair each time. (He may or may not have become an expert in subtle cheating but that was beside the point.)

But, now, his position on the basketball team was in danger because of stupid Math. And what more was that his teacher decided to assign his black string as his tutor.

T.J. wondered if he hated Buffy, not just because of the number of strings on her fingers, but because she, admittedly, was good at almost everything. But, he would never say that to her face.

“You do know the multiplication tables… right?”

T.J. couldn’t help but glare while feeling a painful pang in his chest. But, he refused to cry in front of Buffy.

“You think I’m stupid?” he accused.

Buffy looked surprised but immediately defended herself, “I never said that.”

She may not have said it out loud but she was thinking it. T.J. knew she was thinking it. Everybody thought he was stupid.

“Well, I am.”

Standing up, he grabbed his backpack, not bothering to take his notebook or textbook with him. It wasn’t like he would need them, anymore. He was stupid at Math and that was a fact.

Without another word to the girl, T.J. practically ran out of the room. His eyes were stinging and his heart was beating, painfully, against his rib cage.

He had to get out of school. To not be reminded of all the things he was lacking in.

His feet took him to the park. Something was tugging him there and he didn’t feel like fighting it that day. The walk kept him calm on the outside, but on the inside, he was still filled with turmoil.

“Legs go up, legs go down. That’s how we make the swing go ‘round...”

T.J. heard him before he saw him and he couldn’t explain the reason why he was drawn to that familiar voice.

Buffy’s friend, the muffin boy, was on the swings, kicking his legs into the air in a gentle manner as he continued to sing to himself.

T.J. wasn’t familiar with the song. Was it made up? That was pretty creative.

Dropping his backpack on the ground, he calmly walked over and placed his hand against the pole.

“Nice song,” he commented before a little kid’s squeal distracted him and he turned to see a little boy sliding down the slide before turning back. “What do you sing when you’re on the slide?”

The other boy had paused while he was distracted, almost looking fearful of him. It bothered T.J.

“We go down, we say ‘yay’,” he sang, immediately. “Don’t climb up, that’s the wrong way.”

How amusing. T.J. felt himself chuckle as he smiled.

“Huh. Did not expect you to have a song for that.”

It appeared to be the right thing to say as the other boy’s face immediately lit up.

“Chocolate-chocolate chip muffin, right?” 

The boy pointed at him. “Scary basketball guy.”

Immediately, T.J. felt his face fall in disappointment. “Actually, T.J.”

The other boy continued to smile, almost teasingly. “I know.” He pointed at himself. “Cyrus.”

And that was how T.J. found himself getting on a swing and kicking himself into the air, feeling the wind rush against his face. For the first time in so long, he felt light. Free.

And Cyrus? He was great company. T.J. could see why he had a ton of blue strings. Cyrus was friendly and sweet. He had a way with words that could ease T.J.’s anxious thoughts and relieve him of the tension in his body. He had T.J. feeling like a little kid again, with no worries, no “stuff”. Just a normal kid on the swings with a friend.

And despite Cyrus claiming that he was scared of swinging higher, T.J. discovered that with just a little push (both literally and figuratively), the other boy wasn’t opposed to dancing with danger (as he so proclaimed it being on his bucket list just days prior). He was insecure but, really, what kid their age wasn’t? T.J. had his own insecurities, though he would never tell anyone.

He felt the tug on his middle finger before he heard the “Cyrus! You okay?!”

Buffy was running up to them and T.J., though he felt like a coward for doing so, tried to run away.

But Cyrus stopped him, insisting that Buffy was really cool. Of course he would say that! They were friends. Their friendship ran so deep that they were connected with a blue string!

Unfortunately, staying back just an extra minute to thank Cyrus for his help allowed Buffy to catch up with him.

“Cyrus, can you give us the playground?” she asked the other boy.

“Yeah, you know where to find me.” Cyrus, then, turned to him with a kind smile. “And so do you.”

T.J. felt his lips twitch in response, threatening a smile as Cyrus walked away.

His good mood immediately dampened as soon as Buffy started talking to him. And what more, she decided to web-diagnose him with a learning disability?! As if he didn’t have enough problems already?!

He was so angry and upset that he didn’t even notice the tingling in his fingers.

It wasn’t until he was attempting, for the millionth time, to do his Math homework that he saw it.

A new blue string was wrapped around his previously empty pointer finger.

..........

It didn’t take T.J. too long to figure out who was on the other side of that new blue string.

He had been talking to a classmate about a group project for English when he felt the tug.

It was followed by a ���Hey, not-so-scary basketball guy!”

Immediately, T.J. ended his conversation with the kid and turned to greet Cyrus.

“Hey, Underdog! What’s up?”

Clear as day, a light blue string hung between them.

And it meant only one thing…

“If I could get an RSVP ASAP, I think I can get you into my Bar Mitzvah parteee,” the boy cutely stated.

He handed over a heavy envelope and T.J. could hardly believe that it was really for him as he stared at it for a moment. He rarely got invited to his peers’ events unless their parents forced them to. But, his name was right there, scrawled at the center of the envelope in a neat cursive.  

Cyrus was personally inviting him to a party. Cyrus saw him as someone worth having at his special day of all days. Cyrus saw him as a friend.

Looking up at the other boy, T.J. smiled and gave him a short nod. “I’m there,” he replied, coolly.

He had a friend. A real, genuine, blue string friend. He was so happy.

..........

As T.J. watched Buffy tear it down the basketball court as the crowd cheered her name, he felt his black string tighten even more. His team was out there, dominating…without him! And all because he failed his last Math test!

And he hated the feeling. He felt useless. A loser.

“You’re not playing?”

T.J. looked up at him, glaring as he felt his anger flare. “Nothing gets past you,” he said, sarcastically.

The other boy frowned. “I’m not here as a punching bag. I’m here to see if you’re okay.”

Normally, he would feel touched at that. Cyrus was his only real friend, after all. His blue string was still tied around T.J.’s finger. It didn’t disappear like T.J. initially thought it would.

But, his anger and insecurities were all at the forefront. He ended up snapping at the boy, instead.

“How about...you’re not here at all?” he sneered before walking away, ignoring Cyrus’ concerned looks.

That boy didn’t deserve a friend like T.J. He didn’t deserve to be tied to him. He deserved better.

He found himself leaving the gym and grabbing a snack from the vending machine.

As he watched a bag of cheese puffs fall from their perch, he felt the tug on his blue string.

The door opened and Cyrus appeared beside him.

“Eating your feelings?” the other boy stated, casually before smiling. “I do that!”

T.J. felt annoyed but he didn’t have the heart to push him away a second time.

That was how he ended up telling Cyrus about his possible learning disability: dyscalculia. He felt so ashamed and he hated feeling so less than. There were so many things about himself that he didn’t understand.

Why couldn’t he do simple Math?! Why was his brain wired differently from everyone else?! Why did he have to be different?!

But, with just a few words, Cyrus made the worries about dyscalculia disappear, even for just a moment. With just a few words, he made sure T.J. knew that nothing was wrong with him. That he wasn’t different.

If only Cyrus truly knew about his ability to see the Strings of Fate. Would he think differently of him then? Something told him that Cyrus wouldn’t care. Maybe he would even find it cool. But, should he tell him?

In the end, he decided not to.

“She may have been right, but you’re the one who really helped me,” he told the younger boy.

Cyrus broke into a small smile, blushing almost, like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

They talked for an hour before Cyrus realized the time and decided that he needed to get back to Buffy.

T.J. felt almost disappointed but knew that Buffy’s blue string with Cyrus was far stronger than his ever would. She was probably unknowingly tugging on it without realizing.

As he got up to throw away the trash (between the two of them, they finished an entire bag of cheese puffs and two packets of cookies), his pinky finger caught his eye.

Curiously, he brought it closer to his eyes, examining it.

Was it just him or was the string getting longer? That was different.

..........

Sometimes, T.J. would lie awake in bed at night, just staring at his strings. Specifically, he would stare at Cyrus’ blue string.

A lot had happened ever since that fourth blue string appeared. And, every day, with no fail, T.J. could feel it getting stronger…firmer. Even the color was getting brighter, a calming blue that reminded him of the sky.

Cyrus was sadder these days, though. Buffy had moved away and T.J. felt guilty for not patching up before she left. The black string felt less tight but didn’t completely go away. He wondered what it would take for it to disappear.

And, then, that pink string. And he still hadn’t figured out who made it appear. He thought he would know since he figured people knew who they ended up liking and falling for, but he truly had no clue. (He added that little tidbit to his notes.)

Absentmindedly, he tugged on the blue string around his pointer finger.

Not even a minute later, his phone ping-ed with a text.

Hi! Watcha up to? Cyrus texted.

Smiling, T.J. texted back. Nothing much. Staring at my ceiling. Wbu?

Ooohh, must be an interesting ceiling. Taking a break from studying. History test tmrw.

Ouch. U got Carter, rite?

Yep. He’s a nightmare.

Sorry 2 hear that. But I’m sure you’ll do great.

Wish Buffy was still here. We always study 2gether.

At that, T.J. sighed. He wished there was something he could do.

Pursing his lips, he typed a respond. Well, I’m decent at history. Want me to help?

Heart pounding, he anxiously waited for Cyrus’ reply.

It arrived quickly. Will you really? I don’t have history ‘til 6th period but I have study hall at 4th.

I have class 4th period but I can meet you at lunch, if you don’t mind spending an hour of your life with me.

T.J. sent the text before realizing how it sounded. It sounded so…flirty. Was that an okay thing to send a friend?

Before he could send a follow-up, Cyrus had responded.

Sounds perfect! I’ll see you there! Got 2 get back to studying!

Feeling giddy, T.J. replied, Okay! See u 2morrow!

He put his phone away now and laid back down on his bed, sighing. He raised his hand up again, looking at his strings. The sight of them used to dampen his moods, reminding him that he was someone unworthy of having a real bond with, since he had so few.

In fact, Cyrus had a lot, most probably from his family and a couple of good friends. T.J. knew of Buffy, Andi, and Jonah and T.J. was sure he had other friends as well because he was just that great of a person. He even had a red string, granted it was broken, but still. He wondered who was on the other end of that string. Such a shame that person didn’t return the other boy’s affections, Cyrus was a great guy.

Because of him, T.J. didn’t really feel jealous of other people’s strings anymore. He had all the important ones wrapped around his fingers (except for Buffy’s black string, of course, but he was working on that).

His gaze went to the pink string that seemed to be getting longer and closer to red day by day.

That string was still such a puzzle to him. It changed everyday. But, what did it mean?

Tag list: @oreo-275 @mrsirwinson

@imonlyhereforjoshuarush @illbeyourreasonwhy @completelysterling @cytriclemon @luckyharmonydragon36245 @cxrus-kippen @booklove-2 @tyrusinarush @luckyharmonydragon36245 
 @petra-dragneel

If I missed you on the tag list, please let me know in a message! I’ll gladly add you!

[secretly-art]

[image ID: a digital drawing of TJ and Cyrus swinging on a swingset together. Their hands are connected by a red string and a blue string, and each boy also has blue strings extending from his other hand, with Cyrus having many more than TJ. The background is filled with swirling lighter blue strings.]

“What I’m trying to say is… Cyrus… you’re my red string.”

Andi Mack Ship Week ~ Day 3: Favorite AU

This is inspired by Red String, a wonderful fic by @thinkingabouttyrus in which TJ can see the red strings of fate. I highly recommend it!

[tabloidtoc]

National Enquirer, December 30

Cover: Prince Andrew disowned and penniless and disgraced, Prince William tells Prince Andrew that he’s killing Queen Elizabeth 

Page 2: Chip and Joanna Gaines are trying to get their parents to talk to each other 

Page 3: Balding Whoopi Goldberg’s big hair scare 

Page 4: Relapse fears for Polio survivor Robert Redford, surgery for Savannah Guthrie’s torn eye 

Page 5: The Bachelorette star J.P. Rosenbaum fighting a rare paralyzing disease called Guillain-Barre syndrome, Kelly Ripa went under the knife to shorten her earlobes after earrings had ripped her skin 

Page 6: John Travolta could have been killed when a rogue worker supplied sketchy explosives to the set of the movie The Poison Rose last year, Steve Harvey stuck in another pageant mess after messing up the announcement for Best Costume 

Page 7: Fox News host Britt McHenry charges the network and a co-host George “Tyrus” Murdoch with sexual harassment, Harvey Weinstein and 30 of his accusers reach $25 million settlement 

Page 8: Brittany Murphy murder cover-up 

Page 9: Sandra Bullock and Bryan Randall sleep in different rooms, stress over his new movie and tension with wife Amal Clooney make George Clooney hell to be around 

Page 10: Hot Shots -- Katy Perry gifted with outfits for her dog, Matthew McConaughey and Hugh Grant take a selfie, Neil Patrick Harris and husband David Burtka decorate for Christmas 

Page 11: Alan Jackson and wife Denise celebrated their 40th wedding anniversary but the star admits it’s a miracle they reached the milestone after he fessed up to cheating in 1998, cash-craving Wynonna Judd wants to tour with her ailing mom Naomi Judd 

Page 12: Straight Shuter -- Rosario Dawson at Art Basel in Miami, Justin Theroux’s rescue dog Kuma has a 24/7 sitter, Celine Dion is devastated after sales of her comeback album Courage plummeted 95 percent, replacing Gabrielle Union on America’s Got Talent won’t be easy because the public is on Gabrielle’s side and the young lady who takes the job will look as if she’s betraying Gabrielle, SNL castmates have turned on Pete Davidson because he’s a second-string player and acts like he’s Eddie Murphy 

Page 13: Gwyneth Paltrow and Goop are pushing a personal vibrator shaped like a candy cane, Kylie Jenner is turning her back on numerous invites to hang with her sisters and it’s rubbing them the wrong way, Carrie Underwood is giving her retired hockey player husband Mike Fisher’s singing career a kick-start by offering him a tryout as her backup singer 

Page 14: True Crime 

Page 15: William Shatner dumps his wife Elizabeth less than a week after her brother died of a heart attack, Sean Penn promised a stripper a part in his film The Crossing Guard and he had to pay her $7000 to honor the deal 

Page 16: Real Life 

Page 18: What Shocked & Rocked in 2019 

Page 26: Cover Story -- Disowned Prince Andrew on suicide watch 

Page 28: Jeffrey Epstein’s New Mexico ranch may spill more sick secrets 

Page 29: How to make 2020 your best year ever 

Page 30: Health Watch 

Page 36: Leonardo DiCaprio’s mom is afraid he’ll let Camila Morrone get away, Beyonce and Jay-Z are battling over revelations in the new books Made in America about Jay’s youth, Hollywood Hookups -- Chris Bukowski and Katie Morton split, Emma Stone and Dave McCary engaged, Charles Melton and Camila Mendes split 

Page 38: J. Edgar Hoover ordered the death of John Lennon 

Page 42: Red Carpet Stars & Stumbles -- Karen Gillan, Lucy Liu, Carrie Underwood, Dwayne Johnson 

[thirteen-beaxhes]

So here’s part 2 of your gift @stephadoodles! The Tyrus half! Hope you like it!

(Fic under the read more)

“Okay, we get it, you’re a couple,” Cyrus groaned, rolling his eyes as Buffy and Andi stopped their little compliment battle to look at Cyrus. Buffy tossed a baby tater at him while Andi just laughed softly, holding Buffy’s hand on the table.

“We can’t help it, Cy,” Andi said, shaking her head slightly. “But we just got together!”

“Yeah! How can you expect me to stay away from this angel and not remind her how much I am fond of her,” Buffy added, as Andi leaned in to kiss her on the cheek. An action that elicited another groan from Cyrus as he buried his head in his hands.

“Whoever was responsible for this, could they turn on their location? I just wanna talk,” Cyrus said through his palms. Andi laughed at that, but something caught her eye from behind him and she smiled sneakily.

“Well, you’re lucky cuz they just walked into the Spoon,” she said, and Cyrus turned around to see who it was and immediately whipped his head back forward.

“Hey guys,” TJ said as he slid into the seat beside Cyrus. Buffy just sipped her milkshake, desperately trying to hide her smile, while Andi just raised her eyebrows cheekily at Cyrus.

“Hey TJ,” Cyrus said, cursing himself as he felt his cheeks go red. TJ smiled at him, immediately stealing one of Cyrus’ baby taters and popping it in his mouth.

“Hey Underdog,” he said happily, then looked over across at Buffy and Andi, noticing the lack of space between them and their hushed conversation. “So, they finally got together huh?”

“Yup,” Cyrus said, popping the ‘p’. “I’m gonna kill you for that by the way,” he said, turning to TJ.

TJ pouted innocently, looking at Cyrus with the puppy dog eyes that Cyrus hated himself for being so fond of. "Aw, why is that Underdog?"

"Because now I'm the one who has to third wheel around them! I don't think I could survive."

"Well, then you could, not, third wheel."

"Oh, yeah I don't really have any other friends, Teej, that wouldn't work," Cyrus said, rolling his eyes as he took a sip of his milkshake. But he looked back at TJ, who was looking at his very curiously, an unreadable expression on his face.

"What?"

"That's not what I meant, Cy."

Cyrus narrowed his eyes in confusion. "What did you mean then?"

TJ opened his mouth, about to say something, but then he glanced down, shaking his head slightly. "Never mind," He mumbled, popping another baby tater into his mouth.

And conversation moved swiftly on, but Cyrus was still left, wondering in confusion.

What the hell did TJ mean?

*

"You should tell him," Buffy said, as she sat on the bench, packing up her things.

"What?" TJ asked, high giving the team members who passed by, looking back at Buffy.

Buffy just looked up with raised eyebrows, and TJ sighed.

"I know, I know I just, I haven't decided how," He said, looking at his shoes.

Buffy sighed, getting up and placing a reassuring hand on TJ's shoulder. "Well, if you need help, I'm right here. I can no longer handle your endless pining after him."

TJ laughed quietly, playfully shoving Buffy in the shoulder as they both grabbed their gym bags and walked away from the basketball court in the park. But soon, as they fell into step, TJ was deep in thought. And finally it struck him. He knew what to do.

“Hey Buffy,” TJ said, turning to look at her.

“Yeah?” she asked, narrowing her eyes.

“About helping out...”

*

“Andi, why are you doing this?” Cyrus groaned, as Andi pushed him out of his room and down the stairs, forcing him out of his house as she cheerily waved at his parents.

She just laughed, linking her arm with his and walked down the sidewalk. The sun had set a while back, and stars were beginning to twinkle in the sky, like glitter on navy blue velvet. “Do I need a reason to want to take my best friend to my house?”

“Yes.”

“Excuse me? So I’m not supposed to ask why you call me randomly to your house, but you can?”

“Glad to see you’re understanding.”

Andi rolled her eyes, punching Cyrus in the shoulder as they made their way down Andi’s street.. But suddenly, she stopped and turned slowly towards Cyrus.

“I need to cover your eyes,” she said slowly, and Cyrus immediately started shaking his head vehemently.

“Okay, I knew it, you’re about to sell me for off-the-market art supplies. I always knew this day would come,” Cyrus said, dropping dramatically to the ground on his knees. Andi laughed maniacally, pulling Cyrus up by the elbow.

“Mwahahaha, good luck Cyrus, this is the end!” she said,and the two of them collapsed into laughter. Andi wiped a tear from her eye, before she smiled at Cyrus. “Okay, but I’m serious. Come here,” she said, holding out an eye mask. Cyrus just sighed and let her put on the eye mask.

Now being led by blind (hehe) trust in Andi alone, Cyrus just let himself be led forward. He tried asking why on earth was this surprise so elaborate, but Andi just shushed him the entire time. Eventually, she led him to a bench, where he felt his way and sat down, pulling off the blindfold after 5 minutes.

Andi was nowhere to be seen. When his eyes adjusted to the dim lighting, he noticed that he was sitting on the bench near the swings. The swings he and TJ frequented.

Could it be?

No, no way.

“Hey Underdog.”

Cyrus turned to his left, smiling slightly as he saw TJ walk up to him, laughing softly as he noticed TJ wearing the blue hoodie from his bar mitzvah, with his face plastered on it.

“I cannot believe you kept that.”

“What, this?’ TJ said, looking down at the hoodie. “It’s one of my favourite ones,” he smiled, sitting down beside Cyrus. He was holding a packet, wrapped up in brown paper and tied with a string. And attached to it was a note.

Cyrus raised his eyebrows. “What’s that?” he asked, nodding his head in the direction of the package.

“Here, open it,” TJ said with a nervous smile, holding it out to Cyrus. Cyrus took it, gingerly untying the string and tearing open the paper. And in it, was a copy of ‘Aristotle and Dante Discover the Secrets of the Universe’, and he laughed.

“But I’ve already read this,” Cyrus said, smiling sadly.

“I’m sure you haven’t read this version,” TJ said, his voice quiet as he bit his lip nervously.

Cyrus furrowed his eyebrows, opening the book to the title page, and he gasped.

There, just under the title, in green pen, were the words, ‘I like you, Cyrus Goodman. And you’re the most important person to me’.

“What’s this?” Cyrus asked, his voice barely louder than a whisper.

“It’s true,” TJ said with a teary smile. “I like you, Underdog. A lot.”

Cyrus smiled, letting out a small laugh, unable to do anything other than hold the book like it was a delicate vase. TJ looked down, wiping his nose.

“You and I have had a lot of ups and downs, and a lot of it has been my fault. And I just know, that I’m gonna mess up again, how much ever I try not to. So, I wanted to give you something that you could look at, you could hold, to remind you that no matter what happens, you mean so much to me. And I like you. Even if you don’t feel the same, I just needed to say it.”

“Teej,” Cyrus whispered, looking down at the book and then back up at TJ. He didn’t need anything more to lean in and kiss TJ, capturing his lips in his own. It made sense that it was the best way he could express how he was feeling.

As they pulled away, Cyrus bumped his nose against TJ’s. “I like you too, TJ Kippen. More than you could ever imagine.”

 ~~~~~~

I really hoped you liked your gifts! And thank you to @swingsetboys for organising this exchange!

- Smriti

[you-get-to-exhale-now-cyrus]

#3 of the winter prompt for tyrus

((you got it!! 3. “You. Me. Snowman. Now.”))

Word Count: 1,463

At precisely 5:34 AM, all the phones in the Goodman household starting ringing. Cyrus groaned, putting a pillow over his face before realizing what that meant. As quick as his tired body could manage, he leaned over and answered his phone.

“Hello, this is a prerecorded message from Jefferson Middle School. Tomorrow, there will be no school due to the weather. School will reconvene the following day,”

The other phones were turned off after a minute, followed by a string of complaints from his parents (”Why can’t they just send a text the night before,” he heard Norman grumble).

Sighing happily, he grabbed a blanket from the foot of his bed, wrapped it around himself, and padded towards his window. Was it a bad idea for him to be opening his window at 5:37 AM just to see some snowflakes? Probably. Did he do it anyways? Yes.

It was beautiful. Millions of white flecks dotting the sky as they hurried towards the ground. One landed on his finger, and he pressed it into his palm, allowing it to melt. Ever since he was a little kid, his parents had told him that all snowflakes were wishing opportunities. He pressed his palm to his heart and made his wish.

I wish TJ would like me back.

The next time Cyrus woke up, it was almost nine o’clock. Morning sun rays spilled through his blinds, causing him to squint as he got up. His lawn, along with his neighbors’, was covered in a thick blanket of snow. The wheelbarrow that held leftover dirt was nowhere to be seen, probably engulfed by the snow. Beaming, he grabbed his phone and texted TJ.

[Me]: did u see the snow??? its crazy

He scrolled through some older conversations he’d had with the other boy, and they made his heart soar. He counted every heart emoji that TJ used (13 within the past few days), and every keyboard smash (30, again within the past few days).

[TJ

[TJ

Cyrus smiled, flopping back on his bed.

Thirty-one.

“Make sure you come inside when you get cold! I’ll have cocoa ready!”

“I will!”

Cyrus waddled out of the house in a thick parka, a scarf, a pair of bulky gloves, snow pants, a knitted hat, and boots. One wrong move and he’d go tumbling down and wouldn’t get back up.

“Hey, Underdog!” A familiar voice chirped, kicking some snow out of his way, “ready to make a snowma–what are you wearing?”

Cyrus rolled his eyes playfully. “Snow attire, something you are clearly not cultured in,” he pointed out. TJ sported a thin hoodie, with finger-less gloves and a beanie. Sneakers were where his boots should have been, and no snow pants were seen.

“How you wound me,” TJ sighed dramatically, placing a hand over his heart, “but seriously, you look like a store than ran out of mannequins, so they put every thing on one,”

Cyrus would have crossed his arms, but his jacket was too bulky, so he opted for putting them on his hips. “I came outside to build a snowman, not to be ridiculed for the fashion efforts of my parents,”

TJ put his hands up in mock defense. “Okay, okay, you got me. Now,” he took a breath, a silly grin splitting his face, “do you wanna build a snowman? C’mon let’s go and play,” he sung, flailing his arms dramatically in an attempt to dance.

It took a moment for Cyrus to process the sheer amount of cuteness before him, but when he finally came to his senses, he gave in to TJ’s singing.

“I never see you anymore, come out the door, it’s like you’ve gone away!” he continued, his voice cracking near the end, ducking his head.

“We can’t all be talented singers like me,” TJ commented, earning him a shove from Cyrus.

“What happened to building snowmen, Kippen?” Cyrus joked, narrowing his eyes.

“I’d rather just listen to you try to sing. It’s cute,” he replied smoothly, silently cursing himself for not bringing a scarf to hide his blush.

“…shut up,” Cyrus responded quietly, rocking back and forth on his heels.

“I’m serious,” TJ told him, grabbing a handful of snow from the ground and forming a little ball, “you look so cute when you-” he cut himself off, throwing the snowball at Cyrus and watching it fall apart, allowing it to dust his face.

“Hey, no fair! You can’t distract me like that! You didn’t even start a formal snowball fight!” Cyrus pouted, a few loose snowflakes falling from his eyelashes.

TJ shrugged, smirking at the shorter boy. “Life’s not fair, Underdog. You just gotta get used to it. And it hurts like hell sometimes, but you get the cards you’re dealt,”

“…are we still talking about snowball fights?” Cyrus asked, tugging at one end of his scarf.

TJ merely shrugged again, walking over to one of the benches the Goodmans had. “I mean,” he started, dusting off the seat so he could sit down, patting a seat for Cyrus, “sometimes I feel like the odds are stacked against me,”

Cyrus frowned, slipping off his gloves and shoving them inside his pockets. “Why do you say that?”

TJ scoffed, absentmindedly taking Cyrus’ hand in his. “Well, considering I’m gay, I feel like I’m starting at square negative five,” he mumbled.

Cyrus squeezed his hand. “Hey, we’re talked about this. It doesn’t matter what other people think about you. There are so many people that care about you and–”

“Wait,” he interrupted, pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers, “it gets worse because…shit, why is this so hard,” he grumbled, puffing out a breath of air.

“Whatever it is, you can tell me,” Cyrus assured him, meeting TJ’s icy blue eyes with his warm brown ones.

“See that’s the thing, I can’t tell you. I can tell literally anybody but you,” he sighed, releasing Cyrus’ hand and rubbing his temples.

Hurt. That’s how Cyrus felt. “Wh-how come you can’t tell me? But you can tell other people? Did I do something wrong?”

“No,” he replied quickly, “I mean…sort of. Not on purpose,” he supplied, a frustrated breath coming out of his nose and creating a small white cloud.

Cyrus willed himself not to cry; it was too cold and he was worried that his tears would freeze. “..I’m sorry, I guess,” he whimpered, pressing his bare hands onto his eyes and rubbing at the furiously, “for whatever it is I did,” he muttered, standing up.

A few snowflakes landed in his hand, and he clenched it into a fist. I wish TJ would tell me what’s wrong. I wish that whatever I did wrong I could correct.

As if TJ could read his thoughts, he sprung to his feet. “There’s nothing you can to,” he started, bracing himself, “it’s not your fault that I fell for you,”

Silence. The worst sound of them all.

Cyrus glanced up at TJ, trying to meet his gaze, but the boy’s eyes were shut tight. “…like-”

“I like you, dammit,” TJ huffed, opening his eyes and kicking at the snow under his feet, “and you make it so hard for me not to do so. Every time you hold my hand, or tell me that I’m enough, or cheer me on at my basketball games, I just fall harder and harder. And I sucks, because yeah, I know you like guys, but why on earth would you like this guy,” he pointed to himself, sighing dejectedly.

“TJ,” Cyrus began, taking his scarf off and placing it around TJ’s neck so he could still pull on the edges. He tugged him closer, nearly stumbling over his boots that were too big for him.

“I like you too…dammit,” he whispered, a tiny breath of moisture appearing between them. Giving the scarf one last tug, he pressed his lips against TJ’s eliciting a squeak from the taller boy.

Cyrus could audibly hear TJ take in a breath after they pulled back. His cheeks were a deep shade of red, and that was definitely not only because of the weather.

“Wow,” he murmured, taking Cyrus’ hand and intertwining their fingers, “I can get used to that,”

Cyrus smiled warmly, nodding over to his house and beckoning for TJ to follow. “Me too,” he replied.

As they walked, a few snowflakes accumulated in Cyrus’ free hand. He almost made another few wishes, but he took a look to his right. Seeing TJ there, holding his hand, and smiling because he was happy to be with Cyrus, he wiped his hand on his snow pants. He didn’t need any wishes; he had everything he ever wanted right here.

tag list:@shortstackofpeaches || @seanna313 || @geekingbeautytx || @heavenlybyers || @ghostswasp || @wlwandimack || @giocondasstuff || @lemonboytyrus || @adorejrizzle || @swingsetboys || @ifellintotyrushell || @idk-dude-17 || @rbf-lesbian ||​ @marianara-sauce || @kaptainjinxz || @alex-poster-pizz

[tj-and-cyrus]

tj comforts cyrus after he sees andi kiss jonah at open mic night. doesn’t have to be romantic tyrus

but anon, ima make it romantic. anyways uh disregard every interaction between tyrus after the j*ndi kiss; because they get together in this, thanks bye. canon divergence time fellas. I accidentally made this a tad angsty and also sprinkled in jealousy oh no. also its 12am n im too tired to edit tonight ill do it tomorrow on ao3 lmfao.

meet me in the park.

AO3

TJ was almost terrified to make eye contact with him. They sat on the swings, as they had weeks before, and a couple times after that. TJ had been excited to see Cyrus come walking over, until he got close enough to see the look on his face. Cyrus had been going off on a ten minute rant about Andi and Jonah kissing back at open mic night in Red Rooster Records. TJ listened intently the whole time, but with every piece of Cyrus’ mind that fell from his lips, his heart sank down a little further.

Cyrus definitely sounded like he was jealous.

“…Why is it weird?” TJ had asked him.

“Maybe because they’re my friends? I don’t know. I’d probably understand if I had actually kissed someone before.” Cyrus stopped talking, and wanted to slap himself for ever opening his mouth.

TJ’s tone didn’t change. “You’ve never kissed anyone before?” 

Why not? You’re too cute for no one to have liked you. I can’t be the only one.

“Is that bad?”

“No.”

“Well,” Cyrus bit his lip, hesitating. “I did…once. A couple months ago, I think. Amber introduced me to this girl– Iris– and we ended up dating for like a week. We kissed at some point. It was awful, I don’t remember it too well.” He shifted uncomfortably on his swing, his hands gripping the chains rather awkwardly.

Why are they sweating?

“Huh. She never told me any of that.” TJ paused, going back over his memories of ‘mean Amber’, that weren’t too difficult to recall. “Come to think of it, all she did back then was complain about Andi and all of her exes.” Cyrus laughed, and caused a smile to come to TJ’s face. Cyrus noticed, and found himself wishing he could see it more often.

Cyrus’ own smile vanished when TJ spoke up again. “Cyrus? Are you jealous?” His head snapped to meet TJ’s gaze, where he was staring right at him. He shut his eyes so maybe when he opened them, TJ would have disappeared. He opened them after a moment, when he realized that he really didn’t want him to leave. He’d heard that question before. With Buffy, when he first told anyone that he liked a boy. That he liked Jonah. But maybe things had changed since then.

“I think I used to be.” TJ tilted his head at this, confused.

“I guess,” Cyrus paused, and drew in a deep breath. He considered his next words carefully. “…maybe, I thought…I’d be the one to have…Jonah…like…me…back.” He voice grew quieter with each word, and he simultaneously hoped TJ had and hadn’t heard Jonah’s name leave his mouth.

TJ felt frozen. He was relieved, but also could have vomited. Because Cyrus liked a boy. His crush liked a boy.

And it wasn’t him.

“Cool,” A voice in TJ’s brain was screaming at him, berating him for shutting down like he always did. But he almost made himself vulnerable, he made Cyrus vulnerable; and in the end it just fucked everything up.  

Because Cyrus didn’t like him.

I’m an idiot.

“Great story, underdog, but I think I should be going.” He stood up, shoving his hands in his pockets; and turned his back to the swingset, so the other boy wouldn’t see him trying to blink back tears.

Cyrus voice was soft, but it cut so sharply into TJ’s ears that he almost bolted and ran home right there. “TJ…” He knew Amber would be pissed if he did. He’d shared too much of his feelings for Cyrus with her since the day they first hung out at the park. She had been pushing him to say something for weeks now.

TJ could feel his legs shaking now, threatening to give way beneath him. Why couldn’t he handle being open for ten fucking seconds? He hadn’t even said anything, all he had done was ask Cyrus a question.

“TJ,” Cyrus repeated, more serious. The other boy had to force himself to turn around and look him in the eyes. TJ was thankful the dark would be hiding the deep red painting his face right now.  “I don’t like Jonah anymore, if that’s what you’re worried about.” He watched as TJ’s eyes widened.

“How did you–?”

“All four of my parents are shrinks,” Cyrus reminded him, only half joking about it. “I’m going to be honest though, my romantic feelings for people are…really messy,”

“Mine aren’t.” TJ bragged, shrugging his shoulders.

Cyrus raised an eyebrow, and finally got up from his swing. “Oh, they’re not, are they?”

His heartbeat picked up as Cyrus stepped closer to him. “Nope,” He brushed the question off nonchalantly.

As Cyrus got closer, he noticed the thin streaks of water marking the boy’s cheeks. He reached out to put a hand on TJ’s face, and wiped the tear tracks away. “Then what is that?”

TJ could have sworn he went into cardiac arrest when his body maneuvered to connect his lips with Cyrus’. He hadn’t really meant to, but Cyrus didn’t pull away when he did. If anything, he seemed to be holding on for dear life, his hands moving TJ’s shoulders, and then up to his neck.

When the pair broke, TJ was grinning like an idiot. “Nothing much, just everything I never told you about me.” Cyrus scoffed, and flipped TJ’s hood up, pulling the strings so everything but his nose and lips were hidden.

“You’re so stubborn!”

“That’s ridiculous,” TJ laughed, and struggled to pull open his hood so he could see the boy he had just kissed again. “You love me!” Cyrus crossed his arms and tried his best to hide his smile and the butterflies swarming his lungs and stomach.

“Maybe I do, I don’t know!” Cyrus smacked TJ in the arm lightly, and TJ stumbled back like he’d been hit in the gut.

“You like me, you liiike me!” The other boy teased him, running in circles as Cyrus pretended to chase him around. TJ, being the one that was clearly more physically able, ended up catching Cyrus in a hug from behind, to which the smaller boy protested with trying to squirm from his grasp. He gave up when TJ hugged him tighter, and turned to kiss him again.

And this time, it felt right. It wasn’t because Iris liked him, or because other people wanted them to be a couple. Cyrus was doing it for TJ this time. After that night, he was pretty sure he’d do anything for him.

[cool-anonymous-tyrus-shippe-blog]

My Favorite Tyrus Fics

@tyrus-is-endgames

Incomplete Chapter Fics:

1986 [AO3] ***

Tumblr Connections [AO3] ***

It Only Takes A Taste [AO3] *

My Best Friend’s Brother

Our Rhythmic Hearts [AO3] *

Ten Years Later [AO3] **

Type, Write, Edit [AO3] **

[Andi Mack]: To All The Boys I’ve Loved Before [AO3] *

Cupid Shuffle! *

The Development Of Tyrus: A Series Of Shorts [AO3] *

Whats In A Name [AO3] *

The List [AO3] *

The Notes We Write [AO3] **

All We Have [AO3]

Falling For You [AO3]

A Study In Fate [AO3]

Friends Shouldn’t Kiss Me Like You Do [AO3]

Meetin’ At The Malt Shop [AO3]

Boys Who Like Boys Can Play Basketball [AO3]

Physical Issues [AO3]

It hurts (to breathe) [AO3] **

5 Times T.J. Kissed Cyrus + 1 Time Cyrus Kissed T.J. [AO3] *

Somersaults and Swingsets [AO3] *

TJ and Cyrus’ Totally No Fun Club [AO3] *

Leave The City [AO3] **

All These Things That I’ve Done [AO3] *

A Whole Lot of Swingin’ [AO3] *

Getcha Head in the Game [AO3] *

Someone I Used To Know [AO3] *

i would come back a thousand times [AO3] *

911! Emergency! [AO3] *

GOODMANS journal of inner turmoil. [AO3] *

nothingness ; andi mack au [AO3] **

you’ve got a friend in me [AO3] **

save then last dance for me [AO3] **

ivy [AO3] *

Those Four Words [AO3] *

TJ Kippen Is [INSERT HERE] [AO3] *

Doleful [AO3] *

Bittersweet Summer [AO3] *

Back To Summer Paradise With You [AO3] *

in the midst of it all [AO3] *

Secret Keeping [AO3] *

Falling [AO3] *

Dye [AO3] *

This weeds so sticky [AO3] **

Complete Chapter Fics:

Cyrus’ Dictionary [AO3] ***

Please, See Me [AO3] ***

Lemon Boy [AO3]

If You Can’t Stand The Heat, Get Out Of The Kitchen [AO3]

To All The Boys I’ve Loved Before (Tyrus) [AO3]

Best Laid Plans [AO3]

Chalk [AO3]

The List [AO3]

That Damned Universe [AO3]

Speaking In Cursive [AO3]

Little White Lies [AO3]

Fluff And Holiday Cheer [AO3]

Between Basketball Games And Swing Sets [AO3]

TJ’s Playlist [AO3]

To All The Boys I’ve Loved Before (Love, Cyrus) [AO3]

Who Waits For Love [AO3] **

A weekend to remember [AO3] *

maybe i’m crazy (for you) [AO3] *

School’s Out [AO3] *

Let Me Help [AO3] **

If It All Went Wrong [AO3] *

How Stupid of Me [AO3] **

Of Course [AO3] ***

Red String [AO3] *

Love Me [AO3] ***

It’s My Fault [AO3] ***

Adrenaline [AO3] **

You Saved Me [AO3] **

Against All Odds [AO3] **

In Our Own Little World [AO3] **

Compete One-shot Fics:

Dear Cyrus [AO3]

The Perfect Match [AO3]

Candy Grams [AO3]

To Love [AO3]

Lover Is A Day [AO3]

(When I’m Alone) I’d Rather Be With You [AO3]

Friends Don’t Call (in the Middle of the Night) [AO3] ***

A Hallway Love Story [AO3 - Part 1] *

Begin Again [AO3 - Part 2] **

Summer Love [AO3] **

Gestures Speak Louder than Words [AO3] **

Just the Way You Are [AO3] **

45 reasons why [AO3] **

Exhale ~A Tyrus One-shot~ [AO3] *

Maybe You Were Looking, But You Weren’t Really Seeing [AO3] **

Hearts and Hotels [AO3] **

Confessions and Competitions [AO3] **

Never Leave Your Side [AO3] **

Seen [AO3] **

Broken Glass (Always & Forever) [AO3] *

You Can Be Oblivious [AO3] **

Summer-Salt [AO3] **

We ‘Bake’ a Great Team [AO3] **

Ice Skates and Snowflakes [AO3] **

Not To Me [AO3] *

and it’s funny how lightning seems to bring out the very softest side of you [AO3] **

in radio nothing happens (until the announcer says it happens) [AO3] **

Dogwalker boy [AO3] ***

everything the heart desires [AO3] **

Andi Mack episodes: https://www7.watchserieshd.io/series/andi-mack-season-3-episode-10

[sogoodishouldchargeadmission]

Thanks for Listening Ch. 1

There’s nothing like the threat of dismemberment to get you moving, I’ll tell you that much. So even after witnessing the oh-so tragic passing of Sergeant Jacob Bower and his squad, I still put together the quickest escape plan of my life, followed it to a minimal extent, and got the hell out of dodge.

The following hours turned out to be problematic for a few people. Those problems include (but are not limited to) a high-speed collision, rampant dishonesty, anxiety for a friend, a preventable skull fracture, two injuries to the same arm and one very pissed off little girl.

While I will be the first to admit that poor choices were made, not all of them were mine. So how is it fair that five of those six problems fell on my shoulders?

You’re probably wondering what you’ve just gotten yourself into by reading this. Well tough shit. It’s not my idea to give written statements every time something goes wrong out on the battlefield. Hell, it’s no wonder you have so many of these things sitting on your desk; everything goes wrong nowadays, be it a little or a lot.

Also, there’s really no point in keeping paper records; the building across the street went up in flames two weeks ago. I’m pretty sure this one doesn’t have much longer. Not to mention our very real paper shortage; starting out, I thought I’d try to write as small as possible, but screw it--I’m doing this with my non-dominant arm, and coming down off morphine. You get what you get.

I digress.

For the (apparently precious) record, my name is Corporal Damon S. Baird. Delta Squad. The following statement chronicles the events of the 28th day of Frost.

Spoiler Alert: It sucked.

***

Was I supposed to say no to a superior officer who requested help? I didn’t think I had a choice. Shit, if it was as simple as making up an excuse every time I didn’t feel like doing something, trust me, I’d be on my own private island by now. But a long time ago, I was given an angry lecture by an angry man about ‘Gears following orders’, and I was trying to do just that when Sergeant Jacob Bower of Theta Squad came to me for help that morning.

A few things on Ol’ Jacob. He was a cobweb of a man in looks and old age temperament. You know the type; wispy white hair and fragile composure, all bark and plenty of bite.

Had I heard things about him that were questionable? Yes. Did his squad have a reputation for being morally flexible? Yes. Did that make me apprehensive about getting in a vehicle with them and traveling miles away on assignment? No, and for two reasons:

Said assignment did not, in any way, contradict my own internalized code of conduct. I’m a mechanic. They wanted me to fix a truck. How could they, right?

2. I was bored, and the prospect of getting away from the congested shithole this little city of ours has turned out to be seemed like a blessing. That I could get my hands dirty under the hood of a truck was an added bonus, not that anyone reading this cares what a forgettable soldier like me actually enjoys doing. You know, what he’s especially good at, what makes him feel fulfilled. Not to point fingers or anything, (I’m actually only pointing one; front and center) but if I’d been allowed to help more often in departments that actually applied to me, maybe this whole mess wouldn’t have happened. I’m aware of the fact that I’m in demand, but forgive me for not seeing “fixing a civilian washing machine and/or toaster oven” as my one true calling.

So yes, I was easy to the guy who offered me the possibility of grease under my fingernails. Funny how no one argues about you all sitting with your thumbs up your asses all day long. I guess we’re good at what we’re good at, and we like what we like. Let’s laugh collectively. Let’s move on.

Here was the plan: the five of us take a Packhorse to the city of Hale. I’d fix a downed Centaur that had, according to them, been grounded for a few weeks now. They’d scavenge for other supplies, and we’d be back in lovely Jacinto before dinner. Easy-peasy, if only it went that way.

Some of you will remember Hale as being the city everyone wanted to see before they died; lights, cameras, and movie star shit making the place a gimmicky tourist trap that brought in crazies from all over Tyrus. Today, you can visit for the affordable price of your sanity, and bring back such souvenirs as lice and tetanus.

In other words, it’s run by Stranded--above-mentioned crazies who never left.

I wasn’t thrilled to hear that that’s where we’d be heading, but like I said, I had a bad case of cabin fever that week. You might be rolling your eyes or shaking your head at the mechanic who wanted a change of scenery during the end of the world, but guess what? I stopped giving a fuck in grade school.  

I didn’t tell anyone where I was going because I assumed Bower had that covered. Grizzled officers like him usually like to feel in charge, and--believe it or not--I wasn’t in the mood for a pissing contest. He was the sergeant. I was the private; best behavior, stiff upper lip, all that jazz. Figures, the one day that I try on a sheep costume, the wolves of the world were wearing theirs too.

I got in a Packhorse with Bower and his crew; three male Gears named Miles, Lester, and Castle. We were at Jacinto’s limits by 0800, and entered Hale maybe two hours after that. The ride there, however uneventful, was punctuated by nervous energy. Bower’s people were loud and twitchy, and even with their helmets on I could guess their ages by conversation and body language alone: Rookies, all of them, which kind of made me wonder more about Bower.

Not to speak ill of the dead or anything, but he seemed like the type of potato-faced old guy that would have an established group of lackeys more his age. God knows Hoffman plays favorites.

(Kidding!)

So the fact that Theta Squad consisted of individuals mostly under the age of twenty-five had me questioning; was Jacob Bower a wanna-be desk jockey vying for promotion by looking after the little ones? Had he lost his own crew through tragic circumstance, and was trying to redeem himself by teaching the younger generation? Was this some sort of late-life crisis?

I was thinking of a way to ask him these completely appropriate questions right as we made it to Hale. At that point, my attention was pulled elsewhere.

To put it bluntly, “The City of a Thousand Possibilities” was looking more like “Hell Froze Over, Twice.” Not that war had been kind to it these past twelve years. And the Stranded certainly weren't employing sanitation workers regularly. Or ever. But when I say we drove up to a shit-show that day, I mean a complete and utter Shit Extravaganza. They rolled out the red carpet alright, but it wasn’t made of polyester.

What I saw was Stranded men and women fighting for their lives and losing quickly against a melting pot of Locust, Wretches and Tickers under a Nemycist-riddled sky. They were along the outskirts of the city, on the freeway. Their blood looked dark, reflecting the inkspot clouds.

Bower made a sharp turn, taking us on the ramp into downtown. Through the back of the truck, I watched a Stranded woman get blown to pieces by a Boomer and suddenly wondered what the fuck was going on. We were still driving? While humans were still dying? I’m hardly an advocate for people of the Stranded variety--I have lots of colorful nicknames for them, actually--but turning our backs on admittedly preventable death seemed...inhuman. Maybe I’ve been hanging around Marcus “Mother-Hen” Fenix too much for my own good, but at the end of the day, humanity is endangered, and it seemed ignorant to act like we didn’t notice.

 At that point, Bower wasn’t being very communicative, and his kids’ nervous chatter had died down to jagged breathing at the sight of the grubs. I opened my mouth but he cut me off, using the rearview mirror to look at me instead of the carnage behind us.

“They’ve been offered help, Private. We’re here for a cause that wants saving.”

I couldn’t argue with something I knew was right. The Stranded population see us as monsters no better than Locust. And twelve years ago, they might’ve had a point; the government hasn’t always made the best choices when it comes to things like basic human decency. I was there when the hammer strikes sent millions into an ashy grave. So they’re angry, I get it. But holding a grudge isn’t exactly solving anything. If it’s an apology they want, it might be a good idea to survive long enough to hear it.

Several blocks in, the sound of battle diminished. By the time we got to the inner city, the gunfire sounded like morse code in a padded cell. Only particularly loud screams were heard. The sky was still inked to shit, though, and maybe it was those dark clouds above our heads that made my next exchange with Bower so problematic.

It’s at this point I’d like to remind you about my list of problems, specifically ‘Rampant Dishonesty’.

We parked. I didn’t see a Centaur. The only things in that town center were a few dirty tents and sleeping bags, empty food crates, five emaciated Stranded, and string lights connected to generators, illuminating the whole ugly picture for us.

Do you know which of those things Bower made a beeline for?

With the rest of Theta suddenly pointing their guns and barking orders like they weren't scared shitless, he ushered me over to the generators.

(Gold star if you guessed correctly.)

“Get them safe for travel,” he’d said.

“Sorry, what?” I’d said.

“Those don’t belong to you!” a woman said, and the desperation in her voice outweighed the anger. I turned to look at her. She was probably younger than the fifty or so years her face painted. All of the people in that group looked particularly unwell, too pale or too old or too skinny, but they were the only one’s there to protest.

It was classic urban militia; take the fight to the threat, and leave home base defenseless. It’s definitely a strategy more stupid than noble, but I still felt like a dick to take advantage of a mistake like that. Yeah, ‘all’s fair’ etcetera, but let’s remember that this war isn’t against people.

A pang of unease settled in my chest. Bower, on the other hand, seemed pleased--like he couldn’t have planned this to happen any better. I say again, planned.

“So you want me to steal them?” I asked, incredulous. We haven't seen Kryl in months, but don’t tell me that you don’t still sleep with a light next to your bed. The idea of leaving those people in the dark made my skin crawl.

“They’re for a cause, Private. Something more important than you or me, or them.”

“So, what, you’re Robin Hood now? Stealing from the poor to give to the rich? Oh, wait…”

“I’d hardly call the COG rich.”

“Yeah, but we’re better off than this.” I gestured to the skeletal individuals in the corner, who flinched at the movement. Eyes wide, faces dirty and desperate. “You’re asking me to take everything they have.”

“No private. Not asking.”

I swallowed. “Are you serious?”

And Bower leveled his pistol at me. “Quite so, I’m afraid.”

I should have seen this coming.

Blah, blah, blah.

[thinkingaboutyoungroyals]

Red String (1/4)

Summary: When T.J. was 8, he read a book about the Red Strings of Fate. And when he was 10, he started seeing strings EVERYWHERE.

A/N: I've always loved the idea of being connected to your soulmate with a Red String of Fate. I did a bit of research on them and I've read some manga that have them as a theme. So, I took some liberties on how they work here and I'm still figuring it out along the way but I hope I'm able to convey them in a justified manner.

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Chapter 1: Black String

When T.J. was 8, he stumbled upon a book in his mother’s bookshelf. The cover was pretty – it had flowers, a cat, and a funny looking face and it was splashed in colors of black, white, and red. When he opened it up and started to read, it talked about something called “The Red String Of Fate”.

This string or thread runs from your heart to your pinky finger and stretches further on through time, space, and distance. And at the end of that string is your fated person, someone who is meant to stay by your side for the rest of your life.

The concept excited 8-year-old T.J. that he ended up tying a red piece of thread in each of his parents’ pinky fingers. They had been fighting a lot and he hoped that the string would keep them together.

When T.J. was 10, his parents divorced, he moved with his mother to Shadyside, and he started seeing strings…everywhere.

Some were red, others were blue, and there were some black ones. Some were strong and firm, others were tattered and hanging by a thread (literally), and some were broken beyond repair. Some people had multiple strings on all of their fingers while others only had a few, even just one.

By this time, he was old enough to know that this was something that only he (as far as he knew) was able to do: see the strings of fate. It was strange and he had no idea why he could see them and what any of the colors meant. There weren’t exactly books that detailed such an ability, aside from the one he found about the Red String, and the internet was no help, either. And it seemed like the strings were more complicated compared to how the book he read when he was 8 described them.

T.J. may not be the smartest kid in class, but he wasn’t exactly dumb. So, he made his own observations, jotting them down in a little notebook.

By the time he was 13, he almost figured everything out.

Red strings were for love, obviously, and they’re on your pinky finger. Blue strings were for platonic love like family and friends and usually found on your pointer or thumb. And black strings were for hate, tied around your middle finger.

Sometimes, strings would break and re-thread with someone else. For example, his mother’s red string was broken after the divorce and for a year, just limply hung there. And, then, one day, she came home with a smile and a brand new, re-threaded string. She had just met her soon-to-be boyfriend who was going to be like a second dad to T.J.

Sometimes, strings would change color and slowly move its way to another finger. For example, his father’s red string had faded into blue and moved to his thumb. Right after that, he filed for a divorce.

And, sometimes, strings would disappear forever. Like T.J.’s fourth blue string when his grandfather passed away.

And he discovered that the stronger the feeling, the brighter the color. But when those feelings start fading, so did the color of the strings.

T.J. had three – blue for his parents and his grandmother - all on this thumbs. Black strings would appear now and then on his middle finger but would eventually disappear when he stopped caring. However, his pinky finger remained empty.

Soon, seeing strings form, break, and disappear just became another normal day for T.J. He never interfered in anyone's business, though. It was up to those people to maintain the quality and strength of their strings, not his.

Sometimes, though, he found himself jealous of people with so many strings that you couldn’t even see the tips of their fingers. Despite having “friends”, none of them developed a blue string with him. That was how he knew they weren’t genuine and they were all just using each other, somehow. Sometimes, T.J. wished he didn’t know. Sometimes, he wished he couldn’t see the strings. They burdened him, sometimes.

Kids his age were starting to have their red strings appear. And even if they couldn’t see it, T.J. could. He could see the girls giggling among themselves when a friend’s crush passes them, their strings bright and connected because the crush was mutual, but they didn’t know it. He even witnessed a boy’s broken red string sadly hanging from his pinky as he stared at another boy across the hall, talking to a girl. 

A lot of red strings were broken, in fact - unrequited crushes. Normal for middle-school kids. Most of those strings would disappear, eventually. And, sometimes, a new one would pop up - a new crush.

Meanwhile, T.J.’s pinky remained empty. He wondered if he was ever going to have his own red string. Not even a broken one for him. Maybe because he didn’t really like anyone.

And, then, one day, he developed a new string but not one he expected: a black string. He hadn’t had a black string in a while. And all because the basketball team’s new player, Buffy, was better than he was. He could see the feeling was mutual. Along with several blue strings and one red one, he could see a black string on her middle finger.

He watched as she lined up for breakfast with a friend, wondering how to approach her when he loathed her presence so much. As he walked closer, he gave his own black string a small tug. She raised her eyes in his direction and rolled her eyes.

“Incoming,” she murmured to her friend.

“This is how it is, Buffy,” T.J. spat out. “You have to tutor me.” He tried to look more intimidating. “I’m team captain.”

She smiled with poison at him. “Sure, T.J. Here’s your first lesson: X times Y equals ain’t gonna happen!”

And it resulted in another bickering session between them. He didn’t know why she rubbed him the wrong way but she just did. Maybe his insecurities flared whenever she was around. Maybe he was jealous of all those strings on her fingers. Whatever the reason, he couldn’t back down.

He ended up making a deal to pass the ball to her in exchange for tutoring. As well as one more thing.

“You get my friend, Cyrus, here, a chocolate-chocolate chip muffin.”

She pulled said friend to her side. The smaller boy squeaked in surprise, his brown eyes connecting with T.J.’s. What a funny little guy. His fingers were covered in blue strings and his pinky had a lone broken red string.

T.J.’s own fingers twitched.

“Then we have a deal.”

“You can’t get your own muffin?” T.J. blurted out, amused.

“I didn’t need this extra level of humiliation,” the boy said to Buffy before turning to T.J. with a sheepish smile. “But, no.”

T.J. didn’t know what made him do it. It was so easy to just walk over, grab him a muffin, and the deal was done. But he ended up teaching the kid how to fish, to walk to the muffin like it was his, and just take it.

And he didn’t know what made him stalk over when the other students began protesting and announce, “He’s with me.” Even though this kid, Cyrus, wasn’t with him. He was just using him to get Buffy to tutor him so he could pass his stupid Math class.

It wasn’t until he was at his locker, switching his books, that he finally noticed it. He couldn’t believe that he didn’t even feel it. And he was more confused than ever at seeing it.

A short pink string was hanging from his pinky.

[thinkingaboutyoungroyals]

Red String (4/4)

Summary: When T.J. was 8, he read a book about the Red Strings of Fate. And when he was 10, he started seeing strings EVERYWHERE.

A/N: I’ve always loved the idea of being connected to your soulmate with a Red String of Fate. I did a bit of research on them and I’ve read some manga that have it as a theme. So, I took some liberties on how it works here and I’m still figuring it out along the way but I hope I’m able to convey them in a justified manner.

A/N2: I just want to say thank you to everyone who read this fic from the beginning to now! I had a blast writing it and I’m so glad many of you enjoyed it too!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Chapter 4: Connected String

T.J. messed up. 

No. Reed messed up. But, T.J. still felt like it was his fault for trusting his so-called friend. It wasn’t like they had a blue string or anything. He just thought, for once, Reed would actually be a good friend. 

He told Reed how important Cyrus was to him. He warned him not to pull any funny business. He practically begged him not to mess this up for him.

Now, Cyrus hated him. T.J. was sure of it.

He could only see red and black as he marched over to Reed and Lester. 

“Hey, man, where’s-.”

T.J.’s hands shot up and shoved against Reed’s chest so hard that the other boy stumbled backwards right into Lester.

“What the hell-.” He made to hit back but Lester held him back, shaking his head.

“I told you!” T.J. bellowed. “I told you not to mess this up for me! I told you to leave your shitty games for another day! Just one day, Reed!”

Reed sneered. “Dude, it’s just a gun! Chill!”

“Just a gun?!” T.J. was shaking in fury. “It’s not just a gun! Cyrus could get hurt! Any of us can get hurt!”

“It’s not like I’m pointing it at you!”

“I don’t fucking care, Reed! If I had known you were doing this, I wouldn’t have come today! And definitely wouldn’t have brought Cyrus!”

And just like that, Reed laughed. Not a humored laugh or even a playful one. Just downright mean and insulting.

“T.J., dude, man up!” he shot. “You’re acting like such a dork like your little friend!”

That settled it. T.J. wanted to fight. If he was his old self, Reed would be on the ground nursing a broken jaw and a black eye. But, he wasn’t that guy anymore. He no longer allowed his anger to take over his actions.

So, T.J. did what he should have done five minutes ago when Cyrus walked away.

Turning around, he walked back to his bike and got on.

“Where the hell are you going?!” 

T.J. flashed the other blonde a cold stare. “Manning up,” he stated before putting on his helmet, kicking his bike into gear, and drove off.

He texted Cyrus all weekend, begging him for a talk but none of them were answered. 

That very Monday, T.J. came to school very early with his mother in tow. With her support, he managed to tell Dr. Metcalf what Reed had done over the weekend. When asked if anyone else was there, he had hesitated but honestly told him that Cyrus was there, too, but emphasized that he had done the right thing and walked away. 

His mother was proud of him for doing the right thing. But, T.J. couldn’t feel proud of himself.

He had ruined it with Cyrus, the only good thing in his life at that very moment.

None of his texts were answered. All of his calls went to voicemail. 

And what was worst? Not even tugging on Cyrus’ blue string did anything. 

..........

The next few days after that were a blur to T.J. He went to his classes like a robot. He found himself scanning the hallways for Cyrus, hoping to catch him alone. He even went to see Buffy’s team practice but the other girl had glared at him so coldly that he left without saying a word, tail between his legs. 

At the cafeteria, he sat alone. 

Reed was suspended and in an act of solidarity, Lester refused to sit with him. Not like T.J. would want to, anyway. Lester condoned Reed’s actions. He even brought those stupid watermelons himself. Seeing as those two had been friends since the first grade, they had a blue string.

T.J. poked at the strange sandwich from the cafeteria menu for that day. They thought sticking a French flag on top of it made it fancy, but he was fairly sure it was still the low-quality meat they served them every day.

He felt a tug on his pointer finger, making him pause. His chest filling with hope, he looked up.

Cyrus was standing by the door of the cafeteria, watching him. Beside him, Andi and Buffy were both talking excitedly about something.

Their eyes met and T.J. hoped that they could finally talk so he could apologize and patch things up. Cyrus made to walk over to him, almost making T.J. smile.

But, just as quickly, the boy’s bodyguards surrounded him, grabbing each of his arms and steering him the opposite direction. 

T.J.’s heart fell to his stomach as he followed them with his eyes.

Cyrus didn’t even try to fight the two girls. He could do it if he wanted to. But, he let them take him away.

His appetite completely gone, T.J. dropped his fork on the tray, got up, and threw away his uneaten food in the nearest trash can before leaving the cafeteria. 

He could feel both his blue and red strings trying to pull him back but he ignored them.

..........

Every night, that entire week, T.J. would spend some time staring at Cyrus’ blue string. 

He was afraid that it would disappear. He was afraid that when he woke up the next morning, his pointer finger would be empty. But, the fact that it was still there gave him hope that Cyrus would forgive him.

Cyrus still saw him as a friend. 

But, for how much longer?

..........

He thought about skipping the playground that Friday. He waited for Cyrus every day after school but the other boy showed up. Not even once. 

But his string was pulling him towards the playground. There must be a reason why.

From far away, he could already see him. A lone figure sitting on the swings, barely swinging.

Cyrus had finally come to their place.

“Is that swing taken?” he asked, softly. 

Cyrus looked up, looking surprised to see him. “How’d you know I’d be here?” he asked, with a hint of a smile.

That made the hope blossom in T.J.’s chest even more.

“I’ve been stopping by,” he admitted. “Seeing if I can catch you without your bodyguards.”

Cyrus avoided his eyes. “I’m not supposed to hang out with you.”

T.J.’s heart sank as the other boy made a move to stand up.

“I should go-.”

“No, stay.” T.J. stopped him with a hand. This was Cyrus’ special place. He was just an invader. “I’ll go. Can I at least say ‘I’m sorry’ first?”

Cyrus shrugged and T.J. proceeded to explain that he didn’t know about Reed bringing a gun. 

Believe me, he wanted to beg. Please believe me.

As he finished explaining, Cyrus continued to stay quiet, watching him with an unreadable expression.

“Now you hate me.” T.J. held back tears that threatened to fall as his chest ached. “Classic T.J. Anything good, I gotta ruin it.”

Deciding that it was better to leave now before he truly started crying, he began to walk away.

“T.J.”

Like his wish was his command, T.J. spun around. 

“You said you were gonna apologize.”

T.J. furrowed his brows. “I just did.”

“Actually, you didn’t,” Cyrus said, sassily.

“Yes, I did,” T.J. insisted. “I said I…” 

He was right. T.J. didn’t. He was such a fool. Why was he so terrible at apologies?!?!

“Sorry for not saying sorry.”

He made a move to leave again.

“So….”

It was like Cyrus was refusing to let him leave as T.J. felt himself instantly turn around again. 

“You apologized for not apologizing. But you still haven’t apologized.”

“You can be a little annoying, you know that,” was out of T.J. mouth before he could stop himself as he felt his string pull him closer to the boy. 

He thought he was done for but to his surprise, Cyrus pushed back.

“Well, you can be oblivious,” he shot back, leaving his swing and walking towards T.J.

“Well, you can be judge-y.” 

“You can be intimidating.”

“You know what else you are?”

“What?”

Wonderful.

Amazing. 

The best thing that had ever happened to him.

Frustratingly cute.

“You’re the only person I can talk to like this,” was what he ended up with. 

At that, Cyrus did a shy little smile that made T.J.’s heart race.

He could practically feel him tugging at their blue string and he knew that the other boy had forgiven him.

“Mind if I stay?” T.J. asked, hopefully.

Cyrus shrugged, cutely.

Almost in sync, the two boys stepped back from each other and sat on their respective swings.

They sat there for a moment, swinging lightly in silence. Their blue string hung between them, swaying along with their movements.

“I really am sorry,” T.J. softly stated. “I should have left with you the second you said you wanted to leave.”

Beside him, Cyrus answered, “I know. Thank you. And… I’m sorry, too. For not answering your calls. And your texts. And for blocking you.”

T.J.’s chest ached and he felt himself pout. “You blocked me?”

“The girls made me,” Cyrus replied, looking guilty. “They were worried and… I know I should have stood up to them but…” He sighed, looking down at his feet. “I can’t say ‘no’ to them. I love them too much.”

“I know.” 

T.J. was well-aware that Andi and Buffy would always come first in Cyrus’ life. They had the blue strings to prove it. And he had to admit, he was kind of jealous about that. He wanted to be important to Cyrus, too. But, that was selfish. He was being selfish again.

“But, don’t worry, I’ll talk to them and explain everything,” Cyrus continued, unaware of T.J.’s inner turmoil. “I won’t let them continue being mad at you when you didn’t mean to put me in that situation. And, I’ll unblock you right now!”

To make his point, Cyrus took out his phone. A few taps and T.J. was officially unblocked. Cyrus even showed him the screen to prove it.

“So, you have me under ‘Not-so-scary-basketball-guy’?” T.J. teased and somewhat amused at the contact name.

Cyrus blushed. “I just never got around to changing it!” he defended.

“Don’t change it.” T.J. took out his own phone and scrolled through his contacts. Finding Cyrus, he showed him his phone. “I have this as yours.”

Cyrus squinted. “Chocolate-chocolate chip muffin? Really?”

Smirking and shrugging in response, T.J. put his phone away and began to swing.

It felt good to finally talk to Cyrus and hang out with him like this. T.J. knew he missed him but he didn’t know exactly how much. It was only a week of no talking but it felt like months. He couldn’t help but wonder if Cyrus felt the same way. 

They swung on the swings for a while longer, talking about anything that came to mind and filling each other in on things that happened during the week. 

At some point, a few kids showed up and asked for a turn on the swings, so they grabbed their things and moved to another part of the playground.

Cyrus was leading the way, chattering as he walked and T.J. silently stayed by his side, just following. The other boy led him to one of the man-made ponds and settled down on the stone edge. T.J. plopped down beside him, a little space between them. 

For a few silent moments, they sat there, watching the ducks and fish swim around. 

Then, Cyrus asked about Reed so T.J. told him about the other boy’s community service hours and his dad being investigated. He knew because Reed had sent him a very angry text full of cursing, threats, and insults to his mother. (He even half-expected a black string to show up but surprisingly, there wasn’t one.)

T.J. had to block him after that, but he chose not to tell Cyrus these things. He would only worry.

“I just want you to know that it wasn’t me who told the police about the gun,” Cyrus explained, as if T.J. was going to be mad at him for reporting. 

T.J. would never get mad at him for doing the right thing, just because he was a coward for a good five minutes. 

“I would have, but they already knew.”

“Yeah. I told them.”

Cyrus’ eyes widened.

“Surprise!” T.J. grinned. “I did the right thing.”

He could finally feel proud of himself because looking at Cyrus, right there and then, he knew that his friend was proud of him, too. It was all T.J. needed.

Smiling to himself, he looked back out to the pond, the heavy weight he had been carrying on his back completely disappearing.

A tug on his pinky made him look down at his hand, looking at his red string, curiously. It was probably really happy to be near Cyrus again. The longer the string grew and the brighter it shone, the stronger his feelings became.

Subtly, he followed its path, wondering how long it had become now.

It seemed endless.

As he reached the end, T.J tried to hold back a gasp.

“What’s wrong?”

T.J. couldn’t answer, his gaze frozen on the sight of the end of his string.

“T.J.?”

That voice… that angelic voice… 

He lifted his head to meet Cyrus’ concerned eyes. 

Warmth and joy exploded in his chest, spreading to the rest of his body. He could swear, for a moment, that he felt his string pulse with power. And it was trying to pull him closer to the boy sitting next to him.

“I’m fine,” he replied, unable to keep his smile from widening. “I’m just… happy… that we’re talking again.”

At that, Cyrus grinned, shyly. He looked so cute. “Me too.”

When the other boy turned his gaze towards the pond, T.J.’s eyes fell to the end of his string.

The happiness he felt at seeing the other end tied around Cyrus’ pinky was indescribable.

..........

Weeks passed.

Life went on. 

Many things happened that tested their friendship.

But, T.J. and Cyrus only continued to get closer.

It would be so easy to confess his feelings to the other boy. He already knew that Cyrus felt the same way. Their connected red string was proof of that. 

But, why couldn’t he say a word?

Maybe a part of him was still insecure. That unconfident part doubted the string’s power. Why would Cyrus like him? The boy was sweet, kind, and all kinds of wonderful and T.J. was just… T.J. A dyscalculic former bully who had some kind of supernatural ability that no one else knew about. What was to like about that?

Maybe he was just making excuses because he liked what he had with Cyrus right now. They were comfortable and at ease with each other. They were best friends. If things went wrong and they broke up and their strings disappeared, what then? He couldn’t bear to lose him. He just wanted to stay by Cyrus’ side.

But, he should have known better than to doubt the power of the red string. 

Unintentionally, his subtle flirting became full-blown flirting. He stared at Cyrus more. Did things for him without being asked. Remembered every single tiny detail that might not seem important to others but he took very seriously. 

By that point, he was pretty sure all of Jefferson Middle School was perfectly aware that T.J. Kippen, basketball team captain, had a giant and irrevocable crush on Cyrus Goodman, Good Hair Crew founder… except for Cyrus Goodman, himself.

Every day, their red string grew stronger and shone brighter. 

With a simple tug, T.J. was at Cyrus’ side and vice versa… and the boy didn’t even know he was doing it!

When he was sad, T.J. knew while Cyrus could always tell when something was bothering him. When he was happy, T.J. felt happy too and they both basked in the things that made them happy together. When one was angry – whether it was at the other or someone else – they would do everything they could to try and appease the other. And when they did fight – as rare as those were – they always made up soon (T.J. hated fighting with Cyrus and tried to avoid it as much as he could). They were both so in tune that it seemed like they could reach other like an open book. 

So, this was how it felt like to have a connected red string. 

..........

It was on the swing set where T.J. became fully aware of the power of the red string.

He supposed that it made sense. Cyrus’ blue string appeared there, where they had their first real conversation. 

They were on the swings again, after Cyrus had a bad day and decided that swinging and ranting to T.J. at the same time made him feel better.

T.J. could practically feel his frustration emanating from their connection and he hoped that his calm vibes helped at the very least. He wished he could hold Cyrus right there and then… or even just his hand. He really wanted to hold his hand.

When Cyrus was done ranting, he took a deep breath before turning to T.J. with a sheepish smile.

“Sorry,” he said. “I’m always ranting to you.”

Chuckling, T.J. shrugged. “It’s what I’m here for.”

“You know that I always appreciate you being around when I need you.” Cyrus beamed, toothily. “You’re my best friend. Don’t tell Buffy and Andi I said that, though.”

He laughed a tinkling laugh.

T.J.’s chest warmed up, as it always did when Cyrus said something sweet.

He didn’t mind just being Cyrus’ best friend, even though he wanted to be more. So much more.

Between them, their red string hung – bright under the sunlit sky. Sparkling, almost. 

T.J. could feel it pulling him in closer. He could blame it on the strings, then. This sudden impulse inside him. 

“Hey, Cyrus,” he called out, softly.

“Yeah?” 

Taking a deep, calming breath, T.J. stood up from his swing and walked closer to Cyrus. The other boy looked up at him, questioningly.

“Do you remember… the Strings of Fate?” 

Cyrus scrunched his brows for a bit before his eyes lit up in recognition. “The one you were writing about last year? I remember! We never did get around to working on that mini-movie.”

“Yeah…”

“What about it?”

“Do you remember the red string?”

Cyrus blushed. The act piqued T.J.’s curiosity.

“Yeah. It’s for love, right? If two people are meant to be together, they’re connected by a red string.”

T.J.’s pinky twitched.

He held out a hand to the other boy, the hand with all his strings. 

Looking confused, Cyrus took it with the hand that held his own strings.

T.J. pulled him up and stepped closer.

“T-Teej? What is this about?” Cyrus sounded nervous but he didn’t step away.

T.J. didn’t release his hand and, in fact, took the other one in his too. 

“When I was little,” he began. “I always wondered who my red string would be. As I got older, I…kind of lost hope of ever getting one. It just felt like no one could accept me… all of me. Faults and all. Because that’s what the red string is about, I think. Loving and accepting the other person, no matter who they are. And maybe that’s why some people have broken strings… because the other person didn’t love and accept them.”

He wasn’t sure if he was making any sense or if Cyrus could even understand what he was trying to say. 

“For the longest time, I had a broken string and I didn’t care about it because it meant the other person didn’t care about me. But, the longer I had it, the more I wanted it to… not be broken.”

“T.J., I’m sorry but I don’t understand.”

Cyrus hadn’t stopped looked away from him, trying to read his face.

T.J. figured he probably sounded crazy at that point. Maybe he was because he was talking about the red string as if Cyrus knew that he could see them. But, he didn’t know. So, he was making zero sense. 

But, he had already started. He couldn’t just stop.

“What I’m trying to say is…” He took a deep breath. “Cyrus… you’re my red string.”

He never thought he would say those words out loud. Not to Cyrus. It sounded so cheesy, now that he thought about it.

But, a simple ‘I like you’ didn’t seem right for a confession. Because Cyrus was deeper than that. He was his red string. His soulmate. He was someone that the Strings of Fate tied T.J. to because he loved and accepted T.J. for everything he was. 

And T.J. strove to be worthy of his red string and, in the end, he got it. It would be an insult to the strings to just let Cyrus go… to let their string break and fade away like so many others… he didn’t want that.  

At his confession, Cyrus let out a soft gasp, his mouth open in shock. 

“I-I… um…” 

T.J. knew he returned his feelings. The red string was proof of that. But, he needed to hear Cyrus say it. He needed his reassurance. Because, damnit, he was still insecure.

When Cyrus continued to stare at him in silence, red-faced and all, T.J. realized that he may have been too impulsive in his confession. Fear gripped his heart. Now, Cyrus may never want to talk to him ever again.

“You don’t have to answer me,” he said, quickly releasing Cyrus’ hands. “I’m sorry, I… um… I should go.”

He made a move to turn around and run all the way home.

“T.J., wait!”

He stopped, cursing the strength of his string.

“I… I have an answer for you.”

T.J. turned on his heels.

Cyrus stood so far away from him, more than an arm’s length. But between them, their red string floated along, trying to pull them back together. 

Maybe that was what made Cyrus step closer. 

“I don’t know much about red strings,” he stated. “And I know I said I would do some research, but I forgot, so I’m sorry.”

He took another step closer to T.J.

“And, since you took initiative, it would be wrong of me not to give you an answer.”

T.J. swallowed the lump in his throat but he didn’t move from his spot as Cyrus moved even closer.

“But, ever since we talked here the first time, I’ve always felt this weird… pull. I guess, I always ignored it because you and Buffy didn’t get along, but I wanted to be your friend.”

“Just a friend?” T.J. said, allowing himself a small teasing smirk.

Cyrus laughed. He was in front of T.J. now, half a head shorter, and looking up at him with twinkling brown eyes.

“Well, back then, yes... But, now... I guess… things change… and so do feelings.”

T.J.’s heart was pounding hard and fast against his chest. His pinky twitched as the string’s pull became stronger.

Cyrus softly smiled at him. “I think… you’re my red string too.”

He didn’t know if he could blame his next action on the strings but T.J. no longer cared. He moved forward, closing the gap between them, as he pulled Cyrus into his arms, holding him… finally!

He felt Cyrus’ own arms wrap around his middle, head tucking itself on his shoulder. 

T.J. had never felt such happiness and contentment before. He was going to savor the feeling for as long as he could. As long as Cyrus was by his side. 

When they finally broke apart, their hands made their way to each other, linking. 

T.J. felt like crying.

“If you’ll let me, I’ll take really good care of our string,” he said to Cyrus, tightening his hold on the other boy’s hand. “I’ll never let it get tattered or break or disappear. I’ll make sure it’s always strong and bright.”

At that, Cyrus blushed, smiling radiantly up at him. “And I’ll do the same. I promise.”

They stood there, smiling at each other for a moment.

Then, the reality of what just happened fully dawned on T.J.

“That was… cheesy… right?” he asked, sheepishly.

Cyrus laughed. “Yeah, a little. But, I liked it. And… I like you.”

T.J.’s heart fluttered. “Yeah? Well, I like you too.” He squeezed the other boy’s hand. “So… you wanna go out on a date sometime?”

Cyrus pursed his lips. “I’d like that.”

He wanted to kiss him, so badly. But, one step at a time. He would be patient. There would be a right time for that. For now, he was content with just this.

It was getting late and T.J. knew they had to start heading home soon. 

As they made their way out of the playground, their entwined hands swung back and forth between them. T.J. couldn’t help but take a glimpse at them.

Amongst all their blue, their single red string stood out bright.

@oreo-275 @mrsirwinson @imonlyhereforjoshuarush @illbeyourreasonwhy @completelysterling @cytriclemon @luckyharmonydragon36245 @cxrus-kippen @booklove-2 @tyrusinarush @luckyharmonydragon36245 @petra-dragneel @i-am-confussion @newlookcyguy (can’t seem to find your account so if this is you, please lmk if you changed your URL!) @admirablyamber @hopeandbelieve5 @thedampjofangirl @evaeselgreatests

[thinkingaboutyoungroyals]

Red String (3/4)

Summary: When T.J. was 8, he read a book about the Red Strings of Fate. And when he was 10, he started seeing strings EVERYWHERE.

A/N: I’ve always loved the idea of being connected to your soulmate with a Red String of Fate. I did a bit of research on them and I’ve read some manga that have it as a theme. So, I took some liberties on how it works here and I’m still figuring it out along the way but I hope I’m able to convey them in a justified manner.

A/N2: I thought I’d end this at 3 chapters but I wrote so much and it got too long so I figured I’d split it and give you guys one more chapter to look forward to after this one!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Chapter 3: Red String

Chapter 3: Red String

Since Andi was apparently wallowing in her own loneliness with Buffy gone, Cyrus was now spending more of his free time with T.J. Not that T.J. complained about it. He was happy to spend time with the other boy. Most of the time, they just walked each other to class or studied together.

The weather was still a little chilly but some days, it was warm enough to be outside and not freeze to death.

It was during one of those days that Cyrus invited T.J. to study and do homework on one of the picnic tables at the front of the school. The other boy had a history quiz coming up and T.J. was trying to do his Math homework.

After letting the school know about his case and getting assigned a specialized tutor for this dyscalculia, he had been doing… better. Still a long way from an A+ but Cyrus was proud every time he showed him a passing grade. A smiling and proud Cyrus always left T.J. with a warm tingle in his chest and it made him just want to work harder.

“Hey, Teej, do you have those notes from the last chapter?”

Not even looking up from the problem he was concentrating on, T.J. gestured with an elbow to his backpack on the table. “It’s in my bag. The blue notebook.”

“Thank you!”

The sounds of Cyrus rummaging through his things reached his ears but T.J. couldn’t tear his eyes off his homework. He was almost finished and he was sure he got most of it right. He would have to double-check the answers with his tutor but for once, he was confident about his work.

“This seems rather small for a history notebook.”

Immediately, the warning bells ran out in T.J.’s head and he looked up so fast that his neck almost broke.

“Underdog, wait-.”

But, it was too late. Cyrus had already opened the small notebook to the first page.

T.J. watched in horror as the smaller boy’s eyes widened as he read. He should have been more specific. His notebook where he wrote his observations on the Strings of Fate was also blue.

Now, Cyrus was going to think he was weird or crazy. He was going to distance himself from T.J. His blue string would disappear and T.J. didn’t know if he could handle that.

“Wow, this is fascinating,” Cyrus commented, raising his head to beam at T.J. “Did you write these?”

T.J. blinked, feeling confused yet relieved. “Um… sort of?”

“What are they, exactly?” Cyrus asked as he laid the notebook on top of the table, open on the first page. “The Strings of Fate?”

T.J. cleared his throat, putting his pencil down. “Well… when I was little, I read this book about the Red Strings of Fate. In Japan, they believe that people who are meant to be together are tied together with a red string. That no matter where they are in life, they will always find each other. I, uh, thought it was pretty cool.” He chuckled a little bitterly. “I even tried to string my parents together with a red string but they divorced, anyway.”

“Oh. I’m sorry to hear that.”

T.J. shrugged. “I’m over it. They’re better off as friends anyway.”

Cyrus looked down at the notebook. “You wrote about two other strings. Blue and black. Did you make them up?”

T.J. swallowed. “Um… In a way.” He left it at that.

Cyrus flipped to the next page. “I bet Andi and Jonah are tied with a red string,” he mumbled to himself.

Oh, they were, T.J. wanted to tell him. But, the string was so beaten and tattered that he knew that it would break any day now. And he could tell that their blue string was stronger, anyway, so they would always be friends. Plus, Andi had an extra red string, this one not as tattered as the other one, so that probably meant that she liked two people at the same time.

(That was a new thing, so T.J. had written it down in his notebook. Apparently, you can also have 2 strings for the same person, depending on their relationship. He added that to his notes, too.)

Meanwhile, Cyrus sounded so forlorn that it made T.J. want to reach out and hold his hand. But, he wasn’t sure if he was welcomed to do so. Instead, he gently tugged on the blue string around his pointer.

Cyrus looked up with a smile at him. “And I bet we have a blue string!” he piped.

It made T.J. smile, warmth flooding in his chest. “I’m sure we do,” he agreed.

“I wonder if I have a red string with anyone,” Cyrus wondered out loud, staring at his pinky.

His broken red string was hanging limply there. It looked shorter than T.J. last saw it. He wondered what that meant.

“Probably not, though,” the other boy continued, chuckling humorlessly.

T.J. wanted to protest, so badly, because Cyrus deserved an actual red string with someone, not a broken one. How can he not?! He was sweet and kind and was like a ray of sunshine to everyone he came across! That type of person deserved a real red string.

“Anyway, I think this would make a great theme for a mini-movie,” Cyrus continued, sounding excited now. “Did you know I write screenplays? My last one wasn’t so good though, so I almost gave up.”

No, T.J. did not know that but he liked learning new things about Cyrus.

“I can help you,” he blurted out without thinking.

He couldn’t take it back because Cyrus was beaming.

“Would you, really?! Oh my god, I gotta get started on the script, right away! And do my own research! Mind if I take pics?”

“Go ahead.”

While Cyrus enthusiastically snapped a photo of each page of T.J.’s notes, the jock couldn’t help himself from staring.

Cyrus didn’t think he was weird. He even wanted to work on a movie with him. T.J. had never worked on a movie or written a script before. But, if Cyrus wanted to make a movie out of T.J.’s secret ability, he was willing to learn how. Besides, it sounded like fun. And they would probably spend a lot more time together.

On the table, he spied his pink string spread all over his notebook.

..........

It was several days later that T.J. ran into Cyrus and Andi at The Spoon… with a trash can they claimed as Buffy. Well, they said it was a time capsule and the snarky side of him wanted to tell them it was a trash can, but he was trying to change so he held his tongue and played along.

Andi didn’t like him, he could tell, but once he apologized to time capsule Buffy, she allowed him to hang around. For that, he was grateful.

At some point, while Cyrus was discussing his woes with somersaults in gym class and T.J. offering to help him, Jonah came and Andi immediately left them to speak with him.

“So, how are you helping me with the somersaults?” Cyrus asked him.

T.J. grinned. “You’ll see.” He looked at the list of tasks Cyrus had texted him earlier. “You can’t finish a horror movie?”

“I can’t help it! I get nightmares!”

“Well, we can work on that next.”

“I-I don’t know if that’s a good idea-.”

“Hey, guys.”

Both looked up to see Jonah and a girl T.J. didn’t recognize, but he could clearly see the blue string that connected the two of them

Jonah had dragged a chair so he could sit at the head of the table and the girl slid into the booth next to Cyrus.

It was right then that things got awkward when Andi announced that she was no longer joining them and, quite literally, ran out of The Spoon. Her red string floated behind her, strained and close to breaking.

T.J. thought Jonah would run after her, but he stayed seated. And these two were connected by a red string?! No wonder it was so tattered! (Plus, her second one had disappeared, somehow.)

“I should… probably go too,” T.J. announced. “I have to go to work.”

At that, Cyrus looked legitimately frightened. His eyes were begging T.J. not to leave him. How cute.

“Wanna come with me?” he offered.

“Yes! Please!”

And, with that, they were off.

T.J. took him to the children’s gym where he worked part-time. His dad was friends with the owner and had offered him a job so he could stop asking his mom for things he wanted. He knew money was hard to come by in a single parent household, even with the monthly sustenance his dad sent.

Besides, he realized that he liked kids. They were pure and innocent and didn’t care about his reputation at the school. They just liked having fun and playing with him as their blue strings trailed around the gym.

Helping Cyrus learn how to somersault was a success because of the kids. They were so encouraging and cheered the boy on, even if he failed a few times. And T.J. could tell that Cyrus had fun.

An hour later, while the kids were taking their snack break, the two teens also took one of their own. They sat cross-legged on one of the gym mats, munching on fruit snacks and juice.

“Thanks for today,” Cyrus said to him.

“Anytime,” T.J. replied.

“And… sorry about what happened at The Spoon earlier.”

T.J. raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

Cyrus made a face, his nose scrunching, cutely. “That whole… awkwardness with Jonah and Andi. And Natalie.”

So that was the other girl’s name.

“Yeah, about that… aren’t they together?”

Cyrus sighed. “Together. Not together. To be honest, I don’t really know anymore. They have a complicated relationship that I can’t explain with simple words.”

That explained the tattered string. It wasn’t well taken care of.

“Kind of makes me glad I’m not a part of it, now that I think about it,” Cyrus continued.

That was an odd thing to say.

“What do you mean by that?” T.J. asked.

Probably realizing what he said, Cyrus just smiled and shook his head. “It’s nothing. Don’t mind me. I just… realized something.”

T.J. was curious but he chose not to pry. Cyrus would tell him when he wanted to.

The other boy spent another half hour at the gym with him before deciding that it was time for him to head home.

He thanked T.J. for the afternoon, hugged all the kids goodbye, and headed out the door with lighter steps. Like a big weight just left his shoulders.

It wasn’t until Cyrus briefly turned back to wave one last time that T.J. realized that the other boy’s pinky was now empty and free of the broken red string.

…........

When Buffy came back, Cyrus plotted to make sure she and T.J. would talk again. And by talk, he meant play a one-on-one game. Basketball was the sole language they both spoke and Cyrus used that to his advantage.

And T.J. never felt so grateful that the boy was in his life.

After the game, when T.J. went to the locker room to get changed, he looked at his middle finger. The black string was still there but it looked thinner…weaker. One tiny snap and it would break completely. He hoped it would. He didn’t like the sight of that black string anymore. 

“I could forgive you,” Buffy stated as the three of them made their way out of the school. “But I don’t know if we could ever be friends.”

“What if he apologized?” Cyrus suggested.

“That better be the best apology ever.”

Cyrus looked at T.J., with belief and faith reflected in his soft brown eyes. “You could give it a shot.”

And give it a shot, T.J. did. The words were already written down, somewhere in his one of his notebooks. Maybe with a few edits to accommodate the knowledge that Buffy was going to start her own basketball team.

But, he hoped it was enough. He prayed it was enough. He was never good at apologies.

“…if you wanna change the world, then you gotta change the game.”

With that last rhyme, T.J. felt it. His middle finger felt lighter. And he knew that it was gone. The black string had disappeared.

Buffy had forgiven him and stopped seeing him as an enemy.

Beside her, Cyrus was staring at him, mouth open in proud disbelief. “Was that the best apology ever?” he stated.

“I think… maybe it was,” Buffy agreed.

“So, we’re good?” T.J. asked, apprehensive.

She smiled. “Yeah. I think we are.”

“Cool. I’ll see you around, then.”

He flashed Cyrus a brief look, thanking him for the help, before turning on his heels and walking away.

It was like a weight off his shoulder, a thorn removed from his chest. For the first time in so long, he felt… happy.

And the reason for that was… Cyrus.

He felt the string around his pinky pulling, like something was holding it back…or someone.

Slowly, T.J. briefly stopped in his tracks and turned around.

His almost-red string was longer than ever and it was floating in suspension between him and…Cyrus.

Their eyes met.

And, right then, T.J. knew.

That string belonged to Cyrus. It had always been Cyrus.

It had appeared the moment he met the boy. It gradually got longer the more time they spent together. And, now, his string was trying to pull him back…to bring him back to Cyrus… because Cyrus was his soulmate.

Flashing the boy one last smile, T.J. turned back around and forced his feet to walk away.

Their strings weren’t connected.

Not yet.

But, part of T.J. knew that it would only be a matter of time. If he continued making his way to the other boy’s heart, if he continued doing the right thing and become the person worthy of Cyrus, their red string would appear, too.

Of that, he was sure. 

Tag list:

@oreo-275  @mrsirwinson @imonlyhereforjoshuarush  @illbeyourreasonwhy  @completelysterling  @cytriclemon @luckyharmonydragon36245  @cxrus-kippen @booklove-2  @tyrusinarush  @luckyharmonydragon36245  @petra-dragneel  @i-am-confussion  @newlookcyguy (can’t seem to find your account so if this is you, please lmk if you changed your URL!) @admirablyamber  @hopeandbelieve5  @thedampjofangirl  @evaeselgreatests

[thinkingaboutyoungroyals]

Hey I just wanted to say that you're one of my favorite writers! Like I've read a bunch of your one-shots on tumblr and fics on AO3 and I just realized that you're the author of all of them! I haven't read everything yet (though I hope to get there) My favorites of yours are (In no particular order) 1). Red String 2). Bright (kid Tyrus makes me so soft UWU) 3). Stag partners 4). Perfect 5). Hoodie Anyways! Hope to read the rest of your fics soon and can't wait for any more you publish! 💙💙💙

Thank you!!! That just made my day!!! Tyrus has inspired a lot of stories out of me in the past year so I’m really glad you’re enjoying them!!! 

[thinkingaboutyoungroyals]

I’m only on the first part of the last chapter of my “Red String” fic and I’m making myself cry.

Thanks, Tyrus.

[thinkingaboutyoungroyals]

Just out of curiosity, if you read my “Red String” fanfic on here, do you want to be part of the tag list? I feel like I should so that when I post the next chapter, everyone who read the first part can see the next two.

Feel free to leave me notes and messages!

[tjlikedhimfirst]

WTF HOW DID I NOT KNOW ABOUT THIS BEFORE EXCUSE ME SKSKKSKDK

Red String (¼)

Summary: When T.J. was 8, he read a book about the Red Strings of Fate. And when he was 10, he started seeing strings EVERYWHERE.

A/N: I’ve always loved the idea of being connected to your soulmate with a Red String of Fate. I did a bit of research on them and I’ve read some manga that have them as a theme. So, I took some liberties on how they work here and I’m still figuring it out along the way but I hope I’m able to convey them in a justified manner.

Chapter 1: Black String

When T.J. was 8, he stumbled upon a book in his mother’s bookshelf. The cover was pretty – it had flowers, a cat, and a funny looking face and it was splashed in colors of black, white, and red. When he opened it up and started to read, it talked about something called “The Red String Of Fate”.

This string or thread runs from your heart to your pinky finger and stretches further on through time, space, and distance. And at the end of that string is your fated person, someone who is meant to stay by your side for the rest of your life.

The concept excited 8-year-old T.J. that he ended up tying a red piece of thread in each of his parents’ pinky fingers. They had been fighting a lot and he hoped that the string would keep them together.

When T.J. was 10, his parents divorced, he moved with his mother to Shadyside, and he started seeing strings…everywhere.

Some were red, others were blue, and there were some black ones. Some were strong and firm, others were tattered and hanging by a thread (literally), and some were broken beyond repair. Some people had multiple strings on all of their fingers while others only had a few, even just one.

By this time, he was old enough to know that this was something that only he (as far as he knew) was able to do: see the strings of fate. It was strange and he had no idea why he could see them and what any of the colors meant. There weren’t exactly books that detailed such an ability, aside from the one he found about the Red String, and the internet was no help, either. And it seemed like the strings were more complicated compared to how the book he read when he was 8 described them.

T.J. may not be the smartest kid in class, but he wasn’t exactly dumb. So, he made his own observations, jotting them down in a little notebook.

By the time he was 13, he almost figured everything out.

Red strings were for love, obviously, and they’re on your pinky finger. Blue strings were for platonic love like family and friends and usually found on your pointer or thumb. And black strings were for hate, tied around your middle finger.

Sometimes, strings would break and re-thread with someone else. For example, his mother’s red string was broken after the divorce and for a year, just limply hung there. And, then, one day, she came home with a smile and a brand new, re-threaded string. She had just met her soon-to-be boyfriend who was going to be like a second dad to T.J.

Sometimes, strings would change color and slowly move its way to another finger. For example, his father’s red string had faded into blue and moved to his thumb. Right after that, he filed for a divorce.

And, sometimes, strings would disappear forever. Like T.J.’s fourth blue string when his grandfather passed away.

And he discovered that the stronger the feeling, the brighter the color. But when those feelings start fading, so did the color of the strings.

T.J. had three – blue for his parents and his grandmother - all on this thumbs. Black strings would appear now and then on his middle finger but would eventually disappear when he stopped caring. However, his pinky finger remained empty.

Soon, seeing strings form, break, and disappear just became another normal day for T.J. He never interfered in anyone’s business, though. It was up to those people to maintain the quality and strength of their strings, not his.

Sometimes, though, he found himself jealous of people with so many strings that you couldn’t even see the tips of their fingers. Despite having “friends”, none of them developed a blue string with him. That was how he knew they weren’t genuine and they were all just using each other, somehow. Sometimes, T.J. wished he didn’t know. Sometimes, he wished he couldn’t see the strings. They burdened him, sometimes.

Kids his age were starting to have their red strings appear. And even if they couldn’t see it, T.J. could. He could see the girls giggling among themselves when a friend’s crush passes them, their strings bright and connected because the crush was mutual, but they didn’t know it. He even witnessed a boy’s broken red string sadly hanging from his pinky as he stared at another boy across the hall, talking to a girl. 

A lot of red strings were broken, in fact - unrequited crushes. Normal for middle-school kids. Most of those strings would disappear, eventually. And, sometimes, a new one would pop up - a new crush.

Meanwhile, T.J.’s pinky remained empty. He wondered if he was ever going to have his own red string. Not even a broken one for him. Maybe because he didn’t really like anyone.

And, then, one day, he developed a new string but not one he expected: a black string. He hadn’t had a black string in a while. And all because the basketball team’s new player, Buffy, was better than he was. He could see the feeling was mutual. Along with several blue strings and one red one, he could see a black string on her middle finger.

He watched as she lined up for breakfast with a friend, wondering how to approach her when he loathed her presence so much. As he walked closer, he gave his own black string a small tug. She raised her eyes in his direction and rolled her eyes.

“Incoming,” she murmured to her friend.

“This is how it is, Buffy,” T.J. spat out. “You have to tutor me.” He tried to look more intimidating. “I’m team captain.”

She smiled with poison at him. “Sure, T.J. Here’s your first lesson: X times Y equals ain’t gonna happen!”

And it resulted in another bickering session between them. He didn’t know why she rubbed him the wrong way but she just did. Maybe his insecurities flared whenever she was around. Maybe he was jealous of all those strings on her fingers. Whatever the reason, he couldn’t back down.

He ended up making a deal to pass the ball to her in exchange for tutoring. As well as one more thing.

“You get my friend, Cyrus, here, a chocolate-chocolate chip muffin.”

She pulled said friend to her side. The smaller boy squeaked in surprise, his brown eyes connecting with T.J.’s. What a funny little guy. His fingers were covered in blue strings and his pinky had a lone broken red string.

T.J.’s own fingers twitched.

“Then we have a deal.”

“You can’t get your own muffin?” T.J. blurted out, amused.

“I didn’t need this extra level of humiliation,” the boy said to Buffy before turning to T.J. with a sheepish smile. “But, no.”

T.J. didn’t know what made him do it. It was so easy to just walk over, grab him a muffin, and the deal was done. But he ended up teaching the kid how to fish, to walk to the muffin like it was his, and just take it.

And he didn’t know what made him stalk over when the other students began protesting and announce, “He’s with me.” Even though this kid, Cyrus, wasn’t with him. He was just using him to get Buffy to tutor him so he could pass his stupid Math class.

It wasn’t until he was at his locker, switching his books, that he finally noticed it. He couldn’t believe that he didn’t even feel it. And he was more confused than ever at seeing it.

A short pink string was hanging from his pinky.