#yknow the um. The fake happy thing

[opikiquu]

i just draw anything with these three at this point

[forwards-beckon-rebound]

batfam as fanfic tropes pt 1

ft. bruce, dick, and jason pt. 2

bruce

child’s teacher x single parent i mean that’s literally him. but also i like the idea of exploring his partner’s relationship with his kids

i want somebody to write like a bruce x whoever fic (whoever it is isn’t that important but i’m just saying i do think superbat is fun) with that trope

some college au where like all the kids have taken one of prof kent’s class and they all think he should be their dad

because they don’t want to leave their new dad

they’re hyping bruce up without him even knowing during their office hours

“like yknow prof kent, my dad has a dinosaur”

“oh…that’s certainly…interesting? i’m not sure what this has to do with intro to investigative journalism though”

“you could investigate the dinosaur! actually, we always have a big thanksgiving dinner and our butler, alfred, makes the best stuffing. why don’t you come over and check it out?”

“i’m not sure that’s appropriate of me as your professor. also i’m not sure a dinosaur would be a suitable—”

“you could get an exclusive interview with gotham’s richest and most eligible bachelor? um and we’ll throw in some wayne enterprises secrets too”

“…what was the address again?”

also i think he just gives me enemies to lovers vibes

maybe it has something to do with his canonical relationships

dick

meet cute i think he’s the only one who’s smooth enough to make this not awkward

like it is sort of awkward because this man flirts using puns but i feel like he’s charming enough to make it work

“hey girl are you a booger because i would pick you first” and then rolls nat20

fake dating

i feel like he would agree to it whether or not he actually liked the other person. honestly he might come up with the idea himself

he’s a naturally flirty guy and if he didn’t have a crush on the other person before he’s going to be so smooth with it

but then he spends time with them and he finds himself slower falling for them?

and like even if he ramps up the flirting, maybe tries to be more physical or spend more time with them, he’s not getting his message across and now he’s shooting himself in the foot for agreeing to this in the first place (and not realizing his own feelings and making a move before all of this happened)

but also maybe he’s just dense because he’s not picking up on the fact that they are doing a really bad job at hiding their feelings for him too

ALTERNATIVELY he goes into it already liking them

he thinks he’s going to be soooo smooth and charm them off their feet and then boom they’ll be dating for real

but for the first time in his life he’s stuttering and not knowing what to do and it’s really annoying how even when he’s like that, or maybe because he’s like that, he’s just as cute as he always is

he’s just a lover boy

jason

friends to lovers man seems like he needs to really trust somebody and have an emotional connection with them before pursuing a relationship

also this man canonically cannot flirt and cannot pick up on flirting so i don’t really think meet cutes are gonna work

i’m just imagining they’ve been friends for a while

it took him a really long time to open up. slowly, bit by bit, he reveals more of himself to his friend until he can honestly say they’re one of the people who knows him best

i think one of his biggest fears is not being good enough, like he’ll scare them away with all of his baggage and flaws. every time they have a late night conversation he lets his guard down a little and tests the water. he’ll give them a crumb and see how it goes. honestly, he’s terrified of their reaction but when things go well, he can’t help but want to give them more of himself

i think he’s always had bigger things in his life to worry about other than romance

is he a hopeless romantic? absolutely, if his bookshelf is anything to go by. but i think in some ways he has removed himself from that possibility a long time ago and maybe doesn’t see how he could be at all like the people in happy, loving, stable relationships that he reads about

it’ll take him a long time to realize his own emotions, much less act on them

and because of that, i think

idiots in love would also fit him very well. sorry i just think this guy is emotionally repressed and stupid and if the other person doesn’t figure shit out i don’t think he will either

i sure am roasting him a lot for someone who has a blog dedicated to him

but anyways, i feel like it would take a push for him to confess. whether that be a life threatening injury to either of them or maybe they’re getting too close to another person. i think he would need to come to terms with the fact that he could lose them and then decide that he would rather take the risk than never try

don’t think he’s making a move until he’s at least somewhat sure that the other person likes him back though

this is the best case scenario though. depending on what stage of his life he’s in when he meets somebody he likes, it could very well end up as a

right person wrong time i feel like he's also the most self-sabotaging out of all of them

like even if he met his soulmate, i think what he needs is therapy, not romance and would inevitably end up hurting himself and his partner when it turns out his own issues get in the way of his relationship

like he can't actually be fully vulnerable, not able to balance his work and personal life because what he's doing is so personal to him, not being able to settle down, that type of thing

guys i swear i want him to be happy

m.list | next >

[lil-elle]

They're taking over

RIIZE when you give them a Hickey

pairs: bf!riize x fem!reader

genre: fluff, suggestive, established relationship

word count: 1.2k

content: kissing and making out, marking

a/n: guys i love shotaro (and Anton a little)

Shotaro:

Sees it in the mirror, blushes and smiles, a small amused yet slightly embarrassed giggle escaping his throat

He'd go up and show you embarrassedly, wanting your help to cover it up and giggling when you blush and apologise

He'd only get you to cover it up if he was going out or had work, otherwise he'd leave it, blushing and smiling whenever he caught a glimpse of it in a reflective surface

He'd just love it so much, sees it as proof of how much you love him

Would never push you to give him more, but would always be happy whenever he finds one on him after a makeout session

-

Eunseok:

His eyes would go wide upon seeing it, rubbing it with his fingers thinking it's a stain of some kind and beginning to blush when it doesn't come off and he processes what it is

He'd be surprised at the way his stomach turns at the sight, very obviously happy (and maybe a little turned on) by it

He'd go up to you and wait for you to notice it, once you do, he'd find amusement in the way your face goes red in embarrassment

He'd lean over, putting his lips up to your ear and whispering “I wouldn't be mad if you gave me these more often…” his tone deep and suggestive, leaving you dazed

The idea of giving you one too the next time you're making out would pop into his head and he wouldn't hesitate to press his lips to your neck

-

Sungchan:

Would go wide eyed at first and then just smirk, not too shocked as he knew it'd happen eventually but also strangely happy and proud of you for doing something so bold to him

Wouldn't even try to cover it up, doesn't see it as too much of a big deal but loves the way you blush and stutter when you notice it's there, apologising quietly

The type to be like “what about it?” if someone pointed it out, nonchalant on the outside and cocky on the inside

Would want to give some to you when you next make out but he'd always ask first, just in case (but once you said yes he'd probably get carried away and leave too many)

“I marked you, now I want you to mark me too” it's so much better for him if you both have them, but he also might not let you cover yours up so be careful 🤕

-

Wonbin:

He'd just stand there staring at it for a moment as his neck, ears, and cheeks began going red unknowingly

You'd come up behind him, first noticing his red face and getting ready to question/tease him until you notice why he's so red, going red yourself

He'd just be a series of “uhh"s and “um"s. I really don't think he'd know what to say, just mindlessly rubbing his fingers over it as he looks at you, his eyes travelling down to your neck unconsciously (yknow exactly what he's thinking about)

You'd cover it for him, apologising. Eventually he'd get out a “...You don't have to apologise…I kind of like it…” making you even more red but also giving you the determination to give him more next time

He wouldn't hesitate to immediately go for your neck the next time you're kissing a little too passionately. Seems you've accidentally awoken something in him

-

Seunghan:

He'd immediately smirk and chuckle, intrigued by your boldness to leave such a thing on him (but he's also definitely very turned on by it)

He'd sneak up to you, a big smile on his face, and point to it, loving how flustered you get and how you stutter to make an excuse/apology

Would fake scold you/tease you saying “why would you do something like this, I have work” but then he'd lean in, looking into your eyes and saying “I'll definitely need to get payback” in a super soft and lustful tone

And payback he will get, leaving your neck all purple and bruised the next time he gets the chance, smiling down at his work once he's done

Secretly he wouldn't want you to cover them up, loving the idea of you out and about, neck marked up so people know you're taken and stay away, but he'd never say that directly to you

-

Sohee:

Would blush super hard but also be really excited, smiling despite being embarrassed. He'd turn into a school girl basically, jumping around and giggling

It's something that'd reassure him that things were getting ‘serious’, that it wasn't just a small thing and you felt just as strongly about him as he felt about you

He wouldn't want to cover it just because he'd want to flex to the members even if they'd just tell him to stfu. He'd never flex with you around though, suddenly it becomes embarrassing to him if you're there (then the guys would tease him, saying he ‘switched up’)

The next time you make out, you'd definitely catch him unconsciously putting his hand on your head and pushing it down towards his neck, telling you without words that he wants you to give him more

He also wouldn't hesitate to give you some back, most likely getting carried away. You'd have to tell him to stop because otherwise his lips would always be on your neck and he'd never move on

-

Anton:

He wouldn't even be able to speak, locking himself in the bathroom as his hands roam that vanity looking for something to cover it with like your make-up. He'd be so so beet red, heart beating like crazy

He'd eventually have to leave the bathroom when he can't find your make-up, awkwardly walking up to you with his head down and just pointing weakly at the mark, still unable to speak

You'd just sit him down and cover it for him, embarrassed yourself but not as much as him. You'd actually be surprised at how harshly he's reacting, thinking he's upset with you. You'd end up looking guilty and forcing him to admit that he actually likes it

While you two are kissing, his mind would be picturing you giving him another hickey, lowkey wishing to see you move your head to his neck so he could feel your lips there again (although he'd rather die than say it out loud)

You'd be lucky to get him to give you one, he'd have to be really into it to even consider it, and once he does, he's really clumsy. He'd also end up going insane after seeing you with a mark he made on you, just so flustered and embarrassed

(BONUS: the members would tease him so bad for having a hickey, that's why he'd always want to cover them up. He knows that if they saw them, they'd instantly be all over him, asking tmi questions to make him embarrassed and jokingly calling him a player)

-

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

TAGLIST:

@hyunromi @chocoeon @hyunukitty @minjaezed @ihyeokzu @cake1box @chiiyuuvv

[feelo-fick]

WELCOME TO PHIO'S EXTREMELY SELF INDULGENT AU HOUR!!!

"Oh, FINALLY, another visitor! It's so quiet in here, it's unnerving..."

—

This AU was meant to be posted on halloween but eh.... Happy Thanksgiving? HAHAHHA

still dont have a name for it, but basically, back in october i was suddenly hit with the need to have a halloween au, so now we have ghost-ified prismo and vampire/witch-ified scarab :D ( although didnt finish the scarab reference spread in time because uh, school and i lost motivation unfortunately )

au synopsis and rambling below the cut!!

the premise of this au is simple : scarab is a real estate agent whos known for his manners ( never barges in, always waits to be invited! though it is a little weird how he keeps asking to be let inside even if they already agreed that he was going to come over... ) and efficiency at his job - that is, convincing people to buy high-end housing for a good price. although his social skills need some... work, his ability to persuade people isnt something to be laughed at.

unfortunately for him, persuading the higher-ups is a completely different story - which he learned the hard way after flunking something big for the company. they dont choose to fire him, no. instead, they put him through a trial, assigning him to sell their most unprofitable property : the mansion in a small town locally known for being haunted by an "evil spirit". if scarab manages to sell it (for good profit) within six months, he is excused and is able to go on with his job. if not... well, best not to think about it, yes? after all, he'll succeed with ease - all he has to do is dispel any worries about some fake "ghost" that only exists as a result of filthy rumors. maybe clean up the place. not too hard, right?

meanwhile, stuck inside said mansion is an extremely bored prismo. hes been hangin around this place for like... how many years now? forty? a hundred? meh, all the same, lately the place has been quieter than usual. i mean- of course people dont just walk into a creepy mansion every day, but there would usually be at least a few bold kids or vloggers coming in now and then for him to entertain but even then they wouldn't stay long ( for obvious reasons ). and now, just some unbound spirits or dumb animals would pass by and thats about it. a guy can only entertain himself for so long, yknow?

that is, until today. when some posh-looking business man entered the premises and started snooping around ( whats the deal with that, by the way?? ). must be prismo's lucky day!! this is the perfect chance to pull out all the stops and play the FUNNIEST prank ever! hah!

... oh. looks like things've gotten a little out of hand.

—

WOOT WOOT WOOTTTTTTTTTTT!!! im so so happy to finish this because ohhhhh my god this has taken ages for no reason other than the fact that ive been really dragging myself to make presentable art JSNDJSJXNSJX.... i realize that i have never worked in real estate ( or at all ) which means i have probably fucked something up but uhh um ill deal with the backlash later :"D im also realizing how many odd unanswered bits and bobs this au is going to have in the future, which... i am ignoring for the most part for now, but there are SOME things that i DO have figured out like ghost lore... but thats for another time, for now i leave you with this >:)

[angeltism]

OH YEAH YEAH DONT WORRY ABOUT THAT i have also been doing stuff for new years I UNDERSTAND!!!

YAHOO WE ARE MUTUALS FR FR!!! yeah im really comfortable with the way we are talking rn, theres still the fear that you May be disappointed with how much i have been faking my way of speaking just to not raise suspicion (i even changed the way i keysmash good lord) but idk! its really fun this way! the hopeless romantic that im displaying is still there im just showing it way more than i usually do SHAJHSJSHS you just gave me the perfect opportunity for that hehe YEAH YEAH im reaaaally enjoying getting to know each other better before actually. knowing who i am HEJSHSJSHS kinda makes me a bit less anxious about revealing myself honestly. gotta build up that familiarity before anything else yknow, specially considering how anxious i used to feel about the idea of directly talking to you, i just always end up seeing others as. unreachable? that if i say something in their askbox they wont like me? so having anon on while talking to you has helped. a lot. unfortunately makes things a bit more complicated but its still soooo fun hehe ALSO awesome joke you got there. happy new yuri brought to you by valentin and loveletter anon! (we are barely even girls)

- 💌 anon

aah I'm so happy uu feel comfortable,, I know a lot of beings ?? seem to think I'm scary . which . thank uu but also I promise I'm silly just like the rest of uu . heart hands . and aughh I get it sometimes when I go on anon w others I change my typing style a ton . like obv no "nawt" "purrfect" "purrobably" etc bc that's a dead giveaway that tis me !!!! the fool !!!! but also like . in general other stuff too .

n honestly as long as uu aren't outright changing uurself into an 100% different being like . I don't think I'll be disappointed or anything . in the end there's a sweet romantic being behind these asks even if uur typing style is different n that's what matters !! <3 <3

and yeahh I get that . . . I used to be suuuper socially anxious around my nyeow adored mewtuals n barely able to send an ask . . . tbf I still barely send asks I just . if I want to , I can without like . dying as much as I used to lol .

but um yeah I don't mind uu being on anon fufufu,, like it's fun and we're getting to know eachother and if uur more comfortable this way I don't mind staying this way for a while y'know .

and YESSSS ty somebun who recognizes my comedic genius ehehehe . happy new yuri from both of us teehee !! 🫶

[chocoenvy]

nah cause trying to kill each other the entire night without alerting everyone else, especially the Harbingers............

almost being caught but the Tsaritsa covers for you and they just shrug and assume your one of them. but she only covers you bc you've piqued her interest, and if anyone is going to kill you it's going to be her.

still doesn't stop some nosy nobles from trying to knock you down a peg. it's kinda hard to miss the Tsaritsa, masquerade or not, and it's harder to miss the leech clinging to her arm the entire time.

their trying to get on her 'good' side but you keep bullying them and making the Tsaritsa laugh and it's not fair >:(

meanwhile your having the time of your life thoroughly ruining every stuck up noble that pops into view and getting away with it bc the Tsaritsa thinks it's funny watching them fume and not be able to do a damn thing, bc your obviously in good favor with her..while completely oblivious to the fact you've both tried to kill each other five times during the entire conversation.

but also maybe an agent gets a lil too suspicious so when you slip out to the balcony they take their chance. except the moment they put their hands on you, their tossed clear across the balcony and through the railing.

the Tsaritsa's expression has been mostly subdued the entire time but she looks pissed. like full on snarl with her big ol teef....yknow :)

which. okay like that was hot but did you just kill your own agent.........

meanwhile the Harbingers are just ????????? excuse me

she does not acknowledge it. just drags you back inside and doesn't let you leave her sight for 0.2 seconds. she also doesn't acknowledge that she feels disappointed when you disappear after the masquerade is over.

it'd be a shame if you showed up again afterwards... 👁👁

THIS GOT TOO LONG UM. anyway pretty tall evil women am i right :) - eros

HASHDFLASDFJSADFSADFASF OSAGHASLFJSLCMSALGHALFSDJCSAASDKFJA EROSSSS OH MY GOODFSADFSDF YKNOW WHAT FUCK YOU EAT YOUR TSARITSA FOOD I HOPE YOU ENJOY IT

QUEEN

Tsaritsa x reader

4.5k words

notes: FUCK this got long i really cannot help myself when it comes to the tsaritsa. i twisted the brainrot a lot idk how it happened don't ask

warnings: violence, blood, slight gore, not sagau, reader wants to murder the Tsaritsa and is not ashamed

The mask clung onto your skin, as well as your fake smile. You kept your steps steady and balanced, despite the weight on your thighs and in your shoes.

Tonight was the night the Tsaritsa would die.

You were silent, eerily so in the loud ballroom. The clacking of shoes and cacophony of voices making it impossible to hear the little noise you were making.

You grabbed a stranger's hand, held onto a random drink, twirled around with them for a moment and moved on. You were floating in the ballroom, every step firm and quiet, every breath even and soft.

It was little things, but they made all the difference when you were less than six feet away from her eminence. When even she didn't catch your form approaching. Her back was not exposed the whole night, but in their happy stupor the harbingers had lured her away from her illustrious throne.

You approached her back, your eyes cast aside somewhere else, your head turned to stare at one of the grand decoration. Your shoes - stuffy and filled with emergency explosives - caught onto the train of Her Majesty's dress and you fell right onto her, your glass dropping out of your hands and shattering on the floor.

She, in all her glory, didn't even stumble. Her veil covered her expression but you saw her head turn.

The noise that so effectively covered any noise was gone. The ballroom was deathly quiet.

As soon as your eyes made contact with her veil you started to wail. Tears leaking out of your eyes before anyone could even blink. You bowed lowly, sputtering apologies, and cradling your hand that was now sputtering out blood.

Your shoes slipped on the liquid on the floor pathetically, and you're not sure what possessed the Tsaritsa, but she grabbed you by your upper arms and helped you regain your bearrings.

The glare of the harbingers was so fucking satisfying but you kept up your frightened façade, your body shaking uncontrollably.

Remember why you're here. The memories resurfaced and it wasn't hard to pretend anymore. The tears from those nights resurfaced and you sobbed uncontrollably just like the kid you used to be.

Her hands on you felt dirty, even through her gloves. She didn't remove her hands from you, instead grabbing your injured hand. There wasn't an ounce of care in her touch, even through the gloves you could feel the biting cold of her fingers.

You sniffled as she walked away from you. And then your jaw dropped as looked back at you.

You stumbled to catch up, an embarrasingly pathetic display.

This was not part of any of your plans. You had hundreds, preparing for this day for years and daydreaming about it for even longer.

But in none of them had you ever entertained the thought of the Tsaritsa willingly leading you into a room alone.

None of the harbingers followed, even though they stared at you like the invader you are, they didn't do anything to stop the Tsaritsa.

Not to mention how frankly stupid this was. You knew your helpless display was supposed to have an effect similar to this, but the Tsaritsa isn't stupid. The bounty on her head is more money than anyone could even dream of, and the emotional satisfaction you'd get from her blood all over the ballroom floor was greater than monetary value. It was enough for you to willingly put your head on the line. She was accustomed to assassins and idiots like you, so why was she acting like this?

You bumped into her, a flurry of apologies spilling out of your mouth.

She held her hand up and you shut your mouth. She opened up the door in front of you two and motioned for you to enter.

You sucked in an apprehensive breath, There's no denying the Tsaritsa, and you stepped straight into your doom.

The room was small compared to the ballroom, but the ceiling was tall as well as the doorway to accommodate their queen. You didn't get much time to inspect it as said ruler ordered you to sit on a nearby seat. You did so with no complaints and the Tsaritsa kneeled in front of you. Your jaw dropped, eyes bulging out of your sockets as she grabbed your hand without warning.

It was still bleeding profusely, and with all the adrenaline from being in the Tsaritsa's presence you didn't even notice the glass shards still stuck in your skin.

The Tsaritsa used her teeth - correction: fangs - to tug off her glove. Her hand was large and slender, her nails nearly claws.

Your heart dropped to your stomach, thudding loudly throughout your system. A shiver crawled up your spine at the sight of her fangs, your hand that she was holding onto locked up. You unconsciously attempted to pull away but her grip increased causing a low whine to itch at the back of your throat.

She used her nails to get the glass out, and once she was done she ran her finger over your palm.

You yelped, "Cold!"

You swore you heard the breath of a laugh escape her, but she didn't acknowledge it and you chose not to as well.

Meanwhile the skin on your hand sealed up cleanly, leaving nothing but smeared blood on your palm.

That's when your sensed kicked back into gear. This is chess, and the key to winning was right in front of you.

You leaned down, faking a pained expression, "S-sorry this getup is really stuffy..." She didn't move, her hand remaining on your once injured one until it was fully healed.

When you felt her grip loosen you held on tighter, grabbing her wrist and pulling you towards her.

Your finger tugged on the trigger to activate the explosive but her gloved hand grabbed your arm and nearly tore it clean off.

You brought your leg up to kick her square in the jaw. She dodged with ease, her non-gloved hand grabbed the back of your neck and flung you across the room. Your back slammed against the wall and you let yourself go limp.

Her heels clacked against the floor, like a clock counting the seconds to your last breath. She stopped in front of you, you kept your head tilted forward, allowing a few more tears to fall from your eyes.

She kneeled down and tugged your hair back, forcing your enraged eyes to meet hers.

You plunged your knife into her neck, but she moved a bit out of the way. Still, blood poured out of her neck.

Golden blood.

She grinned her fingers coming up to feel the liquid, smearing it on her hand.

Her fangs flashed, they were deadly sharp.

KILL THE QUEEN!

You charged head first in again, your knife ready to plunge into her neck once more. She hit the floor with a thud, her body lax and not struggling, an almost dreamy smile on her lips, her veil had fallen above her head revealing her eyes...

Your entire body froze. Not in fear nor from the cold, no the adrenaline running through your veins was enough to drive the blade straight through her neck.

So why weren't you?

Your orbs, wide and wild, stared directly into her calm and piercing ones. They were a light blue... sort of. They were more like opal gemstones, reflecting every color in the cold ice that has frozen them over. There were so many colors deep within her orbs, you're sure you could study them for a century and still not have them memorized.

"I haven't seen my own blood in a long time, much less in a golden hue." The Tsaritsa was relaxed, even with the blade right above her throat, her eyes were hypnotizing.

She placed her pointer finger - ungloved - on the tip of the blade and pushed it away.

Your body didn't struggle, but you could feel your face twisting in anger and frustration. She sat up, slowly, leering down at you. She took the veil completely off and set it aside.

"You do know what's happening to you, right?" She grabbed the blade from your hands with no struggle.

You growled, "You..."

She grinned, for someone so expressionless during the party, the way her lips curled made your blood curdle.

She put her clawed pointer finger on your nose, "My eyes hold the power of love, and that is to make whoever looks at them to do whatever I please." Her smile was damning, burning itself into your brain as another reminder of this damn woman, "So, in short, you never stood a chance."

"You fucking-" Your tongue went numb, and if looks could kill you'd be walking away from the palace with enough money to buy another Zapolyarny palace.

"Such awful language, not even going to beg for mercy?" She pouted, but her eyes - despite the complexity - remained perfectly protected behind ice. Nothing slipped past her secure barricades.

You regained feeling in your tongue, "I'd rather die." You spat.

She hummed, "Well, too bad I find that utterly boring. Stand up." She commanded and your body obeyed without another thought. She stood up after you, her looking down at you was a million times worse with her veil off, "You wanted to kill me, I'll give you until the end of the night to succeed."

"Wait- I don't agree to th-!"

"You're in no place to be asking for things." She put her large hand on your head, forcing your head to tilt up to look at her eyes, "If you refuse to kill me all bets are off. I'll give you to my harbingers to handle, and trust me they're not as merciful as me." Her grin was hollow.

You glared, "Fuck you."

"There'll be no room for that out no the dancefloor. Now," She swiped a hand over her wound and all traces of what you'd done were gone. She grabbed your hand, "Let's go."

*~

You didn't have a choice in the matter. The Tsaritsa had fixed herself and you up, and led you back to the ballroom.

The stares you got were invigorating, all pairs of eyes on the imposing aura of the Tsaritsa and then traveling to you. They were confused as to why you were hanging off of her arm.

Honestly you didn't know yourself but you weren't passing up this opportunity to tear apart the Zapolyarny palace from the inside. Not like you could leave but might as well pretend you had some autonomy in this situation.

Though it didn't take long to be thoroughly sick of the night. You were already disoriented from your first assassination attempt, and once the nobles started approaching the Tsaritsa and talking to her you felt your insides turn.

"Your glory precedes you and your wonderful deeds are ones that have been spread throughout the land thanks to my help." They'd say shit like that, and it pissed you off.

At least the Tsaritsa wasn't pretending she wasn't a piece of shit, but these guys were making her seem like a saint. She. Isn't.

"Your eminence, I must commend you on your conquest of the other archons and rebellious individuals in Snezhnaya. Organizations like that will merely tear down all of your hard work."

"Yeah mass genocide is tiring." You said, melting further the Tsaritsa's side so if the noble made a move you could use her as a shield, "Rebellions are so awful too not like that's how Mondstadt liberated themselves from an oppressive ruler. Oh, but it's bad when it happens here."

"You-" Their eyes darted from you to the Tsaritsa back and forth over and over, "You dare sully the Tsaritsa's good name and Snezhnaya? In front of her and in the Zapolyarny palace no less?" He screamed, catching quite a few more eyes.

You suppose this is what going out with a bang meant.

You grinned, "Yes."

"Why you-!" He reached for you, red in the face from rage and the embarrassment.

It wasn't a second later his hand was cut clean off. The Tsaritsa remained mostly motionless, save for the blood on the hand that wasn't occupied with you.

A scream ripped from his throat, and yet the only reaction was one of the harbingers dragging him off.

"What the fuck..." You whispered.

"Are you alright? He didn't touch you right?" There was a mocking lilt in her voice.

You huffed, glaring up at her, "No."

Another attendant had given her cloth she could wash her hand with.

"Good." She pat your head once her hand was clean.

The lingering stench of blood didn't bother you.

Oddly enough there were still nobles willing to approach the Tsaritsa, even with you blabbering away at her side.

You already tried to assassinate her, she could kill you at any time with little more than a "they were annoying" to write off your death. You might as well cause a little ruckus while you were here. This might be your last night.

"Your holiness," An entrepreneur bowed, his expensive outfit making all sorts of noise as he moved, "Thanks to your help of eradicating those annoying vermin, our operations can go smoothly. The production of precious gemstone jewelry is booming, and we don't have to travel all the way to Liyue as much anymore."

It was a way to brag and advertise his business and his supposed "connection" to the Tsaritsa by loudly exclaiming all of this. You could already see the jealous gazes (that had also been fixed on you) sweeping over to this guy.

Your gaze darkened, "Eradicating vermin that were doing more good than you are right now?"

The guy jumped, clearly not expecting you to actually talk.

He glared, "What is that supposed to mean? Surely you're not defending those wastes of spaces?"

"And who are you to decide who's a waste of space or not?" You matched his glare, "If it were up to me everyone in here is stealing precious oxygen, but I'm not pretentious enough to actually think that."

He huffed, glancing up at the Tsaritsa, expecting her to shut your foul mouth. But instead there was an amused smile on her lips.

The man pursed his lips, clearly annoyed but not willing to step on the Tsaritsa's toes, "Then I hope you enjoy it in the Zapolyarny palace, where everyone thinks the same of you."

That's if I survive past tonight. You didn't say it aloud, and the man walked away in a fuss.

"You're quite amusing." The Tsaritsa chuckled, her baritone voice and quite tone making her hard to hear with the bustling crowd and music, "I haven't seen this much action at a party since Tartaglia was first announced a harbinger."

You hummed, not really caring.

The Tsaritsa muttered, "Everyone is expecting you to ask me to dance."

"What!" You exclaimed a bit too loudly, a few eyes flickering over to your masked face before turning away.

Her smile widened, "You've been the only one brave enough to talk so brazenly right in front of me, they're wondering if we're going to dance."

"..." You furrowed your brows, "Are you trying to get me to ask you to dance?"

She grinned, "I don't know, are you going to ask me?"

You glared up at her, and you couldn't see her eyes through her veil. You felt cursed to know what secret was under her veil.

You huffed, standing in front of her. With a damn near wicked grin, you bowed and held your hand out, "Would you like to dance with me?"

You gave her no honorifics, an evil smile, and a knife ready in your sleeve.

She took your hand, despite seeing all the red flags, and walked straight into the fire pit with you.

Although when you're the goddess of ice, you suppose fire can't hurt you much anyways.

The Tsaritsa realized all too quickly that you weren't the best at dancing. She giggled while offering you to step on her shoes.

You declined at first, for your pride... but you quickly realized that constantly tripping was a lot more embarrassing than stepping on her toes.

So, begrudgingly, you did so.

She led the dance gracefully, and everyone made room for the two of you.

It was the perfect crime scene. It'd be beautiful and bloody.

Your hand placed on her waist was perfect, the knife slipped from your sleeve and-

She grabbed your wrist in a death grip, but you didn't let go of the weapon.

She grinned and slid it back into your sleeve with her finger, "You're going to have to try harder than that."

You huffed, her claws had left tiny cuts on your wrist, just barely pouring out a few droplets of blood.

Tripping the Tsaritsa was also a fruitless endeavor. You had tried and only ended up almost falling yourself, though she had framed it as intentional as she had caught you.

You were sweating from all the dancing, as well as the multiple attempts of seeing more of her ichor. To see those eyes with no power behind them.

The Tsaritsa giggled at your face, letting go of your hand to touch your forehead. The flicker of coolness from her glove was a relief, though it wasn't much.

"Should we go to the balcony to cool you down?" She teased, the emotion in her tone made you sneer uncomfortably.

"...sure..." You muttered, keeping your eyes trained suspiciously on her.

She slowed to a stop, "Well you'll have to get off my feet first," She chuckled.

You blinked and stepped off, though she didn't release your hand. Instead she led you to the balcony, her dress billowing behind her elegantly.

You grit your teeth at how pristine she looked. You'd given your whole life away to see her dead, and here you were, right next to her. Both of you still breathing.

The door shut behind the both of you, leaving the two of you completely isolated. The cold air on the balcony was refreshing, less so with the Tsaritsa's large hand holding onto your own but it wasn't like you could just shake her off.

No, you came here to kill the queen. And you'd do it no matter what, even if it ended with you gone too. You'd be at peace.

But there was no peace in the blizzard, and you were a prisoner of the Snezhnayan snow.

The Tsaritsa stood behind you, the hairs on the back of your neck stood up as you turned to look at her. Before you could crane your neck up to look at her, she placed her bare hand on your forehead.

"You're cooling down."

You shivered, "That's because you're freezing."

She placed her other gloved hand on your neck, there wasn't any murderous intent behind it - more of a warning.

"It doesn't seem the cold bothers you much, if you were willing to come here and try to kill the Tsaritsa herself." Her fingers slightly increased their grip.

Your heart rate spiked uncomfortably, "It was out of necessity."

"It was necessary for you to kill me, hm?" You could hear the smile in her voice.

Your fists clenched. "Yes."

She hummed, amused, "I've heard that many times, sometimes when you're told something over and over again you start to believe it."

"So will you roll over and let me kill you?"

She tilted your head back, grinning down at you. Just barely you could see a twinkle of her eyes, "I'm afraid I'm not there yet. Though if you were to beg me I might think about it."

You paused.

She laughed out loud, genuine and surprised, "You're not actually considering it are you?"

"I did say it was necessary for me to kill you." You shrugged, "Any means necessary. Plus you'd be the only one to see and you'd be dead."

She hummed, "You're determined, I'll give you that. Maybe a bit too much for such a pretty face."

You narrowed your eyes, "Your flattery is meaningless to me."

"I'm aware, but it's not meaningless to me." Her smile softened.

You grimaced, "What is that supposed to mean?"

She moved some hair out of your face. She answered with an enigmatic smile, and leaned into your ear.

"I know why you want me dead," She whispered, you could feel her smile against the shell of your ear.

"You..." Your words fell flat as did all reasoning in your head.

She pulled back, and you could see her beautiful eyes from under her veil.

Anger pooled through your veins, melting your veins frozen over from the cold.

You turned quickly, tugging on whatever you could grab on her and shoving your knife directly in front of you.

There was no strategy, no rhyme or reason. This was the worst plan you had and that was to recklessly stab at her, with tears streaming down your face.

Sadly, she had covered the knife with her hand, but it had still gone through her hand and golden ichor was leaking out the sides.

She grabbed your hair with her unoccupied hand, tugging at it painfully. You didn't let go of the knife until the pain grew too powerful. With both of your hands now free, you grabbed the front of her shirt and tugged her towards you. With that you grabbed her neck and used the vision you had desperately ignored for the first time in years.

She choked, the ice crawling across her body.

The both of you lost your balance, falling onto the floor with the Tsaritsa on top of you.

She held herself up with one hand, the other still had your knife through it.

You reached your foot up and tried to kick her away, but it didn't phase her a bit. You used your hands to punch her and scratch her until there was golden streaks across her shoulders and cryo flecks all across her body, turning her skin black.

Tears were still streaming down your face. She wasn't fighting back. You were hopeless.

You sniffled pathetically, but still gave it your all.

"Using my own element against me? You're quite bold."

"Y-you need to die." You gritted out, "Why don't you get it, why won't you kill me? I want you dead!" You screeched.

There was a smile on her face, almost ethereal. You could see her eyes, you were staring directly at them. They were so pretty. They'd look even prettier without any life in them.

"I hate you," You sneered, "I hate you, I hate you."

She grinned, "Good."

However her grin was wiped right off her face all too soon as you felt a pinch in your neck.

You blacked out before you could see the carnage.

*~

You woke up feeling like you had just slept for a decade. Your entire body felt like it was made of lead and you just wanted to go back to sleep.

Then you felt your bed moving.

You gasped, bolting up. You groaned grabbing your head and a sore spot on your neck where you had probably slept funny.

You heard a groan from below you, you looked down to see the Tsaritsa.

"What the fuck!" You screeched, practically falling off the bed with a bang.

The Tsaritsa leaned over the side of the oversized bed hastily, "Are you okay?"

You sat up, "What happened?" You glared up at the Tsaritsa and she calmed down a bit.

"Good to know you're alright and still glaring." She put her clawed pointer finger in between your eyebrows, "Calm down, you're going to get wrinkles."

"Tell me what happened." You gritted your teeth.

"You tried to kill me multiple times, one of my attendants saw and heard, they darted you. It wasn't lethal but it had you out cold for days." She said. She wasn't wearing her veil so her eyes were on full display. They were wide and guarded, "Needless to say, you won't be seeing him ever again."

"What? Why?" You slowly stood up and the Tsaritsa helped you (while you grimaced).

"They tried to hurt you." She said simply.

You laughed in disbelief, "And I tried to kill you. Their actions were justified."

"Like I said, I know why you want me dead." She ran her fingers through your hair delicately, and you sneered at the touch, "And you're too interesting to be dead. If I had wanted you dead you'd have been gone as soon as I saw you enter the Zapolyarny Palace."

"..." You stared into space silently, until finally a dreaded question crawled its way out of your throat. You attempted to push it down to no avail until finally you were spewing out your thoughts, "Why did I live?"

She was silent for a few moments. She sighed, "Because you were too much like me. I've seen so many hopeless faces, you were hopeless and alone. Everyone you knew was dead, and yet you still didn't run. You wanted to survive. You wanted me dead." She laughed, "That's how you got that vision right there isn't it?" Your eyes snapped over to your vision on the side table, "Your ambition to live another day and to kill me. That thing is the reason you got away, and it's the reason I didn't follow you. Because if I had died in the snow alone all those years ago..." She didn't finish her thought. She grabbed the vision and tossed it over to you.

You caught it and frowned down at it.

"You hate that thing don't you?"

"With all of my being."

She chuckled, "I didn't expect anything else. Well, I'm not the one who decides who gets the vision of cryo. That is all you shall know about that. So you can stop cursing my name and start cursing the cruel hands of Celestia."

"Celestia..." Your eyes drifted over to hers, "You're starting a war with the stars aren't you?"

She snickered, "They're getting what's coming to them. You feel the same way about me as I do with Celestia. Sadly I can't let you kill me until my business with them is finished. Then maybe I'll let you get a few more stabs in."

You snorted, mildly amused, "Thanks I guess. Wait, is this a plot to recruit me to your Fatui organization? Gotta take down Celestia before I can get to you?"

"I mean, I'd quite enjoy your company but I won't force you to join the Fatui." Her hands delicately came up under your chin, "Having you around is enough."

You sneered, "You're a real charmer."

"I like to think I'm efficient, especially as the goddess of 'love'."

You hummed, "It's a deal then. I'll stick around until the fall of Celestia and then I'll be the murderer of the Tsaritsa."

She grinned, fangs poking out of her lips. She leaned in menacingly, "Deal. Just make sure you don't die in the Zapolyarny Palace. You're mine to kill just as I am yours."

"That sounds too romantic." You deadpanned.

She grinned, "Well I am the supposed goddess of love."

[a-non-ymouswriter]

Hey anon! Um first of, I'd like to thank you for being the reason I'm on Tumblr, it's been a blessing(-and a curse) to be here!

Getting on the thing that I wanted to mention, on chapter; "L'manburg's final death" of Rewind, Theo is a shortened version of Theodore (I spent quite some time on finding which chapter this was mentioned actually,) and I'm quite intrigued by this to the point where I really can't stop thinking about it. Why is no one mentioning this more?? Is this on purpose? Does this have a purpose? Theodore??

Yeah, I've been wondering about that. Even before you made Remix. Why Theodore? Does it have a sentimental value? Is it to honour someone? dishonor? To memorialize someone? From a friend/aquiantance/someone he met? This strikes me as strange, and I think that makes me wanting for more. For answers. For the plot. For the story.

I love how you portray confrontations, reveals, emotions. For example, the confrontation- well, the 1st meeting of Theo and past Phil and Techno. You go and describe it to us as them being greeted by someone who they don't recognize. That it seems so impossible that this could be their brother/son because of how different he's become. It's as if you- you painted that scene so vividly that I can feel their dread spill from these mere sentences, phrases, and paragraphs from my small, bright, phone screen.

And also the confrontation of Toby and Theo when the former killed George? Wow, mind-blown. You characterized their emotions so perfectly by the use of Bold, Italics, and Caps Lock. I can hear them scream, cry, yell, their pain as they continue to fight and argue. I love it. It hurts so bad yet I love it.

I have so many more that I really wish to write in this message but, it's getting a bit too long ey? Ahaha sorry bout' that. But not really, you deserve to know that your works are what really make up my day, my thoughts, my daydreams, and my life. I adore these. And I do adore you for being the person that's the reason why these masterpieces exist. I look forward for each update, thank you very much A-Non!!!

i'm sorry for not answering this immediately, i just- i keep rereading this ask and it's- i'm really really happy :D

long asks and comments fill me with so much joy

and i also have bad habits when it comes to answering inboxes shhh

quite honestly, theodore was just a fake name that i wanted theo to 'go to' as the reason why he chose theo. but the real reason will always be because techno called him 'theseus'. he doesn't want anyone to know about that, and though he could've chosen any other name, theo was still his choice. why? complicated emotions and wanting to maybe cling to something of his past. or use it as a weapon for his future. who knows, the man is an entangled mess of problems. they all are.

theo not being recognized by past techno and phil just made sense yknow? he's definitely like a different person, it fits, he's not tommy. not their tommy, not the tommy they know- but even then i'd say that they still wouldnt recognize parts of tommy innit bc the guys been through a war and war changes people. i'd go more on it but this is already a long post.

personally i'd say my type of writing is, flowery in a way? i need to put down emotions in ways that make sense for my readers or emphasize them, try and get through them. i sometimes worry that i do that too much, is the paragraph too long? does it describe more than it should? less than it should? did i overuse the italics, the bolds, BOTH? THE CAPITALIZATION??

i'm that type of writer. i'm just glad that everyone likes my works, be it rewind, remix, wishes or stream labs. even my shelved works of uh, vindictive, book covers and monsters.

i really do not mind long messages and asks, they're a delight! though sometimes i can't match them in length like this one but every single one is deeply cherished :D so dont apologize! it's great!

i'm very flattered and happy, i'll be working on the next update soon! tho it still is unclear on which story update i'll be working on... the brain does what the brain does yknow?

[eternally-writing]

still into you | kth

genre: angst and fluff

rating: PG 

pairing: Taehyung x reader

Theme: idol!au, ex-boyfriend!au, idol!reader , one-shot

word count: 2.0k

warnings: none

summary:  Seeing your ex-boyfriend, Taehyung, in the crowd as you perform brings an onslaught of emotions.

--♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡--

Feeling the lights of Seoul Olympic Stadium shine onto you, you couldn’t help but feel that you’d finally accomplished your dreams.

Winning a daesang, performing at the MAMA’s, what more could a girl ask for? Anyone would be lucky to have a fraction of the success that you have had and you definitely felt grateful. However, you couldn’t shake the sense of longing as you looked out into the crowd. Especially as you saw his face. 

Continuing to sing, you couldn’t help but reminiscence as you sang the lyrics you write about him. 

I should be over all the butterflies but I'm into you

You could still remember the way it felt to have his arms wrapped around you. The way he’d wake you up with forehead kisses and beg for you to stay in bed with him the whole day. The way he’d sing for you by the waterfront with the moon as the only witness to your love. 

And even baby our worst nights, I'm into you

Then you remembered the fights. The way he’d storm out of your apartment at 2am going to god knows where. The way he’d leave you broken and alone, sobbing on your kitchen floor. The way he’d make you cry for days on end. 

Let 'em wonder how we got this far, 'Cause I don't really need to wonder at all

The 3 years you spent with him seemed to pass by in an instant as you replay all your memories. The way you acted like a shy schoolgirl when you first met him. The way he used to surprise you with flowers and call you my “forever”. But then things changed. You don’t know how, or why. But the sweet texts started to dwindle, the arguments started to get bigger. Things got out of hand.

Yeah, after all this time I'm still into you

He was your first love. You don’t think you’ll ever forget him. You hope he’ll never forget you. 

You only hoped that all those emotions came across as you locked eyes with him in the crowd. The whole performance seemed like a blur as the memories flooded through your system, you almost couldn’t believe that it had flown by so fast. The cathartic experience of being able to belt those lyrics out not only to the world, but to him, made it feel like a weight had been lifted off your chest.

The song soon came to an end and you could hear the roaring crowd giving you a standing ovation on all sides. There was only one person’s reaction that you truly cared about though. 

Taehyung was right there at a table by the front of the stage, looking you in the eyes and clapping while a soft smile graced his face. You wondered if he was feeling all those memories that you felt too.

-♡-

As the hustle and bustle of the awards show died down, the adrenaline was still pumping through your veins as you were with your team preparing to go home. Whispering a quick message to your manager, you left to quickly run to the bathroom.

People usually fled from awards shows as fast as they could, so it was no surprise that the hallway was completely empty, the only sounds you could hear being the cheers of fans lingering outside the venue and some idols doing interviews.

Until you could also hear him. He came out of a room like a surprising gust of wind, blowing himself right into your path.

Coming face to face with him made your breath get caught in your chest. 

“Y/N,” he spoke softly, as if he was afraid his words would shatter you. 

“hi, taehyung”

You don’t know what you expected when you thought of meeting Taehyung here. You didn’t even know how he’d felt about you since you broke up. For all you know, he could hate you.

You and Taehyung made a point to only talk about pleasantries and regular things : the weather, JYP’s risque performance today (it made you both the tiniest bit uncomfortable), and the rest of the awards show. But soon, the small-take came to an end, and neither of you seemed willing to deal with the elephant in the room. Feeling the conversation come to a natural end, you didn’t know how or what to make of anything. Taking one last gaze at Taehyung, as if trying to keep a mental photo of him that you could treasure forever, you said what you thought would be your last words to him. 

“Goodbye, Taehyung.”

It was stupid really. There was another awards show next week and you’re sure that even if you used every bone in your body to try and keep yourself away from him, fate would probably find a way to make you meet. But with the performance today, the look you shared, something felt final. Something felt like goodbye.

Turning around, you continued on your route back to your dressing room. Not hearing Taehyung’s footsteps moving the other way, you couldn’t stop yourself from taking yourself 

What you didn’t know was that Taehyung’s internal monologue was begging him to say something to you. He had almost let you slip away without saying anything, but now that he had an opportunity since you had turned around again he couldn’t stop the words from pouring out of his mouth.

“I’m still into you,” he professed almost breathlessly, as if the confession took the wind out of him.

You froze in your place. There’s no way he said what he thought you did… right? You couldn’t stop your jaw from slightly dropping open.

“What did you just say?” you said, with an air of franticness but also hesitancy in your voice. 

“I’m the one that the song “still into you” is about, right?”

Right. That definitely made much more sense than what you thought he said.

“Uh, yeah” you said as you cleared your throat - “so I guess I should say thank you for the Billboard #1 or something,”  You tried to muster up a laugh to clear the awkwardness with the joke, but you don’t think it worked very well. 

Taehyung looked at you sheepishly. 

“I know how much of a dream that was for you, so I’m happy for you. You deserve it.” he professed, failing to hide his pride in your accomplishments. 

It was good to know that he still remembered all those little moments you all shared together. It was funny, there was a time where you and Taehyung were lying in bed, talking about your dreams and he said that he would walk all the way from Seoul to Busan to get a Billboard #1 for you. I guess in a way, he did help get you that #1. 

You felt a pang of longing as you looked at him across from you. Although you and Taehyung were physically the closest that you had been in months, you couldn’t help but feel farther than ever from him. 

Your phone dinging brought you back to the fact that you should be with your manager giving interviews right now. 

As you turned away from him, continuing back to your initial trek back to your dressing room, you heard him speak one more time. 

“Are you- “ 

He took an audibly deep breath.

“Are you still into me, Y/N?”

 It seemed like time stopped for the two of you. The sounds of the backstage had faded into nothingness and all you could hear was the sound of your pounding heart and Taehyung's laboured breaths. Taehyung truly was asking the million dollar question . You had imagined this scenario so many times, but you had not managed to prepare yourself for what this moment would feel like. 

Turning around, you began to speak. 

“Yknow Tae, I thought for the longest time that I was. It took me a really long time to think about this, to figure this all out. When we first broke up I didn’t even understand why it was happening. But now I see it all, I think.” 

You paused to collect yourself and look him deep in his eyes. 

“So no, Kim Taehyung, I’m not into you anymore. But thank you for everything you taught me, and I’ll cherish the memories we had together forever.” 

Taehyung nodded in understanding. You could see the gears turning in his head and you don’t blame him  - this whole interaction was a lot of process.

“I get it, I think. I don’t know what we both would be like if we were still together, but I’m so proud of the person that you’ve become and I’m really happy for both of us. I know things between us are different and will never be the same, but I’m always going to be your fan.” 

You couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face. No matter what happened between you and Taehyung, his opinion still meant the world to you. 

Grinning responsively, Taehyung continued. 

“This doesn’t have to end here yknow, with whatever we are. I get that we’re not meant to be Y/N, but I’d like for us to be friends if that’s possible.”  spoke Taehyung meekly, feeling shy at the admission of his request.

What Taehyung was asking for was a lot. Welcoming him back into your life seemed like a very scary situation. You didn’t know what to expect. The whole time Taehyung and you were dating, he felt like your best friend, but you’d never actually been just best friends with him. Was that even possible? Before making any choices, you left Taehyung carry on.

“Plus, the boys miss your tuna kimbap. I’ve tried copying your recipe but they yell at me for messing this up every time.” 

You feigned a look of shock. 

“I see your ulterior motives right now, Tae. This was all about kimbap?” you accused with a fake look of judgement.

For a second there you saw Taehyung’s face tighten up with shock and anxiety.

“No I-. Like-, Um, I just-”

“Tae, I’m joking with you. Chill out”

Taeyhung’s melodic laughter (which you desperately missed) rang through the hallway. It felt good for both of you to be joking around like this, and you almost swore the room got brighter as the tension between you two cleared. 

Giving your manager a quick text to tell her you weren’t doing any more interviews tonight, you had snuck away in Taehyung’s car to drive the boys’ dorm, making a quick stop for groceries on the way. 

The cheers that you heard as the boys saw you walk through that joy made your heart swell with joy. No matter what happened with you and Taehyung romantically, you knew that these seven boys were like a family to you. And families fight, families argue, and families disagree, but above all, families are always there for each other. And watching all the boys’ faces stuffed with your tuna kimbap, laughter and conversation freely flowing across the table, there was no place you’d rather be.

--♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡--

If you liked what you read, please interact/follow! Thank you for reading♡

- Emily

[funny-house]

What's Mirror Man's and Wine Mom's relationship like?

hehehe oh um hoo boyyy....... ok lmao, every time someone asks me about these two we enter the No Fun zone, ok it’s time for bleak and miserable realism

Ok, so I don’t know how many of my rambles you’ve read before, but just to get it out of the way super quick, I do absolutely thoroughly believe the short is conveying that Mirror Man has been violent towards his wife in the past.

I’ve written  A L L   of my arguments for this little detail on this post TW for abuse, ofc, ‘cause it’s pretty sad once you pick up on it.

..........SO LET’S TALK ABOUT EVERYTHING ELSE INSTEAD 

What are they like when they’re just... casual. and also forced to interact and not isolate themselves into specific rooms lol I imagine they’re... volatile? AND I don’t mean they’re instantly angry on sight, I actually mean they’re unnervingly unpredictable. Sometimes they seem friendly and in love- but it’s always a gross anxious mimicry of it. It’s on shaky ground but there’s an impulse to recreate this idea of happiness that they started with. Maybe out of delusion, maybe out of keeping up appearances? I mean ,the mom is deadly afraid of him and the dad is constantly faking his behavior-- which is an anxious thing to do all the time. Everything about being around each other is exhausting, especially for the mom! B U T

 As is common with a toxic relationship... both of them are desperate for some false like,,, junk food equivalent of something that resembles a relationship. Mirror Man, to anyone just watching them, immediately comes across like someone with unhealthy control, he’s domineering and it leaks through even in his nicest interactions, but he’s also.... needy! Literally, he needs someone like her around! If he didn’t need her, he wouldn’t be keeping her there by force, like she outright says he’s doing. He needs her for validation, for company, for someone to deal with his emotions-- so he CAN be nice to her! In a way? He has a magic kinda way of managing to seem utterly charming without ever saying a nice word to you. As we saw in his interaction with Claire. He doesn’t like her addiction, it’s made her less FUN to be around and it’s not exactly a good look, but... he won’t do anything about it besides insult her for it which uh is not the most effective way to help substance abuse lmao

But then there’s the Mom. Wine Mom, or Hope- yeesh where to begin. I think she sincerely.... has feelings for Mirror dude. Even if she’s called the police on him, she would be heartbroken to leave him. I mean, it’s a toxic relationship-- it’s not gonna be rational yknow?  She likes him when he’s being nice, she’s thrilled at every time he actually shows some sign of caring about anything but his reflection! It gives her-- (ah-ha) hope! But... like someone like Mirror Man does to a person, she’s always walking on egg shells, always trying to appease and placate-- she’s literally under threat of violence, here...

Listen these are!! two people at rock bottom of relationship standards-- the worse of the worst..... Just explaining their relationship in general is depressing. 

[mysterystarz]

AAAA NOVA BABE CONGRATULATIONS ON 100!! CAN'T WAIT TO SEE YOU GROW EVEN MORE OMGHGQEWJD IM SO HAPPY FOR YA<333

mmm can i participate in your event? take your time to respond though i dont want you to feel pressured>:||

-> mmm my pronouns are she/her, and my gender preference is male why do i always spell preference wrong ew

-> my mbti is estj-t! i don't know what an enneagram is sobs

-> my love languages that i like receiving are physical touch and words of affirmation, but i usually give words of affirmation and acts of service

-> sososo i'm pretty enthusiastic, indecisive, and super apologetic, but i'm also really stubborn and pushy. i'm a good listener, but i hate it when things are disorganized and i'm really impatient. i also make friends..really easily but it seems that i lose them after they get to know me gjwheiarjwr

-> mmm my hobbies are volleyball, piano, chess and uhuhuh ..writing

-> i..have not had a partner so thats a difficult questionrwbeajare but i'd like someone who can handle me, yknow? like they're able to understand who i am and all of my quirks, but they also know what to do to keep me in check. i'd also like someone who's just there as a shoulder to cry on, and respects my boundaries and understands what i'm comfortable with and what i'm not

-> HAHAHA mmm this is a great question i would hate it if someone insulted me daily, even if it was meant as a joke, i take things way too personally. i also um would vv much dislike it if they tried to break through comfortable boundaries, like um please respect what im comfy with

-> MMM IM REALLY ANNOYING AND I YELL WAY TOO OFTEN, i also don't get voice cracks often..people tell me my voice is soothing

AAAA NOVA I KNOW I'VE SAID IT SEVERAL TIMES BUT CONGRATS ON 100 OGMWJERADBAER I CANT WAIT TO SEE YOUR BLOG GROW EVEN MORE<33333

your cosmic matchup is…iwaizumi hajime!

runnerups: kita shinsuke, yaku morisuke

YOUR TROPES ARE:

» friends to lovers - you and iwaizumi started out as friends, with him extending his caring tendencies onto you, making sure that you were always okay and cared for. one day, when you injured yourself, he found himself running all the way over to wherever you were if only to slow the panic that grew steadily in his chest. that's when he realized that perhaps he cared for you more than a normal friend would because he loved you and respected you more than anyone else he'd ever known. that's when he made it known, and that's how the two of you became one of the most iconic couples.

» fake relationship - iwaizumi needed someone to get oikawa off his back about dating, which is why he came to you, wondering if you were willing to "date" him for just a month and then return to your normal time once that amount of time was up. what you both didn't expect was for him to be someone who cared for you, grounded you, and respected your boundaries, all while being great company. he always tells you that you were doing great on particularly hard days, and never hesitated to help you make decisions when you couldn't yourself. iwaizumi was also fond of your tiny acts of services, like how you got him snacks before volleyball practice and even offered to play with him on weekends. eventually, both of you caught real feelings, and fake feelings became real. (i feel like this sorta situation is right up your alley)

» office romance - you work for iwaizumi in a reputable company, and contrary to the rumors you've heard about him, he's a perfectly good boss who allows you breaks in between projects and lets you go home early some days to keep you from overworking yourself. eventually, you realize that his gruff and caring nature (and those arms) are some traits that you find him attractive for and begin crushing on him (albeit from afar). eventually, at one of the office parties that was hosted, he came clean and told you the depth of his feelings for you, and you took it from there. (i headcanon this being a sort of arrangement in which the two of you cooperate in-office professionally but mingle straight after)

» soulmates - you had the tattoo of a volleyball on your shoulder, a key mark that you'd come to share with someone. you didn't expect that someone to be a tall volleyball player with a tendency to worry for people he cared about (you, always you) and always go out of his way to make sure that you were comfortable in any number of situations. he'd do it gladly, again and again, as long as you were the one in his arms at the end of the day. (he'd take care of you and respect you so well)

MUTALS EXTRA: a love letter <3

Dear Angie,

There are some days when you are all that roams my mind, and I can't say that it's a bad thing. You've always been a steady force in my life, pushing me towards greater things while showing me the affection I never knew, and I can never say thank you enough, because every moment you're with me is a moment I treasure deeply. I love you for all of your impatience, and drive, the way you're willing to understand me, and for the way you've allowed me to understand you. I'm in love with you for the cutest habits you have, and for the time spent between us where we can just, be. You're the calm to my storm, and I love you more than I've ever loved anyone.

My heart is yours always, 𝒽𝒶𝒿𝒾𝓂𝑒

a/n: i hope you enjoy this because i actually thought this one through quite thoroughly ;>

[billhaderlovebot]

of heartbreak and raviolis - aaron conners

summary: you're sick and tired of everyone taking advantage of your best friend, aka aaron conners, aka the most wonderful man in the world, aka the man you love. not so subtle amy bashing fic.

tags: @whoseblogsthis @mpmarypoppins @a-second-hand-sorrow

aaron conners had always had shitty taste in women. you'd mainly thought so because none of the women he'd ever picked happened to be you.

aaron was too soft. too soft for this world and the men and women in it. they would break him. they would ball up the effervescent, unconditional kindness and love he had for people and shove it right back down.

amy was going to break him, too.

you knew she would.

and, oh, how you hated her. you hated her and how unreliable she was and the infuriating vapidness within her and her terrifying lack of respect for the man you had loved since you were seventeen. your best friend.

watching him kiss her was hell. watching him fall for her, knowing he was gone and there was nothing you could do about it, was worse.

but he was so happy, and he looked at her like she'd hung the moon.

it fucking hurt.

because you were tired of sitting by while everyone took advantage of how fucking nice he always was.

because you knew what was coming. and you didn't have the heart to say "i told you so".

"hey, hey, slow down, honey, i can't understand you."

aaron was crying. his voice came broken and shuddering down the line, trying desperately to get something out that wasn't cut with a sob burning from his chest. but you already knew what he was going to say. you knew, and you were pulling on a sweater and grabbing your keys before he could explain.

"she... she said-" and he couldn't get it out. the sound of his heartbreak made your own heart shatter.

"im coming over." you breathed, slamming the door and heading out into the night to comfort the man you had always wanted but could never have.

---

amy had cheated. actually, amy had been cheating for quite some time. she had never stopped, in fact.

you'd been tangled together on aaron's couch, a mass of crying and limbs and throw blankets, for hours now.

"i thought she loved me." aaron scoffed, staring blankly out of the window to where the sun was just beginning to rise over new york.

his head was in your lap and the only thing keeping him tethered to sanity was your hand threading through his hair. "she said she loved me."

he let out a mirthless laugh, and you were suddenly furious.

"i'm so fucking angry." you whispered, eyes intent on aaron's face, angled towards the sunrise, the remnants of heartbreak in shining tracks down his cheeks.

"why?" he inquired, turning over to look up at you.

"because... because this shouldn't happen, aaron. not to you."

---

light snores filled the quiet apartment as aaron drifted off in your arms. he had moved so that his face rested in the crook of your shoulder, his hand draped over your waist. you couldn't help but feel that this was a little bit not fair. it wasn't the first time something like this had happened to him, and it wasn't the first time you'd had to hold him and comfort him and pretend you hadn't been painfully in love with him since high school. so here you were, again, the doting, supportive best friend. again. fuck.

in sleep, he looked younger. in sleep, he looked content, save for the small wrinkle between his eyebrows, the remainder of the day's emotional strain. it disappeared with the gentle press of your lips against the soft skin, and aaron unconsciously held onto you a little tighter. your heart ached as it did when you were a teenager.

when, at seventeen, you lay eyes on him at a house party, shrouded in smoke and coloured lights and the thumping bass of some nondescript vaporwave track, your heart skipped, like, twelve beats or something.

and, when, blue eyed and floppy haired, he looked back at you, raising his red plastic cup, your heart fell out of your ass. upon trying to talk to the guy who had so quickly stolen your heart, you spilled your vodka soda all over him. he tipped his own drink over your head. you stared at each other for several solid seconds of short lived fury, and then cracked up, immediately going to find more alcohol. you were best friends from that day on.

you were the one who supported him through medical school, helping him study and walking to campus every morning to give him coffee and whatever baked good you deemed acceptable. bidding him goodbye with a kiss on the cheek and the promise of a movie marathon.

you endured aaron's many vapid, fake-nice, passive-aggressive girlfriends who would loathe you and shoot you looks that, should they kill, would have you six feet fucking under.

you pushed how deeply in love with him you were right down below the surface, because his happiness was more important to you.

you thought, now, almost a decade later, as he had cried in your arms for hours about a woman that didn't feel the same, that it might be time for you to get your feelings in order and fucking tell him that all you wanted was for him to take you in his arms and kiss you fucking senseless.

and then they got back together.

"aaron, you fuck- you what?" you were absolutely livid, like, struggling-to-hold-the-phone-without-smashing-it-into-someone's-face livid.

"um, i, i just really want to make it work with her, and she was really sorry, and-"

"aaron, she broke your fucking heart."

"yeah, i know, i-

"and i was the one to let you cry your fucking eyes out on me for hours, even though it hurt. i've stood by for years, watching people hurt you and knowing there was nothing i could do about it."

"i'm not your responsibility, honey." he said. "this is my own life and i... you don't have to be involved."

"how can you fucking say that, aaron? of course i do. i won't let her do this to you again. i'm your best fucking friend, is that not enough for you?"

"...i guess not."

you'd never wanted to beat aaron to death before, but if he continued being so fucking stupid, you'd advise him not to put it past you. there was a deafening silence on the phone after that, because there was nothing you could say to change his mind, and nothing he could say that would make you not want to murder amy townsend. or him.

"i won't do this anymore." you finally said, a lump in your throat.

"what?"

"pretend that... that i'm not in love with you so that i can be okay with the manipulative assholes you pick as girlfriends."

"wh-?"

"goodbye, aaron."

---

the month that followed was probably the worst month of your entire life. you didn't speak to aaron once. no calls, no emails, no 2am visits to listen to billy joel and eat junk and talk about how you both carried the weight of the world on your shoulders. you'd always shared that weight, and, now, it was like someone had torn you in half and left you bleeding.

you were halfway through the last episode of season ten of friends, and your second box of cold pop tarts, crying your eyes out, when the doorbell rang. you wiped your eyes with the sleeve of one of aaron's old college sweaters and dragged yourself up from the couch. your breath caught in your throat at the sight of the disheveled, very attractive man hyperventilating in front of you when the front door swung open.

"aaron?" you stumbled over your thrift store welcome mat you bought because of the blue cat on it, holding yourself up on the door frame and staring up at him in sleepy disbelief.

"hi, yes, hi." aaron was breathing hard, the aftermath of running the whole two miles to your apartment in the middle of the night. "i've been thinking a lot about... about what you said, and i just, i've missed you, yknow? and, i, um, not that that makes everything okay, because i didn't listen to you, and it sucked, and-"

"what do you want?" you asked, trying not to punch him. "i'm tired, aaron. and not just physically. i'm tired of waiting around for you to love me."

"oh, well that's, um, that's good." he nodded, peeling off his jacket. "sorry, um, im sweaty-"

"that's good?" you blinked. aaron was clueless at the best of times, but this was insane.

"yes, yeah, because i realised something, um, just now, at home, with amy."

"i really don't want to hear about amy right now-"

"no, i know, i just, um, i realised that she's not who i want." he shrugged.

"it's about fucking time, aaron, i swear to god-"

"you're my best friend, and... i meant what i said, yknow, about that not being enough for me."

aaron ducked under the doorframe, bending down to capture your lips with his own. your eyes widened, and you froze up, your arms at your sides. the fact that aaron conners was kissing you just wouldn't compute.

and then it did, and you were kissing him back, your arms flying around his neck and your fingers twisting into his hair.

the kiss was searing, and your skin burned where his hands trailed across your cheeks, cupping your jaw, and up the back of your shirt, ghosting across your hip bones.

even when you stumbled back into your apartment, falling backwards over the couch, aaron was relentless, attaching his lips to your neck as if nothing was amiss.

what stood out to you was how easy this was. how you were able to fall into place so quickly as if you'd been doing this for years. as if you hadn't been pining for him for half your life.

"hey," you broke the kiss, gazing up at him in all his blue eyed, flustered, swollen-lipped glory. "hey, we have some, ah, things to talk about, i think."

aaron nodded, swallowing. "yeah, um, yeah."

you pecked his lips, closing your eyes. you just wanted to be someone who had kissed aaron conners, no complications, for a few seconds longer.

"raviolis?" he asked quietly, still hovering above you with that signature, heart-melting grin.

"it's 1am, aaron."

"i know a guy."

[somedayonbroadway]

I just had a thought, about Albert and Race fighting, because they’re best friends fight sometimes yknow. Do you think you could maybe write something about that, please?

Ya know... I didn’t mean for this to happen, but here ya go, hon! Full fledged oneshot! 

Here it is! Accidentally Hurt By a Friend! Because it fit. Little warning though... it is a Christmas fic ;)

“That Christmas Feeling”

Tile: Accidentally Hurt By a Friend 

Fandom: Newsies

Word count: 8k

Characters: Racetrack Higgins, Albert DaSilva, Jack Kelly, Crutchie Morris, Bryan Denton, Killian DaSilva (OC), Dimitri DaSilva(OC), Jeanne DaSilva (OC), Spot Conlon (mentioned), Smalls, Paula (OC)

Summary: It’s snowing outside. Lights are hanging from every house and parents are rushing around to gather their last minute gifts. But Race is just cold. It doesn’t feel like Christmas. Not yet.

"Race, c'mon... just get in the car."

"No! I didn't ask for your opinion! You ain't my mother!"

"No, I ain't! But at least, unlike her, I'm here!"

"Oh, that's real nice, Al. Why don't you continue to rub in the fact that you still have a family, n' I don't."

It was cold. So cold. But neither of them noticed. They were too busy yelling at each other, being blinded by anger that had come upon them both so quickly. Race meet meant to start a fight. He didn't know what he'd meant to do. He just knew he hated fighting.

The redhead let out a breathy, bitter laugh. "You have Jack and Crutchie. Just cause you can't see 'em everyday, don't mean you don't got them!" Albert shot back. He was shivering. But he didn't move.

It was snowing. They were both bundled up. But it was still cold.

Wind blew by all around them. Race was mere feet from the passenger side door of Albert's old car. Albert could drive, Race couldn't. It was something they'd come accustom to. Race had spent so much time in that car. Laughing, crying, panicking. That car is where him and his best friend bonded and talked to each other about everything.

But Race did not want to get in that car right now. "Yeah, because I'm sure you know what it's like ta have one a' your brothers in jail n' the other in across the fuckin' country!"

Shaking his head, Albert took a step closer to his best friend. "Look I don't get to see my brothers everyday either!" he shot back. "Thats not even the point! The point is, Spot Conlon is bad news! What would Jack think?"

"Jack ain't here!" Race screamed, stepping forward to shove the other boy against the side of his car. He regretted the action immediately, stopping for a moment and freezing at his own outburst. He took a step back as the tears came to his eyes.

The one person he found in three years who took the time to understand him, to laugh with him and make him feel like less of a charity case had always been described as off-limits. As dangerous.

Yes, maybe he'd slept with the bad boy from Brooklyn. Maybe it would be a mistake. But it didn't feel like one. At least not yet. And Race guessed he had just wanted his best friend to be happy for him instead of treating him like a piece of glass that would break at any minute.

"Jack ain't here... n' you damn well know it. So stop tellin' me ta think about what my brother would say, alright?!" He didn't know how to stop now. He was just angry. He was just hurt. He was just alone and scared and sick of Albert treating him like some fragile package that couldn't go out into the world alone. "Spot isn't what they say. He was really sweet n' gentle n' unlike you, he makes me feel like I'm my own goddamn person!"

"Ya know what, Race? Screw you, okay?" Albert shot back, shaking his head again and stepping away from the passenger side door. "For the past three years it's been a real shit show f'r you, n' I get that. But ya know one a' these days ya gotta stop throwin' yerself a pity party because you don't like it when someone tells ya your bein' stupid!"

"You don't know a Goddamn thing, Albert!" Race cried, wishing that he could somehow just make everyone understand. Wishing that everyone knew what it was like to hurt this bad all the time. No one understood. "I don't even know why I try ta talk ta you anymore when apparently every move I make is just me actin' out because my life sucks!" He was so sick of being the fragile package. He was tired of being the one that needed protection. He was so tired of everyone shielding him from the world. He was so tired of Albert trying to control him. "At least, unlike you, I have the guts ta still live my life instead a' tryin' ta take over someone else's!"

Shoving Race back finally, Albert breathed in through his teeth. "I am just tryin' ta help you, ya dumbass! Yes! I followed you ta Brooklyn! I was scared for you, okay? Hate ta break it to ya, TJ, but you are fragile! You're life fell apart and it's okay ta be fragile!" Albert argued, his voice high pitched and irritated. People were turning to watch their argument. But Albert didn't care. "You need ta take a step back n' think about-"

"If you tell me one more time ta think about what my father would think, you shut your mouth right now," the blond boy warned darkly, glaring at his friend. Albert scowled, but didn't speak. "You lost your mother before you could remember her. You have no idea what it feels like ta lose anybody right in front a' you... so back off. Stop tryin' ta live my life, stop tryin' ta be my motha' n' stop with the goddamn fake sympathy. I don't need you!"

"I don't need you either!" Albert countered immediately, as if he was daring Race to argue with him. "Ya know what, find your own way home," he muttered. The redhead shook his head and walked around to the driver side door, pulling it open and climbing in, before slamming the thing shut again. And then he drove off, leaving Race standing there in the cold, stranded at a small coffee shop where they both happened to work after school and on the weekends.

He could just go back inside, call an Uber or something. But Race just growled out in anger and reached down into the snow, grabbing a fistful of the frozen dust in his gloved hand before chucking it at his best friend who was already halfway down the street.

Huffing when Albert made no move to turn back, Race grumbled under his breath and began walking. It couldn't be that bad. It was only snowing. He only lived three miles away.

But home is not where he wanted to go at that moment. No. So somehow, he made his way down to the subway. And he was headed downtown.

Life was far from perfect for one Tyler James Kelly, or as it said on his fake ID, Antonio Isaac Higgins. He didn't like the things that tied him to everything he'd been through. He didn't like that his name was what tipped everyone off. That it's what made everyone pity him or treat him like some kid.

He knew his life was shit. He didn't need everyone else reminding him of that.

Especially not now. Not when Christmas was right around the corner.

He pulled his coat further around him and the beanie down tighter over his head. It was cold. The fingerless gloves he wore were more for the look than warmth, as he hadn't known he'd be spending so much time outside.

Jesus, Jack really would kill him.

He should just get off, call Albert. Apologize. He shouldn't be doing this. Denton would kill him once he figured out that he hadn't gone straight home after work.

But the exit came too quickly and Race stepped off, walking down some familiar roads, sure to keep his gaze low and steady. He knew how things worked in certain neighborhoods. As long as he kept his profile low, it would be okay. He just needed to get to the right place and he'd be safe.

He knew he'd be safe.

"ID?"

Race showed it to the woman, sure to keep himself calm as he did so. They'd almost caught on a few times. But Race was a very good actor. He'd learned from the best.

"Make sure to sign in. Someone'll be out with him in a moment."

Nodding, the boy did as he was told, going through the familiar routine with no difficultly before he was led over to a seat in front of bullet proof glass. A phone was on his right. He slid his ID card back into his pocket as he waited, reaching up to rub at his eyes.

It wasn't long before someone in a grey jumpsuit was lead out to the seat across from him by one of the guards.

The second Jack saw him his eyes brightened, but Race knew his brother had to pretend to not be happy to see him.

The young man behind the glass slowly lowered himself down into the chair and took the phone just as Race did, though he was a bit slower. The boy was quick as lightning. "Again, Racer?" Jack asked in a small laugh. "You keep this up, you're gonna be the one sittin' in here, 'stead a' me," he joked.

The boy let out a small laugh too, though it was a bit sadder. There was a lot of things that were making Race's heart clench in that moment. The fact that he couldn't hug Jack, the thought of spending another Christmas without both of his brothers and the fight he'd just had with his best friend in the entire world who was the only constant he'd had in his life for the past three years.

Since his papa died.

He swallowed hard and sniffled a little bit, trying to pretend that it was from the cold when they both knew it wasn't. "Hey, Jackie..." Race whispered into he phone as his smile faded a bit.

Leaning over the counter even further, Jack sighed. "Hey, kid..." he greeted back, shooting the boy one of his famous smiles. It cheered Race up, even if only for a moment. "You know you're not s'posed ta be here without Denton," the young man whispered, giving him a knowing look.

And Race shrugged. "I just really missed you t'day... n'... I... Denton wouldn't a' let me come..." he forced out, scratching the back of his neck nervously. "I'm sort a'... s'posed ta be... um..."

"Grounded," Jack finished for him, nodding a little. "I know ya think Denton just leaves me in the dark, pal, but he's in here once a week, with or without you," he stated. When he saw the look of fear pass over the boy's face he sighed again. "I won't tell him you're here if ya really don't want me to..."

The longing that Race felt coursed through his whole body. He wished beyond anything else that his brother could just hold him for a minute. He was bound to break any second now. "I just... I needed ta talk ta someone... I needed ta talk ta you..." he stated honestly, running a hand through his hair.

Nodding a bit, Jack shrugged. "Okay... I'm listenin'," he promised gently.

The way Jack looked at him was like nothing else. Jack had always been his hero growing up. He thought it would change when he'd seen Jack led out of a courtroom in handcuffs. Maybe it had, for just a little while. But he quickly came to realize that Jack was still the same Jack he'd always known.

After all, the only reason Jack had been hacking and stealing in the first place was because he'd been trying to provide for him.

"I just... me n' Al got into a fight... n'... I dunno, it's stupid..." he finally muttered out, not really wanting to complain about his small problems when he only had so long with the man who was the reason he had survived his childhood.

"Well, if it's got you upset enough ta come all the way down here, from work, n' use a fake ID ta talk ta me, it prob'ly ain't stupid... but if ya don't wanna talk about it, I got somethin' I wanna tell you," Jack offered happily, looking much too excited about something.

The mere look in his brother's eye was enough to make Race smile. Jack's excitement always gave him a warm, familiar type of feeling. Because even when they'd been on the streets, freezing and cold, Jack had always managed to make him smile. "What?" he questioned, curious.

His grin widening as he let out a small laugh, Jack shrugged. "Guess who's gettin' released in two weeks," he prompted.

The air caught in Race's chest as tears sparked in his eyes. He let his mouth hung open. "Really?" he breathed, somewhat expecting this to be some kind of mean joke.

But Jack nodded. "Yeah! I was gonna wait till Denton was here ta tell you! N' I was gonna call Crutchie tomorrow night. But... I'm gettin' outta here... December 22nd..."

With a small chuckle and tears beginning to fall down his cheeks, Race covered his lips. "You're gonna be home for Christmas," he whispered. "You're... n'... you're gonna be home!"

He couldn't describe it. The excitement he felt, that is. Jack had tears running down his face too. He was so happy. He lifted up his hand to press it up against the glass, like he wished to touch Race's face. He did. He really did. "I'm gonna start over, baby... get a job n' find my own place..."

"I'll help ya," Race offered, still overjoyed. "Whateva' ya need!"

"That's very nice, pal... but all I'm gonna need from you is a hug," he assured. Race grinned, reaching to wipe at his cheeks. "Alright, c'mon, now... what's a' matta', Tyler James? What happened?"

Oh. That. Race had almost forgotten about that. He sniffled, wiping at his nose with the back of his hand as he shook his head. "Al just... doesn't get it..." he stated, still trying to clear his tears away. He began to use his sleeves instead. "I was... just... he treats me like a goddamn piece a' glass. I know our life ain't perfect, but I don't need him treatin' me like a kid all the time!" he forced out, running another hand through his hair. "I guess I just wish I was normal," he sighed.

Jack nodded. "I'm sorry we ain't. Really... but if I know Albert, he's just lookin' out f'r you..." he tried to reason.

The younger boy went to respond, but his phone vibrated in his pocket before he could. He shook his head and rested the old phone at the crook of his neck, reaching to pull out his own.

He thought maybe it was Denton, calling him, screaming at him over text, telling him to get his ass back to the house. But that's not what it was.

Jack watched his little brother's eyes widen. "Racer?" he called, curious as to what was going on. "Kid?" he called again, when the boy continued to stare in horror at the screen in his hands.

The picture that had popped up on his screen was a text message from one of his classmates. A girl he called Smalls. With it was the message "have you seen this?"

No. Race hadn't seen it.

It was a picture of him. Him and someone else. Someone else who had a tongue down his throat. A boy. Spot Conlon. Only, Spot's face wasn't visible in that picture. No. Of course not. Only Race was.

Albert had probably sent it to her. Probably in a group chat.

"Baby brother? You're scarin' me... what is it?"

The boy licked his lips as he tried to figure out a way to respond. He knew who'd taken that picture. "I'm gonna kill him..." he muttered. Jack's eyebrows furrowed for a moment.

Just as he might've questioned his brother again, another voice spoke and Jack's eyes widened. "Oh, but you'll be dead first, now won't you?"

Race dropped the prison phone and whirled around. "Denton," he stated, simply acknowledging the man, though the fear was clear in his eyes. The man was standing there completely disappointed and stoic. He was in his late thirties at most, with brown hair and deep brown eyes.

"I told you to school, to work and back. No exceptions. Phone. Now." Denton demanded, holding out his hand. But Race didn't move.

He was too stunned. "But..."

"Tyler James Kelly, move your ass now. Give me the phone and go to the car," the man ordered again. The boy could've burst into tears right then and there.

There were already tears falling down his face. He didn't want to make a scene. He locked his phone and handed it to the man, turning back to his big brother and picking up the line. "I love you, Jackie... see ya soon..."

Jack nodded. "Love ya, kiddo..." he responded with a sorry look in his eyes. "I'll see you in two weeks, okay?"

The boy nodded and rushed past his foster dad quick, paying him no mind on his way out. Jack watched him go, his heart breaking in the process. He waited for Denton to pick up the phone. And when he did, he didn't give him the chance to have the first word. "Look, I know he's an idiot, but don't put this all on him... he n' Albert had a fight n' he ran ta me ta talk about it because that's what woulda been normal," he tried to explain, wishing beyond anything that he could just hold the boy close and tell him it was all going to be okay.

But Denton sighed. The man had heard it all before. Race did what he thought what be normal. Sometimes, it just wasn't good for him. "I know it's hard on him, not having you or Charlie... but this whole fake ID thing has to stop before it gets out of hand. I told him a week and he couldn't even survive that long without using it," he stated. He saw Jack's eyes linger down to the table in front of him as he nodded sadly. "Look, I know he misses you and I know you miss him, but he needs to learn to follow the rules-"

"Unlike me, yes I know," Jack replied, his green eyes a bit angry. Not at Denton. At himself. "Look, I'm... I just need ta say thank you... f'r taking him in... most folks wouldn't be half as good ta him as you are. So thank you... just please go easy on him..." he asked, running a nervous hand through his hair.

Nodding, Denton agreed. "I'll see you soon, Jack," he stated confidently, offering Jack a small smile.

The young man smiled. "December 22nd," he relayed to Denton, just as he had to his brother.

An odd feeling filled up in Denton's chest at the news. He couldn't depict it. Not right then. Not when Jack's was beginning to look so happy again. "I'll be there to get you. With Race. I promise."

That seemed to be all Jack needed to hear. He bit his lip as he hung the phone back up and then stood to his feet, offering the man a grateful nod before he was escorted away.

And Denton was left on his own to deal with a broken sixteen year old who he hoped had just gone to the car.

—

"Gee Race maybe if you'd just listen ta me, I might have somethin' ta say, but of course ya can't because I'm not Jack n' you can't listen ta anyone who's not Jack, not even Charlie, who, oh by the way, asked me ta keep n' eye on you before goin' off ta California even though he was really nervous about leavin' you and thought you might hate him!"

Albert was talking to himself. It was a habit he'd picked up from a young age. Sometimes it helped him get his thoughts in order. Sometimes it made him even more confused. Sometimes it just made him angry that he wasn't actually just talking to his best friend.

He pulled into his driveway, shutting the car off quickly before hitting the steering wheel and collapsing back into the driver's seat. He was so tired. He just didn't know what to do.

Race and him had been friends since they were six years old. When Race's dad has been killed in that car wreck, Albert was the only person he'd told about it. Albert was the only one who knew about Race and his brothers living on the streets, hardly able to find shelter. Albert was the only one that Race had been comfortable asking for a bed and a blanket. Race had always run to him for help when Jack and Crutchie couldn't offer anymore.

Now Race didn't need him. Because Albert had apparently had no part in getting him through the past three years.

With a huff, the red headed boy pulled his phone out of his back pocket, pulling off his gloves and typing in a familiar phone number. He let the thing ring and he let his leg bounce up and down in attempts to warm himself up in the car that was still freezing inside.

"Hello?"

"I can't do it, Charlie. He's driving me insane. I'm trying to talk to him and he won't even-"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Charlie called, clearly confused and stunned. "Slow down, Albie, what's goin' on?"

Trying to take a full breath before speaking again, the boy seethed. "You need ta call, Race. He's not listening ta me. I was tryin' ta tell him it wasn't a good idea ta be sleepin' around with Spot Conlon and he lost it," he explained as simply as he could.

A beat of silence passed over the other end of the call before Charlie was able to process the information. "Spot Conlon?"

"Yes!" Albert confirmed angrily.

Charlie groaned. "Oh, Tyler James..." he muttered. "Look, Al... Tyler is just lookin' f'r some kind of outlet, okay? He's been callin' me like crazy f'r the past few days. He's really missin' me n' Jack and he figures if he can't have that, he'll find somethin' else," he tried to explain. But Albert still didn't truly understand. "Just... he's really strugglin' right now. Don't let him push you away. That won't be good f'r no one..."

Of course it wouldn't. But Race was sick of being treated delicately. Albert didn't know what to do. He just wanted his friend to be the guy he'd always been. He just wanted Race to talk to him. "Okay... okay... I'm sorry... I just... I'm so worried about him n'... we had this stupid fight and I shouldn't have left him standin' alone and I'm really sorry, but he wasn't gettin' in the car n'-"

"Jesus, it's a wonder you n' Race can ever actually hear each other," he joked. It was something both of the boys were very aware of. Nervous rambling. They could just never stop it. "Look, I'll call him. But you should too. You're his best friend n' he loves you. I'll text you after I talk ta him, okay?"

"Okay..." Albert sighed, running a hand over his face. "Okay... I'm sorry..."

"It's okay, Red. I'll talk to ya soon, okay... take a breather..."

Sucking in a deep breath through his nose, Albert nodded, though he knew his friend couldn't see him. "Okay... bye, Crutchie..."

"Bye, Al..."

It had been a long, hard year. Especially for Race. Sometimes when Albert looked at his friend it was hard not to picture the way he clung to Crutchie at the airport, tears spilling down his face as he begged his brother to stay or the way he completely broke when he had to watch Jack hauled out of a courtroom in handcuffs.

It was hard to see that crazy, bright, carefree little boy that he used to be. Race was broken. And Albert was trying to hard to just hold him together.

He supposed it was possible that his grip was too strong. That he was just making his best friend crack even faster.

He shouldn't have asked about Spot. He shouldn't have followed Race in the first place. But Race had been acting odd for the past couple weeks. It was Christmas time. Albert knew that. He also knew that last Christmas had been extremely hard on Race. The first one he'd had without Jack.

But he shouldn't have taken that picture. That was a lousy thing to do.

Before he could think further on that and let the sadness and guilt fill up in his chest even faster, his phone buzzed. He picked it up, curious as to how Charlie had talked to Race so quickly, before he found that it wasn't Charlie at all.

Paula: "do you have the notes for Algebra?"

Without hardly thinking, Albert clicked to send his classmate pictures of the notes that he'd meant to send her anyway. And then he shoved the thing into his pocket and got out of the car.

"Shit..." he muttered to himself. It really was freezing. He really shouldn't have left Race.

Rushing inside, the boy shut the door quickly behind him. "Dad?" he called, kicking his shoes off as the warmth hit him.

"Dad went off to the store! You're stuck with us," another voice replied.

And Albert smiled. "Hey, Dimitri," he greeted easily, walking around the corner to find his older brother, standing in the middle of the family room, a little, red headed girl up on his shoulders.

She was grinning so widely and had her hands on the man's forehead. "Uncle Albie!" she cried happily. Albert smiled and ran into the room.

"Jeanne!" the boy cried, taking the small girl off of her father's shoulders so that he could give her a hug. She wrapped her arms around his neck and squealed in delight. "Where's your mama?" he asked.

"She's at work. She's gonna pick up Killian on her way here. He insisted on making dinner today," Dimitri stated, taking his daughter back from Albert's arms. "Where's Racer? Aren't you two attached at the hip?" he teased.

Albert rolled his eyes. "No. We don't have ta do everything t'gether!" he defended, wincing at his own insistence.

Dimitri furrowed his eyebrows and held his daughter close. "Okay... Killian was gonna ask if he wanted ta stay for dinner. Sorry," he defended, taking Jeanne and walking past his little brother, running a hand over his hair on the way out.

Albert let him walk away. He pulled out his phone again, hoping for a text from Charlie. Instead, he found another text from Paula. "Who's that with Race?"

Albert's heart dropped. "Shit," he hissed, sliding open his phone to get to the conversation.

Five pictures. Only four of them were what he'd actually meant to send.

The last one was a picture he'd meant to delete.

"Really, Al? In front of the kid?" his brother asked irritated. But Albert rushed passed him and ran up the stairs.

"Shit, shit, shit," he muttered again and again. This wasn't just a small mistake. He'd sent that picture to Paula Greene. The gossip queen of Roosevelt High.

He opened up his Snapchat. It was the first thing he saw. "Shit!"

—

"You can't ground me f'r wantin' ta see my brotha'," Race argued, slow tears still sliding down his face. He leaned against the cool window, making a point to curl up in the corner of the subway, away from his foster father.

The man reached to put his hand on the boy's knee. Race rolled his eyes and wiped at his cheeks again. "No... you're right. I can't ground you for wanting to see your brother..." he agreed, thumbing over the kid's leg. "I can ground you for making a fake ID and not ever telling me where you're going. You know that I don't want you going down to the prison alone."

"You're not my dad!" Tyler insisted, pulling out of the man's reach. He curled in even further on himself and sniffled as his throat tightened. He hugged himself tight and refused to look Denton in the eye.

The man didn't argue with him. He didn't try to touch him again. He just let the boy ignore him for a minute as the phone in his pocket received notification after notification. Reaching into his pocket he took it out, hoping to just turn it off, before he saw the somewhat alarming messages that were popping up on his foster son's screen.

He opened it.

The boy scoffed. "Really? You're gonna look through my texts now?"

Denton ignored him, finding the thing that all the chaos was about. A picture. A picture he didn't like at all. "TJ, who is this?"

Not even looking down at the screen, Race shook his head and crossed his arms. "Nobody," he mumbled. His eyes glossed over again as he tried hard not to think about it.

But Denton was still scrolling through the cell phone. "Tyler... someone posted it..."

That's what really got Race's attention. His gaze shot over to the man. "What?" Albert wouldn't do that. Albert was still his best friend.

"Okay, calm down..." Denton tried when the boy shot up and grabbed for his small device. "Tyler, stay calm please-"

The boy grasped at his hair tightly, shaking his head. "I'm... I'm not out!" He admitted into the empty train. "Bryan, you n' my brothers n' Al are the only ones who knew!"

The man placed a quick hand on the boy's back and pulled him close, locking his phone as more messages appeared, some asking if he was okay, others teasing him and calling him names. He gently took the phone back and pulled the kid to him. Race resisted, but only for a moment. That was when he just let it all go.

He sobbed. And he let Denton have the phone. He wanted his brothers. He wanted his father. He wanted his mother to come back. He wanted it to feel like Christmas. He wanted so badly to sit in the kitchen on Jack's lap and help him decorate cookies and hear Crutchie singing carols at the top of his lungs. He wanted his brothers and his parents and he just wanted it to be Christmas.

And now his best friend was mad at him. And all he could be was angry and terrified that he was losing that too.

"Okay... it's okay..." Denton soothed, letting the boy lay in his lap and holding him gently. Race had been with him for almost a year. He loved the kid like he was his own. But Race was still having trouble without his big brothers. "It'll be okay, buddy..."

From the bottom of his heart, the man hoped it would be.

—

Eventually they made it home. Race had calmed down just a bit by then, settling for a couple sniffles and his foster father's arm around his shoulders.

It was warm inside. Race relaxed a bit at the smell of the Christmas tree that was light over in the corner. He let the dim lights calm him even further as he kicked his shoes off and left them by the door. "Lemme guess, straight ta my room?" he asked, knowing he was still in trouble.

But a hand settled down on his shoulder and before he could argue Denton had brought him back into a tight hug. And Race melted into him. "I'm sorry..." he sighed. "I didn't mean ta-"

"Shhhh..." the man soothed, rubbing a hand up and down the boy's back. "I know that it's hard. I know that you miss having Christmas with your family. I know that I'm not your biological father... but I do care about you," he promised, letting the kid rest against him, taking most of his weight. "I'm sorry about what's happenin'. I'm sure Albert didn't mean it, but that doesn't mean it's okay..."

"I just... I like Spot... n' Albert doesn't... I didn't think he would do somethin' like this..." Denton pet the kid's hair as he whispered. "I thought maybe seein' Jack would make me feel betta'..." he admitted, resting his cheek on his foster father's shoulder. "He loves Christmas time..." A small smile came onto his lips as reminisced on old memories. "One year we stayed in a shelter... Jack dressed up as Santa Claus f'r the kids... he got... um... got some money ta get them some toys n' some candy..."

A small laugh escaped Denton as he pulled away and cupped the boy's face to thumb at Tyler's tears. "That sounds like Jack," he stated with a small nod.

The boy glanced down at the ground. "It ain't fair..." he breathed.

"I know, kiddo," Denton assured. "But hey... he's comin' home... he'll be here for Christmas..."

The boy let out a small laugh. "Yeah, I gotta go out shoppin'... make up f'r last Christmas," he joked.

Denton nodded. "How 'bout we go together?"

"Okay," Race smiled, blinking and realizing for the first time how tired he was. "Can I call Charlie n' say goodnight?" he asked.

Running a hand over the boy's hair, the man nodded. "Yeah... use the home phone..."

"Alright, old man," Race teased, offering a sad smile to his guardian before sliding away from him and scooping up the phone off of the kitchen counter.

He dialed a familiar number with no hesitation and then walked into the living room, flopping back down on the couch. "Hey..." he sighed as his brother picked up the phone, not even letting the older boy get a word in.

"Hey, kid..." Charlie greeted. "I've been tryin' ta call you for a while. You okay?"

Swinging his legs over the edge of the armrest, Race shrugged. "It's been a long day..." he stated vaguely. "I saw Jack... he's doin' okay..."

"I didn't ask about Jack, buddy. I'm askin' about you," Charlie insisted. "How're you?"

Letting his eyes slide shut for a moment, the boy shrugged again. "Al n' I got in a fight t'day... n' he posted a picture a' me n' a boy... n' I'm grounded cause I went ta see Jack by myself n' now I'm tired n' I don't wanna go back ta school 'r work... n' I really miss you," he sighed, beginning to feel his body grow more and more exhausted as the minutes ticked by.

"I miss you more than ya know, pal... I'm sorry you're havin' a tough time..." his brother said sadly. "I gotta be honest though... Al called me ta tell me who you've been seein'..." he admitted. Race made a small squawk of offense before Charlie cut him off. "Hey! I'm not sayin' nothin', I just need ta ask if he's been bein' good ta you. I'm your big brother, it's my job ta look out for ya."

"I know, but-"

"Is he bein' good ta you?" Charlie pushed again.

Biting his lip as he pondered over the question, Race sighed. "Yeah... yeah he is... he's sweet on me, Charlie... I like him... I like him a lot..."

"So? Tell me about him..."

Even with his eyes still closed, Race grinned.

He began to ramble on and on about this bad boy from Brooklyn who had made a complete fool of himself while trying to ask the blond boy to just go on a date with him. He told him about the leather wearing, tattoo covered jock had bought him frozen yogurt and taken him to the mall where they'd met puppies that the older boy melted over.

And Charlie laughed. "Okay... okay... well, I'm happy for you, pal. But if he ever gives you trouble, you tell me. I'll be there in a heartbeat."

"If Jack doesn't get to him first," Race joked, running a hand through his unruly blond curls. "Thanks, Crutch..." he whispered as he saw Denton walk around the couch to face him, telling him that it was time for him to go to bed. "The old man wants me off the phone..."

Denton stuck his tongue out at him. And Race laughed.

Charlie did too. "Okay... well, Goodnight, kiddo... n' Racer?"

"Yeah?"

"Don't shut Albert out... whatever happened... I'm sure he didn't mean ta do what he did, okay? He's your best friend. He loves you..."

Without even thinking much on it, Race nodded. "I know..." he admitted. "Goodnight, Charlie... I love you."

"I love you, Tyler James," Charlie responded. And then he hung up.

Smiling a little easier, Race set the phone aside and looked up at his guardian. "Thank you, Denton," he breathed, looking more than exhausted.

The man nodded. "You're welcome, TJ," he smiled. "Now go to bed."

With a dramatic sigh, Race flung his legs over the front of the couch and stood up, walking over and wrapping his arms around his foster father's chest from behind. "Love ya," he whispered. And then he walked up the stairs to his room and quietly shut the door.

What he didn't know was the joy he'd just placed in his guardian's heart.

"Love you too, buddy..."

—

Albert awoke to the sound of his phone ringing at six AM on Sunday morning. He groaned, not even lifting his face from its place buried in his pillow as he reached for his phone and placed it next to his ear. "What?!"

"Get up. I have coffee, made by Denton. It's time ta go Christmas shoppin'."

"Racer?"

"You have fifteen minutes before I finish pancakes and come get you up myself," he threatened, before hanging up the phone.

Pancakes. Albert sat up quick. Race was already downstairs.

He did as he was told, knowing not to challenge his best friend when he made these kinds of threats, especially not when both of his brothers were hanging out, making breakfast in their kitchen.

The wake up would be brutal.

He was up in seconds, practically barreling down the stairs and into the kitchen where he saw his best friend laughing up at the kitchen island with Albert's four year old niece talking about something with chocolate chip pancakes filling up her mouth. No one understood her. But it sure was entertaining.

"Race..."

The blond boy turned to him, his smile fading just a bit. But Race didn't yell. He didn't scream. He just nodded. "Hey, Albie. I brought you some famous 'Denton coffee'," he offered, grabbing a travel mug off the counter. "And Killian is makin' you pancakes so that we can hit the road soon," he explained easily.

Albert cocked his head to the side, but took the offered coffee. Denton made the best coffee. "Uh... thanks..." he breathed, his voice still rough with sleep.

The slightly taller boy nodded and went to turn back to his pancakes.

But Albert was quick. He rushed forward and embraced his best friend, shocking him for a minute. "I'm so sorry, Race!" he whispered out quick. "I didn't mean ta send no one that picture! I swear! I thought I deleted it n'-"

"Albert, calm down!" Race insisted, pulling out of the embrace. "It's okay... I just... I realized that, you're my best friend... and it would take so much time ta find another one if I killed ya," he joked, pulling away and ducking when Albert swatted at him. "Okay! Okay, I'm sorry too! I know you're just tryin' ta look out f'r me, Al. Sometimes it's just... hard..." he admitted with a small shrug.

"How's Jackie doin', Racer?" Killian asked as he flipped over some pancakes on the stove.

"Doin' just fine, man... he's, uh, he's gettin' released in two weeks," he admitted, grinning when Albert gasped at the news. Killian turned around, his face lighting up too. "Yeah, he just told me yesterday. He'll be home for Christmas!"

Albert smiled. It was no wonder Race was so happy all of the sudden. He wasn't complaining. He was sure Race would still be mad at him from time to time. But right now, Race was too happy to angry.

He just wanted it to be Christmas.

"I'm so happy for you, Teej," he said. Race giggled and hugged him again. "We shoppin' for Jack?"

Race nodded. "Yeah... and some others..." he admitted.

"Well then... let's get this show on the road!"

—

Race stood practically bouncing up and down in the light snow as he waited. He'd never smiled so much in his whole life.

Because there, walking towards him, was the very person who'd raised him. The one who'd done everything in his power to make sure he'd be okay.

There was Jack, wearing jeans and a leather jacket that Denton insisted he have. He had one of his old beanies on his head and his old, worn boots. He grinned when his eyes landed on his little brother.

And he started running.

Race couldn't help it. He ran too.

He giggled when they collided and Jack lifted him up off the ground in a bone crushing embrace. "Hey there, baby!" the young man cried, holding the kid close to his chest and walking him back over to Denton's car, the boy's feet dangling just above the asphalt.

He seemed even more physically built than Race had last noticed. He didn't pay much mind to it. He tightened a hand in Jack's hair and pressed a kiss to the side of his head. "Hey, Jackie," he breathed, sobs wanting to rip from his throat. He held them back. They were still in public. He could wait.

He was happy. All he could be was happy.

"I missed you, Tyler James," Jack laughed, setting his boy back on his feet before inspecting him. "Alright, what d'we have here? I see three eyes, one ear, little horns, and... hey, these fangs look new!" he teased, ruffling the boy's hair before planting a kiss on his forehead.

Race just laughed. "I'm exactly how ya left me. Just a little taller," he added, giving Jack a wink. And Jack swooped in to hug him again. Race held fast to him, letting Jack drop quick, loving kisses all over his face and neck. The stubble growing around his big brother's cheeks and chin made it tickle. Race didn't care.

It was made clear quickly how badly Jack wished never to let go of his baby brother. Race never minded that. He was still bouncing. His face was buried in his brother's chest. He couldn't see the tears glistening in the man's eyes.

"Welcome back ta the real world, Jackie," another voice cut it.

Jack looked up from Race's long blond curls to see Albert standing beside the car, smiling contently. Denton was beside him. They all had tears in their eyes. So Jack pecked another kiss to his little brother's temple and lifted him up and over his shoulder. The boy squealed and laughed, just as his foster father and best friend did. Jack grinned, bringing Albert into a side hug. "Hey, little Red! How's it goin', kid?"

"Not too bad, Jackie," he promised. "I don't know how you kept him out of trouble for so long, though," Albert teased. The young man ruffled his hair.

Then Jack moved over to Denton who he immediately shook hands with. "Thank you," was all he was truly able to say.

Denton nodded. "Thank you for raising such a spectacular kid," he shot back.

Nodding and breathing out hard, his breath visible in the cold, Jack gently set his brother down as the tears escaped him. Happy, grateful, relieved tears. Those words had put them there.

Race grinned up at his brother when he was set back on the ground. Jack was looking at him with such pride and wonder all at once. "I love you so much, Tyler," he said again, wanting to cry even more. "So... so much..."

"I love you too, papa-bear," Race teased.

"Well, hey, has everyone forgotten about me?" a voice called from inside the car.

Jack's head shot over to the source. He almost collapsed. "Charlie?!" he cried, rushing over to the door and wrenching it open. The boy was sitting there with tears rushing down his cheeks and a charming grin that shines brighter than the sun. "I thought you couldn't come until-"

"I finished my finals early n' decided, eh I guess I'll go see my big brother," he stated cheekily. "But none a' that standin' out in the snow, shit. It's cold."

Shaking his head, Jack grabbed his brother by the wrist and pulled him closer until he was able to bring him into a proper embrace. The slightly younger boy stood on one leg, the other in a brace. A crutch lie on the ground of the car. Jack didn't pay any mind to it. He just held his brother close.

Race watched the scene in delight, stepping closer to his best friend and letting the redhead sling an arm around his shoulder.

December 22nd. It was Race's favorite day.

It felt like Christmas. It really did.

—

"Hey, Race?"

"Yeah, Al?"

"I'm really sorry f'r... ya know..."

"Outing me to the entire school and all of our coworkers?" Race asked, turning to look at his friend. They both lay over Race's bed, Race sideways one way his feet hanging off the right side of the bed, and Albert the other, with his feet dangling over the left. "Or f'r followin' me ta Brooklyn or basically bein' the stalker we all know you really are?"

Albert grabbed a pillow and hit his friend with him. Race let out a noise of false distress before laughing. "You deserve betta' n' what ya got, ya know?"

"Don't matta'," Race promised. Albert turned his head towards his friend. "I mean... I'm one a' the lucky ones. Throughout everythin'... I always had you... even if we were mad at each otha'," he explained.

Albert nodded as a smile took over his face. "I love ya, my brotha'," he stated as Race sat up and grabbed the Santa hat that lay on his nightstand.

Race put the thing on and turned back to him. "I love you, my Albie!" he whispered before standing up and rounding the bed, extending his hand to the other boy. "Shall we play Santa Claus?"

With a quiet laugh and a nod, Albert accepted. "We shall!"

Together, they bundled up a bag of gifts and tiptoed into the living room.

"Merry Christmas to all, and to all a goodnight!" Race whispered into the quiet house.

Albert laughed.

It really was a Merry Christmas after all.

A/N: Thanks for reading! Much love! 

@badthingshappenbingo

[afterthelastreset]

Friskriel Week Day 4

Day 4: First Kiss "How could you do something like this?" Now some could consider this kind of question to be harsh, but the calmness of the voice chased away any thought of that happening. The vibrant yellow eyes looked over the state of the pale looking girl lying down on the mattres beside him. The lady sheepishly smiled and sorta sunk down deeper into the fluffy blankets surrounding her. Even if she didn't have awet towel on her forward or pale cheeks hed still be concerned about her, it was just a habit of his. He couldn't help it- "I mean-...It was just a little rain-" He scoffed. "A little? Frisk-" He gestered to the bed. "You got a fever and sound like a walrus drowning in quick sand. Thank goodness you had cold medicne." She gave off a nervous chuckle that ending in another round of coughing and him raising an eyebrow."My point proven." "I-I...was only trying to help." The guilt and puppy eyes she naturally gave off whenever she thought anyone was upset with her made him suck in a breif inhale of air. It was hard to be mad at her in general.....but the things she got herself into! He sometimes wondered how she could do these things but he guessed it came from her naturally caring personality. It was both a blessing and a curse.  "I-I really d-didnt mean to- *cough* get s-s-sick." She attempted to give off a bigger smile which ending in more coughing.  She would admit it now, it was kinda a dumb idea trying to bring in supplies while it was raining like crazy. She was only trying to help restock really low supplies, but no good deed goes unpunished down here I guess. The goat monster sighed and reached up his hands to rub the end of his nose. "Well...hopefully you'll get better in no time." "Yeah...Temmie offered to help with some things-" The small growl that came from the deer made her stop for a moment. "Trust me when I say that i am quite capable of helping you much for efficiently than a fake-love struck pup. The last thing you need is him nagging you as you're trying to recover-" He paused when he felt something grab his arm and when he looked down, the sight of a smiling human holding his arm with a gentle grip. He sorta froze at the gesture and slightly widened his eyes. "I know...and-" Her hand slowly came up to cup the other side of his face. Still frozen as still as a statue, it was easy for her to lean him over from his sitting position on the bed side and gently placed a quick peck on his cheek."Thank you."  In an instant his cheeks blew up a bright pink across his face and after a few seconds his brain seemed to finally restart when he quickly leaned back up into a sit up position. "Of Course." His voice came out in a strange sqeauky pitched voice. "If You Need anything, Im happy to help!" "W-Well...Another b-blanket wouldn't hurt." The speed at which he stood up and starting to the door wasn't surprising. "YeS! B-b-BE Back s-SHORTly!" "Oh....ok." She sat there and watched as the flustered goat made his way out of the room and into the hallway outside. Waiting herself for a few moments before slowly laying back down into her bed, slowly reality caught up and as before she dipped down into the blankets but this time covering her whole face and making a small whine sound. She really had it bad didnt she? -10 minutes later-  Hesitant steps came down the hallway back down towards the bedroom. A blanket resting under one arm. The footsteps soon stopped in front of one door on the right and the boy paused. It took a moment before he was able to reach a hand up to knock on the door. "Frisk?", a voice forced out almost a whisper. No one answered so he knocked again a bit louder. ...Still nothing. So he gently grabbed ahold of the door knob and turned. "Frisk? I-I brought the extra blanket you-" "....Oh." The dark room made it hard to see but he could make out the sleeping figure over in the corner. Her chest rose and fell slowly in her sleep and a smile was present on her sleeping face. He hesitated for a moment, but decided it was best to keep his promise of getting her the extra blanket she asked for. So slowly stepping in, he gently closed the door behind him with a soft click-  He froze when she made a groaning noise but she didnt wake up, only buried her head halfway under the blanket. He sighed in releif before silently walking up to the bed, taking the blanket in both hands he flung it out. Then over the bed in the air. It gently floated down until it drapped over her sleeping form.  He stared down at the sleeping form of her for a moment, before gently smoothing the wrinkles out from the covers- ".....Asriel?" He froze. .....Slowly his eyes shifted up towards the bedframe. A pair of brown eyes blinked back up sloppily at him, wild brown bed head around her face.  "What are you doing?" "Oh. I..Uh-" He quickly pulled himself away from the bed embarrassed and cleared his throat. "I-I-I was just delivering t-the blanket you wanted. *ahem* ....I-Im sorry if I woke you." She blinked at him for a moment, before shifting her eyes down to her body. Indeed a new blanket was over her. .....She then looked back to him with a smile that made his heart skip a beat. "It's ok. I don't mind." "I- uh-....." God he could feel his cheeks growing more pink by the second. Her eyes and smiled always seemed to make him weak in the knees. Luckily he new exactly what to do- "W-Well I-I-Ill let you get back to sleep-" He froze when something grabbed his hand. He soon found out what when Frisk, now slightly sitting up in bed pulled him back a little more. "Um- Hey. W-Would you mind if we-..." Her eyes shifted to the side. Wait. Did she sound nervous? "Cu-.. Cuddle? Y-Yknow. J-Just as friends! I-Im s-still pretty cold from the rain and I thought- ..." "Uuuuhh-" His eyes went back to them still holding hands.  " I-I mean. I-Its ok if y-you don't want to. " She let go of his hand- "What?! NO NO!" She froze when he regrabbed her hand and looked back into his eyes. He seemed to freeze for a moment himself. "I-....I mean I d-don't mind it. I just...Im not sure if you would want to." ...She smiled. "Well I wouldn't have asked if I wasn't ok." "Oh. W-Well...Who am I t-t-to deny a request from a friend?" She smiled again, before shifting over to make room for another, patting the spot next to her. He hesitated for a moment but gulped down what worries he had left and slowly lifted the blankets, before climbing in. He sat there for a moment un sure, but his face lit up like a million christmas lights when he felt Frisk reassuringly huddle up against his side. He swallowed, hard, before allowing himself to lay back and lay a shaking arm around her. In response she shifted to lay into him more and sighed in comfort. It looked like she wasn't the only one who had it bad. Frisk was getting more and more tired by the second but decided to be polite in her heavily sleeping state and sat back up making him look at her. "Asriel?" "Y-Yes- HMPH!!" "Thank you." Blurred by her sleep. Frisk mistakingly gave him a peck on the lips instead of the cheek but she didn't notice as she laid back down against him as he just sat there long ears and face jaw dropped and a bright pretty pink color.

@friskrielweek

[geffenrecords]

ALRIGHT TELL ME UR OPINIONS ON SANDER OR ILL SHATTER U 💕💕 sorry I cant help myself I’m miss him :(((

ugh fine okay kinnie (no jk thank u for the ask)

favorite thing about them: hmmm. i rlly liked his aesthetic in s3. since he has brown hair now i feel like his Vibes have changed. wear the bleached denim and muted colors now sir. i also like how hes so excited over small things?? like how happy he got in the grocery store when the david bowie song came on, or his small smirk when he watches robbe do things. u know tht robbe could be doing anything n sander would sit there and be like gently watches and smiles cause yknow. gay ppl.

least favorite thing about them: uhm. idk lmao. im not a sander stannie, so like, i dont really focus on him a lot?? im just gonna say how he kissed britt in da club when he and robbe lit rally got gay bashed just the night b4. um. okay sir what the fuck was that. 

favorite line: lines ig but when he sang the christmas song with milan

brOTP: i think noor and sander would be good friends?? art shool hoes smh. i think that sander w The Boys has potential, but overall ?? not rlly anyone i can see it with.

OTP: robbe n sander baybie!!! i know ive talked abt how in love they r with you and my moon and sun sobbe rant,,, but i honestly just love their dynamic. s3 was so fucking good i need to rewatch it and also i miss being a skam stannie on main. anyway they both saved each other and they do stupid shit together like walk the streets at night and their breaths are in the air so they blow clouds on each other and then they kiss under the streetlamps and sander points out where they first kissed and robbe says something snarky about how no break-ins tonight and pulls him along and sander does his small smile bc he loves this boy so much

nOTP: um. probably sander and britt. i dont think sander x [someone whos not robbe] is very popular but. i dont like it either.

random headcanon: ummm [thinking emoji].... probably tht he loves the way robbe feels. and i dont mean in a horn knee way, i mean like sander just likes to feel robbe next to him, or he loves the way his littol hands feel in his, how theyre always cold and soft and he kisses them which always makes robbe giggle so then he’ll kiss robbes face and robbe giggles some more and sander does his Smile. he just like holding robbe too. laying on his chest or tummy when he has a big hoodie on or vise versa. idk they just love each other so much what can ya do. ALSO in his first appearance....idk if it was just me but he looked really tan so i hc as like. mixed race maybe????? idk skamverse needs more poc anyway fuck u

unpopular opinion: ummm. i dont think he hates britt. he deff doesnt like her, but i dont think he holds any resentment against her. 

song i associate with them: oh jeez.....ummm............fake happy by paramore reminds me of the hotel scenes kinda?? if tht makes sense but ig for just in general....sweather weather by the neighborhood or happy pills by weathers. the boyce avenue cover of glad you came is....very sobbe too.....

favorite picture of them: either one of these

[xavierplym]

#1 with peter where she's with someone else but he knows that she's really in love with peter and convince her to go after what she wants

#1 “I know you’re in love with him”

“And now that it’s over, I’ll never be sober!” You and Peter scream to the lyrics in the middle of the living room at the house party everyone has seemed to be invited to. You weren’t expecting to see Peter tonight, you weren’t even expecting to be at the party tonight, but here you are.

Originally, you were here with your boyfriend, Jason. Who you love, of course you do but things haven’t been great these past few months. Since he was accepted to the college he wanted to go to, both of you have been going sour without even knowing. He’s going to be miles from you and you both knew it would be a struggle to make it work but you both don’t have the guts to say it, so. Instead of getting the balls to mention anything, you both decided to go to a party and get black out drunk.

You turn to look at your boyfriend who was standing next to you, but there’s now an empty space. You stand straight and drunkly look around, you look confused. 

“Yo, you good?” Peter touches your arm to grab your attention and you whip your hair over your shoulder to look at him, causing him to giggle while he takes a swig of his drink, “Where did Jason go?” Peter pulls away from his drink and raises a brow, looking confused himself and shrugs his shoulders. You pull a face and huff, knowing he probably went to the bathroom but you decided to find him. Before leaving you take Peter’s cup out of his hand and take a swig, “Hey!” before he can grab it back you step away, giving him a friendly wink and walk off to find your boyfriend.

You’ve literally walked around the whole building at this point and still no sign of Jason, finding a friend you grab her shoulder and laugh at her shocked expression and the spillage of her drink.

“Have you seen my boo, honey?” She laughs at your slur of words but suddenly takes a breath before looking over your shoulder. You laugh and turn to look to where her gaze is.

Your laughter stops.

Taking a breath you take in the sight that you see, Jason’s face far too close to a girl, who oddly enough you don’t know. Getting more annoyed, you act on impulse and walk over to the pair.

You fake a bright smile when the pair locks eyes with yours, Jason’s eyes suddenly becoming frightened. 

“Y/n…”

“Let’s go for a talk, shall we, Jason?” you remain calm, not wanting to make a scene, but the girl’s screwed up face causes you to glare at her. “Don’t test me.” Not breaking contact with the girl’s returned glare, you grab Jason’s arm and pull him to your direction and head into the back yard.

-

You cross your arms and roll your eyes at Jason, “C’mon, Jason. I know things haven’t been the same, but that doesn’t mean you need to act like an ass. You’re not one of those guys.”

He had the guts to look offended.

“What do you mean, haven’t been the same?” you gawk at him and stand straighter, “Don’t act dumb.” he huffs and runs his hands through his hair.

“Y/n, you know I wouldn’t cheat on you.”

“I’m not saying you did.” You quickly respond with a shrug of the shoulders and he rolls his eyes at your sarcasm.

The whole conversation is filled with eye rolls and passive aggressive remarks. Having enough, you laugh and shake your head. “Look, I don’t have time for this. If this is what you want you should just break up with me -”

“Look, I know you’re in love with him.” his words makes you freeze, subconsciously knowing what he’s talking about.

“Um, w-what?” your breathing becomes deep as you feel guilt flush over you. Jason’s expression becomes soft with slight hurt.

“Peter… I know.” He remains short as he looks to his feet, trying to not make his emotions show.

“Jason, I -”

“Y/n, we both clearly know this isn’t going to work out and that’s not just from what’s just happened. Ignore that!” you sigh and your face saddens, “I’m moving miles away, we’re both doing our own thing and we have so much to do. As individuals.” He continues, feeling your lip lightly quiver, you feel his hand touch your upper arm.

“Hey listen, I’m not mad. I get it, there’s a lot of history there.” he meets your gaze and shrugs, “and lets be honest, at least it’s Peter and not some random asshole.” He softly laughs as he tries to cheer you up.

You frown and look to the floor, in response Jason brings you closer. “I’ve known you since the beginning of high school and out of everything, we have the most amazing friendship that we can be honest with each other.” You nod, knowing he’s speaking genuine. “You need to go after what you want.” you gaze up at him and he gives you a sad smile. You go to respond but Jason softly cups your face. “I love you,” he leans down and gives you a soft peck, “But I love you being happy and I know I don’t go that anymore.” 

You’re both looking tearfully at each other at this point and all you can do is pull him into a hug, knowing it’s come to an end.

-

Walking back into the party, you’re filled with a mix of emotions and the temptation to cry. But following on the words your new ex has told you, ‘You need to go after you want.’ You’re not going to wait.

Seeing Peter from across the room with a bunch of friends, you don’t hesitate to walk over, the group of guys look in your direction if a confused drunk state and you slightly laugh, wiping a tear away. Peter steps forward in concern and you simply nod your head in the direction of the door, silently asking him to follow you.

Once outside, you take a deep breath, trying to figure out how and what to say to the man in front of you who’s giving you an intense stare.

“Me and Jason broke up.” Peter’s face went from soft to stern in a matter of seconds and looks around in hope to find the guy, “Hey, no.” You grab his arm and step closer, “He went home.”

“y/n, what the fuck? Are you okay?” He looks down at you with furrowed brows and a frown, you sigh and shrug once again. Sighing with you he lightly cups your face. “What’s going on?” You lean into his hand and smile.

“Look, it hasn’t been the same for a while and we both knew that. We just both didn’t have the balls to say anything.” You can’t help but laugh slightly whereas Peter doesn’t find it so funny but lets you carry on, “We both knew we fell out of love quite a while ago, but yknow…” you trail off and look to the ground, getting nervous.

hand still on your face, he slowly pulls your face to look at him again, in hope you’ll talk. “He said some wise words -” He snorts slightly, “That’s a first.” You both laugh kindly thinking of Jason’s dim moments. 

“He told me to go for what I wanted.” You admit, flush going across your cheeks. Peter’s face becomes slightly confused but then comes to a conclusion as he catches on to what you’re saying. 

He lightly smiles and brings his hand to your lower back, “Y/n…” 

“It’s always been you, Peter.” You look at him tenderly as you see the blush come across his cheeks.

(excuse me, silently sobbing here)

[storieswritteninthesand]

So, I got tagged by @goonlalagoon​ a while back, and am currently procrastinating hard enough to have unburied it from my extreme back-log of likes, so here goes!

1. What is the favourite item of clothing you own?

Most of my favourite clothing is more sentimental than functionality related. So, like, my PE jumper from highschool, or Year 12 rugby jumper? Or I love getting to wear my U/11s netball shirt. I do really like the Gryffindor top I bought last year also, and the op-shop skirt I bought for my recent trip is so much fun to wear because it’s so swishy - it’s not exactly ~stylish~ but it makes me happy.

2. Tell me about the first time you watched your favourite movie?

This is mean because it assumes I know what my favourite movie is... My default response is The Sound of Music, but I don’t know when I first watched it, my earliest memory is from when I was like, 2 or 3 and by then The Sound of Music was already just an interwoven piece of my life so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ .

Alternatively, I went to see Moana with my sister just after New Years at the local cinema.

3. What was the last book you finished?

Deadly, Unna? by Phillip Gwynne, which I pulled off the shelves at a friend’s place in Darwin. It was.... interesting and upsetting for primarily contextual reasons, but a worthwhile read. If she’d had the sequel, I’d have read it too, because it was uncomfortable place to leave the characters.

(And just now I’ve noticed that goodreads suggests Juggling with Mandarins as a ‘readers also enjoyed’ which... spot on, my algorithmic friend).

4. What is the next book you want to read?

I actually have a real longing to go back and reread Tortall - it’s been too long. Unusually, it’s the Trickster books that are haunting my mind at the moment, so I might mix things up and start there. Plus! New books I have consumed yet :DD (Spy’s Guide and Tempest and Slaughter both) just gotta write another 4 assignments first. one more week.

5. When is your birthday, and what do you want for it this year? (If your birthday has already happened this year, did you get what you had your heart set on?)

Feb 6. Um, I don’t even remember what I did, let alone what I got tbh. I’m not foolish enough to set my heart on anything that’s actually achievable so (: Books are good, and will be enjoyed when I get as far as reading them. I think I was pretty disappointed not to receive any chocolate?

6. If you were given one month and $10,000, where would you travel to?

Right now? Straight back to where I was living this past 5 weeks. I’d feel bad squatting there for a month though, so I’d probably stretch out, bring a friend or two along, and swing by like Uluru or the Kimberley or something too. There’s still so much of Australia I want to see.

7. Cake or pie?

Cake is tasty, but just not as filling or satisfying as a really good apple pie. More easily accessible though, which is perhaps why.

8. Name 3 things you think you’re really good at.

1) I’m going with loving, because that’s why I’m finding life so hard atm. I really don’t seem to have favourites, because I just love them all.

2) I’m actually pretty good at netball? Like, I’ll never play for Australia, but I’m pretty confident I could make the German team :P

3) Improvising, and faking confidence and competence while I’m at it. It’s a useful skill, if a frustrating one.

9. Name 3 things you’d like to be better at.

1) Social interactions.

2) Keeping in touch with people

3) Feelings

10. Name 3 far-fetched dreams you’d like to do someday.

I’m scared of far-fetched dreams. Like, I totally hear the ‘if you don’t have a dream, how you gonna have a dream come true’ thing, but having far-fetched dreams, let alone articulating them makes me feel incredibly vulnerable: “here is what I want most in the world, let me give you an instruction manual on how to destroy me”.

11. If you had to dye your hair, what colour would you dye it?

I’d love to do like that dip-dye thing that was cool a decade ago? Pink would be fun. Or blue, purple, green, whatever. I’ve been idly meaning to for a few summers now, but... spoons and courage, yknow?

If you’d like to participate, feel free! I’m tagging @theowlisthelimit @tienriu and @jackironsides if you’d like to, but also anyone who was hoping their name would be in that list. It’s you too.