#why’d they pick that particular song?

[sweetonsugden]

So, in S7x06 “Slash Fiction”, Dean has to ditch Baby for the time being.

He and Sam are in another car and the radio is playing “All Out Of Love” by Air Supply and Dean starts singing along.

The lyrics kinda fit mourning a certain angel. Just sayin….

Also, just sayin…. slash fiction is about romantic fiction of same sex pairings and this song is about romantic loss and sadness.

[Verse 1]

I'm lyin' alone with my head on the phone

Thinkin' of you till it hurts

I know you're hurt too, but what else can we do

Tormented and torn apart

I wish I could carry your smile in my heart

For times when my life seems so low

It would make me believe what tomorrow could bring

When today doesn't really know

Doesn't really know

[Chorus]

I'm all out of love

I'm so lost without you

I know you were right

Believing for so long

I'm all out of love

What am I without you?

I can't be too late

To say that I was so wrong

[Verse 2]

I want you to come back and carry me home

Away from these long, lonely nights

I'm reaching for you, are you feeling it too

Does the feeling seem oh so right

And what would you say if I called on you now

And said that I can't hold on

There's no easy way, it gets harder each day

Please love me or I'll be gone

I'll be gone

[Chorus]

I'm all out of love

I'm so lost without you

I know you were right

Believing for so long

I'm all out of love

What am I without you?

I can't be too late

To say that I was so wrong

[joeshiestyslover]

i hate u

pairing: lsu!fratboy!joe burrow x volleyballplayer!reader

summary: you and joe were together before he transferred to lsu, when he broke your heart, but what happens when you end up transferring to the same college?

warnings: language, angst, joe’s an asshole

a/n: i got some inspo from a request and tied in a sza song bc i love her. also there will be a part 2

lowercase intended

masterlist

today’s the day your entire life changes, but little do you know, in more ways than one. a couple months ago just before your junior year ended, you were offered an athletic scholarship to play volleyball for lsu instead of ohio state. you immediately accepted because as much as you love your home state, you were tired of sitting on the bench waiting to finally play on the court. lsu offered you a starting position, so you would’ve been crazy to not say yes. 

you’re ready to leave ohio behind and forget the bad memories, well one bad memory in particular. you began dating your childhood best friend in college, after waiting for him to love you back your entire childhood. ever since you met, you both were inseparable, doing absolutely everything together, including college when you both were accepted to ohio state. the moment you started dating, you were the happiest you had been in a long time, and that happiness you thought would last forever, it only lasted three years. 

he decided to transfer from ohio state to lsu to play football because he was never given the chance to be starting quarterback, and lsu just happened to give him that chance. you were worried at first because he was going to be the furthest away that he had ever been, but he was quick to reassure you everything was going to be fine and that he was never going to forget about you or neglect you. 

oh, how you wish you never believed his bullshit lies.

after a couple weeks of him being in louisiana, he started to call less, basically ignoring your entire existence. you had planned to talk to him about it one night over facetime, but that morning you received a text from him that simply read, i think we need to take a break. you texted and called himnumerous times, trying to get him to explain, but he never responded or picked up your calls. after hundreds of unread texts and voicemails, you gave up. you still tried to keep up with him, looking at his social media accounts, until one day, when you checked a post he was tagged in, you saw him at a party making out with a girl that was perched on his lap. your heart broke, and you decided to block him on everything so you could move on; something that he had clearly already done. 

you are currently carrying the last of your boxes into your dorm room, chatting with your new roommate, eve. “so, why’d you transfer here again?” she asks you. “volleyball. i was tired of sitting on the bench all season.” you respond. “all season? damn.” “yeah i know. it fucking sucked, but that’s why i’m here now.” you tell eve. you finally finish carrying your boxes, and you decide to unpack tomorrow. you lie down onto your bed with a huff, “i forgot how much i hate moving.” you joke. suddenly, you hear a knock at your door, and eve jumps up to answer it. as she opens the door, she exclaims, “joe!”

no. it can’t be.

“oh my god, you have to meet my new roommate. y/n! come over here and meet joe!” you stand up, and slowly start to make your way towards the door. you look at the man in front of you, and make eye contact with him. “y/n!” joe exclaims. “it’s good to see you!” you only offer a small smile in return. “wait, do you two know each other?” eve questions, looking between you and joe. “umm just in passing.” you say, and joe gives you a confused look. “okay? me and joe are going to a party, so i probably won’t be back until after you fall asleep; so i’ll see you later, alright?” eve says. “yeah okay.” you reply as she walks out with joe. as you shut the door, you lean your back against it. “oh my fucking god this can’t be happening to me.” you say quietly to yourself. 

the next few days go by relatively smooth, with you finding your way around, getting your jersey along with your practice schedule, and adjusting to your new classes. you even were able to make a friend in your econ class, ja’marr. ja’marr told you that he’s a wide receiver for the football team, so you knew that he knows joe as well. about a week later, your roommate asks you the question you’ve been dreading. “how do you really know joe because the way he looked at you made it seem there’s more to the two of you than you let on.” you didn’t know how to answer her. you want to tell the truth, but do you want to trust someone you barely know with one of your worst memories? 

“if i tell you this, you cannot tell anyone, okay?” you tell her seriously. she nods, waiting for you to continue. “so, joe and i sorta dated back when we both went to ohio state.” “oh my god really?” she asks, shocked. “wait, there’s more. not only did we date, we were best friends since like childhood. he was literally my next-door neighbor.” eve’s jaw drops. “what happened between you two?” she inquires. “he broke up with me a couple weeks after he transferred here, over text.” “no! over text?! what a douche!” she exclaims. “i know, but after a while, i got over it, and now i’m here.” you say to her. “holy shit. that’s so fucked up, and i promise i won’t tell anyone.” “thank you eve.” you tell her. “but i am going to give you my honest opinion. i think you should talk to joe.” “no.” you have no interest in talking to that sleazeball. “why not? you two can finally clear the air and move on! don’t you want that?” eve tries to reason. “if he wanted to clear the air, he would have done that when he first broke up with me instead of being a coward and not responding to my texts or calls.” you state. 

almost on cue, you hear a knock at the door, maybe it’s one of eve’s friends. you really hope so. “oh hi joe. can you give me and y/n a sec? thanks.” she shuts the door, and you stand up from your bed. “do not tell me you brought him here eve!” you raise your voice slightly. “listen i had no idea about your history with him, so i invited him over here yesterday to watch a movie. i’m so sorry!” eve apologizes. “it’s fine. i’ll just go. text me when he leaves.” “come on, y/n! i think he actually wants to see you!” she says. “well, tough because i don’t want to see him.” you begin to walk towards the door. “please! just stay for a little while! if it gets too much for you, i’ll ask him to leave. please stay.” eve begs. “fine, but you owe me big time.”

eve opens the door, and there stands the boy you fell in love with almost twenty years ago. you briefly make eye contact before looking back at your roommate. “okay joe, come on in. i’ll put on the movie.” you try your best not to look at his face as you both sit down on the beanbags on your floor. the awkward silence deafening until joe speaks up, “so y/n, how have you been?” “umm since you broke my heart, then ran off like a coward? oh i’m just peachy keen!” you say back to him sarcastically, not bothering to make eye contact with him. your remark seems to shut him up until eve comes back over to the both of you after starting the movie.

all throughout the movie, you notice joe stealing glances at you every so often, but you would be lying if you said you weren’t doing the same. once the movie’s over, you’re waiting for eve to kick his sorry ass out of your dorm. for some reason, he isn’t leaving, and you try to get eve’s attention, but she’s too caught up in some conversation with joe. finally, eve walks over to you, and joe is still not leaving. “so umm, i know i said i would tell him to leave, but he wants to talk to you.” she says sheepishly. you sigh, knowing how stubborn joe can be. “five minutes. that’s it.” you tell her. she nods and walks back over to joe, and he looks back at you with a look in his eyes that you can’t quite pinpoint. “i’ll be back guys. y/n, please try not to murder him.” eve calls out to the both of you. 

“so what do you want to talk about?” you ask, breaking the uncomfortable silence. “i just wanted to tell you that i’m so sorry for what i did to you. i was an asshole and you didn’t deserve it. i just want you to know i never fell out of love with you. hell, i still love you, but-” “joe, stop.” you cut him off. “you don’t get to say you’re sorry because you sure as hell weren’t sorry when you broke my heart a year ago.” you say, coldly. “i know that i can never change what i did to you, but i just want you to know that i really am sorry, even if you don’t believe me.” you can’t believe what you’re hearing. “i thought you loved me joe.” you say, feeling the tears welling up in your eyes. “i did love you! i still do!” he starts to raise his voice. “bullshit joe! you’re so fucking selfish! i don’t know why you give a shit all of a sudden! is it because you feel guilty? or do you just feel sorry for me?” you yell. “y/n-” “i don’t care anymore joe! you know why? it’s because you are not the person i fell in love with years ago!” you seethe. “i know, y/n. i know. it wasn’t fair for me to do that to you.” he tells you, looking at his shoes. “you can’t even look at me joe! i mean, did you ever realize you were hurting me? or did you just not care?” “y/n please-” “shut up joe! i hate you! it was so shitty of you to make me feel like that! god, what i would do to make you feel the way i did when you ripped out my heart and stomped on it!” your tears are falling down your face, stalling at your chin, and you don’t even bother to wipe them off. “y/n, just let me explain.” he begs you. “no! you had your chance to explain while you were off fucking random girls last year! you know what joe? fuck you!” a silence takes over the room, and you decide that you’re done with this conversation and joe. “get out.” you say calmly, looking him straight in the eye. “what?” joe’s voice wavers slightly. “you heard me. i said five minutes and it’s been five minutes. it’s time for you to leave.” “okay i understand.” he begins to walk towards you door, but stops to tell you, “just so you know, it has always been you, y/n. i never stopped loving you.”, his voice breaking on the last word, but you just give him a slight nod before he walks out of your dorm.

you walk over to your bed and sit down, staring at the ground. a wave of emotion washes over you, and you start to sob uncontrollably, your chest heaving, feeling as if you can’t breathe. you don’t notice eve being in the room until you feel you bed dip next to you, and her arms wrap around you. you lean into her as she comforts you and tries to calm you down. you don’t know when you could ever forgive joe for what he did to you, but it certainly isn’t now.

a/n: i kinda hate this but oh well

[eddiemunsonw]

Hopelessly Devoted To You

Steddie drabble :)

Summary: Steve sings his heart out, breaking Eddie's in the process

CW/Disclaimer: Slight angst, mainly because Eddie jumps to conclusions, but it ends with fluff <3

Author's note: Love my clueless boy

Words: 1772

Karaoke Night. Whoever’s idea that was deserved many things, varying from a kiss to a punch because of what it was doing to Eddie currently. Or rather, what Steve was doing to him. Of course the fucker had picked something that would make his heartrate go alarmingly high and his pants uncomfortably tight. Most of all though, he was hurting by the way Steve sang it. His voice was good. Just the perfect kind of soft, warm and laced with emotion which seemed to have built up for a while. Who would have thought tonight would end with Eddie crumbling apart watching Steve sing “Hopelessly Devoted To You”? He sure as fuck didn’t. Eddie watched as Steve’s eyebrows knit together, his hand clutching the microphone just a little tighter and he allowed himself to wonder briefly who he could be singing about. Imagined Steve was singing about him, just to crush his own dreams when the realization kicked in that Steve would never, ever sing such a heartfelt song about him. Not Steve. Not ever.

Eddie’s grip on his knees was straining as he watched him. Seeing him getting lost in his own feelings like that, he felt like an idiot for thinking he ever stood a chance. He could see how Nancy was looking at him. Of course it was her. The one that got away, the one that broke his heart and still carried it around to this day. While Eddie didn’t think Nancy was exactly right for him, he understood why Steve fell for her. She was caring, sweet, and strong. Pretty too. His eyes felt a bit watery near the end but he blamed it on the smoke machine that Argyle had brought along. Steve deserved someone who cared as much for him as he did about them. The person he was singing about. If it wasn’t Nancy, then… He shuddered. He didn’t even want to think about a new person stealing his heart. Fuck. What if it was a guy? Ever since he learned that Steve swung both ways, it had given him more despair than anything else. A second of euphoria, then the realization that he may be a guy but he was still nowhere near Steve’s… He was no match for all the pretty guys out there. Steve would probably get swept up by some type of golden retriever surfer guy who also happened to be romantic or something. Fuck.

Steve sat down next to him, his leg bumping into his, his hand momentarily resting on his knee when he adjusted himself. His hand lingering for… no good reason at all. It drove Eddie mad. He also missed it when it was gone. Eddie relished in the slightest pressure that his knee gave against his own and even indulged by slightly pressing his own too under the guise of a manspread. Steve didn’t seem to mind. Christ, he was pathetic.

“Steve? Can you show me where the snacks are?” Nancy interrupted his thoughts instantly and he cursed her as Steve leaned away from him to angle his body towards Nancy. He glanced down at Steve’s feet, angled in her direction. It was stupid, he knew it didn’t make sense. It was only natural that your feet pointed in the direction of the person you were talking to. It didn’t have to mean anyth—

“They’re in the left cabinet of the—”

“Steve. Show me, please?”

Now what the fuck was up with that? Steve mumbled a soft “Oh,” before getting up and joining Nancy in the kitchen. Which was way too far away and behind a wall meaning Eddie had no way to see what was happening over there. Unless…

“Gonna direct my juices towards the sewers.” He announced to no one in particular.

Robin cringed. “Why’d you have to say it like that?”

“Gonna send them on a journey amongst feces and yellow waters? Better?”

“Just go take the piss, dude, Jesus.”

Eddie snorted and headed for the hallway, halting once he found a spot to lurk from. Christ. What was he doing? He could see Nancy was looking up at him with big eyes, she almost looked concerned. Eddie pierced his ears and tried his best to eavesdrop.

“... that song I just sang? It was… about you.”

Fuck. Fuck shit fuck FUCK. It took all of his restraint not to bang the wall with his fist. He hated being right. Downright hated it. 

“Steve…” 

Nope, nope. He was going to take a piss and then fuck off. He could claim he wasn’t feeling well, whatever. There was no way he was staying. 

His hands were shaking still when he left the bathroom and when he spotted them hugging, still in the same fucking spot, from the corner of his eye he’d had enough. He wasn’t going to wait politely for them to get back to the living room either. He was just gonna get his jacket and—

“Jesus, you look like you’ve just seen a ghost, Eddie,” Robin remarked as he pulled his jacket from a chair. Then, in a more serious tone: “Are you alright?”

Eddie shook his head. “Not feeling too great Buckley. I blame that weird lookin’ pepperoni slice on my pizza earlier.”

“Don’t insult the Abraham Lincoln pepperoni like that.”

“Still no clue how you saw that in it. Anyway, I’m out. Have a good one.”

“Don’t forget to say goodbye to Steve!” she called after him. “And Nancy!”

“Already did,” he lied before he headed through the door. He could always pretend he was feeling so light in the head he had dreamt the encounter. The gravel crunched under his Reeboks as he crossed the path towards his van and he only realized he was crying when his vision got blurry when there was no reason for it.

“Munson! Eddie! Wait up!” 

Fucking hell. Not now. Still. Who could say no to an angel, right? He stopped in his tracks and quickly wiped some tears away as quickly as he could without looking suspicious before he turned around.

“Harrington. Sorry dude, didn’t mean to leave so quickly but,” he gestured at his stomach, “out of my control.”

“You didn’t say goodbye,” Steve, ever the sentimental guy. Looked almost upset by it. Probably the beer intake. “You need a ride?” 

“You’ve been drinking a lot more than me, sweetheart.” Fuck.

Steve’s cheeks turned pink, but Eddie didn’t exactly notice. He was too busy staring at his hands after his slip up.

“Uhm… maybe. But. Uhm. I don’t know, I could come with you? Make sure you’re alright?”

“I wouldn’t want to keep you away from your people.” From Nancy.

“O-Or you could stay? My room is soundproof so you won’t be disturbed or anything and that way I can check in on you or you could—”

“Steve.” Eddie couldn’t handle his kindness. Not now. “I’m fine.”

“You’re clearly not fine. What’s going on that got you in literal,” Steve gestured wilder than he meant to, “tears? That’s not fine.”

“Hay fever, whatever, I don’t fucking know, man. I just know I gotta… go.”

“Eddie. Talk to me man, c’mon. Robin said you looked like shit all of a sudden.”

Eddie sighed loudly, covered his face with his hands and groaned exasperatedly. Whatever, right? He couldn’t possibly continue to hang out with them anyway if Steve got back together with Nancy. It would fucking break him so why the fuck not. Honesty it was.

“It’s really fucking stupid, Steve.”

“It’s not stupid, Eddie. I promise.” 

A hand on his shoulder. Christ this man was gonna kill him one way or another, wasn’t he?

“The song you sang. I heard you say—”

“Oh, fuck. You heard that?” Steve suddenly sounded nervous. Christ, as if he wasn’t obvious. Everyone probably knew about his never ending love for her.

“I did. And it’s fine. I just can’t, uhm. I like you, y’know, it’s just—”

“Not like that. Yup, yeah. Got it. Alright. Thought as much, I mean I’m not cool or anything so—”

Eddie held up his hand and pinched his brows together.

“Hold up. What?”

“What?” Steve asked in return.

“I’m saying you told Nancy you sang about her and that it broke me a little because I have a stupid crush on you. What the hell are you saying? What do you mean you’re not cool? Huh?”

“You— What?” Steve laughed nervously. “Wow I uhm. Shit. Hah. Uhm, no I… Nancy? No. I was talking about you when I said that to her, man.” 

“You literally said ‘That song I just sang? It was about you.’, how was that about me?”

“No, I was discussing a hypothetical way of telling you. Nancy pulled me apart to tell me I should let you know. Because apparently it was so obvious it was hard to watch. So I said that I couldn’t just say… and I guess that’s where you picked up the rest. You have a crush on me?”

Eddie blushed furiously and waved his words away with his hand.

“You’re hopelessly devoted to me?”

Steve looked away as a chuckle escaped him.

“Jesus Eddie, it sounds so cringy when you put it like that.”

“Just quoting you here, man. Besides… I think it was fucking beautiful, what you did back there. Like, I had tears in my fucking eyes because I wanted to beat up whoever made you feel this way.”

They gazed at each other for a moment, letting Eddie’s words dance around them, hopeful, eager to land in each of their brains as a promise.

“Well, good luck at beating yourself up then,” Steve muttered, his eyes avoiding him as his cheeks turned a deeper shade of pink.

“I told myself you deserve someone who cared about you as much as you cared about that person. But since apparently I— Would you… maybe, uhm.” Eddie was lost for words. Eddie, who always had something to say and then some, was lost for words.

“Yes.” Steve nodded for emphasis, took one step closer and enclosed his arms around Eddie’s waist. “Yes.”

“Oh…,” Eddie swallowed, “o-okay. Good. ‘Cause I got a lot of it, y’know. Care and stuff.”

“Yeah? How about you prove it?”

Eddie looked at him, swallowing as he tried to process what Steve was asking him to do.

“H-How do I…”

Steve’s lips were on his first. Sealing his answer between them as his fingers drummed a gentle melody on Eddie’s back. It didn’t take a genius, but a guy who knew his music, to recognize the rhythm of the song that brought them here. Hopelessly Devoted To You.

[420pogpills]

masterpost of random epic dnf moments

i find so much comfort in these posts that just contain links to loads and loads of epic clips so i wanted to make one of my favourite george&dream moments :’)... this took me several days okay.

in no particular order whatsoever

(♥♥♥) “so...dream.” “what?” “um, hello.” “hi”

(♡♡♡) “george!” “yeah?” “HEY 😁”

(♥♥♥) “that is actually george’s fish” “oh what? i will keep it safe” (bonus: giving fish back)

(♡♡♡) “you two and your inside jokes, you guys are such good friends”

(♥♥♥) “i saw an interesting donation on your stream”

(♡♡♡) “trust me. george - i’m handling it.”

(♥♥♥) “i’m not gonna be hurt if dream is next to me”

(♡♡♡) “you’re making me laugh it’s not even fair!”

(♥♥♥) “i shot you once” “no you shot me multiple times”

(♡♡♡) “oh that’s so hot”

(♥♥♥) “what you gonna do, fight me?”

(♡♡♡) “dream has my number because dream needs me sometimes”

(♥♥♥) “stop you’re hurting me” “i’m hurting you?”

(♡♡♡) “i’m very similar to george so i probably won't like it”

(♥♥♥) “i said i’m in the hot tub right now, he said ‘prove it’”

(♡♡♡) “dream stop killing me!”

(♥♥♥) “i’ve always wanted to explore my sexuality”

(♡♡♡) “this is what happens when you fall down my trap”

(♥♥♥) “i’m so used to having your attention 24/7″

(♡♡♡) “why are you so mean dream?”

(♥♥♥) “you know who reminds me of nemo? george”

(♡♡♡) “first thing’s first-” “i’m the realest”

(♥♥♥) “come hide with me”

(♡♡♡) “he looks so handsome, look at him, look at george”

(♥♥♥) “oh george” “oh dream”

(♡♡♡) “you love me?” “yes, i do”

(♥♥♥) “be careful george”

(♡♡♡) “you’re laughing at every different word i say”

(♥♥♥) “can i have the sword dream?” “say that you love me”

(♡♡♡) “just hug me george”

(♥♥♥) “i’m the mememan, my milk is delicious”

(♡♡♡) “george i’m gonna blow up - come with me”

(♥♥♥) “you couldn’t see what dream was doing”

(♡♡♡) “george is easily a top 10 mcc player”

(♥♥♥) “what would you say my weakness is?” “me”

(♡♡♡) “we were getting this computer repair guy - oh my god”

(♥♥♥) “every time you get near me you just get all red”

(♡♡♡) “you would follow me down here”

(♥♥♥) “dream is a simp for me” “yeah”

(♡♡♡) “nice dream!”

(♥♥♥) “smile - you see him everyday”

(♡♡♡) “you deserve punishment george”

(♥♥♥) “what are you doing george?” “i’m on twitter”

(♡♡♡) “george george george you look amazing george”

(♥♥♥) “you don’t have to follow me everywhere”

(♡♡♡) “get away from dream!”

(♥♥♥) “we’re in the stars”

(♡♡♡) thirdwheelboyhalo

(♥♥♥) “dream is so delightful”

(♡♡♡) “DREAM LET’S GO!”

(♥♥♥) “follow me, i’ll follow you actually - just take me”

(♡♡♡) “dream...” “i had to george, i had to”

(♥♥♥) “i trust my dream”

(♡♡♡) “you don’t brag about your looks”

(♥���♥) “george just tell me you love me”

(♡♡♡) “someone said ‘dream do you think george is cute’?”

(♥♥♥) “kiss george” “that’s a pretty good forfeit”

(♡♡♡) “a plane ticket to dream’s house”

(♥♥♥) “okay that was pretty pog”

(♡♡♡) “i’ve been too focused on george”

(♥♥♥) little compilation

(♡♡♡) “why’d you say it like that?”

(♥♥♥) “dream’s trying to kill me, he’s killing me!”

(♡♡♡) “if you won, what would be your first date with george?”

(♥♥♥) “we do everything together”

(♡♡♡) “answer my question!”

(♥♥♥) “oh. yeah. but george too.”

(♡♡♡) “if you win, you have to kiss dream!”

(♥♥♥) “dream... i’m messing up” “oh are you still streaming?”

(♡♡♡) “be careful”

(♥♥♥) suspicious dancing

(♡♡♡) “don’t be greedy george”

(♥♥♥) just... this whole edit

(♡♡♡) “george is mine, go away”

(♥♥♥) “dreeeaaaaam i know you wanna help”

(♡♡♡) “george you’re a genius, george kiss me!”

(♥♥♥) “he was wearing like an oversized dream smile hoodie”

(♡♡♡) george compilation 10/10

(♥♥♥) “i don’t wanna hear you laugh”

(♡♡♡) “whenever dream tries to get a new speed run record he just disappears for a month”

(♥♥♥) laughing face to face

(♡♡♡) “can i have some stuff?”

(♥♥♥) “geoorrgeeee”

(♡♡♡) “he lives in your head actually rent free”

(♥♥♥) “you know quite often we just know what we’re talking about?”

(♡♡♡) “now it backfired because george knows me”

(♥♥♥) “he’s small it’s different”

(♡♡♡) “COME HERE GEORGE!”

(♥♥♥) “you can be my valentine if you want george”

(♡♡♡) “no mom no he broke up with me” (bonus: “george denied me”)

(♥♥♥) “just explain your reasoning for denying me” “you didn't mean it”

(♡♡♡) “goodnight george, goodnight gogy”

(♥♥♥) “dream just saved something from snapchat!”

(♡♡♡) “i’m breaking you out!”

(♥♥♥) “you’ll get punished george"

(♡♡♡) “guys this is like the cutest photo of george ever”

(♥♥♥) “guys i’m opening a new business” “selling george pictures?”

(♡♡♡) “don’t attack the wolf dream i’m not there to save you”

(♥♥♥) “you were like ‘you have to praise me now for 5 minutes’”

(♡♡♡) “why don’t you think i’m here?”

(♥♥♥) “we were playing geoguessr the other day”

(♡♡♡) “i am wheezing and dying and george is dying with me”

(♥♥♥) “you used to get mad at me for placing blocks beneath myself”

(♡♡♡) “you have to clip that” “no”

(♥♥♥) “c’mere”

(♡♡♡) “i almost died, water me!”

(♥♥♥) “me and george”

(♡♡♡) “i wouldn’t want to do it unless he’s here”

(♥♥♥) “me and george were literally holding hands in the hallway”

(♡♡♡) “you should get negative points if you’re an idiot”

(♥♥♥) “kiss”

(♡♡♡) “i thought you might want to confess something”

(♥♥♥) “we’ve been talking to each other for 10 hours?”

(♡♡♡) “i’m not here to disappoint you or anything”

(♥♥♥) “mimic my yawn, that means you love me you know that right?”

(♡♡♡) “i’m not helping you this round” “i need you”

(♥♥♥) “we’re literally on a boat”

(♡♡♡) “you’re so ridiculous”

(♥♥♥) “i fell asleep in a call with george”

(♡♡♡) “wow george you’re great”

(♥♥♥) “dream just went 👉🏻👉🏻”

(♡♡♡) “yessss let’s go” “wait let me pick you up!”

(♥♥♥) “dream sort this out!” “alright wait turn around”

(♡♡♡) “you have pretty privilege”

(♥♥♥) “george i have something that will cheer you up george”

(♡♡♡) “i’ve been by your side since the beginning george”

(♥♥♥) “sitting here forced to drink water, it has absolutely no flavour”

(♡♡♡) “gives back i’ll be good” “no no you won’t”

(♥♥♥) “don’t worry. i’m here george”

(♡♡♡) “dream say hi” “hi”

(♥♥♥) “so george why are you laying in bed while you’re talking to dream?”

(♡♡♡) “where did george go, george is not found”

(♥♥♥) “come over here greg i will save the day” “francis!”

(♡♡♡) “that’s not what you told me last night”

(♥♥♥) “please just swim drive the boat drive the boat”

(♡♡♡) “before i even met you, you had this ginormous impact”

(♥♥♥) “you’re not worthless george we love you”

(♡♡♡) “george is like the biggest idiot”

(♥♥♥) “alright fine i’ll play one more”

(♡♡♡) “you see george everywhere. you see what you wanna see”

(♥♥♥) “guess united kingdom because someone you love lives there”

(♡♡♡) “george don’t leave me”

(♥♥♥) “you say bolivia george?”

(♡♡♡) “why are you so feral?”

(♥♥♥) “you’re an idiot” “you’re the one who’s screaming to do it”

(♡♡♡) “”you’re so oh my god” “you’re so annoying”

(♥♥♥) “i trust you so m-so often”

(♡♡♡) “now i have you right where i want you”

(♥♥♥) “heads” “alright it was heads”

(♡♡♡) “george you’re the hottest piece of ass in dreamhunt”

(♥♥♥) “you said ‘just woke up’ and i said ‘me too, in sync bby’”

(♡♡♡) “dnf arc? yeah maybe”

(♥♥♥) *george shooting dnf into wall on csgo*

(♡♡♡) “george and dream’s brotherly relationship is so iconic”

(♥♥♥) “you can’t 👹LEAVE👹 it’s not allowed”

(♡♡♡) “oh we’re finishing each other’s sentences right now”

(♥♥♥) “you said you were gonna what, kiss me or something like that?”

(♡♡♡) “do you have a song that makes you think of dream?”

(♥♥♥) “here george take this take this george”

(♡♡♡) “hey dream” “hey george”

(♥♥♥) “do you have a crush on dream?” “yes, go on”

(♡♡♡) “i am proud of you” “wow thank you dream”

(♥♥♥) “1 dollar every hour” “for how many hours?”

(♡♡♡) “i clicked skip whoops - wait, where are all my balls?”

(♥♥♥) “get out of here GET OUUUUTTTT”

(♡♡♡) “i’m sleeping for at least 8 hours” “but then we’re gonna be out of sync again”

(♥♥♥) “this is actually disgusting, come to me where are you”

(♡♡♡) “thank you baby... oh no” “WHAT?”

(♥♥♥) “yeah i love dream so much”

(♡♡♡) “yes that is exactly what i was thinking dream”

(♥♥♥) “dream” “hi” “hello i’m streaming” “hi”

(♡♡♡) “mm poor little george”

(♥♥♥) “do you have fifty dollars?”

(♡♡♡) “please please half a heart half a heart!”

(♥♥♥) “that’s okay you wanna be near me, that’s fine”

(♡♡♡) “you would know all about the simp handbook wouldn’t you”

(♥♥♥) “please i need you” “i do need you”

(♡♡♡) “kill him!...or her.. or it..”

(♥♥♥) “cause he’s little gogy”

(♡♡♡) “do your parents know about gream?”

(♥♥♥) just... cuteness

(♡♡♡) “wait george my minecraft’s starting my minecraft’s starting”

(♥♥♥) “te amo sueno”

(♡♡♡) “yeah that was my idea” “yeah just like last night”

(♥♥♥) “you can just say he’s a bottom”

(♡♡♡) this entire video

(♥♥♥) “why are you leaving me?” “alright fine”

(♡♡♡) “george you look good in a suit”

(♥♥♥) “i have a present for george!”

(♡♡♡) “why don’t you want to facetime me?” “i haven’t shaved”

(♥♥♥) “dream’s killing me, why are you killing me?”

(♡♡♡) “george i thought you were going to choose me”

(♥♥♥) “you wanna watch a beautiful sunset? just for you dream”

(♡♡♡) “we don’t text that much” “we text everyday”

(♥♥♥) “georgie poooo come here”

(♡♡♡) “oh beat me dream beat me”

(♥♥♥) “you are so impressive dream”

(♡♡♡) “i just ran for like a million hours”

(♥♥♥) “mydic--kslong has subscribed, thank you..”

(♡♡♡) all of these moments are too funny

(♥♥♥) “dreeaaaam! loooook!” “oh he’s cute”

(♡♡♡) “oh george~” “this is scary”

(♥♥♥) “george do that water drop sound”

(♡♡♡) “why is everyone saying ‘george explain the text?’”

(♥♥♥) “why are you saying it like that?” “that’s how you said it”

(♡♡♡) “i’m going to my secret stash”

(♥♥♥) “it said ‘name a dessert’” “you should’ve put me”

(♡♡♡) “i need to come” “you wanna come?”

(♥♥♥) “i have missed your face!”

(♡♡♡) just.. this entire video

(♥♥♥) more on george sleep talking

(♡♡♡) “that’s the same height difference between me and you george”

(♥♥♥) “you’re doing extremely well george. just calm down.”

(♡♡♡) “george~” “stOP. stop it”

(♥♥♥) “i know dream loves me a lot but unfortunately i don’t love him back”

(♡♡♡) “it’s fun to make him more afraid”

(♥♥♥) “someone said ‘dream do you think george is cute?’”

(♡♡♡) “oh we know george we know how hot you are”

(♥♥♥) “dream has friendship hacks”

(♡♡♡) “let’s watch a movie” feat. sapnap

(♥♥♥) “the only man i’m into is george”

(♡♡♡) “you broke my heart dream by....breaking my heart”

(♥♥♥) “keep lying to him george”

(♡♡♡) dream team not dnf but i love this so watch it plz

(♥♥♥) “you turn your camera off to sneeze? it’s okay we love you”

(♡♡♡) “dance with me dream”

(♥♥♥) “dweaaaam pleaseeee”

(♡♡♡) “it’s fine dream, i’ll stream another day” “waaaaaaah!”

(♥♥♥) “i just wanna talk to you”

(♡♡♡) “you’re just like interesting in general george”

(♥♥♥) “when’s my birthday dream?”

(♡♡♡) “here these are for you 🌹”

(♥♥♥) “i love you george”

(♡♡♡) “i’ll fight you in sumo when you’re in my house”

(♥♥♥) “we’re going together aaaaah”

(♡♡♡) “guess what, i had faith in you”

(♥♥♥) “or OR.. we could... kiss?”

(♡♡♡) “i haven’t had my first kiss” “that's a lie, you kissed me”

(♥♥♥) “hey dream give me an ak.... please”

AND OF COURSE THERE ARE SO MANY MORE BUT... i cannot do this any longer therefore the rest are compilations because i cannot do this any longer

(♥♥♥) every time george has said ‘i love you’ (kind of) to dream

(♡♡♡) dreamnotfound moments

(♥♥♥) gaymest moments

(♡♡♡) rare moments

(♥♥♥) wholesome

(♡♡♡) idiot compilation

(♥♥♥) love languages compilation

BONUS: this soulmate compilation...

SO ORIGINAL POST - links wouldn’t work when reblogged because it went over link limit with everyone tagged, so i will reblog with everyone who’s clips i’ve included!

[b0amagination]

Hasan and Declan - 9

Series masterlist

Content warnings: mention of water torture, recorded whump, and caning. dubcon touching of wounds, forced cleaning, light tiktok usage and inspiration, niche video game topics.

~~~

I had to split up the audio file for this chapter so click here for (RECORDING PART 2)

Previously…

~~~

“You’ve got half an hour. Spend it however you like, but after that, you’re going to get this blood out of the carpet before it stains.”

Declan stifled a groan, instead opting for a heavy sigh as he laid his head on its side. The blood still pooling in his nose dripped slowly to the ground.

“You need anything before I settle down?” Hasan asked, waving at him for his attention. “I’ve got plenty of beverage choices here. Stain remover, another bottle of chemicals, water…”

“Please…” His tongue felt heavy, and his nose was hard to breathe through.

“Chemicals, you said? Coming right up!” What the fuck.

“W-water!” 

“You really can’t take a joke, hm?” Hasan laughed, bringing over a bottle of water and tilting his chin back. 

“No!” Declan flinched violently. The last thing he needed was further harassment of his recent trauma.

“I’ll leave it right next to you, but you’ve got to tell me that’s what you want, darling.”

“Please, I’ll drink it myself,” he groaned, watching the water bottle touch the ground before Hasan retreated.

He painstakingly propped himself up on his elbow as the bastard flopped effortlessly into an armchair a few feet away. Each shift agitated the welts on his back. A shaking hand brought the bottle to his mouth, a sweet, cold stream of water pouring as steadily as he could. 

Declan closed his mouth, breathing in what air he could from his nose, and swallowed. His throat was beyond sore, and he felt a shiver rush down his spine, but it was good. His body begged for it, even as intuition only remembered suffering.

A few more sips would have to satiate him, because his arms refused to hold him up any longer. 

He kept eyes on Hasan, scrolling through their phone. Short snippets of songs and voice clips came through the speaker, but soon one came that made their face light up.

“Oh, would you look at that!” They glanced at Declan, then turned around the screen so he could see. “That’s McQuinn!”

A quiff of generic brown hair stood out on the screen, but a particular pair of red sunglasses sparked the recognition in Declan’s mind.

“...isn’t that the guy who cosplays Lightning McQueen?” What a strangely familiar face to see in a place like this.

“He was!”

“Damn, why’d he stop? I haven’t seen him on my for you page in a bit…” He allowed himself to reminisce, like his TikTok for you page was something he’d be able to see any time soon.

“Well… do you remember the man I picked up for my friend?” Hasan grinned.

The faint smile over his face dropped and Declan’s eyes went wide. Shot right back down to reality.

“No…”

“Hell yeah! He’s in Adela’s basement as we speak!” Hasan exclaimed, swiping through their phone and turning it back around to show the same man, frightened, bound, and gagged in a wooden crate.

“Oh my god. Oh my god.”

“It’s not-”

“You’re a freak!” Declan shouted. There was no reasoning or excuse that could make this okay.

“Do we really need to go over that again? This can’t possibly come as a surprise to you.”

He sighed into the carpet, already starting to smell of iron. Or maybe that was his nose. Soft twitches of his face kept disturbing it.

“Ooh, but speaking of captives’ social media…” Hasan leaned back, and Declan already knew what he was searching up. “Out of three Declan Labelles on Instagram—I looked at your ID—only one of them has a trans flag in his bio, fifty-one followers, and of course, those iconic blue bangs. But there’s only one problem! Some silly thing decided to keep his account private~!”

“Fuck off- hey!” They grabbed his hand and pressed his thumb to the scanner of a phone they’d just whipped out of their pocket. Hasan fist pumped when it unlocked, and Declan only realized it was his phone when it was in Hasan’s hands. 

“There we go... I already stripped all communication, location, or cellular capabilities so we don’t have to worry about anyone finding you, but I’m keeping it active on my internet for situations like this! Now, if you don’t mind, I’ll enter my fingerprint in here.”

Declan was already lost in his head as they did that, because if they found his Instagram they could see his linktree, and if they could see his linktree they found-

“But that’s not the main attraction, of course. You didn’t tell me you’re a streamer!”

“You didn’t fucking ask,” he grunted. 

“Beside the point. I’ve refrained from snooping around too awful much, but I’ve gathered you’re a video game speedrunner?” Hasan asked.

“Surprised you know what that means.”

“They’re nice background noise sometimes. Not that I could ever perform those glitches myself.”

“Cool.” Great. Something else for his captor to ruin.

He heard his own voice coming from the speaker, laughing and wheezing over a corrupted file. It cut out and was replaced by the celebration of his most recent personal best, only a week ago. Hearing his own laugh, so unaware of what was to come, made his breath catch in his throat.

“Turn that off,” he pleaded weakly.

“Come on, I’d like to get to know you!”

“I’m right here. Talk to me.” Declan rolled his eyes.

“We both know this isn’t the real you. You’re angry and hurt, and some may call that one’s true colors, but Declan isn’t this miserable thing at his core,” Hasan said, giving him the grossest pitying look.

“Stop torturing me and I might let you have a glimpse.”

“Goodness, isn’t somebody extreme!” They put a hand over their chest and pulled back.

“Asking to not be torn apart is a reasonable request, I think!”

“Here, here’s an archive video on your YouTube. Listen to this.” His own voice came through the speaker once again, over a music track.

“...and we’re live…? Woo, we’re live! Alright, uh, hey all, I’m Cy or Cybermen, my pronouns are he/him, and today I’m gonna show off a run of Donkey Kong Barrel Blast!” The audio paused, and Hasan turned back to him.

“See what I mean? So much brighter, more alive. Though, playing a game that uses a pair of bongos as controllers.”

“Like I said, you could have that for the low, low price of-”

“-not hurting you, and letting you go home, reimbursing you for this inconvenience, and disappearing off the face of the earth, of course, of course. Because you’re only here so I can experience your joy,”

“Shut up, you fucking sadist!” Declan grit his teeth to keep something more desperate from coming out.

“Mmmh, no, thank you. Just sit down and listen for a while.”

They hit play on the video again, watching along as Declan started the game, commentating on exploits and difficulties of individual levels. Listening to something so separated from his current self was a very strange experience. He tried to find comfort in the familiarity and success. That had been a particularly good run, especially considering how nervous he’d been about performing it in front of a large audience.

Declan had settled into the situation when a ding interrupted the video, and Hasan clicked on it.

“Oh my, looks like Lee had plenty to say about that video!” they smiled, opening the message instead. “Lee’s my boyfriend, by the way.” 

Yes. He’d gathered that from the context. Hasan adopted a slightly more American accent and read it off.

“Babe you know I never questioned you for a second, but he’s perfect. Those noises, mmmmm and he took it well for a first timer. Nice even lines down his back too. If I didn’t know you, I might think you’re more experienced.

“I’m so proud of how you handled that little escape attempt. You’re doing such a good job already and I can’t wait to be with you again.

“Please keep a proper eye on him though. I’d truly hate for any punishment to come to you, be it at my hands or the law’s.”

Oh, gross. That was gross. Hearing himself talked about like he wasn’t even there, which he didn’t have to be if Hasan didn’t read that out… and talked about like that. Like he was there to look good for them, like Hasan was the person in the right here, like any of this nightmare was reason to praise the instigator.

Declan didn’t say anything.

“I must say, I have to agree,” Hasan said.

“Good, because I wasn’t entirely sure if you were a creep yet.” Delcan sighed, knowing the insult wasn’t worth shit. He glanced up and the bastard was visibly blushing. They really were deprived.

“Mmhmm,” Hasan nodded absentmindedly, ticked out a text back, paused, and held the phone up. “Say cheese.”

“I’m lactose intolerant,” he muttered to the carpet.

“Close enough. You look cute by the way.”

“No wonder my last relationship didn’t work out. I wasn’t covered in blood.”

“Which means this one will inevitably last now that we understand the issue,” they finished, effortlessly, and Declan didn’t want to muster up the energy or effort to do more than roll his eyes. “Hey, Adela sent a heart of approval! The rest of the chat seems very excited as well.”

“I thought that was just for Lee.”

“Eh, spread the wealth and all that,” they waved him off, unpausing the speedrun video.

And it was right back to listening to game sounds and commentary. Like that wasn’t incredibly violating and invasive. Goddd and it was probably his fault too for saying how much it bothered him. Idiot!

Eventually, Hasan paused it once again.

“Alright. What do you say about cleaning that carpet now?”

“I say I feel like I’m gonna pass out,” Declan groaned.

“And if I offer you two granola bars in return for doing it?”

“You’re a dick.”

Hasan pretended to think for a moment.

“I can bump it up to three.” It sounded like a game show offer.

“You’re gonna make me do it anyway.”

“But I’m being so generous!” Yep, just as generous as those scammy hosts.

“Help me up.”

“That’ll cost you a granola bar.” Declan desperately wished he could switch the channel of his life.

“And if I ask you to do it without hurting me?” He was too tired to care that his question was a stupid one. Not too tired not to internally acknowledge it, though.

“Two.”

“Hurt me, then.” He kept his expression carefully flat, but Hasan lit up.

“Wow, those are certainly not words I expected to hear from you today!”

“Splendid. Brilliant. Get off your ass.”

“Goodness, not if you’re going to keep pretending these are commands for you to give. Ask me, and I’ll see how I want to answer.”

“Hey Hasan, do you wanna help me get up?” he asked flatly.

“Aww sure, Dec, I’d be glad to!”

They stood and approached him, sneering at the bloody carpet before straddling the small of Declan’s back.

“Ow, fuck-!”

“You signed up for this. No complaints.” Hands slid under his shoulders and pulled him up. They came together, shifting all of the welts across them, and Declan cried out.

“I didn’t- aaaagh! I didn’t say I’d take it well!”

“Just scream then. That’s more than enough for me. Now put your elbows under you before I drop your torso to the ground.”

Declan did, and once they’d gotten up, he tried to pull his knees under him too. Hasan helped. They lifted his hips. 

“Alright, that’s enough. You’ve done your granola bar’s worth of work,” he shooed them away.

“That I have. Are you sure you’ll be able to get this done?”

“You’re the one who beat me up and then told me I had to.”

“Sue me for caring,” Hasan held up their hands, but they couldn’t commit to the act.

“You’re concerned about your precious carpet. Not me.”

“And you’re the one taking care of it.” They didn’t deny his statement.

“Am I done after this?” 

“If I say yes, will you get on with it?”

“I reserve the right to wonder why I bothered asking,” Declan groaned.

“If you’re craving motivation, I can offer to step on you in the next five seconds if you don’t grab the stain remover.”

“Consider it done.” Declan waved a hand whimsically and reached over to the spray bottle. He sat on his heels to read the instructions on the back. “Spray on the area enough to soak it through. Rub in, and wait five minutes. Then, blot dry with a towel until the stain is no longer visible.”

“Read like someone who has never cleaned anything before.” They gave him a sarcastic thumbs up.

“That’s literally just the instructions.”

“Exactly. You don’t read the instructions.”

“Well. I do,” he grumbled. “Shut up unless you want your carpet ruined.”

“Don’t tell me what to do unless you want your mouth ruined.”

He shut up. He’d brushed against enough limits already.

Foamy spray soaked into the carpet below Declan, and he crawled across the floor, only as far as he needed to cover all the bloodstains. 

He took a rag and worked it in, regretting not doing so on the first pass. He had to sit up a few times to ensure that he wasn’t about to pass out, continuing at Hasan’s insistence. If they wanted the stain to come out completely they should’ve been helping. Having the sickly torture victim clean their floor wasn’t going to end in a job well done, which was brushed off every time Declan brought it up.

It was a slight relief to see rusty red and brown soaking into that same rag just minutes later, but he had to dig into the carpet to reach the lowest fibers. Declan put all of his weight on his trembling arms, and eventually switched to his knees. This was not worth two granola bars in the slightest, but they surely beat laying here for hours more, being stared at and forced to listen to his own voice, presumably until he finished. 

But now he was finally there, he sighed to himself, soaking up the last traces of the cleaner. 

Declan didn’t even wait for Hasan to survey his job before collapsing to the ground and greying out.

~~~

Next...

~~~

Tag list: @suspicious-whumping-egg

Ask to be added or removed!

[bigskydreaming]

Doing some writing today off and on between errands and work, and jumping around various Kings of the Sky installments, specifically Dick, Jason and Cass stuff, so probably gonna post snippets from a bunch of them as I go. 

(Kings of the Sky is an AU that goes canon divergent from the point of Jason calling Dick for advice for dealing with Bruce after the Garzonas case and where things end up going dramatically different from that point on. Including Jason not dying, being part of his own lineup of Titans between Dick and Tim’s, Dick being adopted not long after the Church of Blood incident, Cass being the third Wayne kid to be taken in and adopted and with Tim and Duke being next and then Damian coming along later once they find out about him. This is basically my ‘the family’s alright’ AU with largely ‘Good Dad Bruce’ except for Dick and then Jason yelling some sense into him about the other, respectively, in the first two installments, just FYI).

Anyway, this bit is from a story called “In Their Shadows Grow Trees Of Good and Evil,” set about a year after Cass has been adopted, when she and Jason are both sixteen and Dick’s twenty-one. Also just FYI, because canon has never been specific about what ways Cass is neurodivergent due to the comic-book style ‘rewiring’ of her brain so that she could learn to speak later in life, I tend to go with her being dyslexic and having aphasia. She sticks exclusively to sign language and being a silent presence in her costumed personas, so that there’s no chance of people connecting the dots between Black Bat and Cassandra Wayne, as she mostly speaks verbally in her civilian persona and doesn’t hide her aphasia. The reason there’s not likely to be any obvious signs of aphasia in the snippets of her I post is because I wait until I complete something to choose words at random to replace with aphasia-born mixups, so its more realistic and I’m not gearing her dialogue towards deliberately placed moments. Just in case you were wondering.

In Their Shadows Grow Trees of Good and Evil

“Hey Todd,” sneered an exquisitely obnoxious voice. “Why’s your sister so fucking weird?”

Jason sighed the sigh of a soul a mere century into its eternity of damnation as he rose from the lunch table he’d been studying at and crammed the rest of his books into his backpack. Then he pasted a cheerfully bland smile on his face and turned around, geared for academia warfare (teenage prep school edition).

“Hey Craig,” he said brightly. “Why’d you come out of the womb so ugly your parents had to tie a piece of steak around your neck just to get the family dog to go near you? Mysteries abound.”

The advancing junior slowed a step, momentarily rocked by his truly impressive return volley. The grimace Craig’s already gargoyle-esque features twisted into made his face even more unpleasant to look at than usual, which was quite the feat. Jason would have applauded if just looking at it hadn’t already turned him to stone.

But the bargain basement basilisk kept on towards him rather than turn tail and skulk off to pop his emotional blisters, so Jason sighed a sequel to his first one. Looked like it was one of those days where Craig felt up to powering through. Guess someone had eaten their self-esteem Wheaties that morning. Joy.

“You think you’re pretty hot shit, don’t you, Todd?”

Jason shrugged. “I mean, to be honest I kinda have a one track mind, so right now I’m mostly just thinking about punching you in your mistake.”

“My what?”

“Your face,” Jason elaborated with exaggerated patience.

“Huh?”

“Oh my god, I’m saying your face is a mistake. See, its not as fun when I have to stop and explain it to you. Ugh, you ruin everything.”

He neatly sidestepped the older boy as R2-Dumbass stayed frozen, smoke coming off of his internal CPU while trying to catch up. For a second Jason thought he was home free, but then he remembered the universe fucking hated him so haha, sucks to suck. Also, a small crowd had gathered to witness the verbal jousting match, and nothing invigorated an asshole like Craig more than an audience of like-minded peers. So there was that too.

“Whatever. Laugh it up all you want, you little shit,” the junior rallied. “But just remember, mocking your betters will never change the fact that you were born street trash and you’ll be street trash until the day you die.”

Honestly? Not his best effort. Jason almost felt bad using any of his good material. Seemed like overkill at this point. But he did have a strict Scorched Earth policy to maintain, so.....

“Yeah but my dad could buy out and ruin your dad so that means I still win, right?”

He smirked as the barb landed and Craig’s face set into a sunset vista of strangled purple and furious red. Bam. Direct hit.

“Listen, you - “

“Oh for fuck’s sake, it was rhetorical,” Jason interrupted. “I don’t actually care what you think even a little bit. Nobody does. You don’t matter. Please go be irrelevant elsewhere, you’re fucking dismissed, you loser.”

“Speak for yourself, charity case.” Oh goodie, Craig’s backup singers had finally arrived. Now if only he could remember to care enough to learn their names in the first place. Seriously, who told the extras they could have lines? “All the jokes in the world can’t change who and what you are.”

Jason shrugged and continued nonchalantly up the hill to where his sister was standing with arms crossed, staring down at something on the other side.

“True genius is never appreciated in its own time,” he tossed back over his shoulder. “I’m sure I’ll be immortalized in song eventually.”

The mob of morons deigned to let him go without further incident. Though he suspected that had less to do with his scathing wit and more to do with him being headed towards Cass. She was immaculately presented as always, wearing the Gotham Academy uniform like she was born to it despite hating its uncomfortable stiffness every bit as much as he did. But that was just Cass for you. 

For all that she still struggled at times to engage verbally or speak up in social settings, her mastery of body language remained without peer. She could chameleon-camouflage her way into matching poise and posture with anyone - a skill that had allowed her to walk into school on her very first day with her head held high as though she owned everything in her sight. Exuding so much Queen Bee Intimidation Factor even the other hive queens were afraid to approach her  themselves. Sending forth their drones to try and woo her into an alliance, only to see her remain oh-so-casually above it all, a slightly contemptuous smile adorning her lips.

Basically, she scared the shit out of their classmates without them having anywhere close to a true understanding of why, and Jason was outrageously jealous. Rude. Unfair. Why did his siblings always get all the cool toys when all he had was his rakish charm, scintillating intellect and debonair.....nah, who was he kidding. He was fucking awesome. 

“Sup, sis,” he said, cresting the hill to stand beside Cass. “Just FYI, I just took a popularity bullet for you, which means you owe me your dessert tonight. Its a family rule that’s totally a real thing and definitely not something I just made up right now because Alf is making chocolate soufflé.”

She made no acknowledgment and remained stock still, a Colossus at Rhodes peering down into the shifting shadows of the parking lot below.

He peered down as well, though with absolutely no idea what they were looking at. Solidarity, yo.

“So are we staring fixedly at anything in particular, or should I just pick my own spot and commit?”

His humor was totally wasted on her as always. Instead of laughing and telling him what a lovable goof he was, she just inclined her head in the direction of a blonde girl where she was standing next to the driver’s side door of a Mercedes-Benz, dictating final commandments to her peons before departing. Well, probably. Jason was just guessing, based on his own body language reads, and like, general disdain for literally everyone at this school that wasn’t related to him.

He made a face. An extra special one reserved just for this classmate in particular. “Ugh, Madison Dunleavy? She’s the worst.”

Cass raised a cool eyebrow. “I thought Craig Hendricks was the worst.”

“He is. They’re both the worst. Its a hotly contested position here at Gotham Academy.”

She rolled her eyes and nodded back down at the Queen of Air and Darkness. “So. You know her?”

“Nope,” Jason said. “Come to think of it, I’ve actually never seen her in my life. No idea who that is. Can’t help you, sorry. Shall we go home?”

The Eyebrow of Inquisition speared him with clear intent. Who the fuck needed words when you could pack the Encyclopedia Britannica into a single facial expression?

Jason sighed gustily. 

“I had a slight altercation with her freshman year that led to her declaring her undying enmity for me until the end of time. The word nemesis may or may not have been thrown around once or twice. I can’t recall.”

The Eyebrow of Inquisition lowered nary an inch. Ugh, she wanted more? Why did everyone in his family hate privacy, with the obvious exclusion of himself when snooping through Cass and Dick’s rooms for blackmail material, which was actually intel-gathering and thus another matter entirely.

“Okay so basically what happened was my first week here I overheard her talking shit about me and not even twenty minutes later she was pretending to kiss my ass in homeroom, like probably because of Bruce, y’know? So I just busted out laughing and told her to fuck off and die and she has inexplicably loathed me ever since.”

Avoiding further Eyebrow Inquisition-ing, he made a show of peering around aimlessly. When the silence extended and it was clear Cass was absolutely not going to break first, Jason waved a hand in dismissal and took to peering oh so casually at his fingernails. "I suppose I was less tactful back in those days.”

He chanced a look up, finally, and saw his sister’s eyebrow had somehow managed to mighty morphin power ranger its way into a configuration evoking both judgment and disbelief, with the latter perhaps aimed at the idea he was significantly differing in the tact department these days either.

“I don’t love the implications your face is making right now,” he told her.

She ignored him, because of course she did. 

“Does she know Dick?” She asked instead. Jason shrugged.

“I mean, maybe? She’s probably seen him around at one of those stupid galas we have to go to, and actually I think maybe she has an older brother who was either in Dick’s grade or like, one above or below it? I don’t know.”

Now both eyebrows were doing the dance of disbelief. Okay, so maybe that was poor situational awareness on his part, since it wasn’t like Gotham Academy was a big school with a ton of other kids and also he’d only been in the same class as Madison for like over two whole years, but whatever. There were extingent circumstances.

“Look, she’s a total snob who’s always looked down on me and in return I willfully ignore both her existence and that of everyone and everything even tangentially related to her. Its called equality, Cass.”

She pursed her lips and went back to the peering, because of course in the mind of Cass it made total sense that the Grand Inquisition didn’t need to be followed up by any explanation on her part, what the hell. Like was he supposed to have inferred it?

“What’s this all about anyway?”

“I heard her talking about Dick earlier,” she said without peeling her eyes away from her personal recon mission. “I don’t know what she said though, I just heard her say Grayson, and then I was busy looking at what her body was saying. I know it was about Dick because she shut down when she saw me. And I didn’t like the way she....looked....before that happened. The way she was talking. It was.....”

Jason frowned but held back any follow-up questions while he waited - with total patience because he wasn’t an absolute cad, thank you very much - for his sister to find the word she was hunting for. It was a major source of frustration for her, that whatever neural map her brain followed put body language and spoken language in totally different regions of her brain, separated by a fairly great divide. Meaning she usually had to make a conscious choice to focus on body language or conventional languages - whether verbal or sign. But it tended to be one or the other; she’d yet to master taking in and comprehending both forms of ‘language’ at the same time. And none of them had quite figured out how to convince her that she wasn’t actually missing anything when she chose to focus on one specific form of communication - that she was still observing far more than most people ever would.

“Proprietary,” Cass settled on at last. She nodded her satisfaction with her choice of word, and Jason waited a whole two point five seconds before sticking  his whole foot in his mouth.

“Proprietary?” He asked with a scrunched nose as he weighed that for possible context and implications. “You sure?”

She glared. He winced. It was a whole thing.

“Yeah, I know, sorry, sorry, I heard it the second it was out of my mouth. We don’t actually have to experiment with the legitimacy of if looks could kill.”

Cass rolled her eyes, but eh. That could’ve gone worse.

Jason swiftly redirected attention anyway. Discretion is the better part of valor, after all.

“So. The Queen of Air and Darkness was talking about our big bro, and her mood was.....proprietary, huh?” He recapped while digesting the info like a boss. “Well. Definitely not loving that, I gotta say. Hold please.”

Pulling out his phone and pulling up his most recent texts, he began typing furiously.

“What are you doing?” Cass asked.

“Texting Tom,” he replied, because duh. Hah, now it was his chance to have the answers that should be patently obvious and thus make with the ‘are you kidding me’ when she asked obvious questions she should know the answer to! How do you like them apples, sis?

“Why are you texting your boyfriend right now?”

Jason rolled his eyes, because fair is fair, but never ceased texting for a moment. Time was of the essence here, probably. Well, maybe. Okay probably not. But it’d still been like half an hour since he and Tom had last texted and that’s a very fucking long time in teenage years.

“To be our getaway driver tonight, obviously.”

She stared at him. He didn’t look up, but he could feel it anyway. He was very intuitive like that.

“What?”

Jason heaved another sigh, one keyed to tones of ‘oh my god, do I really have to spell this out,” exasperation. He was just racking up the bonus points here. It was really too bad this wasn’t an actual competition he could actually win and this was all just pettiness taking place wholly in his own head. Lame. 

“Well, clearly we now have to go snoop in Madison’s house aka lair to see if its actually a house or a full on lair. Because she’s either a creeper or like, legit evil, and its important to know which one before we proceed, because obviously we can only bust her for being a weird creeper about our brother as Jason and Cass, whereas if she’s legit evil, that’s gotta go down as Robin and Black Bat. I’ll handle the snooping, you’ll take look-out, but we still need a wheelman and that’s why I’m texting Tom. This is all very mission-oriented, okay. I’m a professional.”

“Right,” she affirmed, while sounding anything but convinced. “Why don’t we just tell Bruce?”

Without looking up or breaking stride, he said: “I’m going to give you til I finish typing this sentence to figure out what was wrong with what you just said. Remember that we are talking about hypothetical danger to our brother, and also Bruce’s idea of a proportionate response to any of his children being in even hypothetical danger. And also our brother’s idea of a proportionate response to Bruce’s idea of a proportionate response. Look, you’re still new so I’m gonna need you to just trust me on this one. Its gonna be a no on telling Bruce without further intel.”

Cass said nothing in response to that, which meant that she was conceding the point and recognized the wisdom of his words. Or maybe that she was just gonna go ahead and do what she wanted anyway and just wasn’t bothering to fight about it, but it was probably that first thing.

“Well you better not just make out with your boyfriend all night,” is what she said at last, and that got his attention reeeeeal quick like.

“Umm. Wow. Okay. So, first off, you’re not the boss of me and who I make out with and when, so jot that down. And second, now I’m definitely going to make out with my boyfriend extra hard, with the exception of when we are actually on our recon mission because as previously established, I am a professional. And also, again, you’re not the boss of me.”

Jason ignored her Eye Roll With Extra Emphasis, and instead just held up his phone to Text With Extra Emphasis, as he read along with what he was typing.

“By the way babe, we have to make out extra hard tonight,” he said, tongue sticking out of the corner of his mouth while he dragged out his dictation with the kind of focus that usually led to Bruce asking why he couldn’t apply as much intensity to training as he did to pettiness. “Cass has suddenly decided she can dictate terms to me and I need to shut that shit down ASAP, so thank you in advance for your assistance in this matter. Smoochies and other gay stuff to the best boyfriend ever.”

Jason frowned as a response pinged back seconds later. 

TheCatsMeow: ....the things I put up with for the sake of your weird family dynamics.

TheOnlyRobinThatRocks: Yeah, yeah. You’re a saint among were-panthers. Must you mock? Why can’t you just tell me I’m pretty instead?

TheCatsMeow: Sorry. Let me try again. OMG you’re so pretty Jase how did I get so lucky xoxo.

TheOnlyRobinThatRocks: No. Its too late. It feels forced and unbelievable now. You’ve ruined it forever.

TheCatsMeow: Got it. From now on I will only tell you that you’re repulsive and hideous.

TheOnlyRobinThatRocks: I’m breaking up with you.

TheCatsMeow: But after I help you with your mission tonight.

TheOnlyRobinThatRocks: Obvsly. I’m a professional. Why do people keep forgetting this?

TheCatsMeow: And also the making out to spite your sister.

TheOnlyRobinThatRocks: Yeah we should do that first too. I mean we already penciled it in.

[tommytranselo]

for the ask game uhm uhm all the even numbers >:3

god why are you like this

2. Who are your favorite characters and why? oh, god, so many.  in no particular order: vito–look, he’s gay, he’s sad, he’s afraid of becoming his father, he’s got All That going on with regards to maturity and masculinity and success (he’s trans your honor), i have no choice but to love him.  nicki for similar reasons–the devs really loved gays with daddy issues huh.  paulie since he’s so desperate for people to care about his ideas and feels like he’s never taken seriously (and he’s funny).  henry bc...i don’t know, honestly, he just did something to my brain.  lincoln bc he’s a) in general incredibly well written and b) strikes a good balance between being caring and ruthless when the time comes for it.  tommy bc he was a fun protagonist to play and gave me gender euphoria lmao, and he’s a good friend.  alma bc she’s cool as hell :)

4. Which character is scarily close to how you act? paulie, probably–i am also constantly rambling about ideas that might seem a bit of a stretch.  henry in the sense of going into things with no backup plan and without fully thinking them through.

6. What were your favorite songs from each Mafia game? i don’t know the names of a lot of songs in mafia DE, but “st. james infirmary” by cab calloway and “sing you sinners” by the high hatters for sure–and honestly, the main theme holds a special place in my heart.  from mafia 2, definitely “900 miles” by billy merman (god i’m so mad it’s not on spotify!), “got my mojo working” by muddy waters (one of my favorite songs of all time), and every little richard song on the soundtrack.  mafia 3 is nearly impossible to pick bc i’m a huge fan of 1960s music (and i knew probably at least half the songs already), but it did introduce me to “palisades park” by freddy cannon, which always has me sitting in my car waiting for the rest of it to finish.  “lil red riding hood” by sam sham and the pharoahs, “we gotta get out of the place” by the animals, and (basic though it is) “somebody to love” by jefferson airplane are among my other favorites.

8. Which character shares your sense of fashion? joe barbaro for sure, and thomas burke by extension (i am partial to blue jeans and boots).  tommy angelo but especially the cabbie outfit.

10. If you could give a hug to any character(s), who would they be? henry for sure i know the poor man needs it.  probably vito too.  and nicki <3 my best friend nicki burke from the computer screen

12. Which character(s) do you think you would get along with? paulie for sure, infodumping solidarity.  definitely nicki, almost certainly tommy as well (i feel like he’d be easy to get along with in general).  probably vito too–i vibe strongly with his character and he seems like a chill dude to hang out with.

14. If you could meet any character and just ask them anything you’ve always wanted to know, who would that character be? Along with the question(s) you would ask. hm...honestly–why’d you do it, sam?  was it really worth betraying your friends?  what did you think was gonna happen?

16. What was the funniest glitch you came across while playing/watching someone play Mafia? the progress bar broke the first time i did the burke recruitment mission so i ended up driving way worse than i needed to, and i tried to drive off a ledge thinking that’d get us somewhere...it was the side of a bridge and we fell in the river and died.  also anything that launches the cars cracks me tf up without fail.

18. You only get to slap one character from the whole Mafia trilogy. Who would that character be? (Only one! So choose wisely.) REMY DUVALL no explanation needed

20. Which characters would you like to see swap personalities or even roles? honestly i think this was your idea originally but mafia 2 role swap au with older, grizzled vito and joe as the mentors to young henry and luca.  also this doesn’t really count but that au where henry and luca work for the moretti family.

22. What character gets a lot of hate but you secretly like? Or not so secretly like and why? luca gurino.  he was a solid villain and the way he saw through vito’s naivety was interesting!  i wish they’d done more with him.

24. A scene that you can’t help but laugh at every single time. the cutscene where you escape leo’s house.  henry’s “fuckin’ shit!” and little bounce will never not be funny

26. A head-canon that you haven’t shared yet. i don’t think i’ve said this but vito definitely has tinnitus/hearing damage from the war.  no i am not projecting what are you talking about

28. Some things you dislike about Mafia and why? i haven’t played the original first game and afaik this wasn’t as much of an issue there, but everything else has felt kind of incomplete?  fuckall to do in mde free ride, short story with a lot of plot holes and no free ride at all in m2, grindy side missions and awkward camerawork with certain cutscenes in m3 (though honestly i think 3 had the most to do on the map).  the racism in mafia 2 is an issue as well (and not just in terms of how the characters act, but how the narrative itself treats it as a joke).  and a lot of the fanbase outside of tumblr–oh, lord, do not look at the comments on any mafia 3 trailer...

30. What is one thing you’d like to say to the Mafia fandom before the year comes to a close? idk why the fandom suddenly blew up this past week or so but it’s been extremely fun, y’all are so cool, and i’m so glad we’re all fixated on these old games together <3

[secretsfromwholecloth]

Tagged by @jinxed-milk.

Favourite Colour: There are so many nice colors out there, I don’t feel like playing favorites right now.

Currently reading: Honestly? A bunch of romance webcomics with some fantasy/action ones mixed in. I haven’t had enough brain for anything else in a while, and it keeps me entertained and the fuck off social media (particularly Twitter, which has been a pit lately).

Last song: Σκυλιά (”Dogs”) by Super Stereo (not that one) (or that one) (seriously why’d they have to pick such a common band name). “Hey little brother, tell me what you saw/Is it the time for new homelands?”

Last series: Girlfriend has been binging the original Japanese run of Iron Chef, and I watch along when we eat dinner. Fun show. Good memories. My mom and I used to watch it back when they first started showing dubbed episodes here and it was this weird Japanese thing no one had heard of. Last thing I watched on my own was the 2017 adaptation of You’re My Pet (English title to avoid turning up in searches), which I quite liked, and in particular really sat up and took notice of the male lead’s performance (seriously, great job, Shison, that must’ve been a demanding role). Looking back over my old posts from when I first heard they were making another adaptation and finding a whole string of “ugh, I don’t know why they’re making this, the 2003 one was fine, I hate this preemptively” was...well, not the first time I’ve learned my lesson about judging stories before I’ve experienced them in their entirety.

Last movie: It’s been long enough that I legit don’t remember. It definitely wasn’t this year. Shit, might’ve even been The Green Knight.

Sweet/Spicy/Savoury: All of them? I like food.

Currently working on: Nope. Well, proofreading the next Myrk Mire update, if that counts. The last bugfix borked saves again and I’m going to have to power through the existing material again to get to the stuff I actually need to look at, I may cry.

[ifeellikeameowster]

Raise Hell - Creativitwins and Darkside!Roman Fic

Fic Summary: After a brooding session in his room after the events of SVS2, Roman decides Fuck It! and visits his brother Remus' room. As the two brothers reconnect, Roman ends up making a startling decision.

Warnings: Roman Angst, Self Loathing, Self Deprecating, Darkside!Roman, Gore, Violence, Weapons, Sexual Innuendos (Basically Remus just being Remus)

Pairings: None!

Wordcount: 7k+ (almost 8k)

Author's Note:

I started writing this fic immediately after SVS2 so it's canon complacent until after that, where it branches off into this AU! This was before both Flirting With Social Anxiety and Working Through Intrusive Thoughts came out, so please just consider this an alternate "What If?" scenario! (Also this just goes to show you how much I procrastinate when it comes to writing whoops lol.)

Roman sat curled up on his bed. Sitting in the same position that he had been for the past two days or so. He couldn't exactly recall how long he had been there holed up in his room, actually.

The only thing he could recall was the disappointed looks on their faces, their harsh words whether intentional or not, and the feeling of his whole world seemingly crumbling down around him. It was all too much too soon, and after his outburst he had sunken into a numb state of suspension. Waiting to feel anything other than anger, grief, and disappointment. All three of which were mainly pointed dangerously at his own self like a bunch of daggers repeatedly striking where they knew it would hurt most.

Patton had stopped by shortly after he had first sunk out, yes. But Roman could hardly hear what the fatherly side was saying to him over the ringing in his ears and his own rapid heartbeat constantly reminding him it had been recently struck through. Something about everything being okay, he thinks? Yet how could Patton have said that when absolutely nothing was okay right now? In fact, he doubted anything could be okay ever again. Not after…well, after he had apparently messed up again.

It was starting to become a habit now, all of these stupid mistakes. And how could such a perfect prince as him make such mistakes? He was supposed to be a paragon of perfection! An idol for all aspiring heroes alike! The pinnacle of heroism and all that is good in the world! Instead he was just...just wrong. Always wrong. Always wrong no matter who's side he took or who he believed in or what he said or didn't say. Wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong.

But if he wasn't a perfect prince...if he wasn't a hero...if he wasn't right...then what exactly was he? What was left? Well, nothing, really. He had put all of his eggs in one basket and now the littlest breeze had apparently sent it toppling over.

Wait a minute...If he had nothing left, then that meant he had nothing left to lose, right? Which meant all of his old restrictions on himself, all of his walking the fine line and all of him staying on the right side of the fence- All of it was meaningless. It was doing nothing, just like him.

He slowly unfurled his body from it's curled up position and turned his gaze towards the closet on the far side of his room. The door was dingier compared to the rest of the elegant and ornately designed bedroom. Scratch marks marred its greyed, wooden surface and a sign was tapped loosely and half-hazardly to the middle. "Danger: Nightmare Zone. Keep out!" It read in bright red lettering.

"Keep out, huh...I must have been really mad when I wrote that." Roman glanced down to his hands, which he had clenched. "But now I'm just empty...so what's the use in obeying a stupid sign that I put up there myself?" He unfisted his hands and looked back to the imposing closet door. "What could be more dangerous in there than staying here and stewing in my own thoughts?"

He slowly stood up, his legs tingling from being in one position for far too long. He made his way over to the closet door. Slowly. Cautiously. Glancing over his shoulder as if someone was going to walk in on him at any moment. As his hand grasped the handle, he felt himself gulp. Did he really want to do this?

"…"

Well, what else was there to do?

He pushed the door open and stepped into the closet full of old clothes. All of his new princely adornments were actually being stored in a mahogany wardrobe beside his nightstand. These clothes were...they belonged to...Well, someone who didn't exist. At least not anymore. He pushed his way through dusty and moth-bitten clothes as if he was pushing through the undergrowth of a dense jungle. As he neared his destination, the place grew darker and smelled more and more of mold.

He finally arrived at another door. This one was more well kept than the last, with golden trimmings and an intricate door handle. He took a deep breath to steal his nerves before pushing it open.

He stepped out into another bedroom. This one had moss in the corners, cobwebs on the ceiling, and ivy climbing it's walls. Even still, it was much tidier than he had been expecting. It gave off more of a wild feeling rather than a dirty one. Just as he was about to take another step to inspect further, there was a mace in his face.

He hadn't even flinched back, he was so tired and dazed. Roman sucked in a nervous breath and looked to the wielder of the weapon.

Remus was standing frozen in place, his face flickering between emotions. Eyes twitching. It appeared like he had intended to knock him out again...just like last time in the living room...but something must have made him pause.

"You've been crying." He hissed, less of a question and more of an accusation.

Roman blinked, confused, before reaching up to poke the skin underneath his eyes. Sure enough, it was puffy. He bet if he looked in a mirror they'd be red-rimmed as well. But he didn't even want to see his own face right now. He huffed out in irritation. "So what if I have?"

Remus' face flickered once more before settling into a firm stare as he slowly lowered his morning star mace away from Roman's head. He was being oddly still and slow in his motions, and the difference between this and his usual rambunctiousness was making Roman's skin crawl with nerves. "Why?"

"Why?" Roman repeated after him, bristling, "Why do you even care why?"

Remus blinked, seeming to come out of his previous mood. "You tell me Prince Smarmy! You came into my turf." He rested his mace behind his shoulders and started rocking back and forth on the heels of his boots.

"I…" Roman's gaze fell to the ground. "I don't know. It's just the last place I could go, I guess?" He shrugged before waving a dramatic arm, "But if you don't want me here either, then just say it to my face!"

Remus tilted his head curiously before leaning forward "Oh, I can do way better than that, brohide." And with that, he snapped his fingers and the room flipped upside down.

Roman gasped as they fell through the air. The room seemed to twist and morph around them. Until finally, he had landed roughly on his own fluffy white floor rug. Remus, however, had fallen through the fancy canopy of his bed. Tearing a large hole through it and landing in a heap on the covers.

"Hey, my bed!" He shouted, offended beyond belief.

"Oh tough titty." Remus chastised as he picked up a golden laced, red silk pillow. He started plucking at it's loose threads. "I bet you have a ton of those ugly tent things."

"They're called canopies, you uncultured swine!"

Roman got up in a huff and dusted off and straightened his rumpled clothes. He sent a glare over to Remus as he did so. "Why'd you do that?"

"Do what?~" He sing-songed annoyingly back.

"Teleport us in such an unruly manner!"

"Hmmm…" He flopped over on to his back and started doing snow angel motions. "Why'd you go in my room?~Huh? Huh?"

"Wha- I- I asked you first!"

"I asked you second!!" He rolled over on the bed to grin up at Roman, still clutching the poor, abused pillow.

"Ugh, fine!" Roman threw his hands up in the air and moved to grab his vanity chair. He pulled it over to sit in front of the bed. "I just didn't want to be in my own room right now, okay??"

Remus frowned with pursed lips and sat up, scooching forward on the bed. "But it's your room, numbnuts."

"Well maybe I don't want to be near me right now…Um, wait. That doesn't make any sense, does it?"

"Probably not! But-" He cupped a hand over his mouth and loudly whispered conspiratorially, "I can rip your head off your body and throw it to the side for you so you're not close to it anymore?"

"No that's...That's not what I meant and you know it!"

"Fucking party pooper!" Remus threw his hands up then abandoned the pillow he had been holding to riffle curiously through the rest. "Do you not keep a dagger under your pillow??"

"What? No, of course not! Who would do that?"

"Me, duh! For security reasons, bitch boy."

"Well I'm obviously more sensible than that. I keep swords under the bed like a sane person."

"Wait, really?!" Remus threw himself over the side of the bed to look underneath it. "Holy shit, nice!" He rustled through them for a moment before grabbing a sleek black flamberge by it's blade and pulling it up. "I'm keeping this!"

"I would protest that but you've already gotten your filthy blood all over it and that sword is a particular bitch to clean."

"Sibling souvenir!" Proclaimed Remus as he stabbed it into his stomach for safe keeping.

"What on earth are you doing? Why would you stab yourself??"

"To make sure it doesn't go anywhere! Oh, and to test it's stabby powers."

"You know in hindsight, I shouldn't have even asked."

"Speaking of askings of questions-ing, why did you visit my room of all places? Needed to get rid of some trash? Because I'm taking if you're offering. I could always use more decorations!"

"Remus, you rat bastard, I saw that your room was cleaner than you let people believe it to be. If you did take any of my trash you'd probably organize it into the proper bins and everything."

Remus gasped and put an offended hand over his chest. "How dare you! My room is perfectly and gloriously trashy and stinky, just like me."

"Mhmm, sure it is."

A shuriken flew past the side of his head and embedded itself right in the face of one of his many Disney posters.

"Just answer my question!!"

"Okay, okay jeez!" Roman raised his hands placatingly before dropping them to grip at his knees nervously. "I, well, I didn't want to be alone anymore…"

"And? You couldn't just visit the other lamo light bitches in the living-dead room?"

"They, um." He sighed before looking over at his posters. Prince Charming smiled brightly back at him, even with a weapon digging into his forehead. "They don't want to be around me. They don't want me. Not anymore. If they ever did. They have him, after all. Both of them."

"Him. Them. Stop playing the pronoun game already and get fucking on with it!"

"He has Janus now! Thomas chose Janus! Patton chose Janus! They chose Janus! They both chose Janus...over me…" Roman blurted out. The words were spilling out now, unstoppable. He sniffled as he felt the tears threatening to fall once more as well. He didn't even realize he had any left to cry. "I chose Thomas. Thomas chose Patton. Patton chose Janus. No one ever chooses me! No one ever takes my side!"

"Apparently, I'm always the one in the wrong..." He ran his shaky hands over his cheeks, desperately trying to push any tears that appeared away. To keep them from falling anymore. Hadn't he cried enough? "I was wrong about Virgil. I was wrong with how I talked to Logan. I was wrong about the breakup. I was wrong about the wedding. Now I was wrong about Deceit- no, Janus- ugh...Everything I do is wrong!"

He lowered his hands again to dig his fingers back into his knees. Roman drew in another shaky breath, trying to calm himself after the outburst. He glanced nervously up at Remus to gauge his reaction to his brother's crazed rambles.

Remus had leaned forward to hear him better over his sobs and shaky voice, almost tipping over the edge of the bed. He had his nails digging into Roman's comforter, and Roman was afraid he was about to rip holes into it. He already had a canopy to replace after all, he didn't want to have to replace that as well! They stared at each other in tense silence for a few moments more, one at a loss on what to say next and the other trying to process the onslaught of new information. Finally, Remus let go of the comforter, slid off the bed, and sat on the floor in front of him with his legs splayed out.

"So what you're saying is...wait, Jan Jan the Banana Man actually told you his name?"

"Well, he more so told Thomas and Patton it and...I just happened to be there too?"

"Huh. Never thought he'd tell anyone else. Well, not after Virgil…was Virgil there?"

"No. Unfortunately Virgil wasn't there to back me up. If he would have even taken my side at all...And Logan was...there in textbox spirit?"

"What'd nerd-a-lerd say?"

"He…well, I wasn't really paying much attention to- I was panicking okay! But I heard enough." He looked to the side, feeling shame well up in himself again. "Enough to know that he was taking his side, just like everyone else."

He heard a mumbled "Damn pronoun name again-" before Remus clapped his hands together with a loud boom that echoed through the large room. "Okay! And I can't believe I'm saying this but- tell me the whole story. Top dick to bottom butt."

"Ew." Roman wrinkled his nose up in disgust.

"Just tell me already!!" Annnddd another shuriken whizzed past his head. This time it embedded itself in his dresser. He hoped it hadn't cracked the wood too much...

Thus Roman spun the entire tale, starting at Janus' first appearance and ending with the absolute fiasco between the callback and the wedding that had occurred a couple of days ago...or had it been several? Time had muddied itself in his reclusion. He would take several breaks in his storytelling to go off on self-deprecating tangents that sounded an awful lot like dramatic monologues from some tragic play. More often than not these tangents were cut short by Remus, who would hurry them along with crude nicknames and threats to get back to the main story.

Somehow during this storytelling process both of the brothers had ended up splayed out side by side on top of Roman's fluffy white floor rug. As if they were kids gossiping on the floor at a sleepover. Remus had busied his hands by pulling out locks of the fur from the rug while Roman's own hands gesticulated wildly with the ups and downs of his tale. As he neared the end of the story, Roman curled up to lay on his side so he could face Remus and see his reaction.

"...and then I decided to go to your room. Because I had nowhere else to go. I didn't want to stay in my room with my own thoughts any longer...but I didn't want to see any of the other sides, either."

Remus was laying on his stomach, fiddling with the rug and swaying his feet in the air. At hearing the last bit, his feet fell back down to rest on the floor. "...But you wanted to see me?" His voice was the softest Roman had ever heard him speak. It was incredulous and almost...hopeful.

"I-I don't know. I-" Roman diverted his eyes across the room, sweeping over the damage done by them earlier and eventually landing on the dingy and scratched up closet door. He stared at it for a moment in thought before looking back over to Remus. "Do you ever…Ever miss sharing a bedroom?" He murmured.

Remus wrinkled his nose and glared at him, likely upset that he had dodged the question. "Not really. Your taste in stuff is far too Gucci-Gucci-bougie for me."

"No, not that!" Roman dismissed with a wave of his hand, " Not the furniture or anything like that. Just the…the feel of someone else being there too? Knowing that someone else is always there? Someone who's kind of like you but not really? Someone you can talk to when you have no one else?" Roman ran his fingers through his hair in distress. "Does that make any sense???"

Remus was still glaring at him, but now his eyebrows twitched with an unseen emotion. "Being brothers?" He hissed.

"What?"

Remus reached over to grab Roman's shoulders and shake him silly. "What you're describing. Is being brothers. What I wanted to be. What you didn't let us be. What you rejected. Shoved into the darkest corner. Placed under a Do Not Enter sign-"

"I'm sorry, okay! I didn't mean it!"

Remus paused in his shaking, several emotions flashing across his face. "Didn't mean it?"

"I know I-" Roman placed his hands over Remus' on his shoulders but didn't push him away and lowered his head in shame. "I acted rashly and perhaps a tad extreme to our new circumstances at the time. But it was for what I thought was the best. I only ever wanted to serve Thomas. I only ever wanted to please them. I never thought- I-" He looked sincerely back up into his brother's eyes. "I never thought about what that would mean for you. What that would do to you. What that would do to us. And for that, I'm sorry."

Remus loosened his grip but didn't let go entirely, staring intensely and attentively at Roman.

"I never actually wanted to push you away. I was just doing so because I thought- Well, okay admittedly I wasn't thinking much at all really but-" His eyes briefly flickered back to the closet door "I didn't want to become a dark side too! I didn't want to not be able to see Thomas. Or to be rejected by the others. I-" He laughed then. A dry, helpless laugh. He shifted to put his head in his hands. "But I guess that happened anyway, didn't it? What sick irony, huh? Maybe it's what I deserve… Maybe it's karmic retribution…"

"..."

"I shoved you away... And now they're shoving me away! I lost a brother so I could keep everyone and everything else in my life but now- now I've lost that, too- Now I have nothing. Now I am no-"

Remus tightened his grip on Roman's shoulders again and pulled him towards himself. He ended up knocking their heads together in the process-

"Ow! What the hell are you-"

-of wrapping his arms around Roman and hugging him to himself.

"You-You're hugging me?"

"You didn't lose a brother…" Remus pouted, as if he was a petulant toddler, "I've always been right fucking here if you'd open your stupid eyes for once."

Roman let out a shuddering breath, feeling an entirely new type of tear prickling at the corners of his eyes. He buried his head in Remus' shoulder and gripped onto the back of hid brother's clothes as if he was his last lifeline. He probably was.

Sure the hug was the most uncomfortable one he'd ever had, what with the hilt of the sword in Remus' stomach poking him in his own and his forehead still ringing with the pain from where Remus banged them together, but somehow it was still nice. It still felt like...home.

"...But I thought you hated me?"

"What gave you that idea?"

"You're always calling me names and hitting me with stuff!"

He felt Remus shrug. "You do the same thing."

"You do it first!"

"Eh- that's just what siblings do~~"

"With medieval weapons?!"

"Says the guy with a stash of swords under his bed!~" Remus sing-songed teasingly.

"Oh like you have room to talk- You said you keep daggers under your pillow!"

"Shouldn't everyone? You should keep some under yours too, Mr Whiny Prissy Pants!"

"And there's the name calling again."

"Hey now, you know it's the older siblings job to pick on the younger-"

"But I'm the older sibling! I manifested my form first!"

"Eh, semantics-schmantics! Same diff!"

"You're completely unreasonable!"

"And you're too stuck up!"

Roman let out a growl and smacked a hand over Remus' face, pushing him away and breaking up the hug. Remus let out a huff and reached over to slap the back of Roman's head in retaliation. This caused them to descend into a full on slap fight, looking like a slapstick scene straight out of a comedy movie.

They roughhoused like this, like a pair of bickering elementary schoolers, until they eventually tired themselves out and flipped gracelessly back onto the floor. They both stared at the ceiling for a few silent seconds before bursting out into fits of crazed laughter.

"That was the worst hug ever! Hahaha!"

"Hey! I don't have much practice! Heeheehee!"

"Haha! We must look like a couple of insane people lying here!"

"Haha! I knooowww~~ You're room is sooo trashed!~Heehee!"

"Hey! You're the one that trashed it! Hahaha!"

"Well you're the one who invited me here brozilla! Hahahoo!"

"You're the one that brought us here! Hahaheh! I wanted to be in your room! Heh!"

Their laughter eventually died down. But just as Roman was about to drift off into sleep from his position lying on the floor, he heard Remus ask, "Do you still want to go to my room?"

Roman blinked his eyes open. He sat up and looked forlornly around his own bedroom. The thought of staying here seemed lonely, now that he'd finally reunited and reconciled with his brother. And the pictures and posters adorning the walls just reminded him of past memories that only hurt to think about right now. "......Yeah. Yes, actually." He turned to Remus, who had also sat back up, " I know, I know it sounds crazy but-"

"I like crazy!" Remus grinned and raised his fingers in preparation to snap, causing Roman to have a flashback to the previous time he did it.

"Wait! Don't turn the room upside down again! We can just sink through the floor like we normally-"

"Sink through the floor? Okay, if you say so!" His grin widened maniacally and he snapped his fingers.

The floor started to shift and cave in on itself, causing Roman's furniture to all move closer to the center. A hole slowly opened under where the brothers had been sitting that pulled them down into it. Roman screamed as they were both sucked into the abyss.

His scream ended abruptly as he was flung up into Remus' room, the hole now acting as a geyser of sorts. Roman landed in an unruly manner and was knocked out of breath while Remus landed swiftly on his knee before rolling up into a standing position.

"Home, Smelly Home!" He proudly declared with his hands on his hips, either unaware of or uncaring towards his brother's struggle to get up from the floor.

"Shouldn't have opened my big mouth..." Mumbled Roman as he dusted his clothes off and tried to straighten his appearance, only for his work to be completely undone when Remus yanked him into his side and rustled his hair with his elbow. "Hey! Stop that! Do you have any idea how long it takes to do my hair?"

"Eh, it was already messed up anyways." Remus slapped Roman's shoulder, "Now come on slowpoke, I'm gonna give you the grand tour!" Remus then ran off further into his room, causing Roman to have to chase after him in order to keep up.

Remus showed him his bedroom first, which had a mirrored layout to Roman's, but the furniture was darker and more rustic. The decorations looked more like something out of a haunted mansion than a grand palace, like Roman's did. Remus then stopped by his weapons closet, where he finally removed the flamberge sword from his stomach and tossed it haphazardly inside. From what Roman could make out before Remus had shut the door again was that the room looked bigger on the inside than the title 'closet' would suggest. Remus then pointed out a few more small areas of note before eventually leading Roman to the back door.

Every side's room had a front door- where the other sides could enter their room, and a backdoor- where each side could go out of their room and into their own personal section of the mindscape. Most sides referred to it as their 'backyard', of sorts.

Roman followed Remus out of his backdoor and onto a balcony overlooking a dark, twisted forest. The balcony itself was the same design as Roman's own balcony but was made up of black marble instead of white. There were a few cracks here and there, yet it was overall fairly stable. English Ivy crept along the rails and crawled down the side of the castle. There were no stairs in sight, unlike with his own balcony, leading Roman to wonder whether Remus would take the time to climb down the Ivy or simply jump off of the railing in order to enter his backyard.

Remus spread his arms out in a grand gesture before spinning around to sit backwards on the railing, facing Roman. "So, what do ya' think? Badass digs, right?"

Roman, lost in thought and not expecting the question, blurted out the first thing to cross his mind. "We have similar balconies."

Remus raised an amused brow. "No shit, Sher-cock. We're in the same castle. Same castle, same floor plan. Duh."

"Wait, the same castle…?"

Remus shrugged, leaning far enough back on the railing to have Roman worry about him falling over the side of it, "It split when we did. We still share a room and space... it's just-" He waved around a hand dismissively. "Halved, now."

"Ah...so that's the reason we can visit each other without going through our front doors…" Roman walked up to lean forwards on the railing, right beside Remus. "Wonder why I didn't question that sooner?" He rested his chin in his hand with a sigh. "All this time, we were even in the same castle...the same area of the mindscape...and I never- I never even bothered to visit-"

Remus, who had grown bored of the conversation and had started to pick his nose, interrupted Roman's spiral by flicking boogers at him. "Hey now, none of that. You did enough moping back in your own room, you cry baby.*

"Ugh! Ew!" Roman sputtered indignantly and pulled out a doily to wipe his face. "You're disgusting." He huffed.

Remus stuck his tongue out at him and laughed. "If you start saying sad shit again, I'll give you a wet willy." He then leaned towards Roman and started wiggling his fingers menacingly.

"You wouldn't dare!"

"Try me, bitch!"

"Well, if you do that, then I'll- Then I'll shove you off of the balcony!"

Remus faked a scandalized gasp and placed a hand over his chest while the other draped across his forehead. "You'd murder your own dearest brother?!"

"It wouldn't kill you, you overdramatic oaf, sides can't die!"

"You're calling me overdramatic?" Remus abandoned the pose to lean forward with a knowing grin. "Talk about the pot calling the kettle black."

"Oh shut up." Roman pushed Remus away, before turning around to sit beside him atop the railing.

Remus' eyes widened. "My goody two shoes brother is sitting precariously on a railing? Since when? Is it opposite day? "

"What do you mean? I do dangerous stuff all the time!"

"Oh yeah? Like what?"

Roman gestured wildly, "I slay the dragons! I defeat the monsters! I save the people! I...fight the bad guys…" Roman deflated as his hands fell beside him to lock the rail in a death grip. "But I guess I failed at all of that, huh? So much for being a goody two shoes…"

Remus hummed in thought, nails tapping against the black marble. His legs swayed back and forth as they both looked up at the night sky above them in companionable silence. Roman eventually let out a forlorn sigh and relaxed his grip on the railing. Suddenly, Remus let out a loud gasp and clapped his hands together, startling Roman who in turn almost tipped over the edge of the balcony.

"I have the best idea!"

"Oh no, you're planning something. That can never be good."

" No, no! Really, really! Listen, listen!" Remus smacked Roman's arm and shoulder excitedly in-between each word.

"Okay, okay! Just stop!" Roman slapped Remus' hands away. "Tell me then brother, what is it?"

Remus beamed and jumped to stand back on the balcony. "Okay so, you're saying that the other sides are shutting you out, right? And that they made you feel like a stinky doodoo head?"

"Gee, thanks for reminding me. Totally helps me feel better." Roman grimaced with a sarcastic thumbs up as Remus paced back and forth.

"Right! So, they're starting to treat you like a villain. And J-Anus as a good guy?"

"I- I guess? That's like the bare essentials of what happened...I mean, that's what it seems like--Ugh, just what are you getting at?!"

Remus stopped pacing to spin towards Roman and spread his hands out. "So why not just be a villain?"

"......what?"

"Join the dark sides with me!" Remus then awkwardly faked a modeling pose. "We have great fashion! And weapons! Lots of weapons!"

Roman scoffed. "I know, I saw your weapons closet." He slid off the railing to stand in front of his brother. "But what makes you think I'd want to be a villain?"

"Well, they made you feel fucking awful, right?" Remus leaned forward with a menacing grin, "So why not give them a little hell in return?"

"What, as in revenge?! I'm supposed to be a purveyor of justice!"

Remus shrugged and started circling Roman. "Where's the justice in always shutting you out? Of always telling you that everything you do is wrong? Of splitting us apart?" He stopped to put his hands on Roman's shoulders again. "Aren't you tired of trying to be a good guy all the time? Don't you just want to let loose and raise a little hell?"

Roman bit his lip and wrung his hands together. He looked down at his feet as his brother's words rang through his head. Where was the justice in that? He had always tried to do the right thing before. To be the good guy. To be the hero. But no one ever appreciated his efforts. Instead they always, always focused only on his mistakes.

The other sides' voices chimed off in his head.

"Roman, you can't do that." "Shut up Roman." "That was wrong, Roman." "Stop being so dramatic, Roman."

He pushed those invading voices furiously away and tried to reorganize his thoughts.

Him, joining the dark sides? Could it even be done? A light side had never switched over to the dark side before... Well, unless you counted the original Creativity and their split. Where a part of that Creativity had...had been pushed to the dark sides and…

Roman's eyes widened in realization as he looked back up at his brother. "You too." He breathed out.

Remus squinted his eyes and scrunched his nose at him. "Hah?"

"Always being shut out. Always being told everything you do is wrong. Being forced to split apart." Roman grabbed the hands that were on his shoulders to move them down and squeeze them reassuringly. "You experienced all of that too. Even more than I did…Don't you want to raise hell too?"

Roman grinned in a very in unprincely manner and released Remus' hands. He swept his arms aside in a grand motion. "Let's raise hell together, brother. What do you say?"

Remus stared at him blankly for a moment before breaking out into a shit eating grin of his own. "Hell yeah! Hell mother fucking yeah!" He jumped up and down excitedly and clapped his hands. "Oh! We're gonna have so much fun! Those butt holes have no idea what's coming."

Roman chuckled fondly at his brother's enthusiasm. He felt lighter than he had in years. Free of responsibility. Free of expectations. Free of limitations. Free to do whatever he wanted. Speaking of which…

"You mentioned fashion earlier, didn't you?" Roman pulled at the hem of his shirt in thought before smirking up at Remus. "I believe for me to officially join the dark sides, a makeover may be in order."

Remus nodded and grabbed his brother's hand to drag him back inside, chanting, "Makeover time! Makeover time!" The entire way while pumping his fist victoriously into the air.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next morning, in Thomas' living room.

"-and a part of taking care of yourself is to not self-deprecate." Janus was explaining, standing next to Logan.

"Yeah, you've gotta compliment yourself sometimes, Thomas!" Patton added happily.

Thomas scratched the back of his head nervously. "I don't know guys... isn't that a little…"

"Conceited?" Virgil cut in, glaring over at Janus' before looking back to Thomas. "What if we end up doing that out loud in front of others? What if people think we're stuck up?"

"Well, it's better than always thinking so negatively of himself." Janus spat out.

"Janus has a point, Virgil. It's been proven that constant self-deprecating behavior can have a wide range of negative effects on one's psyche and mental health." Logan chinned in while adjusting his glasses. "Which could also lead to eventual negative effects on one's physical health, including-"

"Well, I mean yeah!-" Virgil rushed to interrupt, "He shouldn't think too badly of himself...but he shouldn't think too highly of himself, either!" He uncrossed his arms and gestured towards the empty space where Roman usually stood. "I mean, what if Thomas ends up as stuck up as Princy here, huh? What would you do then-"

"Wait-" Thomas interrupted him, "Where is Roman? Has anyone seen him lately?"

The sides fell silent as they all looked curiously towards the empty spot.

"I haven't seen him since Janus joined us... Patton, didn't you check up on him or something?"

"Well, yeah! Of course I did kiddo!" Patton nodded then pouted, "He didn't seem to want to talk to me though…"

"Has anyone actually talked to Roman in a while? Where is he?"

The sides gave Thomas varying degrees of shrugs and noncommittal answers in response.

Thomas sighed, "Really, guys?" He then looked towards the corner again and called out, "Roman! Are you there? Are you listening? If so, come on up! You should join us!"

They waited in awkward silence for a while for Roman to appear, or to at least respond to Thomas' call...until they heard a deep chuckle emanating from behind the tv.

"Join you? Nope! Not possible~"

Hands crept out from behind the tv, grabbing onto the wall, causing everyone in the room to immediately be alert. They remembered the last time they saw hands there...this couldn't be good! Something was wrong! Sure enough, Remus slowly emerged, climbing up the wall as if he was a lizard. He then twisted his head around, causing Patton to almost faint from fear. Thomas, meanwhile, backed away as far as he could without falling over the couch.

"I'm afraid he's already joined someone else!~"

Remus jumped off of the wall to land in Roman's designated spot. His head and body shifted back to their original positions and he grinned at the others with his arms spread out. Now, the others could see that along with his usual attire, he also donned a crooked and cracked silver crown atop his head. His purplish eyeshadow was gone, instead replaced with a messily applied sparkly silver eyeshadow. Some of the glitter from it fell down the sides of his face to freckle his cheeks as well. The wide grin of his lips was painted in a deep green lipstick.

"Me!"

"Remus…?" Janus breathed out, confused.

"I didn't call for you! I called for Roman!" Thomas shouted once he had regained his composure from witnessing such a horrifying sight.

Virgil bristled and stood up from where he had been leaning against the stairs. "Where is he? What did you do with him?" He bared his teeth at Remus as if he was an agitated guard dog.

Remus put his hands on his hips and threw his head back with a laugh. "What did I do to him?" He leaned forward with a smirk. "What did you do to him? Huh?"

"Wha-what do you mean? W-we didn't do anything..." Stammered out Patton.

"Also, did he change his makeup?" Muttered Thomas, "It actually looks kinda good…"

"Focus on the main issue here, dudes!" Virgil snapped his fingers at them both before turning back to Remus. "Okay, whatever. It doesn't matter wherever you put him, just give him back!"

Remus chuckled and stepped to the side, "You hear that, dear brother? Sounds like they're ready for you to come out!~"

At that, the tv seemed to flicker to life. A colorful error screen appeared and started to crackle and fizz. As the glow from the tv lit up the room, the rest of the room started to glitch along with it.

The sides glanced around nervously, fear creeping into their bones once more.

"What's going on? What's happening to the room?!" Thomas panicked.

Logan placed a hand on his chin. "These types of spatial effects seeming to happen in Thomas' physical living room instead of just inside the mindscape...could it be?"

"No…" Gasped Janus, "No, it can't be!"

"Oh but it can!~" Announced another voice from inside the tv.

Hands reached out from inside the error screen to grasp the sides of the tv. A form slowly climbed out of the tv and stepped into the living room.

"......Roman? What on earth are you wearing?!" Virgil waved a hand incredulously at his new get up.

Roman, now fully standing beside Remus in his usual spot, smirked at Virgil and flicked his cape. "It's called fashion, Midnight Query."

Roman's usual outfit was now black in all of the areas it used to be white. On top of that, he wore a red velvet cape with a white and black spotted fur trim. On his shoulder laid a skull where the cape connected and clasped shut. His upper eyelid was decorated in sparkly gold eyeshadow and thick black eyeliner which spread out into a cat-eye look. His smirk donned blood red lipstick and a crown identical to Remus' was atop his head, except his crown was golden and not crooked or cracked at all. He looked like he had stepped right out of a fairytale…but as an evil king instead of a noble prince.

"Perhaps you should try it sometime, Dark and Dreary. It might make you look less…" Roman made a point of looking Virgil up and down before waving his hand at him with a scowl, "Drab."

"Roman! Where have you been? I missed you. Your makeup looks great!" Patton rambled ecstatically.

"Missed me?" He sneered, "Ha! I bet you all didn't even realize that I was gone." Roman then looked down to check his meticulously manicured nails with a bored expression.

"Of course we did! That's why I called you!" Insisted Thomas.

Roman tsked and shook his head. "Oh Thomas, Thomas. Always the peacemaker." He moved the hand he had been checking to flip his cape over his shoulder. "But I'm not here to make peace. We're here to raise hell. Isn't that right, brother?"

In response, Remus summoned a pitch black flamberge sword and stabbed the blade into the ground. "Hell yeah we are!"

The area of the floor that he smashed cracked open to reveal an eerie green and yellow glow. Small shadow hands emerged as little demons started crawling through the cracks.

Roman summoned a longsword with a ruby embedded in its hilt and slashed at the wall. Red and orange flames burst forth from the rip as even more shadow demons started to join them.

The glitching of the room from the tv screen grew at an alarming rate, some of the glitches covering entire pieces of furniture.

"What on earth is happening!?" Thomas screamed, gesturing wildly at, well, everything.

"Roman, you need to stop this now!" Virgil growled, slipping into his Tempest Tongue.

"Yeah kiddo," chuckled Patton nervously as he tried to wrestle his hoodie away from a demon that was currently trying to steal it. "Isn't this a tad bit extreme?"

Roman laughed darkly, raising his sword into a shrug. "And why should I?"

Remus rested his elbow on Roman's shoulder, "We haven't even begun to have our fun yet!"

Janus narrowed his eyes at Remus, "Remus, this is not what I meant when I said-"

"Blah blah blah!" Remus mimed a mouth with his hand. "That's all you are, anacon-don't. All talk, no action!"

"What's going on?! Why isn't anyone answering me?!"

"Well, Thomas, it appears that Roman and Remus have initiated-" Logan started only to get interrupted by Virgil.

"They started Daymare Mode!" Virgil shouted as he angrily threw a demon that had been crawling on him into the wall, knocking it out instantly.

"Daymare Mode? What's Daymare Mode?!"

"It's a combination of Daydream Mode and Nightmare Mode." Janus explained while shaking a demon off of his hat with a sneer, "It's a state Creativity can only achieve when it's whole…"

"So, what? They can affect the real world now that they're working together?!"

"Don't be ridiculous, Thomas." Chastised Logan, "You're technically just hallucinating-"

"I'm hallucinating?!"

"Yes, that is what I just said."

A demon tugged at Logan's pant leg only to be sent running away in fear by a well-placed harsh glare.

Patton, finally having gotten his hoodie free, tied it back around his shoulders and clapped his hands. "Okay, you two! That's enough. I'm not sure what's gotten into you today, but-"

"Oh no, no, no." Roman waved a finger at him, "I'm afraid we're not going to be listening to you anymore, padre."

"We've got our own plans, Daddy DingDong!"

"Oh yeah?" Hissed Janus, "And what exactly are those?"

"You can't do them, whatever they are!" Virgil yelled out as he stomped on another demon's tail, sending it hopping away in pain. "We won't let you. I won't let you!"

Remus and Roman exchanged amused glances before turning back to the others.

"You don't have to let us do anything," Roman hummed, "We're the kings. We shall do whatever we want." He waved a dismissive hand.

"Hear ye, Hear ye! The Twin Kings of Creativity!" Hollered Remus, as both twins raised their swords triumphantly in the air, "We take no shit and kick some ass!"

"To us!" Roman high fived Remus' hand, then turned to grin menacingly at the others, "And now, time for you to go to hell."

"To hell?!" Thomas gasped, looking desperately back and forth at the other sides.

Logan's eyes widened, having figured out what they were planning to do. "Roman, if I'm correct- and I always am- then I'd advise against-"

"Too late, Deuce Banner!" Remus shouted triumphantly as he and Roman clashed their weapons together. The sound from the clang resonated in all of their heads, making their vision blurry.

Thomas gripped the sides of his head, trying to get the ringing to stop hurting his ears. His head felt like it was splitting open. And then, there was nothing. Just a fade to black.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thomas gasped for air as he woke up. Wait, woke up? Had it all been a dream? Thank god-!

"Well, well, well. It's about damn time." Drawled Roman.

"We thought you were never gonna come to!" Laughed Remus.

Thomas jumped up in surprise from where he'd been laying on the floor, only to immediately regret moving so harshly as he felt his head swim. "Ow ow ow." He gripped his forehead and peered around, "What-"

"Welcome, welcome!" Roman proclaimed as he spread his arms out in a grand gesture. "To the Kingdom of Creativity."

Thomas looked up to see Roman and Remus sitting side by side on twin thrones, one gold with red cushions and one silver with green cushions. Roman sat up straight with impeccable posture and one leg crossed over the other. Remus lay sideways across his throne, kicking his feet and tossing what appeared to be a grenade up and down as if it was a baseball.

"...What? Where am I?"

"We just told you." Scoffed Roman, "You're in the Kingdom of Creativity." At Thomas' confused frown, he continued, "You're in our room, Thomas."

"Your room?" Thomas looked around at the ornate throne room. "It doesn't look like my living room, like the others' did."

"That's cause we're not as boring as the other sides." Sighed Roman, "We have much more pizazz." He gestured at the room around them. "We did some redecorating recently, actually. What do you think, hmm?"

The throne room was mainly black, with silver and gold furniture giving the darkness a stark contrast. Banners of their two symbols hung on opposite sides of the room in correspondence with each side's throne. Overall it gave off a majestic yet eerie feel.

"It's- Um." Thomas finally stood up from his position on the floor and glanced around nervously. "It's certainly something. But um, where are the others…?"

He had long since noticed that it was just him and the twins in this room. The others had seemingly vanished into thin air. Their continued disappearance was making him more and more uneasy as each second ticked by.

Remus huffed and casually threw the grenade over his shoulder and out a window, causing an explosion to be heard outside. "What's wrong Thomathy, our room not up to snuff with the others? You prefer Daddyo's and Scene-Kid's rooms? Huh?"

"What? No!" Thomas raised his hands placatingly, not wanting to anger the two currently volatile sides, "You're room is fine! It's great! It's just they were here and now they're not here and I was just wondering-"

"They're off on their own adventure right now, Thomas." Roman butted in. He leaned forward to place his elbows on his knees and his chin in his hands. "That doesn't matter, though. What matters right now is us. Don't you want to stay here with us, Thomas? We can show you around the castle~!"

"Um- No, that's fine... No thank you." Thomas smiled as his voice shook. "I'm sorry, I can't stay here... I need to find the others."

Roman's pleased smile immediately fell into a scowl, "Fine, then. You want to see the others so badly?" He stood up from his throne and gestured for his brother to do the same. "Then why don't you just join them already!"

The both summoned their new weapons again, causing Thomas to start to panic. "Wait! Don't! Not again!"

"Too late, Thomas. You should have accepted our gracious offer."

"We could've had so much fun together!" Chirped Remus.

"And we will! You're just not ready yet, it seems." Roman sighed with a disappointed frown, "Now, for the time being~"

"Have fun in hell instead!~" The twins chimed in unison as they clashed their swords together for a second time.

The clanging rang in Thomas' already aching head as everything fell into the blackness once more.

[bitch-butter]

more modern!au webgott. still deciding if i want to do anything with this, in the meantime she lives here~

Read More for meet-cute in the back of an Uber

***

He had known the woman across the hall from him with every sense except sight.

Could hear the sound of her heels clattering off to work in the morning as he fixed himself food before passing out, had even glanced at her back as she left the mailroom, the sheet of blonde hair that swept over her shoulder. She’d been dating a guy with light feet, who drove a car with a Texas license plate he always stared at when he smoked out by the dumpster. The car had disappeared in June, and shortly afterwards he’d heard the moving trucks outside, the sound of somebody's life being hefted out the door over a whole day.

The trucks had appeared again in August, but he’d pulled the pillow over his head and missed the majority of the move-in.

In September they raised the rent. By October he was already working longer hours to make up for it, lingering longer near the airport, taking every scheduled ride, spending every spare moment asking to pick up Fridays and Saturdays at the bar.

He’s fucking exhausted when the air turns cold. In the scant hours between working and sleeping he thinks of escaping, of all the places he could move to get away from Philadelphia. He thinks about Montana, Washington, New York, Canada, Sweden, France, and most especially the roads. Roads and roads and roads to get lost in, to get turned around and inside out on.

But it had taken a lot to get him out of California. A lot to take this apartment and make it into something like a home, to take the aggregate of these days and call them a life.

Might not be a good one, but it is his at the end of the day.

Even so, the hours were wearing on him.

It was nearly 2:45a.m. by the time he was trolling through downtown and the request chimed in, startling him out of his fugue. Blinking rapidly, he had half a mind to reject it and just cut it all short and head to bed, but his eyes caught on the destination.

His apartment building.

Joe accepts the trip before thinking about it, curiosity getting the better of him as he began winding his way back towards the Canopy hotel. One of the unseen neighbors. It’s a small world, after all.

He’s gathered people from this hotel before, typically bound for the airport, and the sight of its well lit doorway, the patterned stones of the sidewalk before it, the richly detailed façade and canopy always made him crave steak. Steak, stiff sheets, and even stiffer booze. Fine things. Things he has neither the time nor the inclination for, in spite of the empty comforts they promised him in the dark after hours of shuffling strangers from one building to the next.

In spite of this stranger.

He stood just outside of the circle of light cast from the hotel, the rosy glow of its many lights barely catching onto the angles of his curls, the lines of his neck above the collar of his coat, and the shapes that made his face in the semi-dark. He waved one hand out to Joe as he crawled to a stop, stepping towards him with heavy movements as he pocketed his phone and pulled the door open.

“David?” Joe prompts, turning to look over his shoulder as the guy slid deftly into the backseat.

“That’s me,” the guy confirmed gently, buckling his seatbelt as Joe pulled out from his spot and made for the familiar route towards home.

“Anything you want to listen to?” he asks, eyes glancing up into the rearview mirror to catch another glimpse of the shadowed man, David, and what pleasing shadows they were. In the neon lights passing beyond the car window he spotted his jaw, his mouth, then back to the road, then back to the mirror and his cheek, then back to the road.

He was...a type. A type Joe hadn’t felt a pull towards in a minute, but…

In the mirror he could see the heavy bobbing of David’s throat, before he gave his head a small shake.

“No,” he said simply.

Shrugging with just his face, Joe took the hint gracefully. Not a talker, he thought as he reached for the volume and turned the radio back up. The late night station was playing the sort of heroin music he had liked to listen to deep, deep in the night as a teenager, the CD’s he had gathered up from ‘Used’ bins, half-priced sections. The comforting sound of Lou Reed flooding out from the stereo brought a wry grin to his face.

The last time he heard “Satellite of Love” they had all been singing it in unison on mushrooms back in California.

Long time ago.

Still, the song made him feel abruptly young.

They ride in silence, Lou cushioning the oftentimes uncomfortable stillness as best he could, until Joe happens to glance up back into the rearview and catch sight of tears. David, his unseen neighbor, or so he presumed, stared listlessly out the window of the car as it glided through the barren streets, streetlamps catching onto the empty canvas of his window and lighting up his face just long enough to illuminate the absent pain of his face. He looked back a few more times to be certain his tired eyes weren’t playing tricks on him, but found the same: darkness, light, tears, darkness, light, tears.

Joe paused, mouth opening but remaining voiceless. He’s had people cry in here before, of course he has, but this particular incident is catching him off guard. Maybe because this guy lives in his building, maybe because Joe likes the look of him, maybe because he makes no motions, makes no sound, as he cries. It could be any of these things in isolation, and in combination it turns his head into mince meat.

He’s too nice for his own fucking good sometimes, swear to Christ.

“Are you ok?” he ventured quietly, half afraid his voice would get lost under the still hum of the music, of Lou Reed’s snapping backup vocals.

David’s eyes shot to him in the mirror, and Joe glanced back to the road quick as lightning. Blue, blue, blue, his veins throbbed, stunned and intently, irrevocably, interested.

In the backseat he heard the sound of a somewhat shaky inhale, before a hard exhale. “I just had a hard night.”

“You want to talk about it?” Joe pressed, glancing back to get another eyeful of blue, this time drawn sideways to watch the lights go past.

David paused, an almost audible swallow moving through his throat. “I came out here for...someone,” he said softly, voice raw. “And it’s just not going very well.”

Someone. Damn it.

Joe tamped down his disappointment and looked back to the empty road before them. “Something you two can work out?”

He could see the impression of movement out of the corner of his eye, a shake of the head. “He isn’t who I thought he was.”

He, Joe noted, and looked back towards the mirror. “Nobody ever is,” he said easily, fighting between bitterness and comfort.

David coughed out a choked ghost of a laugh, wiping at his face. “That’s not what I want to hear right now.”

Joe smirked into the mirror, wondering how much of his own face the other man could see in the dark. “Not being paid to tell you what you want to hear,” he said back lightly, happy at least that the heaviness of his passenger's mood had lifted somewhat. “Just get you home.”

“Home,” David repeated darkly, rolling his eyes with a weary humor. “I don’t have a home, not anymore.”

A familiar enough sentiment. So much so that Joe found himself nodding towards the road. “That’s what I thought when I first came out here.”

“You’re not from here?”

“Nope.”

“Where are you from?” David asked, and the curiosity in his voice caught hold of his eyes again, and he found himself looking back into the mirror where he was being watched.

“California,” he answered, trying to sound cagey as he quickly moved on. “Where are you from?”

David blinked into the mirror, before looking back towards the darkened window. “New York.”

“Why’d you come out here?”

“I’m supposed to be writing,” the other man sighed, shaking his head once more, an aggrieved turn to his mouth as he looked back to the mirror for one moment and then back to the passing lights the next. “I’m supposed to be engaged, I guess.”

Well, that’s the clincher. Joe fought not to scowl, before reprimanding himself for getting his hopes up in the first place. Nobody fucks their Uber driver, especially not guys that get picked up at the Canopy, and especially not guys that look like that. It's just been too long since he last had anybody, he’s letting his dick get the best of him.

That’s what he tells himself.

“But it’s not going very well,” he noted, trying to sound as terribly wheedling as he felt.

David’s mouth scrunched up, an oddly sardonic expression. “It’s funny what a new city will do to you, huh?”

Joe cleared his throat, attempting to straddle the line between professional and familiar enough to comfort. “Listen, I might not be an expert or anything, but it will get better,” he assured, half grimacing at the saccharine nature of the words. “It does get better.”

The other man scoffed. “That’s just for gay kids.”

A laugh startled out of his mouth, and Joe couldn’t even pretend to hold it back. “Well, it works for people a long way from home, too,” he insisted, meeting David’s eyes in the mirror once more to take in the softly humored expression held inside it. “Trust me. Hated it here the first year I lived here. But you just gotta sit in it for a minute.”

Another sigh. “I’m trying.”

Joe felt a strange warmth towards the man in his backseat, towards his slumped shoulders, his drawn face, the electricity of his eyes. “If you still hate it here in a year I’ll give you a lift to the airport myself,” he promised, imbuing his voice with as much of that sentiment as he could as he rounded the corner onto their block.

David looked back at him, an open intensity in the turn of his mouth, the icy calculation of his eyes. “I’ll make sure to add you as Favorite Driver, then,” he said easily, and Joe could swear he heard some of that particular interest he had felt himself dripping from the other man’s words.

“Customer is always right,” he responded weakly, pulling up alongside the stone building, its three levels of dark windows and the brightly lit gape of its front door.

David nodded, almost to himself, before making a vague gesture with his hand. “There’s a lot in the back, there.”

“I got it,” Joe assured, pulling off the street to round into the back. He’d do best to keep their shared residence to himself. After all, this guy is not only likely engaged but probably wouldn’t appreciate being hit on by his Uber driver only to find out they live in the same building after having to shoot Joe down. Can of worms.

Doesn’t mean he’s happy about it. He really does need to fucking get out more.

David unbuckled himself as Joe stopped in front of the back door, the door made of old iron that screeched and creaked with regularity, needing an extra shove just to close completely sometimes. “Well, thank you very much.”

Joe nodded, looking over his shoulder like the needy motherfucker he was. “I hope -” he started, putting a pause on the other man’s movements just long enough for them to look into each other’s faces for the first time. Shadows cut over David’s face, obscuring his lips, the side of his face, and leaving only a single eye, still red at the rims, staring back at him in curiosity. Joe fought not to gnaw against his lip, acknowledging dully that he’s already made this odd enough. “Well, good luck.”

David blinked at him, head moving in a dismissive nod and letting the light catch onto the paleness of his skin, illuminating the little smile that moved over his lips. “Thank you,” he responded, meeting Joe's eyes with some manner of gratitude. “Thank you for…”

As the other man trailed off, Joe let the temporary insanity move through his head like a stiff breeze. “Give it a chance. And break up.”

Laughing bemusedly, David looked at him almost stunned but at least appearing amused as he continued looking deeper and deeper into the shadows of Joe's face. “I can’t decide if you’re trying to get a good tip or not,” he said, teasing and searching at once.

“I can’t give away all my secrets, this was only a $12 ride,” Joe quipped back, chest going warm with the way David laughed at him again. At least he wasn’t offended. Or so he appeared.

“Well, I’ll take it into consideration,” he said decidedly, and the soft interest of his eyes was back again, but Joe must be imagining it. He’s imagining things, he’s tired. “Thank you again.”

“Take care,” he said quietly, exhausted by his own moods as David opened the door and stepped out into the lot.

David lingered at the door for a moment, hand pressed against it as he looked back towards Joe in the warm light of the apartment building behind him. His mouth opened, before almost grimacing closed as he gave his head a small shake. Sighing, he met Joe's eyes again just long enough to nod at him with a gentle smile.

“Drive safe, Joe,” he said, and shut the door.

Fuck.

Joe watched him go, making sure he got in and that the fucking screeching door shut behind him alright.

Maybe he’ll see him around. Who knows? It’s all wishful thinking. He’s only met one of his neighbors in the entire time he’s lived here, there’s no way that he’s ever seeing that guy again.

Joe doesn’t get that lucky. He hasn’t gotten lucky in a long, long time, in more ways than one.

He sighed.

Nothing a few more hours out on the road can’t cure. After all, bars are going to start closing fast, he can at least make some money while he daydreams about fucking his neighbor.

He swipes into the app, completing the trip and finding it in his heart to rate David a clean Five Stars for being hot and emotionally distressed enough for Joe to want to escort him upstairs and soothe him with his dick. Maybe he should start letting himself go on apps again if he’s going to start being this fucking annoying to himself.

By the time he’s back downtown waiting for a flurry of drunk passengers, his phone is chiming at him happily.

You received a tip!

Joe almost grains as he taps in, steeling himself for the unhappy acknowledgement that he was probably really going to be paying for that crack about breaking up with his fiancé. Literally paying.

But the feeling leaves him at the sight of it.

Custom Amount: $100.

He grins down at his phone like a psychopath, rubbing across his face at the absent realization he was flushing up, and nodded into the acceptance. At least now if they run into each other in the hall it won’t be awkward.

Joe has thanked you for your tip

[bad-bitch-beauchamp]

Songs About Me: Chapter Six

Yay! Thanks for your patience while I was away! Without further ado, the first (official) date!

READ ON AO3

Louisburg Square, Beacon Hill, Boston

“How’d you do that?” Claire was fumbling with her keys, trying to get the lock to work on her black front door while Jamie waited just below on the sidewalk.

“Do what?”

“How did you get here so fast? Because one minute, you said you were leaving your place and the next, you were on my front porch. The way I see it is you’re either Superman or you’re a stalker.”

He chuckled. “Just another twist of fate for us, lass.” Claire turned to face him. He stood for a moment watching her and if it had been any longer, she might’ve started to feel self-conscious from his gaze. He shook his head and looked up at her through long, red lashes. His hand stretched upward and outward toward her, and her soft smile made his heart soar. Claire took a deep breath, took his large hand in hers, and descended the brick stairs toward the night’s adventure.

There were only three things Jamie confirmed with Claire before their date that night: her address, what time he should pick her up, and if she liked Italian food. Claire was never one to turn down a bowl of noodles and, with a glance up at her rather large walking partner, ventured Jamie was never one to say no to carbs. He had declined to tell her exactly where they were to have dinner that night over text, and Claire’s curiosity was kicking in as they strolled through Boston Commons.

‘Ye said ye enjoyed Italian food, so just trust me that ye’ll like where we’re headed.”

“That’s hardly an answer.”

“It’s a good enough answer. Patience isn’t really a virtue of yer’s, is it?”

The pair continued to walk down through the Commons, wandering along pathways and strolling past monuments. Their conversation flowed easily and Claire found herself wondering how she could have only met this man, this kind and funny and compassionate and loving and enthralling man, mere hours before. Claire had grabbed a cashmere wrap before she ran down the stairs in case of chilly fall weather, and was glad for it. She started out her walk with Jamie by holding her wrap around her upper arms, secured by her hands held at her chest. As their walk continued, she caught herself letting go to touch Jamie’s arm, to lead him around a pond by the hand, to swat at him when he made a joke. She was comfortable. Their banter and laughter and talks were natural and easy.

“You have to tell me where we’re going! First, you show up at my home with a very thin explanation, and now you’re leading me through the city with no direction! I happen to think my stalker theory is holding more traction with every moment, Mr. Fraser.”

“Alright, a few things, Sassenach,” he said. Their arms were linked together as they made their way over the intersection of Charles and Beacon streets. “First off, my explanation was solid. It was fate I got to yer place so quickly.” He ushered her across the busy street and onto a smaller side street lined with trees and old facades. “Second, I’m no’ a stalker. If I was, I would have found as soon I could have after last night. Yer all I thought about today. Had I known how to find ye, I would have,” he said. He moved his hand to her lower back as he moved them down the sidewalk. Claire simply smiled down at the ground at his honest admission. “Third,” he slowed their pace, “did ye consider I jes’ wanted to spend a little extra time with ye?” He paused to open the door to the restaurant. A whisper brushed along her ear as she slid past him in the entrance, bushing against his chest. “The time I get doesna seem to be enough.” She turned to face him then. He only smiled softly, urging her forward through the doors.

Jamie pulled out a worn leather chair for her before seating himself across the small square table draped with a crisp white tablecloth and topped with two brass candlestick holders and a myriad of glassware. Claire smirked at the fanciness of it all -- they’d met in a dark bar in the middle of the night and talked over dusty bookshelves and now, she was pretending she belonged in a place like this. When Jamie had asked if she liked Italian, she figured they’d end up at a mom and pop place eating spaghetti and drinking too much wine, not acting on their best behavior at one of the finest restaurants in Beacon Hill.

“Are ye alright, Claire?”

Her head popped up to find Jamie studying her. His head cocked like a puppy who watches something new with a mix of awe and confusion in his eyes. He leaned forward as if to reach for her hand, and drew back.

“Oh, yeah, I’m fine. Sorry about that, I must’ve zoned out a bit there,” she fibbed. She fidgeted with her napkin on her lap, folding and unfolding it.

“Ye know, I--” Jamie was interrupted by the waiter. He sighed and requested two bottles of wine, a red and a white, and two whiskeys. Claire stifled a giggle at the waiter’s outfit while Jamie was acting the role of adult: the teen wore clean black slacks, a pressed white shirt, a black vest, and a white cloth on his forearm completed the look. The waiter looked at her with confusion.

“Sorry, just thinking about something that happened earlier,” she muttered. The waiter walked away, with a parting glance at Jamie.

“Care tae share what’s so funny, lass?” She expected a look of disdain. The same look Frank would’ve given her, she realized, if she acted this way at a dinner with him. There was never to be any fun, never any giggles, never any banter. She straightened in her chair and attempted to put her feelings about the absurdity of the night behind her.

“Oh, it’s nothing!” Quickly shifting the subject, she moved on. “Did I hear you order four separate alcohol drinks?”

“I wasna sure what ye liked, besides the whisky, so I thought I’d get one of everything to be safe.” It was Jamie’s turn to shift in his seat now. “Shit,” he muttered. “I forgot to ask for ice water.” Motioning back toward the waiter’s station he stopped to add, “Wait, did ye even want ice water? Mebbe ice tea? A coffee? I should’ve asked what ye wanted instead of assuming, Claire, and I’m sorry for it…”

“Jamie. It’s fine.” It was Claire’s turn to reach across the table and take his hand. His eyes moved from the waiter across the room instantly down to their hands. He marveled in the way her fingers intertwined with his, how she traced the bones and knuckles, drawing maps to nowhere in particular. He thumbed over the soft skin of her palms and looked up at her through long lashes. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Ye can ask me anything ye want,” he answered quickly.

“What are we doing here?”

That got his attention. His gaze hardened, his spine stiffened. “What do ye mean?” She didn’t immediately answer, so he continued on. “I asked ye here tonight, because I couldn’t stop thinking about ye all night. And then today, to see ye, to be healed by ye… Christ, I couldn’t wait to see ye or talk to ye or to hold yer hand or merely to be near ye again. If ye’d rather not see me after tonight, I understand and I respect yer wishes. If that’s the case though, I think I’d rather ye let me know that now instead of having me sit here knowing I can’t have ye. I have enough alcohol to get me through the night, I think…” A giggle erupted from the opposite side of the small square table.

“You certainly do have enough alcohol, but I’d rather like to enjoy it with you, if you don’t mind.” One hand held his, and the other held her chin in her palm, elbow propped up on the table.

“Ye’d let me see ye again?”

“Without a doubt.”

Tension flowed out of his muscles and his eyes shimmered in the candlelight. “Why’d ye ask what we were doing here then?”

“I just mean that you don’t have to go through so much trouble for us to spend time together. I know we just met but I’d wager that fancy restaurants with wine lists bigger than the menu aren’t your usual hangout. I’m a simple woman who enjoys simple pleasures, Jamie. Please don’t make this anything more than the perfect night it could be if you just relax.”

He studied her. The curls flowing down around her face, curling at her collarbones. The eyes the same color of his favorite whisky sitting in the crystal decanter on the sideboard back home. Her delicate features that reminded him of the stories of the faeries from back home. She wiggled in her seat under his gaze. He sighed. “I just wanted to honor ye, Sassenach. Do ye right,” she smirked at that. “Och, ye know what I mean,” he said and playfully squeezed her hand in his. “I wanted to treat ye the way I think ye should be treated.”

Would he ever cease to stop being so honest and vulnerable? She hoped not. This confession, his honest assessment of her, made her eyes shimmer with a thin line of unshed tears.

“Did I say something wrong? I’m sorry if I overstepped…”

“You didn’t.” She looked up from her hand in his and marveled at the way she cared for him already, so soon. “Just… thank you, Jamie.”

The waiter reappeared to take their dinner orders and the two were left to talk under their meals arrived. He talked about his favorite book, Song of Myself by Walt Whitman (“Failing to fetch me at first, keep encouraged. Missing me one place, search another. I stop somewhere waiting for you.” he brought her knuckles to her lips. She shivered. He blushed.) ; she told him about the tropical plant she’d grown from a start for the last five years, the pride and joy radiating from her words and beaming smile (“I couldna ever grow something that took that much work,” “It just takes the right touch,” “Aye, that ye have.”) . The waiter arrived back at their table with plates and bowls galore. Soon, the small tabletop was brimming with large flat bowls of pasta and salad plates layered with leafy greens; all four glasses in front of Claire were full, wine and whisky and water warming her core.

Claire didn’t immediately reach for her food, and Jamie smirked. “Tell me what yer thinkin’ about, right now. Don’t think, just answer!”

“I’m thinking that I don’t know which of these fancy forks to kill myself with.” Silence, then roarous laughter.

“I’m no’ sure what I expected ye to say, but for what it’s worth, I did consider the same the question. This is a hell of a spread!”

Vaguely, Claire thought she should eat a little more food and drink a little less liquids, but the notion rolled passed her with another twirl of whisky in her mouth. Dinner continued to pass with much less fanfare and much more excitement and laughter and banter and all the things Claire thought a date should be. It wasn’t until she went to take another sip of her whisky that she noticed it was entirely empty. About to call for another, Jamie shushed her and brought a finger to his lips to stay quiet. She giggled, then remembering to stay quiet, brought her hands up to cover her mouth. Jamie looked around them conspiratorily and pulled a hip flask from his pocket. He poured a generous amount of what she presumed to be whisky back into her glass, and topped off his own. They continued this way, with mouthfuls of noodles and laugher and soft touches that grew more bold with each sip.

“You know, the drunker you get, the more obvious you’re becoming with your thermos.” The waiter was standing before them, hands on his hips.

“ Thermose? Thermasse? I'm sorry, I don't understand. What's a thermousse?” Jamie was trying his best to put on a serious front, but Claire’s giggles made his mouth spread from a smirk all the way to an honest to God grin.

“That one. Right there in your hand.”

“Oh, the thermas-eh?” Jamie patted the spot where the now-empty flask sat in his pocket. “For yer information, it’s a hipflask and it’s actually quite stylish.”

“Sir, I can’t have you in here, drinking liquor you bought from home.”

“Och well if yer selection wasna grossly overpriced, that wouldna be an issue. But alas, I suppose it’s time for me to take my most lovely date and be on our way. To the next adventure!” The waiter looked as if he wanted to throw Jamie out of the restaurant himself but since they were apparently ready to be off into the night, he asked for his payment politely and returned in record time to usher them out the door. Jamie lent out a hand to Claire and twirled her into his side when she stood, her laughter filling the cozy space.

“Sassenach, they’re all watchin’ us. Let’s get out of here, aye?” He whispered into her hair and he focused on not bumping into tables on their way out. The other patrons watched half in annoyance and half in good-natured smiles cast their way.

“Ayeeeee!” Claire rolled her r’s as best she could and Jamie laughed so hard she could feel his chest reverberate against her back as she led him outside.

Back in the park, Claire led him down brick paths and through lines of tall trees, and he followed her every move. She knew they were only minutes from her townhouse but reveled in the magic of the gardens at night alone with him. With Jamie.

“I wrote it for you, you know,” she said quietly as she walked along the low brick wall lining the gardens. Jamie, down on the sidewalk, looked up confused.

“Ye wrote what, lass?”

“The french song you heard today. I wrote that, last night. I couldn’t sleep.”

Jamie stopped walking. When he turned to face Claire head-on, she came up a few inches above his head from standing on the low wall but felt incredibly small under his gaze. She fumbled with her dress and tried to take a step forward along the wall, but two strong hands held in place by the waist.”

“Will ye tell me what ye wrote? What the words mean?”

“I thought you said you spoke french.”

“Aye, I did. But I was so entranced by ye when I saw ye in the shop, so surprised, that I forgot to actually listen and translate,” he smirked. “Please tell me?”

She watched him for a moment. Not yet. It’s too soon for that. She leaned in close, close enough to smell his cologne and see peak of ruddy stubble on his cheeks. He closed his eyes and his mouth fell open just a bit, and she whispered, “Not a chance.”

She jumped down from the wall past his grasp, strolling back down the brick path. Jamie stood stunned, shook his head, brushed back a few rogue curls, and jogged to catch up with her pace.

---

They arrived back at Louisburg Square not more than ten minutes later. The night was getting late. Claire fidgeted with the hem of her dress, Jamie kept shrugging his shoulders in the black leather jacket, and they walked slower with each step. When it couldn’t be delayed any longer, they arrived at the brick steps to Claire’s porch.

“So, this is me.” She turns to face him, to prolong this moment, this night.

He smirked. “Aye, Sassenach. I remember.”

“Why do you call me that?” He cocked his head at her. “A sassenach, I mean.”

“Och, I mean no offense by it and can stop if ye’d like. It just means outlander, someone not from here.”

“Here? It seems that here is Boston, and you’re not from here either!” She crossed her arms in mock admonishment.

“That mebbe so, but I can’t help that being with you makes me feel like home,” he said as he took a step toward her. Her arms fell to her sides then, and Jamie reached for them in his.

“Was that jus’ the most foolish thing to say? Shit, I jus’ keep making a right fool of myself around ye it seems. First the voicemails and now…”

“I understand… exactly, how you feel.” She couldn’t look at him. It should be too soon to feel this way. He was a practically a stranger, and yet, she couldn’t shake the feeling something was different. As if he could read her mind, he replied with questions of his own.

“Is it usual? What it is between us?” He watched her with such intensity, such revere, such awe. She met his eyes, and softened.

“It’s often something like this, I think.” He nodded in agreement. “But no. This isn’t usual. It’s different.” He nodded again, seeming to memorize the pattern of the bricks on the sidewalk under their feet. “I guess that’s my queue… Thank you for a truly wonderful night, Jamie,” she dropped his hands and began to walk up the steps to her door when a strong arm pulled her back into a familiar warm embrace.

“Claire, I--” he swallowed and took a step back from her. She noticed that in the distance he created, his hand still held onto her waist. His fingertips pressed into her flesh and goosebumps erupted under the fabric. She met his eyes and sank into their ocean depths.

“I’d very much like to kiss ye. May I?”

---

It's HAPPENING!!! These sweet babies went on their first date! I figured based on what we know about them, they're both too down to earth for some fancy restaurant acting formal. The flask/thermos scene is based on Jess and Nick's date in New Girl where they get absolutely trashed in a very similar situation. Plus, it just seems like Jamie would be the kind of guy to have a flask on him, right? How are we feeling about these two? About the date? I'm so excited to get to the angsty part of this! I promise it's coming up soon. (Like, next chapter, soon). Thanks for being so patient with me while I was away enjoying post-deployment bliss with my husband! Writing wasn't on the top of my list, but it's good to be back! As always, thanks for reading. Your comments and kudos here and interactions on Tumblr really do mean so much to me and I really appreciate your support for this story and for me. Stay safe and healthy out there! <3

[4lexturn3rs]

Let Them Stare - Alex Turner

"Alex get the fuck up, we need to go for groceries" y/n groaned as she waltzes down the steps toward her boyfriend Alex who was sitting there trying to figure out how to work Twitter. "Um.... yeah.... alright" He slurred out more focusing on his phone than her.

"Whatcha doin'" the bounce in her accent, causing him to glance up at her sparkling y/e/c eyes. "I'm just trying to-" "YOU'RE MAKING A TWITTER!" She screeched in excitement "no I'm not" he spat out as fast as he could and threw his phone down on the couch, she reached down to pick it up but before she could he grabbed her hand "never mind that you said we have to go to the market so let's go to market, go go go" he pushed her out the door both hands and her hips.

As they both climbed into the car, y/n shouted "I call the aux" as she put an 'L' on her forehead in the most childish manner. "I swear y/n if you play any bad music-" "Woah Woah Woah who the fuck do you think I am" she giggled as she plugged the long navy chord into her phone. And Coffee and TV by blue began to play.

Do you feel like a chain store? Practically floored One of many zeros kicked around, bored Your ears are full, but you're empty, holding out your heart To people who never really care how you are

"SO GIVE ME COFFEE AND TVVVVVVV" Alex yelled an octave lower than the song. "Seen so much I'm going blind and I'm brain dead virtually," they sang down the road as they pulled into Asda, which they could have easily walked to but just couldn't be arsed. "I told you, Alex, I'm a natural Jo Whiley" y/n giggled confidently as she stepped out of the car. "Yeah, yeah, okay, sure you are," Alex playfully teased and rolled his eyes at her. "Now, no more jokes, only business" Alex furrowed his brow down at her, but even he couldn't take himself seriously. "Do you have the list" she practically whispered "no, I thought you-" "ugh shit" the change in her voice alarming to everyone but Alex. "Whatever we know, what we need, right?" Alex tried to reassure her. "I mean I guess, we are for sure out of milk...or eggs... goddammit Al" her shoulders sank in frustration. "It's alright we'll just get both and then we'll just have 2 cartons of eggs or 2 jugs of milk," he stated like the problem solver he was.

As they walked through the isles of the store that was 40 minutes away from closing, they picked up necessities and some things they didn't need, like his favourite biscuits. Start the video from the top <3 Suddenly the song came on, the song that no one likes but everyone knows, the song that couldn't stop them from dancing. Alex's face darted down at y/n and hers up at him as the faint ahh's rolled in.

He held out his hand to her, and she slapped hers onto him as they stepped away from the cart in the yellow flickering lights. As they began to dance down the aisle looking like complete fools, workers with no facial expressions who just wanted to go home looked ever so annoyed. One, in particular, made eye contact with y/n, his eyes like daggers saying the meanest things with just the gaze of his sharp green eyes.

Her shoulders sunken down, she walked back to the trolley with only 3 wheels instead of the usual four, making it slump in the front. He followed behind her and grabbed her hand as she whipped around the annoyed look on her face became a faint smirk as she saw him standing there with puppy dogs "what's wrong, why'd you stop?" he frowned at her. "People are staring Al, and not in a good way." She replied, her eyes like sandpaper compared to his. "Y/N....... let them stare, we could go on fucking strictly with our moves," he breathed lovingly, pulling her further away from the trolley. As they began to dance again, she looked down at his feet, which were moving very little compared to his hips, "You can go on Strictly all you want... I think I'll stick with Countdown"

[desiraypark]

Hate You

Characters: Modern/AU Kylo Ren (no particular occupation) x Plus Sized Female Reader Content: Smut / Makeup Sex / Unprotected Sex / Implied Cheating (but I say the accused didn’t cheat) / Mild Jealousy / Mild Possessiveness 

Warning: Kind of a pregnancy/breeding kink? (both characters suddenly consent to the possibility of pregnancy mid-intercourse) I honestly was just in the mood to write some makeup sex lol. Hope you like it. 

“I fucking hate you,” you whimpered. 

Your ass was planted on Poe’s desk, thick thighs spread, and knees held up by Kylo as he licked, sucked, and slurped on your juicy pussy. You grabbed his hair and pushed him deeper into your hot center, and he slowly let his tongue roll down your clit and flicked it inside and around your weeping walls.

He was determined to make you remember whose woman you were. Yeah, you were mad. You’d broken up with him last week. But that didn’t mean shit to him. He let you have your tantrum and now he was going to give you your medicine. Something to calm you down.

Kylo was in the shower last Thursday when his phone buzzed. You knew you shouldn’t have, but you got a quick peek. His ex, Sharon, had texted him, “Thanks for checking on me.” Next thing you knew, you were storming into the bathroom demanding answers that Kylo refused to give to you.

“She’s got something going on, so I texted her,” was all he said. He didn’t want to divulge her personal information. So, you changed into your clothes, grabbed your purse, and left. To make matters worse, he didn’t even chase after you! 

Now, it was the next Saturday--Poe’s birthday. You knew he was going to be at the party, and you had every intention of making him jealous. You were a living doll in your short, off-the-shoulders dress and sky-high heels (that you had to practice walking in a few hours before the party). You had a couple of shots--just a couple--and danced with just about everyone--guys and girls. You saw Kylo when he walked in, and saw that he was paying you no attention. 

Finally, you got some good sense and asked yourself, “What are you doing? Forget him!” “Adorn” by Miguel was playing when you were standing around with Rose, just talking about work. Suddenly, a guy came up to you asking to dance. You remembered that Kylo was there, but pushed him out of your head. It was nice to be approached during a slow song, and you took the chance. When the dance was over, you went to the bathroom. Of course, when you came out, Kylo was standing outside, staring you down.

“What, are you trying to make me jealous or something?” he asked.

You laughed at him. “Please. Don’t flatter yourself.” You started to walk away when he gave up the attitude.

“Look, look, look. Let’s talk...”

You’d gone into Poe’s home office, and soon, meaningless chatter turned into a hot kiss, that led to you being hoisted onto Poe’s desk. Kylo pulled your panties down, sat in the office chair on the other side of the desk, and went to town on your pussy.

“I fucking hate you,” you whimpered.

That seemed to egg Kylo on. His performance got sloppier, and louder. You grabbed his hair and humped his face--leaving your scent for any other bitch after you to smell.  “I’m coming...” you whispered.  “Yeah?” he asked, voice muffled by your fat lips.  “Yeah...” you whimpered breathlessly. Kylo slid three of his fingers inside of you at once, and you grabbed the edge of the desk.  “Fuck!” you squealed. He reattached his lips as he rubbed that sweet spot at the roof of your sloppy pussy. The coil stretching inside of you finally snapped, and you fell backward on the desk--quietly letting euphoria rush your body like a wave. Kylo gave you very little time to adjust to the spinning room. Suddenly, he was pushing your right leg back. You looked down to see his hard dick in his hands, inching its way to the place that called his name.

His throbbing head eased through and stretched your walls, and you fell backward again. Kylo grabbed you by the fabric of your dress and pulled you up.

“Look at me when I’m fucking you.”

He buried himself deep inside of you--reconnecting your bodies for the first time in, well...days. Just over a week. You gazed in his eyes with a lax jaw as he moved his hips--slow and sensually, making you feel every inch and every pulse of his length.

“You’re coming home with me tonight, alright?”

“Okay...” you whimpered.

He picked up his pace and you squealed. “Don’t you ever fucking leave me again.”

Your eyes rolled back and he slammed into you hard. 

“Ah!” you cried--your two front teeth pressing into your bottom lip. 

“Okay?”

“Okay.”

“Looking through my phone, thinking you know shit...”

Why’d he have to bring up the phone again? Just when you were about to come to your senses and sneak in a question about the text, he dove into your neck and sucked on it. To your hairline your eyes went again, rolling back in ecstasy. Then, he really sealed the deal.

Kylo wrapped his arms around your chubby waist and picked you up off the desk. You gripped his shoulders, scared he was going to drop you--but he carried you with him to the loveseat against the wall.

“Ride your dick, Princess.”

You maneuvered your body to get more comfortable and did as you were told. Your fingers digging into his shoulders, you bounced up and down on his length. He pulled the bust of your dress down and took your left nipple into his mouth, then the right.

“Fuck,” he whimpered, gripping your ass. He guided you up and down--faster and harder, making you give up your need for secrecy. You moaned and cried to the ceiling as you took him. Then, you looked down at him with lusty eyes.

“Put a baby in me,” you said.

“What?” he asked. But his voice carried a tone that was more so “verifying” your request. He knew he’d heard right, but wanted to make sure you’d heard yourself. 

You rested your hands on his shoulders. “I want all of your nut. I want all of it inside of me. Put a fucking baby in me.”

You didn’t need to repeat yourself. Kylo gritted his teeth and slowed your movement--working you slow and sweetly. Then, he started moving is own hips until he found that sweet, little zone of yours again. You moaned and whimpered as he probed the spot over and over again--and worked you into your second orgasm. 

You squeezed him and covered his dick with your juices, and he held you down--sheathing himself balls deep.

“You ready for it?”

“Yes...” you moaned, still riding out your wave. 

Kylo grabbed your hips again, and motioned for you to keep moving--sensitive walls and all--and soon, you felt your velvety, pink interior being painted with his warm, sweet seed. His shoulders slumped and you fell forward on his chest. The two of you caught your breath--oblivious to the music and the movement just yards away.

[carpsurprise]

thank you so much for the sam fluff 😭😭😭 please literally dump anything, any thoughts you have about sam i would literally indulge in it

!! anytime anytime!! sam is *chefs kiss*!! this was quickly written and a bit suggestive near the end but!! i hope you enjoy <3

The rain had seemed to come out of nowhere. The closest shelter the farmer could get to was the nice blue house by the river, home to their favorite family of four in the valley. After a quick knock, they had opened the door and slipped inside, mindful of any mud on their shoes. Jodi had given them the look, but a guilty smile had caused her to turn a blind eye.

“Sammy’s in his room.”

That was what the farmer wanted to know. Thanking her quickly, pulling off their shoes, they ran down the hallway to their boyfriend’s room, knocking and entering. Sam had looked as if he had just gotten out of the shower— or perhaps the rain as well— knocking his head around in a towel in his usual lounging wear. He gave them a bright smile accompanied with a kiss on the forehead. Sighing, the farmer sat down on his bed, taking the towel from him and drying their own hair and arms.

“The hell are you doing on my bed all wet?”

The farmer waved their hand at him dismissively. “If you can eat and drink and do everything else here, then my wet butt shouldn’t be a problem.”

He rolled his eyes to himself, moving the farmer’s knee further towards the wall, plopping down in between their spread legs. Sam laid his head on the farmer’s stomach, wrapping his arms around their thighs with a content sigh. He had glanced up at them, surely craning his neck a bit too far for it to be comfortable. The worried, almost doting response had been caught quickly, the farmer too charmed by Sam’s upside down wide eyes and friendly grin. 

“Love you,” he spoke. His head turned, grabbing his guitar off the edge of the bed with one hand and positioning it to be comfortable for him and the farmer’s extended legs. His attention was soon focused on the guitar on top of him… on top of the farmer. The farmer had gone to sit up, the back of Sam’s head stubbornly staying glued to their stomach. Propping themselves up by the palms of their hands, Sam’s better access to his guitar had given him the push he needed to start seriously playing.

The song was easily recognizable, it was one of his favorite songs to sing and play on his acoustic. His voice was going in between his real vocal ability and goofily singing, despite the song  being nothing but depressing. As he got deeper into the song he had returned to his normal tone, finishing each verse with a quick swipe of his tongue over his lip. The song had begun to slow down, causing the farmer to slowly open their eyes once more and ground themself back into the real world.

They scratched at his head, enjoying the rarity of Sam with no hair gel. “Hey, why’d you pick that song?”

He glanced up at them again, giving them a sweet smile. “No particular reason. I’m doing okay, promise. You don’t gotta worry about me.” Sitting up, he moved his guitar back to the side of his bed. With a grin, he had diverted his attention back to the farmer, pressing a kiss to their lips. “Don’t tell me you don’t like my singin’, babe.”

The farmer shook their head. “Of course I do. Kinda wanna see you go crazy on those drums again, though.”

Sam’s lopsided grin grew, rolling his eyes playfully and lightly pushing the farmer down against his bed by the shoulder. Crawling on top of them, settling his place back in between their legs, he shook his head. “Not on my to-do list right now, actually.”

“Then what is?”

He kissed the farmer again, holding their chin with his right hand. “Take a guess.”

[haikyupid]

ARTIST’S LOVE NOTE ( PLEASE READ )

so i clearly wasn’t able to hold a 100 milestone event; but only bcause i really wasn’t expecting to reach it until maybe 6 months-ish later into this blogs journey, i kid you all not — so to reach 200 in a month? wow, thank you all so much! this is such a huge deal for me as i know that each of my content’s posted specifically targeted towards a particular person, which ofc, wouldn’t really suit everyone’s taste unlike general hcs as an example, so thank you all sticking around 🥺👉💖👈

and thank you all so, so, so much for following this account. each follow means a lot to me since i created this blog expecting to only be followed when requesting, then be unfollowed once their/your order is out — and i was okay with that; but no, some of you actually stuck around for as long as i can remember 🥺 and some of you didn’t even request, you just followed this account for some reason, and i’m very grateful for that.

thank you so much for each follow, comment, like, and reblog — especially this, since the follows just came flooding in from each of your reblogs 💀 it means a whole lot to me when any of you show some form of recognition/appreciation for my mediocre work, so thank you, thank you, thank you!

This is a followers-only event; I do actually check from the screenshots I’ve taken seconds before this was posted if you’re actually one of the followers. So no, I will not be accepting your submission if you had just followed this blog after this post was created; but, this will be a special event that I’ll be hosting for each milestone that I reach, just with different song choices/themes, maybe you’ll be a part of that?

I’m holding this event specifically to thank my followers, especially the ones who actually interact — again, thank you! I appreciate it so, so much!

‘Serenades of Love’ Soundtrack Includes

1D themed music-matchups; yes, I pick the music that I think perfectly fit you and your chosen character’s relationship! This one will only contain SFW content (will most definitely change in the future, so I’m sorry in advance if you don’t want to stick around for that). Doesn’t include gifs, but does include two very short drabbles, one for each song that I’ll choose for you and your character. You must, and I repeat, must follow the following format/instructions for me to create your Serenade Playlist:

Submit

pls use submit for this one! i won’t accept asks since they seem to get eaten, and so far, none of the submits have gotten deleted except two — a huge difference compared to the number of asks that got deleted.

Frequent

so for this one, i actually want you all to submit your ‘frequently used/recently used’ set of emojis! i believe that there are 30 different emojis in this set, so do list them all down for me, please and thank you!

Why Follow

pls list down the reason why you followed this blog — this could be the most random answer. you could answer with ‘bcause it was in my recommendations’ or ‘idk, the aesthetic?’ and i won’t judge it (not completely true since it’ll also affect which song you’ll have, but what i mean is you could say something mean and it won’t bother me!)

Reason To Start and Stay

why’d you start watching haikyuu in the first place? was it recommended to you? did you see some hot edits/fanarts and thought ‘oooh, yeah, i’m gonna watch’? and why is it that you stayed? tell me whatever it is, i’d love to know!

Why Them

tell me who your favourite character is (the person these serenades of love are directed to) and why them? your answer could be as random, cheesy, funny, rude-ish, and i would accept them, but i’d love it if you elaborate on the reason.

Letter To Me

legit just write what you want to say to me, aka, kyupid. i also like interacting with just anyone, so i’ll be looking forward to this one!

That’s It

so yeah, that’s it! from this point on, you can write down whatever it is that you’d like — how your day went, some thirst/floof thoughts you have about haikyuu, what you ate, lich rally anything you want, write it down!

You can submit up until Saturday 11:59 (MST) on August 15, 2020. Otherwise, I will not be accepting your submissions from then on.

Follow the rules accordingly as well, please. It sometimes irks me when I’ve clearly put out instructions only for them to be ignored, so I’m asking you kindly, please follow the instructions and don’t leave out any information I’m asking for!

Please, please, please do not copy this ‘aesthetic’ and event idea — go ahead and do music-themed events, but please don’t copy this exact one.

I have thought hard on this, so just please don’t, I really do beg of you. Not only have I had a problem, but also a couple of friends and a handful of accounts that I follow have been dealing with some problems regarding ‘plagiarism’ and just other blogs simply copying their ideas and claiming it as ‘theirs’ — so please, just don’t.

Haikyupid © Have been in the works since 200724 Released on 200811

[ggukcangetit]

Dreamcatchers 5

Pairing: jungkook x oc

Summary: DI Jeon didn’t need a new partner. Unfortunately, his superiors felt otherwise; especially considering the extremely high-profile murder that had just taken place in the port city. Recent transfer, DI Choi Yuri finds herself confronted with a new cityscape, unfamiliar people, a hostile partner, and a homicide that is certain to bring back unpleasant memories.  

Genre/AU: fluff/action/mystery | detective! au | police!jungkook, police!oc

Word Count: 3.7k

Rating: NC-17

Warnings: mentions of violence, alcohol, blood, drugs, death. basically stuff you’d associate with a murder mystery/crime drama.

Chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | A/N:  found a lovely group of people at bsh and their enthusiasm is infectious enough to get me to write a lot more than i had originally planned. reminding everyone that this story features a named oc because i’m still very unfamiliar with writing second person reader inserts. i’m not aiming for strict accuracy in this story, and all criminal investigation/forensics knowledge i have has been gathered by watching crime drama/procedural dramas! my knowledge of geography is also not totally accurate so apologies for that. once again, one thing right by @hobios​ prompted me to write a police inspector! jungkook story. would highly recommend reading that because it’s probably one of my most favorite pieces of writing! additional note: the timeline at the end of the post is what i imagine yuri and jeongguk were constructing on the station’s white board in the last scene.

20th December

Seokjin was inside his bakery, getting ready to open in a little bit, when frantic knocking interrupted him. Checking his watch, he saw that it was 6.52 am, which meant that he had 8 minutes until opening. While people in this town were known to wake up at the crack of dawn, he had never had anyone knocking at his door before opening time. A second set of knocks - much louder this time - made him rush over to the front door.

"They've arrested Jimin on suspicion of murder."

Taehyung stood there looking more lost than he had ever seen him. Even more than when he had found Seokjin months after the latter had left home. Even more than when he had been given the responsibility of taking over the company. Taehyung, who struggled to wake up in time for 10 am meetings, was wide awake before the clock struck 7 and looked like he hadn't slept a wink the previous night.

"Did you run all the way here?" Seokjin asked. Taehyung's hair looked windswept and beads of perspiration lined his forehead despite it being the middle of winter.

"Why've they arrested him? He would never do something like that!"

"Come inside first. You'll catch a cold if you stay outside like this."

Once inside, Taehyung didn't look any less perturbed - his expressive eyes glistening with many different emotions. Seokjin brought out a cup of hot chocolate and a red bean bun, sitting down opposite his younger brother.

"Now, tell me what's going on."

"Jimin was arrested last night on suspicion of murder."

"Murder? You mean Eunwoo? They think Jimin had something to do with Eunwoo's death?"

Taehyung nodded his head, the initial rush of adrenaline having worn off, leaving him looking significantly more worn out.

"Do you know why? How did you even find out? Did Jimin tell you?"

"No. Ahreum did." Taehyung rubbed his face with his hands, trying to rid himself of the terrifying thoughts rushing through his mind. "She was there when Yuri - that's her friend who's also Jeongguk's new partner - made the call. There must be some mistake!"

Seokjin bit his lip worriedly. While Jimin had been Taehyung's best friend since they were little, there was no doubt that the former led a very wild life involving many questionable escapades. He didn't know much about Yuri, but there was no doubt in his mind that Jeongguk was a very competent detective who knew what he was doing.

"I don't know what I should do." Taehyung's voice, jolted him out of his thoughts. "I should go down to the station, shouldn't I? Jimin probably needs someone there with him. What about getting a lawyer? Should we ask Namjoon? I-"

"Slow down, Taehyung," Seokjin said, patting his brother's shoulder reassuringly. "I'm sure Jimin's gotten a lawyer himself. His family has a lot of resources. But if you want, you can drop by the station in case he needs something."

"Y-yeah, I should do that. I'll go right now. I- Shit!" Taehyung patted his coat pockets frantically. "I can't find my car keys!"

"You didn't drive here," reminded Seokjin, gently. "Do you want me to drive you there?"

The bell hanging above the front door jingled softly at that moment, signalling Seokjin's first customer of the day.

"No, you shouldn’t leave your bakery. It would be bad for business." Taehyung shook his head, the helpless look in his eyes not leaving him despite his conviction to leave his brother out of this.

"Why don't you ask Ahreum if she can give you a lift? Isn't she usually up by this time?"

"You're right! I'll do that!"

Seokjin busied himself with the customer who had just come in, his eyes wandering towards his brother ever so often. Ahreum picked him up 15 minutes later, but Seokjin couldn't shake off the worried feeling he had gotten after seeing Taehyung so frantic and helpless.

...

Yuri had reached the station at 6 that morning. She hadn't slept last night, going through every inch of evidence and every statement they had taken related to Kang Eunwoo's murder. Her stomach had dropped when she had read the email from Seulgi last night. It wasn't that she was convinced that Jimin was a saint who had nothing to do with this, but the fact that he had finally decided to give a blood sample suggested either that he was innocent, or that he was guilty but somehow knew that he would be able to escape the charges. Both options did not bode well with her.

Jeon arrived around half past 6, the bags under his eyes suggesting that he had also had a sleepless night. He didn't say anything, just heading straight for his desk and pouring over a set of files like he had a final exam he was cramming for.

Chief Inspector Goh had spoken to both of them on a conference call last night once news of Jimin's arrest had been confirmed.

"Are we completely sure about this?" His voice hoarse, indicating that the call had disturbed his slumber.

"Yes, sir," Yuri replied, not waiting for her partner to chip in. She was the one who had received the email from Seulgi, she had been the one to convince Jimin for a blood sample - this was her line of inquiry. Which made her all the more nervous.

"I'm sure I don't need to remind either of you that the Parks are difficult customers. Young Mr. Park does not have a criminal record despite his many infractions over the years."

"We are aware, sir." Jeon answered this time, being more familiar with the social landscape than Yuri. "Everything will be carried out according to proper procedure."

"Good. Be prepared to deal with lawyers as well. I have a suspicion that that bastard Song will be representing the Park boy tomorrow. Jeongguk, I'm sure you're aware of his reputation and the kinds of clients he usually represents."

Yuri did not know about this particular lawyer, but made a note to look up his previous cases to get an understanding of what they were up against. She had no doubt that Jeon would be as unhelpful as he had been since she had first arrived.

"You can't start the interview before 8 am, but given that he was arrested just before midnight, we will have lost 8 precious hours out of the total 48 before we have to either charge him or release him on bail. Be clear, be smart, and do not allow anyone to string you along."

"Yes, sir." They both replied, before ending the call.

"Do you want to go over the interview strategy?"

Jeon's words took Yuri by surprise. She had been expecting a cold shoulder at best, and unfiltered hostility at worst.

"Y-yeah sure," she replied, turning her chair around to find that he had moved over to her side of the cubicle already.

"I think we should lead with the blood match," he continued, frowning at a sheet of paper. "What do you think?"

"While that is the most efficient way to approach it," said Yuri, pausing to organize her thoughts. "We could also press him to provide us with an alibi."

"Why'd you think that?"

Yuri tapped her fingers on the table, wondering how far she should try and explain her idea to Jeon. "I just... He was very uncooperative about providing an alibi last time. But then he came down and voluntarily gave a blood sample, which has put him in a much worse position than not providing an alibi. I don't know why he would refuse the low risk option in favor of the high risk one."

Jeon scoffed. "Well you clearly don't know Jimin then."

"Well obviously not like you lot do," she frowned, folding her arms across her chest.

"Don't get me wrong," he continued, leaning against the divider. "Your confusion is completely valid, but this behavior is very much in character for Jimin."

"How'd you mean?"

"He's a loose canon. He has no regard for authority - half of what he does is to piss off people in power or positions of authority. Jimin's always been like that as far as I can remember. But-" he paused and rubbed the back of his neck tiredly - "this is much more serious. This is murder."

Yuri pressed her lips together, wondering how difficult the interview was going to be.

8 am

"You are aware that you have been arrested on suspicion of the murder of Kang Eunwoo on 16th December."

Park Jimin looked very different from the previous few times Yuri had met him. His silver hair was devoid of any gel, making him look drastically younger. He was not wearing expensive lounge wear like he had been during the previous interview. The only thing that remained unchanged was the emotionless look in his cold grey eyes.

His lawyer, on the other hand, looked quite cheerful - smug even. As if he knew in advance that his client would get off without any charges no matter how serious the offense.

"When you were here a couple of days ago, we asked you where you were on the night of December 15th. And you did not provide us with an answer." Yuri paused, trying in vain to discern something from Jimin's expression. "So let me ask you again - where were you on the night of December 15th?"

"No comment."

"I must impress upon you the importance of this matter. You are the prime suspect in the murder of a rival family's heir. If you do not provide an alibi, we will be forced to assume that you do not have one."

Silence.

"Your blood was found on the victim's clothes." Jeon took over, moving along to the main line of inquiry. "What can you tell us about that?"

"No comment."

"The victim's father says that you visited their house on the night that the victim was murdered. What do you have to say about that?"

"No comment."

This was not going any better than the previous interview. In fact, Yuri thought this one was much worse. Even though they should have had the upper hand, Jimin's unperturbed, stoic expression indicated otherwise. The blood on the sleeve was enough to charge him, but with the Park family's resources there was always a chance that Jimin would be able to get off in court. Which was why they needed to build a stronger case against him.

Jeon continued persisting with the questions, receiving an emotionless "no comment" every time. The lawyer looked rather relaxed, and Yuri tried her best to avoid looking at him. Instead, she focused on Jimin. Everything about him was unreadable - his eyes, his body language, his face, his tone of voice. Despite his more casual appearance this time around, his fingers were still adorned with multiple rings. Her eyes lingered briefly on his hands, absentmindedly counting the number of rings when something struck her.

Jeon had paused to look through his notes, and Yuri took this opportunity to dive in.

"Mr. Park," she began, placing a hand on Jeon's knee to stop him from interrupting her. "I noticed that you always wear a lot of rings on your fingers."

"As far as I can remember, DI Choi," said Jimin's lawyer. "Wearing a lot of rings is not a criminal offense."

"And I commend you on your immaculate memory," she replied, dryly. "Getting back to what I was saying, you wear a lot of rings. Are they supposed to be a fashion statement? Or do they have some greater significance?"

Jimin's expression flickered for the briefest of moments.

"For example," she continued, indicating the ring on the little finger of his left hand. "That's an unusual design - quite old-fashioned compared to the rest of your rings. Is there anything special about that ring?"

"I don't understand how this is relev-"

"Then why don't you let your client answer himself."

For the first time since the interview had begun, Jimin's posture changed slightly. "That ring belonged to my mother."

"I see... that must hold a lot of emotions for you." Yuri removed her hand from Jeon's thigh, indicating that he could continue. He didn't say anything to her, preferring to hold eye-contact for a few meaningful seconds

"I'm going to ask you one last time," he said, taking over once again. "Where were you on the night of December 15th?"

"No comment."

...

"What was that about?" asked Jeon, once they were out of the interview room.

"What do you mean?"

"You know what I mean," he sighed in exasperation. "The ring, Choi."

"Just wanted to bring down his guard a bit," she shrugged.

He looked unconvinced, but dropped it seeing as they had more pressing things to deal with at the moment. Shaking his head, he went into Goh's room to update him on the outcome of the interview.

Making sure that the door to the Chief Inspector's room had been shut completely, Yuri switched on her laptop and pulled up every bit of information she had on Jimin. Even though she had gone over it less than 2 days ago, there were some things she needed to confirm. If what she thought was even remotely possible, they had been looking at things wrong the entire time.

"Hello? Telecoms Division? This DI Choi Yuri, badge number XXXX. I wanted to check whether this phone number is currently being used in Korea. Yes, I'll hold."

She tapped her fingers on the desk nervously, hoping she could get the information before Jeon came back. While it was true that he hadn't been openly hostile with her over the past 24 hours or so, she didn't want to risk pissing him off without something concrete.

"Yes, I'm still here," she breathed a sigh of relief when the person on the other end of the line took her off hold. "Really? Okay. And can you tell me if the number was being used overseas at any point in the past 2 months? I see... Would it be possible to send this to my official email? Great! Thank you very much for your help."

A couple of minutes later, Yuri's laptop pinged, indicating a new email. She read through everything carefully- once, twice, making sure she had gotten everything down accurately.

Fuck...

"Going somewhere?" Chief Inspector Goh walked out of his office to see Yuri putting on her coat and packing her bag.

"I- uh- yes."

"There's a lot of paperwork that has to be done, I'm afraid," he continued, checking messages on his phone. "You and Jeongguk will probably need to be here well past usual hours."

"Of course, sir." Yuri shrugged off her coat and sat down with a sigh.

6 pm

Seven hours. It had been seven hours since Yuri and Jeon had begun working their way through the piles of paperwork Goh had instructed them to finish.

"I'm hungry." Jeon stretched his arms above his head, yawning with his entire being. "Do you wanna get some takeout?"

"What?" Yuri looked up from the page she had been trying to read for the past fifteen minutes. Her eyes were glazing over with exhaustion.

"Food. Dinner. Sustenance."

"Y-yeah," Yuri blinked her eyes rapidly. "Sorry what were you saying?"

"You know what? Never mind. I'm just ordering a bunch of things- " He unlocked his phone and began typing away furiously. "Eat whatever you like from there."

Yuri gazed at him for a few moments, trying to reorient herself with the three dimensional world. She noticed that he was sitting on the swivel chair with his feet tucked beneath him - something oddly endearing which didn't really fit her image of him.

"I like dumplings," she said, more to herself than anyone else.

Jeon smirked but didn't say anything.

Half an hour later, a dozen or so takeout containers lay open in front of them - occupying more of Yuri's desk than Jeon's, much to her annoyance. He had rolled up the sleeves of his black shirt, slurping the hot noodles rather noisily.

Yuri threw him a quick glare and reached over to pick up a couple of fried chicken pieces.

"So why'd you ask Jimin about the ring?"

"I see you haven't forgotten about that," Yuri rolled her eyes, biting into the juicy meat.

"It was too specific to be a random thought," he shrugged. "So, are you gonna tell me or...?"

"I don't know if I can trust you, Jeon," she replied, simply.

"W-what?" he spluttered on the noodles, gulping some water to stop choking. "I'm your partner! Why can't you trust me?"

"I don't know..." Yuri tapped her chin thoughtfully. "Is it because you only glared at me on my first day? Or is it because you haven't greeted me civilly even once since I joined? Ooh, I know! Maybe its all of these combined with the fact that you've been an uncooperative bastard since I got here."

Jeon stared at her guiltily, his eyes widening considerably - giving him an expression akin to a deer caught in the headlights. "You're right. I apologize for that."

"Against my better judgment, I'll accept your apology. But you have Yoongi to thank for that."

Jeon smiled into his noodles at the mention of Yoongi.

"You also have Yoongi to thank for what I did yesterday," she continued, setting down the empty container. "I nicked your 2nd Nov case file and went through it."

"You what? When?!"

Yuri waved her hand dismissively. "Details. Unimportant. Yoongi suggested I should and I did. But that's not what I wanted to talk about."

"Anything else of mine you've nicked in the 5 days that you've been here?" grumbled Jeon, but there was no real bitterness in his tone.

Ignoring his comment, she pulled out her phone from the charging socket. "The reason I asked Jimin about his rings, is this -" she scrolled up to a particular picture and passed the phone over to him - "The ring found at the 2nd Nov crime scene is identical to the one Jimin wears on his left little finger."

"Are you sure...?" Jeon asked, raising an eyebrow uncertainly. "Even if it is, what's to say there aren't hundreds of other identical rings belonging to people across the country?"

"I did think that initially," Yuri took her phone back, and pulled up another image. "Which is why I asked Jimin about it during the interview. He said that it belonged to his mother. I'm sure you know this much better than I do but the late Mrs. Park came from a very old, distinguished family. That ring that Jimin was wearing is a family heirloom - from his mother's side. Here's an article that covered heirlooms of famous families in Korea, and it mentions the Park family."

Jeon took the phone from her, a frown forming on his face. The article was dated around 3 years ago.

"According to the article, there were three rings in total. One that belonged to Mrs. Park - which was buried with her after her death - and two others belonging to Jimin and his older brother Minhyuk. Not just that, there's a picture of Jimin and Minhyuk in the article, where they're both wearing the rings."

"Shit... You're right." Jeon pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling a headache coming on. "During the investigation, we just assumed that the ring belonged to the victim and had slipped off her finger during the struggle."

"Three rings," said Yuri. "One that has presumably been buried in a grave for over 10 years. One that was definitely on Jimin's finger today. And one that was found at the 2nd Nov crime scene."

"Minhyuk? You think he had something to do with it?" asked Jeon, sharply. "It was pretty clear that the drunk and homeless father of her child had stabbed her."

"Hear me out," she continued, opening her laptop this time. The food lay forgotten at this point. "I went through what we know about the victim - paints a pretty tragic picture. Although it wasn't always like that for her. She worked for a few years, saved up enough money before enrolling into a professional degree program at Busan National University."

"Yeah, so what?"

"Her time at Busan National University coincided with Park Minhyuk's Masters program."

"What?"

"Yeah, but," she continued, finding the university website. "She dropped out after less than a year because her father passed away, leaving behind a huge pile of debt. We know that her mother had passed away when she was about 10. Now if you look at her daughter's birth certificate, it would appear that she got pregnant while she was still enrolled at the university."

"Are you saying the baby was his?! There's a pretty big stretch from attended university at the same time to father of her child."

"Let me finish, would you?" she groaned, throwing her hands up in frustration.

"Fine, go ahead."

"In order to see if they were acquainted with one another, I resorted to the most informative source available - social media. Our victim didn't have much of a social media presence, but I scrolled through anything and everything Park Minhyuk has been tagged in. And guess what I found?"

Jeon stopped eating, and moved closer to the screen to see a picture of a few university students having a picnic together. It was dated January 2016, and two of the people in the picture were recognizable immediately.

"Holy shit! They did know each other! And quite well apparently." Jeon wheeled his chair forward, bumping into her chair in the process. "Shit, sorry."

Yuri rolled her eyes and moved out of his way. She had no desire to get slammed into again.

"Since I'm not part of the original investigation, I thought of checking whether Park Minhyuk was in the country around the time of the stabbing with a different excuse. I called the company, asking if he was available to chat about Jimin. They said he's abroad at the moment. Has been since October, apparently. But- " she rummaged through the papers on her desk before finding the post-it she had hurriedly scribbled on a few hours ago - "Telecoms did an analysis and found that his cell phone has been operating in Korea for a while now. So...?"

"Either someone else has gotten a hold of Park Minhyuk's cell phone," said Jeon, frowning thoughtfully. "Or the Parks are knee-deep in murder and perjury."

XXX

a/n: sorry there was such a huge delay between chapters. i was writing out some of the chapters beforehand so that there wouldn’t be too many plot inconsistencies.