#why did I write this?

[tf2heritageposts]

cheavy is so real for that milk is fucking delicious

It is quite tasty. I’ve never understood the arguments against milk. “We’re the only species that drinks the milk of other species”, first of all if I could buy human milk at the store I would, second of all I’m sure your average raccoon would also drink cow milk if it could.

[tartrazeen]

Nines: 😐 I would like to go on this rollercoaster

Connor: so go

Nines: 😐 I can't. I'm scared

Connor: you were designed to shoot people for the military. why are you scared of a rollercoaster?

Nines: 😐 You're going to laugh at me

Connor: of course

Nines: 😑

Nines: 😑 I don't want to put my arms in the air

Connor: then don't

Nines: 😐 I have to. It's a part of the experience

Connor:

Nines: 😐

Connor:

Nines: 😐

Connor: ... do you want me to ask why you're scared of that?

Nines: 😐 Yes please

Connor: :/ fine.

Nines: 😐

Connor:

Nines: 😐

Connor: oh for f- okay, why are you scared of putting your arms -

Nines: 😐 They might fall off

Connor:

Nines: 😐 I can't wholly trust the integrity of my joints at that velocity

Connor:

Nines: 😐 Because... well...

Connor:

Nines: 😐 Your joints are only slightly more reinforced than they'd be with duct tape and mine had to be mass-produced beyond that

Connor: ... so you don't want to ride a rollercoaster because you're afraid your arms will fall off.

Nines: 😑 Correct

Connor:

Nines: 😑

Connor: ... okay. so put them into the box with everyone's hats

Nines: 😐 No someone will take my arms

Connor:

Nines: 😐

Connor: we can find your -

Nines: 😑 No I don't want someone taking them

Connor:

Nines: 😐 Will you go on the rollercoaster for me

Connor: ... and... what? stream it?

Nines: 😐 Yes please

Connor: so you're okay with my arms falling off?

Nines: 😐 I'll catch them for you with my superior speed

Nines: 😐 Also yours are only like twenty bucks so we can get you some new ones

Nines: 😐 Also I know where those hands have been and it's disgusting. Get rid of them anyway

Nines: 😑 But ride the rollercoaster first

Connor:

Nines: 😑

Connor:

Nines: 😐

Connor:

Nines: 😐💵

Connor: there we go.

Connor: happy?

Nines: 🙂

Nines: 😐 Log flume please

Connor: why can't you ride -

Nines: 😐 I want to stand at the bottom and get splashed by the big wave

Connor:

Nines: 😐💵

Connor: who keeps giving you cash?

Nines: 😐💵 Markus

Nines: 😐💵 He said he saw where this was going

Nines: 😐💵 Also maybe I stole it, I don't know, what does this have to do with the log flume

[hyperfocuscentre]

Cupioromatic Leo Valdez being obsessed with the idea of having a relationship, imagining himself in one ever since he knew what love was. Cupioromantic Leo Valdez never being able to truly put someone in the place of the blank shadow of a figure that played the role of his imaginary lover. This figure being the wrong fit for all the people he thought he had a crush on, yet him pushing them into it's place anyway.

All the people.

Hazel, who was one of the easiest to imagine because for a moment, it seemed like she liked him ‘back’. For a moment only, because then Leo found out she liked Sammy and god did he find it so shocking, so uncomfortable to actually see himself, or someone who looked almost identical to him, in a relationship with an actual, living person. To see someone so identical to himself flirt and feel for another.

He may want it, but he didn't want it.

Calypso, who seemed to be in a similar place to him. She too, longed for something that was so, so far away. She too wanted romance, but it was out of reach, an unfortunate thing that tortured her from above but never fell into her palm.

For a while, they tried to create something, force feelings, and love, and a happy relationship, but it wasn't true, it wasn't real. She left, decided to try and have a real life; something that she had also been denied for so long, but could have now. She left, and Leo was alone again.

Khione. Thalia. Jason. Names that he attempted to force a meaning upon, but failed. They weren't crushes, or loves or anything of the sort. They were just Tantalus' desperate grabs at ripe fruit, a desperate attempt for something deemed impossible by a higher figure.

Cupid or Aphrodite or whatever other stupid love god with their stupid love plans, had condemned him.

All the people, all the fish in the sea, yet none made Leo's heart beat a different tune.

[spottedgardeneelstan]

let’s see what ideas i wrote down last night….!

yeah.

[2-lines-and-a-circle]

There I am…

Notes: In which your dearest friend Malleus has finally gotten a lover. Your feelings spread out across a confusing melody. Includes: Lilia Vanrouge, Malleus Draconia, Reader. 

You watched Malleus’ back as it faded along the ocean shoreline with tears in your eyes. There he goes, your best friend finally happy as he could now be with his lover. The beads of happy tears strolled down your cheeks as the sun started to bleed into night. Everything was so beautiful as your friend had found someone to share a new beginning with. 

There was genuine happiness since you knew they would make a perfect match for a lifetime. Yet, there was also a part of you swollen with the truth. The truth that knows your close-knit friendship with Malleus wouldn’t be the same as it once was. Of course, you loved Malleus, but as a friend who you could trust wholeheartedly. Those kinds of friendships run deep and long; this was no exception. 

Looking across the shore aimlessly you thought back to how your memories of Malleus and the close bounds you two had. Days out in the warm sun trying all sorts of new activities that were so foreign to the two of you. Days where all you needed to do was take one good look to know how he felt. As the sand crumbled beneath you, so did your feelings. 

The closeness of two friends Is never quite the same, are they? 

With the night getting colder you attempted to lift your spirits. Repeating the same thoughts over and over again “It’ll be okay” which was the hard truth. 

It’s okay that Malleus is in love. It’s okay if he chooses his lover over you, rather there are times he should. It’s okay to not be as close as you were before. It’ll be okay. 

Finally approaching the dark lights of NRC you headed down main street coming to terms with the truth. Although it seems you weren’t the only one who had the same thoughts. A wobbling figure moved from side to side in front of you, that figure being Lilia. Curious you gave a light tap to his shoulder; without any hesitation he turned around to face you. There sat a pile of emotion all jumbled up to create a facial expression you’ve never seen before. 

There had been happiness, from knowing Malleus wouldn’t be alone. There had been a proud look from his hard work of matchmaking. Yet, a mixture of melancholy played a melody across Lilia’s pale skin. The melancholy of knowing a child has grown and will no longer need your guidance. All of those emotions created the most heart wrenching expression. 

Taking hold of Lilia’s hand, you held them in yours before you pulled him into a tight hug. While you two weren’t nearly feeling the same, the comfort of each other’s warmth melted the harsh cold. Such a bittersweet start to a new chapter in your life. 

[ill-say-anything-i-hafta]

I wrote a Jack & Crutchie story for @loiteringandlurking re: his post about Jack who is an amputee.

One-Handed

In the circulation yard, Crutchie watches the new kid with the knotted-up shirt sleeve, watches how he holds the top of his bag open with his stump and then shoves the papes in one-handed. Crutchie knows that dance; he's got two good arms himself, but one of 'em's always occupied. It ain't as easy as it looks.

Kid says his name is Jack. He's straight from a factory job -- by way of the charity hospital on Hudson Street -- and can't hawk a headline for shit, but he can tie a bootlace real tight, a hard-won skill he's clearly proud of. First, he does up the dangling lace on Crutchie's bad foot. Then he tackles the other side for good measure. Double knots on both scuffed boots. And Crutchie lets him. For once, he don't care who sees him getting help because it makes the guy so happy.

Crutchie lets Jack follow him around, too. Teaches him the ropes. Why not?

::::

August in the crowded dormitory bedroom, hot and airless. Most of the boys have stripped to their undershirts, including Jack, sprawled out on his bottom bunk. Crutchie glances quickly away from the place where his right forearm abruptly ends, the scar still red and angry, and looks down at the sketch slowly developing. A nighttime scene in a desolate place, a wolf howling next to twin pine trees, mountains in the background, a crescent moon riding overhead. Jack scratches his pencil along the wolf's back. His neck flushes with frustration. He still ain't used to drawing with his left hand.

"Looks real good," Crutchie says quietly.

Jack spits out the rubber eraser he's been holding in his teeth. It lands on his pillow and Crutchie waits for him to say something mean. But he only uses the eraser to rub at some of the smudges. "Not every day you gets to see talent like this up close, huh?"

::::

Someone sends word that Jack's old man is doing poorly, so he stops by with a carton of cigarettes he bought. The place is a tenement on Mulberry, prostitutes coming and going. Jack insists that Crutchie wait on the stoop to protect their pile of newly bought evening Worlds. He's back in less than ten minutes, looking slightly out of breath.

"If he lives so close, how come you don't stay with him?"

"Well, I used to," Jack says, though that don't answer the question at all.

"He hit ya?"

"Nah, never." Jack seems to realize he's walking too fast and slows his pace. "Sorry. I think maybe ... I think seein' me makes him feel bad. So I just don't go by there too much."

Crutchie knows exactly what Jack means, and it makes him mad. He stops in the middle of the street to call the headline to an old woman in a kerchief. Jack waits, lighting a cigarette one-handed, while Crutchie juggles his crutch to make change. "You's still a kid," he says. "Your pops should be helpin' you out. If he ain't gonna do that, the least he could do is be proud of how good you is doin'."

"He don't need to be proud. I's just livin my life," Jack says. "Not everybody's gonna understand." He slings his good arm around Crutchie's shoulders. "But I got you."

::::

Ladies like Crutchie. They always have. They want to help him; they buy his papes and sometimes they gives him food and things. But it's girls that like Jack Kelly -- girls their same age.

And Jack seems to like them back, too. He'll pick someone out special to pass the time with, take her to the music halls -- he can sell a hundred twenty papes on a good day and always burns through his money -- draw pictures for her, tell her all about the Wild West. When the boys at Duane Street tease him, Jack tells them to shut up: this is the one.

Somehow, none of them girls ever is. But when it ends, Jack don't seem too heartbroken. Nothing bothers Jack, nothing Crutchie has ever seen.

Maybe he is the wolf in the picture. Maybe he is the moon.

Seems awfully lonesome.

::::

When Jack talks about New Mexico, Crutchie can't help but worry. He's been working to support himself ever since he was eight, but he's only ever done the kind of jobs people think a cripple can do. Who says anybody would hire guys like them them for farm labor?

Jack hooks his right arm over the top rung of the fire escape ladder and reaches his hand down to take the crutch. He says, "We'll just hafta show 'em, pal. We can find a way to do most anything we wants to. Can't we?" And he pulls Crutchie up behind him.

They stand together on top of the world. No mountains, no majestic pines. Just them and the buildings that crowd all around them, the landscape of the city where he was born. Life ain't fair; he's always knowed that. But in this moment, Crutchie thinks what Jack says might be true.

Because he ain't never felt sorry for Jack, not for a minute. Why would he? Maybe there is folks out there who won't feel sorry for him neither, who will see him for all that he is.

FIN.

[dichromaniac]

I take my brain into my hands, stretch and pull it like I'm a world renowned taffy master.

I twist and squeeze just how the Sham-Wow Guy taught me in my youth until the Boyd lays rippling in a graduated cylinder.

I breathe, free of the curse that has weighed my electrified jello brain for days.

Alas, the shadowy red wine stain on white carpet follows me, filling the spongey chamoi holes of my thoughts.

This mother fucker.

[goldenamaranthe-blog]

Secrets: Single Mom AU

Blake: (after putting Kela to bed) What a week... I'm sorry you had to deal with that. My mother can be a bit much.

Yang: It's no problem. I'm just glad she didn't kill me. (laughs awkwardly and grows silent)

Blake: ...Is something wrong?

Yang: I was just... uh.... I was just wondering when you were going to tell me you and Kela were going to move to Menagerie.

Blake: (shocked) How'd you hear about that?

Yang: I saw a sign in the window saying the building was under new management. When I asked the owner what was going on, he said that he sold the complex...and dropped that you hadn't renewed your lease... I figured that your mom visiting was just to work out the little details.

Blake: .....Yang...I'm sorry. I just didn't know how to bring it up. My job at Vale Publishing doesn't pay enough for me to afford the new rent. When I told Mom, she suggested we move to Menagerie. There were a lot of pros: Kela wouldn't be bullied at school anymore, we'd be around family, we'd have a big house to live in while I saved up, and I could get a job that pays better.

Yang: Blake, you don't have to explain yourself to me. I get it. I just... wish you had told me instead of me finding out on my own...

Blake: (hugs Yang) I'm still up in the air about it...

Yang: (hugs back) Why? Everything would be so much easier in Menagerie for you and Kela.

Blake: But you won't be there. Kela would miss you so much. I don't think I could look her in the eye and tell her we have to leave and you won't be coming with us.

Yang: ...What about you?

Blake: ...That's really a no-brainer. I love you, Yang. I want to make us work, but a whole continent away...

Yang: Would be hard on everyone... I know... and I love you too. Both you and Kela, more than anything in the world. So I want you to do what's best for the both of you. Don't worry about me.

Blake: (holds Yang tighter and cries)

-One Week Later Offboarding a Ship in Menagerie-

Kela: (holding Blake's hand silently as they make their way to the gangplank)

Blake: ....Are you excited to start a new summer in Kuo Kuana with Grandma and Grandpa?

Kela: I guess...

Blake: (kneels down) Baby, I'm sorry. I know this isn't perfect, but things will be better here. I promise.

Kela: I miss Yang... (sniffs back tears) She didn't even see us off...

Blake: (hugs) I miss her too, baby. I miss her too. But she couldn't take off work.

Blake & Kela: (walk down the gangplank to the dock and see Ghira and Kali waving for them)

Kela: (sees blonde hair hiding behind Ghira, gasps, and sprints down the dock) YANG!!!

Yang: (jumps out from behind Ghira) There's my little fighter! (catches Kela in a bear-hug and holds her tight) OH!!! I swear you got bigger just in one week!

Blake: (rushes up and hugs Yang) What are you doing here?!

Yang: You know. It's a crazy thing. My boss just so happened to need a few foremen to come to Menagerie on a new construction contract. Something about wanting to set up a new office on the island to help with the infrastructure. My name just happened to get pulled out of the hat.

Blake: (wipes tears from her eyes) You're ridiculous.

Yang: But you love me.

Blake: I do.

Kela: I love you too!

Yang: (clutches chest) I love you too, baby girl. (hugs and kisses Blake and Kela) I love both of you so much.

Part 1

[mortonsaltlad]

Ok, is it just me, or does “neurotypical” sound like an insult…

like, imagine you are in an argument with someone and they just up and call you neurotypical. Like, what are you going to do about it?

Honestly at that point the only thing you can do is just go home, cry, and proceed to eat an entire family sized bag of Chex Mix while lying on the couch.

And then the only thing that can bring you some solace is when you find one of those Chex pieces with extra seasoning on it. It is a brief light, a flash of lightning dispelling the cruel darkness of our world. But even that is a fading happiness. A cruel mockery of joy. Yet it is better than the ensuing all consuming void. The numbness of existence, so severe that it is palpable.

Things probably get better if you buy some ice cream though idk.

[rhythmgamer]

i just woke up (again). anyone using Android. listen to me. open Settings. search for Private DNS in your Settings (if you don't have a search bar, it should be somewhere in the Connections settings).

Open Private DNS. click on "Private DNS provider hostname". now input this without the quotes: "dns.adguard-dns.com". Save.

There you go. no ads for you on anywhere (except streaming services which have ads inbuilt in them but they have different methods to get rid of ads)

but ❗ warning ❗ in case you're uninstalling and reinstalling Enstars for some reason, turn off the adblocker during the process. you can turn it on again after you get back again into your Enstars account

[fellowfights]

I think my a03 trademark now is writing weird POV fics.

Anyway please enjoy my Disco Elysium fic from the perspective of a toy plane

[theinheriteddutchess]

A Horror Story

Summary: fanfic lovers deep down inside (aka a writer's worst nightmare)

Warnings: crazy behavior? Scary situations? Nightmare?

Notes: this came to me when I thought of my musings about @asirensrage 's stories. It's another weird way of expressing my appreciation... But maybe also terrifying said person🤔😶‍🌫️

I hereby state that I would never

×××××

“I did it for you.”

You looked upon the serene smile of the person in front of you. You were calm. Weirdly so. You knew you were supposed to react, do anything, but your mind couldn't truly capture it yet.

“What did you do?” You whispered.

“I was helping you,” the other told you proudly. “You always said you were having so many WIPs. And you kept coming up with more of them. You were clearly overwhelmed. And you never finished your other stories.”

“So…you just deleted them?” You could barely get out the words, slowly realizing all your hard work was lost. All the files, back ups, all the notes. Just gone.

You felt nauseous looking at the other, with that weird calm demeanor and that creepy joyful grin on their face.

“Yes! Aren't you glad? Now you can focus on that story you wanted to finish.”

“You mean your favorite story?!” You knew that much.

“Well. Yes. You were going to let me wait forever. Very unfair, by the way. But I'm not mad. Not anymore. I found the solution. You should be happy. You should be thanking me! I helped you,” the other said, a maniacal glint in their eyes. “I will do anything for you.”

The end.

[a-world-trapped-in-a-person]

Toilet bowl

Here I am

Once again

At the toilet bowl

I want to vomit

But my stomach doesn't

Gastritis determined to

Give me hell

The sun is coming up

I can see the light

From the little window

In the bathroom

But I can't enjoy

A little sunrise

Because my body is rebelling

Against me.

[kcuf-ad]

Ai: Oh, oh! Looks Like our little Yusaku has a crush on Skye!

Yusaku: No, I don't.

Kolter: Wow, in denial already, bud? How shocking.

Yusaku: In denial? Why would I be in denial?

Ai: Well for starters, you meatbag, you have seen to be much more happier around her and did that creepy thing with your mouth.

Yusaku:...smiling?

Ai: Yeah, it gives me the creeps bro.

Yusaku: That doesn't mean I have feelings for her, I just felt happier around her, that Is all.

Kolter: Didn't you once blush when she complimented you?

Yusaku: I was emberassed, people blush when they are emberassed.

Kolter: Yeah right. Look, you can stop Being in denial, and just confess already, we won't tell anyone.

Yusaku:... You are typing with Theodore on the phone.

Kolter:...*closes the phone*

Yusaku: Another thing, I don't have feelings for her, not in the slightest, I only think of her as a friend, it is not Like I keep thinking about her at night.

*Later, at night*

Yusaku: ... Ah, Crap.

[occasionally-good-authoring]

Dead Breath

@indigothemuse

tw: blood mention/description, death mention

Simon Lewis is a vampire. Simon Lewis is a Downworlder. Simon Lewis was a mundane. Simon Lewis was off limits. But maybe worst of all, Simon Lewis wasn’t a girl. 

What he was, was the kind of person so alive he dragged the humanity out of everyone else. He was the vampire who didn’t run away the from the fight, instead running towards Jace through that Hellmist. 

He was the one who Jace dragged bloody through the Portal, forgetting the rules of the Clave for long enough to get the stupid Daylighter out of New York and into the worst possible place for him to be. 

Jace wasn’t thinking about more than Simon’s blood soaking into his black shirt. Sense only hitting him when Jia Penhallow carried Simon to an empty bedroom and Jace stared in the mirror of the bathroom closest to Simon. 

“They’re going to kill him,” he whispers to his reflection. The roots of his hair are showing, a red tinted brown leading into gold. Hair the color of dried blood. He turns of the sink and tries to scrub the copper red deep dark almost purple blood off his hands.

“They’re going to kill him,” he whispers to the blood that won’t come off his hands. The water runs pink but the blood stays on his hands. His shirt smells like when he found Simon on the boat, coppery and of death. 

Dead. Dead like his father should be. Dead like his falcon. Dead like he thought Simon was. Dead like dead and Jace can’t breath if he’s going to keep breathing in death. 

“They’re going to kill him.”

He steps out of the bathroom, death still stuck in his lungs, Simon’s blood on his hands, his shirt, his life. Simon will be hungry when he wakes up, Jia always keeps a steak in the fridge. Simon can drink the blood from that, can’t he?

Jace stands outside the door with a flask of long dead blood in his jacket. He hears Izzy talk, then he hears Simon’s voice, awake and alive and bright and dead and alive alive alive. He waits, he breaths in death and he waits. For what, he doesn’t know until he’s not waiting and the words coming out of his mouth aren’t what he wants to say.

But they haven’t ever been so he keeps saying them. When Simon doubles over, he begs Jace to make Izzy leave. Izzy looks to Jace, rolling her eyes with a sigh that he knows means Can you believe him? Like I’m leaving.

“Izzy, go.” She protests, he knew she would. “Listen to me Izzy, or I’ll pick you up and carry you out.”

Izzy leaves with a slam. Simon starts talking, he’s hungry, stumbling over his words and mumbling a sorry in there. Jace throws him the flask, then helps him unscrew it when his hands shake to hard to even hold it. 

He has to pour it into Simon’s mouth. The Daylighter smiles sheepishly, Jace screws the cap onto the flask and puts it back in his jacket. He stands up, throwing some stupid remark that flares anger in Simon’s eyes. 

“Alec wants to see you, Jace. It’s about Simon,” Izzy says. She’s come back in the room. Simon insists on coming too, and won’t let Jace make him stay. So he throws another insult he doesn’t mean and keeps quiet as Simon and Izzy talk. 

“They want to see Simon, I’ll come back for him when they want him, but make sure he’s decent enough whenever I get back.”

Alec leaves, and Jace finds himself saying something he never really wanted to do. Talk to Simon alone. Or maybe the thing he wanted to do too much. 

Maybe he just wants to talk to Simon alone while Simon’s still alive. Alive with his bright smiles, burning eyes, bouncing steps, breathing lungs, tanned skin, curled hair. 

Simon looks to Jace, and the corner of his mouth quirks up and Simon stands up. Jace’s heart beats hard.

“Fine, lets go.”

Simon follows Jace through the hallways on the Penhallow house, into the library that only Jia uses. Jia isn’t here, they’ll be left alone. Alone with Jace’s death and Simon’s life. He finds a small nook between a bookshelf and the wall and tucks him and Simon into it.

Close enough to feel Simon’s breath on his cheek.

“What is this about? Mad I bled all over you?” There’s a challenge in Simon’s voice, so Jace takes it. 

“This does happen to be my favorite jacket, for your information, but that’s now my problem with you currently. I told you to tell everyone that Clary was staying in New York. Willingly. To stay with her mother. Neither of us need them bringing her here.”

“You mean you don’t want her here. Because if she’s here, you look like the asshole you are, won’t they, Wayland,” Simon hisses, his breath cold on Jace’s cheeks. Jace pushes Simon against a bookshelf.

“Shut the hell up, Lewis. I don’t what her here because I want Clary safe. I thought maybe we wanted the same thing, for once. If you want to go pick her up and bring her through the Forsaken, be my guest.”

Simon pushes Jace into the wall, his back cracking. Simon’s not used to his strength, guilt flashing in his eyes. So Jace smirks and stomps on Simon’s foot. Better anger than guilt in Simon’s eyes, anger keeps people alive, guilt gets people dead. 

“You absolutely dick. Tell me what this is really for, Wayland, or next time I drink your blood it won’t be to save my life.” A lie, they both know it. 

“I told you Lewis, I needed you to tell them Clary wanted to stay in New York.”

“Know what I need? You to shut the hell up and stop lying to me. If that’s what you wanted, you wouldn’t have dragged me back here.”

In truth, Jace doesn’t know why he dragged Simon back here. But he knows the anger in Simon’s eyes makes him feel just a tiny bit as alive as Simon. 

He also knows that Simon isn’t angry because of Clary, or Jace, or the reason Simon even got dragged into this mess that’s going to kill him.

“Tell me what you want from this, Lewis. Tell me why you’re so angry that I wanted you to tell them something so goddamn simple. What the he.l dl you want right now, because it sure as hell isn’t what you’re saying it is.”

Simon breaths hard, staring right into Jace’s eyes. Anger burned, something else behind it. Something that made Simon lean closer, close enough for Jace to count even the smallest freckles on Simon’s face. 

“I want you to kiss me. Prove to me that this isn’t about Clary, and fucking kiss me.”

There’s still anger in Simon’s eyes, a smile on his lips. Jace doesn’t smell death anymore, the life Simon has filling his lungs. 

So Jace kissed him. He kissed him like it was a challenge, and maybe it was. He kissed him like it was the last thing he’d ever do. He kissed him and he kissed him and he kissed him, pushing him against the bookshelf again. 

Jace is alive, gasping for breath in between desperate kisses of death. Simon might die tonight, but what’s a few more kisses with a dead guy, and Jace won’t let Simon die more than he is already. 

He won’t let Simon die tonight. No, he won’t let Simon die. Even when Simon’s blood is covering his hands, Jace Wayland won’t let Simon Lewis die.

“You actually did it. You madman, you actually kissed me. You kissed me.” Simon laughs, breathless and gasping for the oxygen he doesn’t need. 

“Angel, Simon, of course I did,” Jace breathes. His hands are on Simon’s neck, curls falling onto Jace’s fingers. “You told me to.”

Simon pushes Jace off of him, anger flaring back into his eyes. Brown eyes narrow and Jace’s shoulders dig into the wall. 

“So that’s why you kissed me. Some sick joke so you can guilt me into lying to all of them. You pretentious asshole.”

Simon starts to walk away, Jace grabs his wrist, even know Simon could pull away in a second if he wanted to.  Simon doesn’t, but he rips his wrist out of Jace’s grip.

“I kissed you, Lewis, and I don’t kiss people for stupid reasons. That, Lewis, would be a stupid reason.”

“Then tell me what you kissed me for. Tell me why you kissed me.” Jace pulls Simon back into the nook. Simon doesn’t try to push out of the nook.

“I kissed you because you’re alive, you’re alive so much it hurts.” 

Simon leans close, lips grazing Jace’s. Just when Jace thinks Simon is going to kiss him, Simon whispers onto his lips,

“If it hurts, why kiss me?” 

“I’m no stranger to pain, Lewis. Now fucking kiss me or leave.”

And Simon kissed him. Hard and soft, back pressed hard against the bookshelf and Jace is no stranger to pain. And he kisses him back, he kisses him back, and he kisses him back, pushing right on back. 

Two dead breaths mingling in a nook of the library, life seeping out of them. 

Simon Lewis isn’t a girl, but damn is he a good kisser. Simon Lewis is a vampire, a Downworlder, a Daylighter, and so fucking alive. And Jace isn’t going to say no to breathing in Simon’s life.

[bo-bo-bean]

Curing a Phobia (chapter one)

Curing a Phobia

Chapter One: Dandruff of a Wimp

“Alligator teeth, for sure!” Giggles laughed with an ecstatic look written on her face. Flaky heard herself yelp before she could even think of the thought. Sharp teeth crammed into her jaw? That’s an accident waiting to happen! What if she bit her tongue? It would be no more!

“Really? Cause I would love shark teeth,” Petunia added in her own answer. That was even worse, it felt like…! Losing teeth constantly, biting the cheek. If she drew blood with sharp teeth, would she want to eat others? Would sharks be considered cannibals? Not to mention if she died, they would only see the teeth! She learned it from wondering if shark week was a week to worry about sharks, so she did extensive research and regretted it.

The two were in the middle of a game of Would You Rather. Flaky, hearing both options, couldn’t help but overanalyze every option until the two grew bored and changed to the next round. They tried their best to include Flaky, but perhaps their choices were too much for her. Still, they offered sympathetic smiles to her, as they did every time she discussed the options.

“What about you, Flaky?” Giggles wondered. The porcupine felt her quills slant down. She grew worried and wondered if they would fall off.

“U-um…” she spoke up. Her mind raced like rapid waters and it felt as if her throat was being grabbed by two hands destined to end her life. “I-... it… um… does it have to… be just either…? I… I would like, um… bird teeth.” Giggles sighed with an eye roll.

“Birds don’t have teeth,” Petunia oh so helpfully pointed out.

“I-I know! I know that… let me just… think…”

“Flaky, it’s just two options…!” the chipmunk had tried to patiently tease but it came off a bit abrasive. “Alligator or shark?”

“N-neither…!”

They both groaned.

“Flaky, we’re really trying, really…” Petunia softly spoke. Feeling guilty, Flaky looked down. The skunk, sharing the reaction, huffed and took Flaky’s hand. “I didn’t mean it like that…”

“I-I know…” she nodded softly. Lammy waltz over with a few sandwiches and cups of tea.

“Aww is everything alright?”

“Yeah…” Giggles looked at her friend with a smile she mustered up quickly. “Thanks.”

“It’s just… you’re scared of so much and we don’t even know what the things are most of the time, or even the reasonings.”

“I-I wish I knew too,” Flaky rubbed her arm.

“Well we DO know some things,” Petunia said outloud. “Spiders, snakes, baby chickens.”

“Waterslides, ponds, airplanes,” Giggles continued, counting her fingers. “Is there anything you’re scared of most?���

The quilled friend tugged at one of her spikes, some dandruff falling to the floor beneath her. She gulped her dry mouth. “... Flippy…”

This got the two to nod understandingly.

“Okay that one I see,” she agreed. “But… Flippy’s a pretty nice guy…! Honest…!”

“Yeah! He loves playing games with us…!”

“N-no!” she shouted. “H-he’s a monster…! He’s hurt so many…!”

“Flaky! He’s not a monster…!” the pink one chastised. “We don’t and won’t know what he’s been through, but he’s a friend of ours, like you are to us…!”

“Besides,” the skunk shrugged, picking up her tea. “He’s neat, that’s a good thing to have in a friend.”

“And loves to laugh!”

“He’s scary to me…” Flaky’s eyes downcasted south again. The two could only share glances, wondering what isn’t scary to her.

“Pass him, pass him!” Toothy screamed.

“No, don’t even! Don’t you dare, I swear!” Cuddles reacted with intensity. Flippy grinned as he propped himself on his knees, controller in hands. He accelerated his character in the digital car, hugging the wall of the track. “I’m gonna make it! I’m gonna make it!”

But before his own character could fly over the checkered line, Flippy’s car flew right by, gaining speed from drift points. “NOOOOOOO!!!”

Defeated, Cuddles dramatically flung himself to the carpet. “Curse you! Curse you all to hell!”

“Ha! ‘The veteran isn’t that good at video games’, hm?” Flippy beamed with pride. Toothy bowed to Flippy on his knees.

“Ye are worthy! We are not! Ye are worthy! We are not!” he chanted. This caused Flippy to snort and erupt into laughter. Cuddles merely groaned on the floor.

“My highscore… My life… ruined!”

“Oh come on, it’s just a game.”

“It’s my livelihood!”

“Trust me, it isn’t.”

Flippy helped the dramatic rabbit up and then stood up himself. “Come on, I’ll let you beat me next time. For now, let’s get something to eat. I’m starving.”

“Let me!?” Cuddles feigned shock and offensiveness.

“Ooohoo! He got you!” Toothy grinned like a maniac, holding Flippy’s shoulders. “Now fetch something for the king.”

“Stahahap…!” Flippy snickered. “Let’s all just grab something out. My treat.”

“... you serious?” Cuddles lost his pridelessness for a few seconds to see if he heard that right.

“Yeah, I’ll even let you pick the-”

“Hell yeah!” he bounced back to life. “We’re going to Guppy Grub!”

With shared smiles, Toothy put the game on pause and followed Cuddles and Flippy outside.

“You sure you wanna pay?” he asked.

“Yeah, I don’t mind,” he shrugged. “Besides, I’m caught up with bills and groceries, so unless there’s a robbery, I think I’ll be alright.”

“Ya heard the man!” the bunny concluded.

Walking down the icy sidewalk, Flippy looked up at the sky, getting lost in the snow falling down and grabbing at his fur ever so gently. It was winder and while regular bears hibernate, he didn’t need to. Just on some days, he was lethargic and would pass out anywhere when the weather got cool. He once found himself in the hospital because he passed out at the top of stairs. The doctors remarked how he only got a broken arm from his body basically ragdolling down seven stories.

“Are you feeling tired?” Toothy decided to ask. Flippy broke out from his trance.

“Oh no, not today,” he shook his head. “Yesterday I caught up on sleep when you guys wanted to invite me over.”

“Probably for the best,” the bucktoothed friend looked at the eager rabbit. “Knowing Cuddles, he would draw a mustache on you.”

“I would not!” he defended quickly. “I would put you in the Ancenstor Fellow pose they always do.” Thinking about the though, he sniggered and trotted right next to the bear.

“Yeah, I feel like you would.” Flippy’s eyes went back up to the sky.

He was glad he wasn’t too tired. Winter was his favorite season. Everything was clean and beautiful and the snow falling was so hypnotic. He would watch it for hours while snuggled in his bed out the window. Admiring it while it made piles against the glass along with his thick fur made him tired and thinking about that feeling nearly got him stumbling.

“Woah!” the beaver caught his arm. “You alright?”

“I think it’s too slick for him,” Cuddles grabbed his other arm. But as if on cue, his wasn’t looking where he was going and felt his feet slide out from under him. A slanted sidewalk due to the incompetence of a certain blue moose and the ice made Cuddles fall into the powdery snow. Since he was clutching to Flippy’s arm already, he brought him and Toothy down.

“Pfft you wihihing nut!” Toothy clamped some snow and pushed it into his face. “Was that on purpose!?”

“I sweahahar it wasn’t!”

“Suuuuure sure, yeah I’ll remember that, garuntee!” he looked back at Flippy. “You alright?”

“Yes yes, I am,” he nodded, sitting up. “Just lost my thought for a second.”

“You sure? You aren’t tired?”

“Nah,” he shook his head, taking off some snow in the process. “... winter is beautiful.”

“It is,” the beaver smiled in agreement.

“I think the only person who would hate winter is Flaky. She always feared icicles.”

Cuddles looked at Flippy and Toothy for backup, but he saw Flippy looking a little saddened.

“... now you’ve done it,” the freckles beaver glared. “Flippy?”

“... just… thinking,” he rubbed the back of his neck. “... I wish I could get along with Flaky. She really seems nice.”

“Hey, it’s her loss man, you’re awesome!” Cuddles pointed out as he poked his arm. His jacket was noticeably more plush due to his fur thickening.

“No no, I… I think she’s just… scared of me,” he admitted. “Every time I’m around, she cowers or just hides. I… I think I’m doing something wrong, but I don’t really know what.”

The two best friends were silent now. They didn’t know what to say since… it was true. Flaky avoided Flippy like the plague. It kind of made sense, though. He was in the war, moving to this town right after deployment for unknown reasons. And there were his… episodes. He became a whole different person. Flippy was kind, clumsy, goofy, this other him was… not. He had the most menacing yellow eyes and a predatorial pair of teeth. It scared everyone, yes, but they knew Flippy wasn’t this monster. Well… almost everyone. “... I think I’m a monster to her…”

“That’s not true…!” Cuddles argued. “When I first came here, man, she was TERRIFIED! Just because I skateboard all around! She was scared of getting run over!”

“She didn’t like how big my tail was,” Toothy offered any comfort he could.

“Well it’s fake, anybody would be sca-ow!!” Toothy threw another pile of snow at the rabbit, then looked at Flippy.

“Point is… Flaky isn’t really a people person, but she’ll adjust…! It may take longer with you because she’s never been… to w-a-r,” he spelled out slowly as to not panic the already saddened bear. “But… she will. You’re really an awesome guy.”

This made him smile at him, give a nod and breathe in and out slowly.

“Thanks… I appreciate it…”

“Yeah, of course!”

“Can we go now? I’m freezing my butt off and I’m hungry…!”

They all stood back up, walking to Russell’s restaurant. Flippy was smiling, happy to have had that talk, but Cuddles and Toothy? They themselves were now the ones lost in thought.