#;ship: burning up ( Ｗａｒｒｅｎ ＆ Ｌｕｘｕ)

[roastyoualive-archive]

“ if you say that again the devil is gonna suck your toes in hell. “

“… I want a divorce.” 

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SMORCHED FOR NEW YEARS

He wasn’t much for parties. Never had been. He’d make an exception for this, though. His friends and his SO celebrating New Years’ in their own way. It was… Nice. Fun. He even felt himself relaxing for a change. He’s got one arm around ‘Xu’s shoulders (the other hand is occupied with a solo cup of cherry coke) as the countdown begins. … Relaxed though he may be, he’s not counting with them. Just watching and being in the moment is enough for him. 

Three, two, one… He’s about to sigh when he finds his mouth otherwise occupied. Of course, they’d talked about this before hand; ‘Xu was big on getting permission. (Warren always thought it was cute, and of course made sure to return the courtesy.) In spite of that, he was still almost surprised. Almost surprised, and absolutely flustered. 

“… Happy New Year.”

(Smooth, Peace; real smooth.)

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keyraised replied to your post ““ if you say that again the devil is gonna suck your toes in hell. “”

ummm they legalized gay marriage not gay divorce? ur stuck w him

He’s becoming a supervillain to illegally gay divorce his toe-sucking husband

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Reporter: So when did you two become a couple?

Ignition: Oh, ages ago. There was just a-

Hellraiser: Oh my god.

Ignition: Spark between us.

Hellraiser: Oh my GOD.

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keyraised

  Will and Warren are the new undefeated champions...

WE LOVE A CLEVER BOYFRIEND

He’s got a rep to keep up. And part of that rep involves not blushing. ‘Xu you’re making it VERY DIFFICULT--

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PAPA PEACE (i will not write d*ddy too cursed)

Send Daddy to meet my muse’s father Y’know what that’s valid || Accepting

He can tell he’s not what this young man was expecting. He has his arms crossed loosely, casually, as he leans against the door frame. He’d cleaned up a bit since prison. Hair cut, new clothes, shave. (Losing the paper shirt had been very satisfying.) He had to imagine that after eight years, and lacking the armor, he didn’t exactly look like a supervillain, any more. But, word would spread. And if Baron knew about this young man, chances are that he knew about Baron. He let his head tilt to the side.

On the one hand, Warren seemed quite fond of him. They treated each other well and made each other happy.

On the other hand, that was his son they were talking about. He was allowed to be protective, wasn’t he?

He thought so. 

But he’d be nice, for now. As long as Warren was happy, Baron would respect his wishes. He was old enough to make his own choices.

So, after an appraising once-over, and a raised brow, the former villain forces himself to play nice, flashes a smile, extends a hand. 

“You must be Luxu. Warren’s told me so much about you - Come on in, we’re just getting dinner on.” 

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he’s forgotten how to cry. luxu is completely silent, holding the newspaper like he can squeeze a different answer out of it. five obituaries, five funerals, and one lone survivor. five heroes dead, and five kids gone before they could even graduate. luxu’s still in the hospital, and though in he can see warren’s hand on his, he doesn’t feel it. (1/2)

“ he knew. “ luxu says softly, tone unusually dark. “ he set us up. “ there comes a point in every super’s life where they make a decision: right or wrong. good or evil. heel or face. luxu sits on the edge of that precipice and judges the length of the drop. 2/2

He… Doesn’t know what to say. It’s terrible. It’s beyond reason. He only holds on tighter, squeezes his hand, stares at the newspaper. 

“I’m sorry.”  It… It wasn’t enough. Nothing would be enough. But what other words could he offer? What else could he do? He doesn’t know. He has no idea. All he can think is to reach out, carefully wrap his arm around Luxu’s shoulders, and pull him close.

It still doesn’t feel like enough. 

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“ hey babe, “ luxu greeted, something squirming under his coat. they’re old enough that warren’s working at a law firm and luxu has a steady job as a nurse practitioner, and old enough that they’ve got their own apartment. it can be a bit of a fixer-upper, but it’s their’s. “ if i hypothetically found a stray cat who’s like, super friendly and an angel, would you be mad if we kept it? “

He glances up from the file he’s brought home. There’s dinner in the oven, and he glances up every paragraph or so to make sure it’s going well. Even he can’t un-burn things. But, he’s always been a good cook, and he’s determined not to let that reputation slip. 

He’d just been peeking into the oven when the door opened.

“Hey,” he began, then stopped. Listened to the question and tried not to be too aware of how his face fell further and further into an exhausted, exasperated, and completely ‘done’ expression that was almost second nature.

“… Why are you like this?”

(Well, he’s not saying no.)