#'it could always be worse so stop complaining' or if i am visibly upset at all all that matters is it's inconveniencing or upsetting to the

[yuribalisms]

promise this is my last time bitching about all of this ignore it but

[azriels-shadowsinger]

you should totally do number 12 with az or rhys 🥺

“When have you ever cared?” “I’ve always cared.”

Azriel x Reader

wc: 2k

a/n: i always love a good rivals to lovers story. warning: descriptions of blood and injuries.

prompt list

You hate Azriel. Absolutely hated him. You hate his cocky attitude, you hate the way he never wants you on missions, you hate the way girls seem to fawn over him at Rita’s, and most of all, you hate the way that you can’t stop being attracted to him. Which made the current situation worse, because you were having trouble focusing on training when Azriel was shirtless and sweaty sparring with Cassian across the ring.

After the fifth time of you getting knocked onto the floor by your sparring partner after getting distracted, Emerie eventually gave up on you.

“How are you supposed to be ready for your mission tomorrow if you are so unfocused?” she laughed.

“I’ll be fine. I do-“ You stop speaking when you feel a shadowy presence lurk over you.

“Can I help you Azriel?” You ask sarcastically, turning to face him.

“You’re not going.” Azriel replied gruffly.

“Excuse me?” You scoff.

“I said you’re not going on the mission.” You roll your eyes. Of course he would try to keep you off of yet another mission. You had prepared for that and got Rhysand to personally ensure that you could go this time.

“Take that up with Rhys. He said I’m going.” You say with a victorious smirk.

“We’ll see about that.” He grumbles, storming off towards Rhysand’s office. You wait patiently with a smug smile on your face, pretending to be preoccupied with sharpening your daggers, as he returns.

“You will not do anything without my say so. You will not stray from the mission at all, under any circumstances. If I give an order, you follow it. Do you understand?” He spits angrily, obviously upset over Rhysand’s decision.

“Whatever you say, spymaster. I’ll see you at 6 AM to head out.” You say smugly and turn to leave.

———

You meet Azriel the next morning, and he is already visibly agitated. After an overly detailed discussion of the mission plan, he winnows the two of you to the mission spot.

Azriel made sure to reiterate the plan again once you arrived, earning an annoyed eyeroll at the implied lack of faith in your skills. The plan was that he would infiltrate the safe house, capture the enemy, and extract him from the building to bring him back for interrogation. You were only there to help carry the unconscious body, apparently. You reluctantly agree to the plan, realizing that arguing would get you nowhere. At least you were allowed to join this time.

“I’ll be back in fifteen minutes. Be ready to winnow.” He whispers before disappearing into the shadows.

Fifteen minutes passed. Then twenty. Then thirty. After forty minutes, you were fully convinced something had gone horribly wrong.

Fuck it. You didn’t care if he got pissed, you’re going in to check that everything is okay.

You move closer to the building and peek into the window. No movement. You sneak closer to the door, slipping inside inconspicuously. Upon entering, you begin to scan the area for any signs of Azriel. You walk further inside turning the corner, and that’s when you see it: blood on the floor, and Truthteller lying discarded next to it. That cannot be a good sign, you think while trying to shove your panic down deep. You quickly pick up the abandoned blade and examine the area closer, following the trail of blood and the sound of voices through the halls. When you finally reach a large room, you see exactly what you were afraid of. Azriel is bound against the wall unconscious and bloody. The target is watching him while conversing with someone, twirling a knife in his hand.

“Just kill him already.” The other fae complains.

“No. Do you not realize who this is, you imbecile? This is the spymaster of the High Lord. Once Rhysand realizes he is missing, he will come try to rescue him, and then we can finally take that undeserving half-breed out. Hopefully, he brings the general, and we can kill the bastard too. Only then will I kill the shadowsinger, but not until we get to have our fun with him. I’m sure there are some juicy secrets of the court we can carve out of him.” You feel nauseated at the sickening grin on the male’s face.

Your duty is to this court, and cannot allow Rhysand and Cassian to be put in danger over this. Nor can you sit by and watch Azriel be tortured by this cruel, idiotic male. Idiotic because he didn’t use magical bindings to lock Azriel up, allowing his shadows to roam free. They circle their master, obviously frantic that he cannot hear them.

A small shadow darts towards you, and soon the rest follow. The shadows swirl around you, expectantly, going completely unnoticed by the two males.

“Um, I’m not entirely sure if you can understand me, but I have a plan. If you all could make it very dark in here, that would be great.” You ask awkwardly, hoping the shadows understand. They apparently do, because soon the entire room goes dark, except for the path between you and Azriel.

“What the- hey!” You hear the other male yell and footsteps run towards you. Unable to see through the shadows, you throw a dagger towards the noise. Without checking to see if you hit your target, you hurry to free Azriel from his chains. Once his hands are free, you grab onto him and attempt to winnow.

Winnowing long distances was always a challenge for you, you’re not sure why. What takes others a single jump takes you five. You hold tightly to Azriel and try to winnow. The world around you begins to fade, turning into blackness. Before the sight can completely fade, however, you see a knife come hurdling towards you, landing directly in your thigh.

The sudden burning pain causes you to lose focus, and the world abruptly reappears around you, causing both you and Azriel to land face first in the dirt of a random forest.

“Fuck!” You yell in pain. Either the fall or the sound of your yelling seems to have roused Azriel because you hear faint grumbling beside you before he falls unconscious again. As you attempt to stand, searing pain shoots down your leg from the wound in your thigh. You bite your lip, trying to ignore the stabbing ache. Now is not the time to focus on your pain. You need to get the two of you to safety, you remind yourself. You pull the blade out from your leg with a cry. Once you compose yourself again, you wrap a piece of cloth torn from your shirt around your leg to stop the bleeding. You grab ahold of Azriel again and attempt to winnow, but for some reason, you can’t. That’s when you notice the faint green tinge on the discarded blade.

“Gods damned faebane.” You curse lowly. You won’t be winnowing anywhere for a while. It’s likely in Azriel too, meaning you two are stuck. Great.

———

It took over an hour to drag the giant Illyrian through the forest, finally finding an abandoned cabin. By the time you reach it, you feel lightheaded from the blood loss and from hauling Azriel. There is absolutely no way you could lift him, so once he is safely inside on the floor, you search the cabin for first aid materials. You find a roll of gauze and a bottle of liquor. That will have to do, you think.

You manage to bite your tongue through the pain of cleaning and dressing your wound and begin to work on Azriel’s. As soon as the alcohol-soaked cloth touches his cut, the male jolts up in a panic. One quick look around at the unfamiliar cabin and you tending to his injuries, and Azriel freaks.

“What the hell happened? Where are we? Are you bleeding?” He fires on a string of questions, one after another.

“Breathe. We’re okay. You got captured, not entirely sure how honestly, and I had to save your ass. We are waiting here until the faebane leaves our systems.” You try to sound calm, but that doesn’t stop your racing heart. Azriel thinks for a moment, looking around the cabin. His eyes land on the bloody bandaged wound on your thigh again, and he immediately becomes angry.

“You came in after me?” He barks.

“Uh, yeah?” You ask, confused at his anger.

“You disobeyed a direct order!” Azriel growls.

“You were in trouble!” Why the hell are you having to defend yourself for saving him?

“I don’t care. You should’ve followed orders. I would’ve gotten myself free eventually.” He snaps. You huff in annoyance.

“You stupid arrogant male, they were going to torture you! And then use you to lure Rhys and Cass and kill them too! How the hell was I supposed to sit by and let that happen?” You scream angrily. He attempts to stand, wincing at the pain. You want to tell him that he should stay sitting, but it’s unlikely that he will listen.

“You should’ve stayed outside.” He growls, stalking closer.

“You would be dead if I did that!” You stare him down in defiance.

“Yeah, but you wouldn’t have gotten hurt!” That makes you pause. Is that why he’s angry, you wonder.

“Despite what you may think about my skills, I’m perfectly capable of withstanding a minor injury from a mission!” You argue.

“You shouldn’t have to.” He spits coldly.

“Since when do you care what happens to me?” You scoff.

“I’ve always cared.” His voice drops to being barely audible and he turns away. You freeze.

“What?”

“Nevermind. I’m gonna start a fire while we wait.” He grumbles. You walk around him to face him, blocking the fireplace.

“No, what did you mean you’ve always cared? You hate me. Everyone knows it.” You ask hesitantly. This must be some new attempt to embarrass you or something, you rationalize.

“I’ve never hated you.” He whispers, avoiding eye contact by staring at the floor.

“I don't understand. Then why do you always keep me out of missions? Why do you ignore me any time I try to be nice?” You ask angrily.

“I… fuck.” He runs his hand through his hair before looking you in the eyes. “I couldn’t stand the thought of you getting hurt. Either from missions or by me.” The last words come out quieter than the rest. “I thought that ignoring you and keeping you off missions would keep you kept you at a safe distance. I didn’t want to risk you being targeted just because of how I feel about you.” Your eyes soften at the admission.

“That wasn’t your decision to make. I get to decide what is worth the risk for me.” You say in a gentler tone. Azriel looks at the floor again, shaking his head.

“You don’t get it. Today is a perfect example. The people in my life that I care about are constantly at risk.”

“Did I not handle myself?” You ask, causing him to sigh.

“That isn’t the point. You don’t-“ You cut him off, pressing a kiss to his lips. Azriel stands frozen for a second, before quickly wrapping his hands into your hair and holding you closer. “Fuck it.” He mumbles while kissing you, backing you into the wall.

It’s safe to say that you and Azriel found very good use of your time while you waited for the faebane to wear off.

———

Rhysand was less than thrilled to hear about the unsuccessful mission when you returned. After you two showed him what happened, obviously leaving out what happened at the cabin, the three of you made a plan to go back and capture the two males. Azriel tried to argue about you going, but one stern look from you and he quickly shut up.

“Well, it seems like you two sorted out your issues.” Rhys laughs, not noticing Azriel’s smirk.

prompt list

tag list: @fxckmiup

[beca-mitchell]

little taste of heaven (i'm caught up in you) (1/1)

Summary: now i see daylight AU - Beca and Chloe’s first date, finally. 

Word count: 3.9k

For @anna-kendrick​: We've worked on this universe for the past year and holy, it means the world to both of us that you guys love Beca and Chloe as much as we do. Thank you so much for the encouragement and love, always.And of course, again, thank you to Josi who is an incredibly talented artist. Look at this art.

title from "untouchable (taylor's version)" though I did heavily consider using "our song"...i just liked the energy of untouchable a bit more.

Read below or on AO3!

* * * * *

AGE: 15/16 LOCATION: Brookline, MA MONTH: June

 * * * * *

 It is finally June. The warm air is only a hint of better things to come. Like the last day of school before total freedom.

Beca smiles at Chloe as she nears Beca’s locker. “Hey,” she greets. “Good practice?”

Around them, students mill about excitedly, cleaning out their lockers and making plans for the summer to come. Chloe shrugs, hair clearly still damp from her shower. “I don’t know why we keep running through practices when we have no more games for the season.”

“Got to keep the regional champions in top shape,” Beca teases. “Keep the other teams on their toes.”

“But I’m tired,” Chloe complains. She leans heavily on a neighboring locker. “Since it's the last day of school, will you come over tonight for dinner? My parents are whining about how they haven’t seen you in a while.”

Beca clears her throat, thinking about how the last time she had gone over to Chloe’s house had been when Chloe and Tom broke up...at the end of April. Over a month ago. She had gone because Chloe had been crying and upset. She had gone because even if her body ached with the anxiety of not knowing where she and Chloe stood, she and Chloe were always going to be friends first. Best friends.

Best friends who felt something more than friendship for each other. Confirmed, real feelings. Feelings that made them want to kiss each other.

Feelings that they hadn’t yet talked about. Or acted on despite both of them being extremely single at the moment.

Hell, Chloe's birthday came and went a couple weeks ago without much fanfare. Beca had been too shy to do anything remotely romantic and they ended up going to a movie with a few friends before going to an arcade.

“Bec?”

Beca nods stiltedly, pretending to contemplate her now-empty locker a bit more before turning to face Chloe. She steadies herself with a quick breath. “I’d love nothing more.”

 * * * * *

 Beca stares at her reflection with some trepidation.

“It’s just Chloe,” she mutters to herself, eyes tracking over every crease in the skirt she has picked out. Maybe I should go with jeans, she thinks. But it’s gross and hot out today.

She isn’t even sure why she’s nervous. It just feels like a return to normalcy of sorts, but Beca’s pretty sure that now that she knows what it feels like to kiss Chloe and what it feels like, a little bit at least, to know that Chloe feels somewhat similarly to her. It’s different. In a good way. Maybe it’s different in a scary way.

She isn’t even sure she can bring up the topic with her mother, so that’s an added layer of uncertainty: it’s additionally anxiety-inducing not knowing how her mother will react.

It’s well past the time that Beca should have already walked out the door to head next door by the time she actually forces herself out of her bedroom and down the stairs, but she figures Chloe will understand. And dinner is rarely ever prepared at the exact time stated in the Beale household anyway. Beca’s not too worried. Just nervous.

She finally reaches out to press the doorbell.

Chloe opens the door almost immediately. “Thought you got lost,” she teases.

“Were you just waiting behind the door?” Beca asks quickly, allowing Chloe to grab her wrist and pull her over the threshold.

“And if I was?” Chloe shoots back, offering Beca a lazy smile, playful in nature. With an underlying hint of something else.

Beca blinks the surprise away. “I wouldn’t be complaining if you were waiting for me. Just sorry I kept you waiting,” she offers.

“Dinner’s not ready anyway,” Chloe says, as Beca expected. They breeze past the living room area, taking a mild detour past the kitchen and towards the back porch. “I might have told you a slightly earlier time because I wanted to talk to you about something,” Chloe says lightly.

“Should I say hi to your parents?” Beca asks worriedly before it registers what Chloe just said. “Wait, what? Talk to me about what?”

“Come sit with me,” Chloe says instead. Patiently. She gestures towards the tree - the tree they used to play under all the time as children - nestled in the corner of the backyard.

It’s one of Beca’s favorite spots.

She follows Chloe, wondering if it’s too late to run home and change into her jeans because she’s sure the grass and sticks will prick at her skin, but she’s surprised, as they near, that there is a small blanket laid out underneath.

Chloe had planned for this.

“Please sit,” Chloe offers. She sits comfortably, patting the spot next to her. “I had a feeling you’d dress up a little. Didn’t want you to get a dress dirty.” Her eyes drift down to Beca’s skirt briefly before she lifts her eyes, smiling at Beca. Beca doesn’t feel self-conscious, shockingly. She feels content. Safe.

Maybe a little warm if anything, but she knows that’s probably the proximity to the girl she’s been crushing on for the longest time.

“I...wanted to talk to you because we haven’t...really talked. About...y’know.” A hint of nervousness creeps into Chloe’s voice. “When we kissed and then Tom…” she hesitates. “We just didn’t get to talk about anything. And now the school year’s pretty much over, so I thought…”

“Right,” Beca agrees quickly. Her palms begin to sweat. She sure as hell hopes Chloe doesn’t expect her to lead this conversation. It was mortifying enough the first time around when she had basically laid everything on the line while Chloe was still dating somebody else. When Chloe had left her with nothing more than a heartfelt, vulnerable don’t give up on me. Then she had broken up with Tom and that was all their school could talk about for weeks.

And now this. Somehow Beca survived all of that while slowly making sure her friendship with Chloe survived as well. They both made sure of that.

“I like you,” Chloe declares. “I mean...I think I always did. Like you, I mean. As more than a friend. But the feelings were really confusing.”

“I get it,” Beca says a little too quickly. “I’m sorry,” she murmurs, laughing a little when Chloe smiles at her. “I feel like I haven’t stopped thinking about this for a while. But I never wanted you to feel pressured to talk about this with me even though we kissed.” She ignores the way her voice totally cracks over that last word.

“I never felt pressured,” Chloe assures her gently. “I am so...grateful that you’re in my life. I didn’t want to mess this up. But I think we should...try.”

“Try?” Beca echoes.

Chloe blushes. Like a full-on blush that spreads across her cheeks, visible to Beca even in the dying daylight. It makes her cheeks rosy and Chloe even flinches at her own reaction. “Dating,” she says simply once she seems to regain control of her emotions. “I want to go on dates with you. And hold your hand. And more kissing! If that’s what you want.”

Beca’s sure that her heart explodes somewhere in her chest because she suddenly finds it very difficult to control various parts of her body. She can’t control the smile that spreads across her face and the following, matching blush in her cheeks. It heats through her face with ease. And even worse, she can’t control the way her hand comes up to her mouth as if to instinctively cover her smile because somehow being thrilled that her crush is basically asking her out making her body react in embarrassing ways.

Chloe laughs at her, not a hint of malice in her laugh. Just joy. “I take that as a yes. Thank God, I wasn’t sure how I was going to convince my parents to move away.”

Beca rolls her eyes. Finally. Teasing. She can do that. “You wouldn’t be able to leave me. You like me too much.”

Chloe’s smile grows soft. “Well...yeah. I do. A lot.”

Beca’s breath catches. She’s sure she could kiss Chloe right now and the crazy part is, it wouldn’t even be totally weird. Or out there. Because they’re going to start dating. But maybe kissing Chloe again before their first date is frowned upon? Beca has no idea. She’s still only ever kissed one person and that person is sitting in front of her.

“Girls! Dinner!”

As if Chloe had been reading her mind and her intentions, Chloe shakes her head and stands, offering a hand to pull Beca up. When Beca stands, they’re somehow even closer - almost nose to nose - than they had been when they were sitting. “Saved by the bell,” Chloe whispers, breath close enough to be felt on Beca’s mouth.

 * * * * *

 The most interesting part is that Beca hadn’t really thought about any of this - dating Chloe - beyond just vague daydreams and fantasies about just some kind of happy utopia with Chloe by her side. It’s honestly not much different from their usual day-to-day considering how close they already are, but dating? Actual dating?

Her Google search history stares back at her accusingly.

dating tips dating best friend first date first date movies dating girl what to do

She supposes she could ask her mother, but even that brief thought makes her shrink away from her desk. Beca stands and begins pacing. She’s sure that she’s overthinking this all. That Chloe could probably care less about what they do on their first date. That Chloe’s probably just expecting them to spend time together, just the two of them. With more handholding. And maybe a kiss at the end of the night.

“Shit,” Beca mutters suddenly. She rushes back to her computer, adding another search to her list.

kiss on first date ok???

She frowns. Not quite.

kissing before first date acceptable

In the end, she is saved from her descent into a hole of online searching by a text from Chloe herself.

Chloe dinner tomorrow at south street? haven’t been downtown in a while

Beca i’m down!

The ease at which Beca replies does not at all reflect the somersaults in her stomach.

 * * * * *

 “Hey,” Chloe calls, putting her menu down. “Where’d you go just now?”

Beca blinks, realizing that she had glazed over the menu entirely, too wrapped up in her own thoughts. “Oh, just...contemplating…” her eyes land on the first item she sees. “Salad.” She can’t help the way her own nose wrinkles instinctively at the thought of eating salad.

Chloe is as intuitive as ever, smiling as she reaches across the table to touch Beca’s hand. “You hate salad. Especially here.”

Beca swallows, struck by both the normalcy and intimacy of Chloe’s touch. They’ve been friends for years—there is nothing extremely off-putting about them holding hands or even just randomly touching each other on the arm, shoulder, knee.

And yet—

Chloe draws her hand away, seemingly not at all aware of Beca’s inner turmoil this time. She refocuses on her menu. “Want me to order something for you?” she asks instead.

Beca nods, though she is surprised. “Sure.” Now she’s curious as to what Chloe will order for her. And if she’s being honest, it kind of makes her feel giddy, the thought of Chloe knowing her well-enough to order something. Not that Beca would even bother with telling Chloe that she’s wrong. She’d eat anything at this point, just to spend more time with Chloe.

It’s not even like they’re at a fancy restaurant. It’s a diner downtown. The bright retro designs all around plus the comfortable, plush booth seats are all appealing to Beca and she likes the general atmosphere.

But she kind of wants to just…

“Can I sit next to you?” she blurts out. Immediately, she clamps her mouth shut, resisting the urge to avoid Chloe’s curious gaze, which lifts to meet hers immediately.

Chloe grins. “I would want nothing more. Get over here.”

Beca nearly sags in relief, but focuses instead on moving around the booth so she and Chloe are sitting closer, now on side of the booth.

Beca focuses on the frequent piece of advice she had found through a few somewhat reliable Google results.

Hold her hand.

Beca does. She inches her pinky across the cool vinyl seats until she can feel Chloe’s against her finger. Then, she slips her hand over Chloe’s, gently hooking her fingers on Chloe’s palm until Chloe gets the idea.

Chloe’s hand flips slowly, their palms touching. Beca exhales, sliding her fingers between Chloe’s, already liking the easy, comfortable fit of their hands.

Chloe says nothing, content to enjoy the silence and familiarity just as Beca is content to allow her feelings to take over. For a moment, Chloe appears to be perusing the menu in silence, but there is a steadiness to the set of Chloe’s shoulders. Beca can tell, having been so attuned to Chloe’s characteristics for longer than she’d like to admit. For longer than even Chloe herself knows at this moment. She glances at her date—her date!—selfishly taking the moment to appreciate Chloe’s profile.

It’s something she has done so many times before, but this time...this time, in a diner outside of town with the soft clatter of dishes around them and Chloe’s soft, warm palm against her own, Beca knows this is different.

“You know,” Chloe starts awkwardly. “I...obviously don’t mind if you ordered on your own.”

Beca laughs. “Why’d you offer to then?”

“I don’t know,” Chloe says, exasperation in her voice. She groans and hangs her head slightly. “I asked Max and-”

“You asked your brother what to do on a date with me?”

“No!” Chloe explains before she snorts. “I just...told him I was worried about impressing a girl. And I don’t know why, but I somehow thought he’d have some idea.” She grins a little, glancing at Beca out of the corner of her eye. “Did it work?”

“Maybe a little,” Beca says distractedly. She’s more fixated on the fact that Chloe must have been truly desperate to have turned to her older brother for help.

“Oh and he totally guessed I was going out with you, by the way.”

That’s not something that thrills Beca too much. Her imagination immediately conjures up a comically exaggerated vision of Chloe’s brother threatening her with a knife. “How?” she asks. “What did he say?”

“Nothing, really. He just kind of guessed and then said ‘finally’ or something like that.”

“Well, thank you for offering to order for me. It was very...chivalrous of you.”

“Please stop.”

“Quite charming.”

“Beca.”

“I can’t wait to see what other moves you try on me. Are we going to share one milkshake?”

“...no?”

 * * * * *

 They end up ordering two separate milkshakes because Beca sticks to her vanilla and Chloe orders chocolate.

“Try,” Chloe commands. “You always get vanilla. Chocolate is so good.”

Beca sighs, but obediently sticks her straw into Chloe’s cup despite Chloe’s protests of “contamination” and quickly takes a sip just to shut Chloe up for the time being. It’s not horrible - Beca just isn’t the fan of how chocolate tastes in milkshake form, though she’s sure Chloe will claim there’s no difference if the milkshake were in a solid chocolate bar form instead.

However, she’s mildly distracted by the sudden proximity she and Chloe have between them. Chloe’s arm rests loosely over her shoulder, where she had put her arm when Beca leaned in to drink from Chloe’s cup. She can practically feel Chloe’s breath on her neck and her cheek.

It would be so easy to just turn and -

Beca shakes her head slightly and shifts back. Chloe takes a moment longer to slowly move her arm from around Beca’s shoulders.

“What?” Beca asks quietly, poking at her fries a little. She catches Chloe smiling at her affectionately.

“Nothing,” Chloe replies quickly. “Just...you smell nice. That’s all.”

 * * * * *

 “I guess it’s kind of convenient that we live together,” Beca remarks, trying not to think too hard about the way Chloe’s hand feels in her own. She winces. “Well. Not live together. But…you know. Live next to each other.”

Chloe tilts her head, smiling as they walk up the path towards their houses. “And why is that convenient?” she asks lightly.

Beca blushes. She hadn’t thought this far. “I’m…I don’t know. I was just…commenting. On the convenience.”

Chloe giggles, pulling Beca closer ever so slightly. Beca likes the way their arms press together. She likes holding Chloe’s hand. She likes lifting her other hand to curl against the bend of Chloe’s elbow.

She likes knowing that Chloe likes her—really likes her—and Chloe enjoyed their date and—and—

“This is you,” Chloe murmurs, stopping in front of Beca’s door.

Beca kind of doesn’t want the night to end. She wants to sit on the porch and talk to Chloe for a few more minutes. Maybe one more hour. Just to hear the sound of her voice and have her attention for a few moments longer.

“This is me,” Beca parrots, feeling a lot more nervous than she thinks she’s letting on. That was what people said in those movies adorning Chloe’s shelves, right? It was what the internet said. Normal first date cliches. She steps backwards, under the light of her front porch, still holding Chloe’s hand as she does so. Chloe hesitates for a moment like she wants to follow, but ultimately she simply squeezes Beca’s hand in understanding and drops her own hand away.

Beca is immediately disappointed. She hadn’t wanted that at all. She bites her lip, watching as Chloe awkwardly shuffles her feet before she glances back up at Beca. A soft, slow smile spreads across Chloe’s lips, gentle and affectionate all at once. It makes Beca’s heart pound ridiculously hard.

“I had fun,” Chloe whispers, like she’s afraid somebody else will hear her. But not because she's afraid of other people. Just afraid that their bubble will burst, like Beca is. Another step closer. Beca swallows. “Can we do that again?”

“You’d want to go on more dates?” Beca asks, just to clarify, even though she knows exactly what Chloe’s asking.

“I would love to go on more dates with you.”

“Me too,” Beca squeaks out. “I—um—”

Chloe’s smile stretches, somehow happier than before. “Goodnight Beca.”

Something in Beca snaps. She steps forward, just two small steps and calls out Chloe’s name. “Wait,” she adds hastily.

Chloe stops and turns, surprised.

“Can I—” Beca swallows, licking her suddenly dry lips. “Can I kis—”

She doesn’t get to finish her question before Chloe is covering the ground between them in two short strides, wrapping her hand around the back of Beca’s head, letting the other come up to Beca’s arm, and kissing her for all her worth.

Beca gasps in surprise into the kiss, hands coming up to Chloe’s shoulders, squeezing tightly. Gently and slowly, Chloe presses further into the kiss, her lips moving ever so lightly against Beca’s. It is so much more than their first kiss—a do-over, if anything—and Beca realizes, with a jolt, that this is something she can do now. She can kiss Chloe because Chloe likes her and Chloe went on a date with her. Chloe held her hand all night.

Chloe wants to kiss her too.

Beca hums happily at the thought, looping her hands behind Chloe’s neck. It feels instinctual even as Beca blushes at the sudden intensity of the kiss. She knows Chloe has kissed more people than she has; she knows Chloe will forever have more experience in this regard. But God, Beca thinks that she has never felt more wonderful or powerful than she does in this moment, tightening her grip on the fabric of Chloe’s light jacket.

Pulling back ever so slightly, Beca heaves a breath and rests her forehead against Chloe’s forehead. Chloe’s breathing is the tiniest bit labored as well. For a moment, neither of them dares to move, too afraid to break the spell between them.

Chloe is the first to smile—the first to press forward ever so slightly so their noses brush delicately. “What were you going to ask?” Chloe murmurs.

Beca swats her shoulder lightly. “You’re so weird,” she mumbles back, leaning in to steal just one more kiss from her beautiful, wonderful date.

 * * * * *

 When Beca reaches the solitude of her bedroom, she finally gets what all those high school romcoms were about. Showing their protagonist thrilled to finally finish a date so they can squeal and giggle and simply dream about their crush or date. It’s probably the first time that Beca has felt her energy rebound around her room with such happiness and positivity. The sensation is addicting—she honestly just wants to text Chloe all night.

Which, honestly, she could.

Chloe kissed her. Chloe kissed her because she likes her and they just went on a date. A freaking date.

A text from Chloe jolts her back to reality.

Chloe i miss you, is that weird?

Beca no because i miss you too. weirdo.

Chloe i have something else to tell you. that might be weird. Idk

Beca go for it.

Beca watches the text bubbles float in and out on her screen, like Chloe is typing a paragraph. Despite Chloe just saying that she missed her, Beca can’t help but feel nervous.

Chloe I just wanted you to know why i picked south street. it’s because. well. Remember when we first went there by ourselves without our parents. Sometime last year. With a few friends. And we all squeezed into that booth and sat there and shared fries and milkshakes and felt like we were at the top of the world because we were finally in high school or something stupid like that. I don’t even remember much about that night or who we were with but i do remember seeing the way you laughed at something and how your entire face lit up. and i remember thinking that i really liked you and how scary it was that i felt these things for you so suddenly and so much. Like a lot. but i’m so glad that we both got to this point - that we both feel the same way. I just really loved the way you looked when you laughed and i am so happy you’re in my life.

Chloe also i really like kissing you

Beca doesn’t even bother replying.

She shoves on her shoes again and rushes out the front door. She is only surprised to see Chloe sitting on her own front porch, staring worriedly at her phone.

“You really are so weird, y'know that?” She calls out, careful not to startle Chloe too much.

Chloe does jump anyway, but she sets her phone down quickly. “What are you doing?”

“Finishing this date off again that you confessed your big scary feelings. Through a text message.” Beca pretends to be annoyed as she stomps over to Chloe. “You couldn’t have said all that?”

“You make me nervous!” Chloe exclaims.

Beca shakes her head, mustering up all the courage she has in the world, pulling Chloe in for a kiss like she wanted to earlier before Chloe beat her to it.

“So much better,” Beca whispers, smiling when Chloe huffs quietly against her mouth.

It's the perfect end to the beginning Beca has been dreaming of all this time.

fin.

[sageinacage]

ok so fic idea uh. this clip but its ranboo teasing tubbo while chat cant hear <3

summary: tubbo’s OBS wasn’t picking up ranboo, so ranboo decided to have some fun with his friend a/n: there actually isn’t any tickling in this fic, it’s just ranboo being a teasy lil cockroach AHFJKSJH but also pt 2 of me loving the concept of them being in the t-community bc its wholesome  warnings: swearing w/c: 1.1k

IRL

~

Streaming with Ranboo was always fun; Tubbo and Ranboo loved to stream together and just mess around, having fun.

Though, those two loved to play with each other. A lot. Whenever one of them had the chance to playfully mock or bully the other, they took it. Now, Tubbo was having technical difficulties. His OBS wasn’t properly connected to his Discord audio, so no one could hear Ranboo.

Ranboo being Ranboo, had to take this to his advantage and mess with his best friend a little bit. What kind of a friend would he be if he didn’t?!

“They can’t hear you- but I can hear you now. So just-”

“Oh? Is that so?”

“...Sit your ass down for a second, I’m trying to fix things.”

Tubbo explained to Ranboo, choosing to ignore his friend’s obvious teasy tone. Ranboo chuckled softly into his mic, causing butterflies to erupt in Tubbo’s stomach as he shook his head, trying to ignore the feeling, as he was on stream.

“Now now, don’t be mean, Tubbo. You don’t want me to make things worse, do you now? Now hurry up and fix the audio before I ‘accidentally’ make you curl up on camera.” Ranboo asked, a smirk evident in his voice. “Give me a break, okay? I-I’m working on it!” He urged, clicking away on his keyboard.

“I am so going to abuse this, you aren’t even ready.” His friend laughed, enjoying the situation he was in, leaning back in his chair. “What do you mean you’re gonna abuse this?!” Tubbo nervously questioned, trying to make it seem like whatever Ranboo was doing wasn’t going to happen.

“I think you know, Tubs. You know how bad I’m going to tease you, you’ll be blushing your lil’ head off and giggling your heart out. Hmmm? Trying to hide your reactions, I see?” Ranboo continued leaning in closer to the mic just so he can softly chortle in it, knowing that it makes Tubbo flustered. “Why would you say th-that?! Stop!” He smiled to himself, looking away from the screen to compose himself.

“Say what? What did I say now?”

“Dude… shut up!” Tubbo complained, a few giggles escaping and a big smile still pulling at his lips. “Why should I? You seem to be happy! Hmmm? What’s wrong?” Ranboo spoke softly, laughing at Tubbo’s stuttering. “Y- stop! Please!” He whined, desperately trying to fix the audio so he didn’t break on stream.

“Thanks for the suggestion, but no. I think I wanna see you break.” He chuckled, softly cooing into his microphone at the slow blush growing on Tubbo’s cheeks. “Ssss-cease! A-Actually shuhut up!” The boy giggled out, trying to sound as angry as possible, but they both knew Tubbo was having fun.

“But why, Tubbo? I know how much you love this- how much you love to be teased and put into a little ticklish, giggly, and flustered pile. Don’tcha? Don’t lie to me, now!” Ranboo continued his relentless teasing, his friend shaking his head and beginning to chant out a bunch of ‘stop’s.

“You never said no, tickle bug.”

“I will write a twit longer!” Tubbo playfully threatened, an exaggerated gasp emitting from Ranboo. “That’s not very nice, maybe I should tell you what will happen to big bullies.” He threatened, cackling at Tubbo stuttering over his words.

“Okay, I’m about to add you to OBS so you better stop this!” Tubbo announced, Ranboo sighing. “I guess I’ll just have to continue my fun after the stream, yeah?”

Tubbo grumbled, adding him to the audio and taking a drink of water. “Did you like what I said while they couldn’t hear me?” Ranboo started, “‘cause I liked saying it, it was fun.”

This was going to be a long stream.

It was a few hours later until the stream finally ended, Ranboo forgetting what happened earlier but butterflies continuing to grow in Tubbo’s stomach the more he thought about it. “So, what was that?!” Tubbo exclaimed in mock-anger, Ranboo furrowing his eyebrow.

“Huh? What do you mean?”

“The… the OBS thing…”

“Ohhhh, yeah! That was so fun.” Ranboo chuckled to himself, Tubbo whining something. “Didn’t you say y-you were gonna… y’know… c-continue?” He muttered, the other audibly cooing at him.

“I’d love to, I can’t get enough of your giggles and lil’ noises anyways,” Ranboo explained, noticing Tubbo’s camera was still on as he saw him curl up on himself in his chair. “Awww, don’t curl up on me now, I wanna see your smile!” He jokingly whined, smiling to himself at Tubbo shaking his head.

A muffled ‘no!’ emitted from the curled up boy, Ranboo just ‘awww’ing at him. “Why not? Are you flustered? Are you flustered because you can feel my fingers dragging up your sides, hmmm? Do you feel the phantom tickles?” He continued to tease, his ‘victim’ crossing his arms over his face, but the blush was visible on his ears.

“Shuhut u-uhup, you ahass!” Tubbo grumbled, peeking up at his screen to see Ranboo wiggling his fingers, quickly curling back in again like a hedgehog. “What? What’s wrong, Tubbo? I was just stretching my fingers!” He lied, giggling as his friend grumbled something and tried to insult him.

“Don’t be a bully Tubbo, you’ll make me cry! You don’t want to make the tickle monster upset now, do you?” Ranboo threatened playfully, the other shaking his head. “Yohou are nohot… thahat! Yohou lee!” He decided it was somehow a good idea to provoke even more, smiling to himself as he heard the evil chuckle emit from his friend.

“I’m the lee? Says the one curled up on his chair, a perfect meal for the tickle monster? Oh, how bad I want to scoop you up and nibble all over your ribs, Tubbo!” He exclaimed, giggling softly. “Or what if I were to go for your thighs, I know how much of a sweet spot that is for you. Hey, don’t whine at me- I know you’d love it if I just raked my nails up and down the backsides of them!” He continued, high pitched giggles filled with hiccups escaping from Tubbo.

“SHUHUT UP! Yohou suhuhuck!” He complained, rubbing his belly to try to get rid of all the ticklish butterflies and phantom tingles. “Awww, are you getting butterflies? I’m glad!” Ranboo snickered, a huge grin painting his face which Tubbo just grumbled at.

“I’ll kihihill yohou…”

“Oh?”

Long story short, this was going to be a long night.

[whereisten]

Sweet Pea

A Haechan fic that’s part of our Halloween Series!

Summary: Who knew the undead could be so..lovely. You hated arrogant singer Haechan when he was alive, but could you love him now that he was..dead?

Pairing: Rockstar!Haechan (turns into a zombie) x Journalist!female reader

Genre: fluff, angst, horror, a little smut

Word Count: 9K

Warnings: death mention, car accident mention, blood and gore mention, wild animal death, character death (and resurrection?), cursing, some violence, cheating mention, smut: mention of penetration.

(A/n: THANK YOU GUYS FOR ALL YOUR SUPPORT FOR THIS SERIES SO FAR!! We hope you enjoy everything we put out🥺❤️ i did not proofread this so sorry for any mistakes uh ha ha)

————

“Lisa..I really don’t want to interview Mr. I-Am-God’s-gift-To-This-World.” You sigh and hold your head down while sitting at your desk.

“Well, do you really want to switch and dive into the dark web for me?” Lisa turns to face you.

The two of you are journalists assigned to two very different topics for this week’s news articles.

You, being the one responsible for writing articles based on the music industry, were faced with the grueling task of interviewing pop rock’s most famous star, Haechan.

From what you had heard, Haechan was an arrogant bastard that gave all of his interviewers absolute hell. He gave sarcastic, abrupt answers that they could barely work from. But lucky for you, you were the one assigned to interview him as he promotes his second album in your town.

If there was anything worse than a crazy rockstar with a bad reputation, it was one that was incredibly good looking too. 

You had to admit, from the pictures you had seen, Haechan was dangerously handsome with brown wavy hair and skin kissed by the sun itself. Girls swooned over the way his delicate fingers strummed his guitar and the way his soothing, high pitched voice sang words about love to them.

You had to remind yourself that it was all an act, however, he didn’t give a damn about them or anyone else besides himself.

Could interviewing him be worse than risking your life by going too deep into the dark web? Maybe.

You looked up at the ceiling and bit your lip as you thought about it.

Lisa scoffed and shook her head. “Don’t tell me you’re actually thinking about it.”

“Listen…I-“

“You got this, what’s the worst he can do? Call security on you like that one magenta-haired rockstar guy did to his makeup artist?”

You groaned and placed your head back down onto your arms. But she was right, what was the worst that could happen?

———

[The Next Day]

You were let into Haechan’s dressing room by his manager.

“Well, good luck in there.” His manager raised his brows and quickly closed the door. It felt like you were being let into a Lion’s cage with no way out.

You took a deep breath. Your hair was tied back, your bun felt tighter than it did five minutes ago. You smoothed your hands over your pencil skirt and quickly fixed the collar of your button down shirt.

When you turned around, you saw the legend himself, typing on his iPhone. He was probably tweeting something out to his 10 million followers or coming up with some “sweet” caption for his Instagram groupies.

You cleared your throat, you didn’t want to interrupt him, but you really didn’t have much time. 

“Excuse me...Mr. Lee?”

He didn't respond, he kept typing.

“Mr. Lee?!” You said with more volume.

He rolled his eyes and looked up. You felt your breath get caught in your chest. He was magnificent. Not a flaw in sight. His eyes were of a perfect crescent shape and sparkles in the light of the vanity mirror. And his lips were a beautiful heart shape as they puckered before he spoke.

“Yes?” He answered with annoyance in his tone.

“My name is y/n, I’m here to ask a few questions.”

“Oh..I see, well, I’m not really into the “boorish teacher type” but I’m sure we can make it work with some role playing..” Haechan bites his bottom lip as he eyes you up and down.

“Um..I..”

He places his phone down and walks over to you.

“Tell me, teacher, do you have a ruler to spank me with?”

You stumble backwards, your back hitting the door.

“I-I from the Neo Chronicles actually, I am here to interview you.”

He stands over you in his leather jacket, placing his hand on the door beside your head as you cower. He seems to be misunderstanding your purpose for being there, but you did like being close to him. He smelled like fresh lemons and summer. His warmth was unlike anything else and with his face being so close to yours, you could see every beauty mark. You knew any other person would’ve been a puddle had they been this close to him, but you were growing to be quite annoyed.

He leans down to whisper in your ear. “Oh, so you want to be a journalist, okay then so you want to record me? I can make any sound you’d like me to make, all you have to do is touch the right spots.” He says seductively while staring down your shirt.

You shiver and shake off your goosebumps. “Oh my God, Haechan! I’m just here to ask a few questions okay?! I’m not some..escort!”

He steps back and furrows his brows. “What? Then what the hell are you here for?”

“I’m the journalist!” You show him your badge with your name on it as it hung from a lanyard around your neck.

He rolls his eyes and plops down into his chair. 

“Boring. Go on.”

He waves a hand and motions for you to continue.

You sigh and hurry through your notes so you can get the hell out of there and away from this weird man.

“Okay, well let’s start off with your name. Your real name is Lee Donghyuk, why did you choose ‘Haechan’ as your stage name?”

“Why did you choose to pair that shirt with those god awful shoes?” Haechan begins to type on his phone again.

This little brat. 

“Haechan, please take my questions seriously, your manager has only given me ten minutes with you.”

“And yet, I could be doing so much more with our time than answering your useless questions..” he stops typing and looks you up and down again. “I could be giving you an interview to remember, don’t you think?”

You chuckle. “No offense, but you’re not my type, and also, I’m faithful to my boyfriend.” The first part was a lie, but you hoped he would feel a blow to his ego.

He scoffs. “Honey..I’m everyone’s type..”

“Anyway...what inspired you the most when writing this new album of yours?”

“Hmmm...you.”

You slam your iPad down onto the counter. “We don’t even know each other.”

“I wasn’t finished...Youuuutube.” Haechan smirks as you get more and more visibly upset.

“Haechan...I respect your musicianship, but you’re making this interview really difficult. I can’t do my job if you keep acting like this.” You try to play nice, maybe that would work.

“Well you’re not very good at this job, I have another job for you, if you’d like to try that.”

You scoff and raise your eyebrows. “You know what…”

He places his phone down and crosses his arms. “What? Is it time for the part of the interview where you storm off back to your little cubicle and fabricate an entire interview with bullshit answers I never gave?”

You remain still, silently thinking of ways to kill this man without being caught. 

You grit your teeth.

“Write a nice and pleasing story about me, sweetheart. I’ll be anticipating it.” He gets up and walks towards the door but you step in front of him to stop him.

“Listen, you little twat—“

He furrows his brows and gives you a frightening glare. “No, you listen. I’m the rockstar here, I don’t owe you anything, I’m worth so much money, you wouldn’t be able to wrap your head around it if you tried. You don’t matter to me or to anyone else. There’s 5 million of you and only one of me, the only difference between you and them is that other journalists are smart enough to get on their knees and prove that they’re worth a celebrity’s time. Now, miss—what was your name again?”

“Y/n.” You say through tight lips.

“Move.”

You step to the side as he walks past you, bumping into your shoulder on purpose before leaving.

You tried your best not to cry as you headed home that evening. You knew he was an asshole but you didn’t think he’d be *that* bad. You were thankful that you’d never have to see him again, but you hated the fact that it was up to you to create some story about your interview and fake his answers so that he’d remain a positive figure in the spotlight.

It pained you to lie. Would you risk your job to just write about your actual experience and expose him for who he really was? No. You couldn’t do that, you needed this job. So you went home to your boyfriend.

But your boyfriend wasn’t there. He came home about two hours late. 

“What happened, Mark?” You sat up in the bed and watched him take his work uniform off. 

“Oh, nothing, y/n. The boss just kept me late to finish up some work.”

Mark was lying through his teeth and you knew it. You had your suspicions for a few months now, for he always came home late with that excuse. But you ignored your feelings for tonight, you just wanted him to cuddle you as you complained about your “interview” with one of the worst celebrities alive.

Mark held you close and comforted you as you told him your worries of being bad at your job. He listened carefully, but thought about how he had planned to tell you the truth. He wasn’t working at all. He was staying home with another woman during the day, doing an online job and spending time with her while he made money. She was pregnant and Mark knew that he would have to break the news to you, but he couldn’t, not now while you were at your lowest.

He rubs your back as you fall asleep.

————

[The Next Day]

“Breaking News. There’s been a massive accident on Highway 15. Several injuries and possible deaths are being reported. We are on standby as we gain more information from those at the scene.”

You look up from your computer in your cubicle and at the TV above you.

“Coming to you live from exit 45, it seems that there is a car on fire and an overturned tour bus. Upon closer inspection. It seems that it is the tour bus of none other than pop star, Haechan.”

Your eyes widen. Gasps fill the room as everyone watches the live footage from the scene.

“As of now, we are unsure if Haechan is in the bus..”

The reporter continues, but your focus shifts to the car on fire.

“Oh my God, y/n, what if—“ Lisa starts but you shush her with your finger in the air. 

Your brows furrow as you stand up and take a closer look.

A red Dodge Challenger...the car on fire is a red Dodge Challenger.

No. 

You take a closer look at the license plate and see ‘WTERMLN.’ That’s his personalized license plate. 

You pull your phone out and dial Mark. But there’s no answer. Lisa places her hand in yours and squeezes it. “Y/n..I’m sure he’s fine.”

You dial him over and over again but still no answer. You watch in horror as they begin to pull bodies out from the cars and the bus, they’re covered but your heart aches. 

“Breaking news. It has been confirmed that Haechan is of the casualties lost from this terrible accident.”

While the office cries out in a collective “no!,” You run out to the bathroom and start to cry by yourself.

“Mark..please answer.”

But he doesn’t, and a few hours later, you get a call from the hospital informing you that Mark was also killed in the accident.

———

[1 Week Later]

Days go by and you mourn Mark’s death. You can’t fathom that he’s really gone. Your apartment feels strange and empty. And his family didn’t make things any easier, they didn’t speak with you or tell you anything. They acted like you were some stranger.

“You’re not invited to the funeral, we are sorry.” You hear Mark’s mother say over the phone and before you can ask why, the line goes dead. Tears flow from your face like a waterfall. How could they do this to you? Did they really dislike you this much?

The world mourned Haechan’s death, everyone was shocked, vigils were held everywhere in the world. From Brazil to Japan, and Ghana to Turkey. He had a massive impact on the world as musicians from all over covered his songs and sang them on YouTube or in the streets for live entertainment.

Everywhere you went, you saw RIP posters or T shirts with his face on them. His album was released early and topped the charts in all countries. The world was grieving but finding comfort in his music.

But none of that mattered to you, you were truly alone, left to an empty apartment and crowded with memories of your moments with Mark.

They wouldn’t even let you into the hospital because Haechan was there too and there was so much ruckus with the media. The deaths of everyone else never made the news. It was all about Haechan. And that made you even more upset. They painted him out to be some perfect angel, if only they knew what a jerk he was.

———

[Two Weeks Later]

Your family and friends did the best they could to help you move on, but you just couldn’t. 

Everything reminded you of Mark, you couldn’t eat or sleep properly.

One day as you jogged through the park to clear your mind, you ran into an old woman by accident. 

You had been staring at the fountain that you and Mark used to sit at while eating treats from the food trucks nearby. You didn’t see her standing in the walkway throwing pieces of bread to ducks.

“Oh, I am SO sorry.” You reach out to help her up, but she only laughed. 

“That is okay, dear..” she gasped as she stared deeply into your eyes, her curly white hair fell into her face. She quickly moved it out of the way and continued to stare at you intently. Her brows furrowed.

“Dear...you are in pain, so much pain.”

You gasped as your mouth fell open. She read you like an open book and your eyes weren’t even red from crying.

“I-“ you stuttered.

“I can help you, I am a psychic, come to this address, tonight at 7. I will help you.” She quickly handed you a card. You look down at it in your hand then looked back up to respond but by the time you looked up, she had already started walking away. You stepped towards her.

“Ma’am?” 

Then suddenly a bicyclist ran right in front of you, stopping you in your tracks. You lost sight of her and turned to head home. You thought about how strange everything was, but even more strange was your desire to actually show up to her place.

You were welcomed in exactly at 7.

The door creaked as did the floor once you stepped inside.

“Dear..I am so happy you came.”

“What is this about? How can you help me?”

You looked around the strange cabin decorated with beads and distinct ornaments hanging from the ceiling.

“You’ve lost someone dear to you, haven’t you? Mark..that’s his name.” She said as she sat down at a table in the center of the room.

Your mouth fell open. “How do you..how do you know that?”

“I’m a psychic, I see things.” She said with a wide smile.

You raised your brows. “Yet, you couldn’t see me running towards you this morning.”

She laughed out. “I see MOST things. Take a seat.”

You sat down across from her.

“What if I told you that you could bring him back and be happy again?”

“No..no that’s not possible.” You shake your head.

“But it is, dear. And I’m gonna show you how.”

“This isn’t right, don’t get me wrong..I miss him..I miss him so much, but I can’t do this.”

You swallowed hard as you started to tear up.

“Why not? Death took him away too soon, right? He’s a young man, he deserves a second chance at life and you deserve to be loved.” The old lady held her hands out. “Here, take my hands.”

You thought about what she had said, could this be possible? Could you be reunited with Mark?

It sounded too good to be true. But you were desperate. You held her hands.

“My father passed away when I was just two years old. But I grew up with him right in front of my very own eyes. My mother was able to bring him back to life so he could be with her and raise me. It is possible, I’ve seen it work firsthand and I want to provide you with this opportunity so you will no longer feel the pain that my mother felt.”

“Why? Why do you want to help me? You don’t even know me.” 

“Because..I know that I have a way to make things right.” She reaches under the table and picks up what looks like a piece of granite stone. It has strange writing on it in a language you don’t understand.

“I can’t sit by and watch people suffer.”

“What is this?”

“Listen carefully, this is what you must do. Take this tablet to your dwelling, keep it on a table in the room that the two of you spent your most time in. Surround it with objects that Mark used most when he was alive, then light five candles and repeat these words five times.” 

She hands you a crumpled up piece of paper.

“You must say this sternly, do not falter or have weakness, or it will not work.”

“But what if—“ you still stare at the rock in confusion.

“You must do this at 8:23 tonight for it is when the full moon will be at its strongest. It will protect you from other beings that will try to enter our world.”

“Wait, other beings?..”

A harsh knock fills the room. You look behind her and see a door with all sorts of bolts and chains on it from the bottom to the top. She moved to the side to block your view of it.

“You must leave now!.” She jumps up from her chair and grabs your hand.

“Oh! Okay!” You walk hurriedly to the door as she practically pushes you towards it.

“May you be blessed, my child.”

“Thank-“ the door shuts in your face and you hear the lock turn.

You think about all that’s happened and wonder if you should really try to bring him back.

You decide to sit in the center of the living room by the coffee table, where you would play video games with Mark, and lay out items that reminded you of him. His favorite hat, his watermelon charm, and several pictures of the two of you together.

You turn all of the lights in the apartment off after you’ve lit five candles as instructed.

You sighed as you sat down. “Please bring him back to me, I love him.”

You place your hands over the tablet and read the words on the paper out loud, in your best imitation of Latin.

“Anima corpori, fuerit corpus totem resurgent.”

You repeat it four more times. The flames go out.

A gust of wind blows through your apartment, causing your blinds to shake and your hair to blow forward slightly.

Your eyes widen as you sit in the darkness.

You sit in silence and wait for the unknown. Would he just pop up? Would he knock at your door? Did you say “copori” or “corpori”?

You breathe heavily and sit for about 2 minutes in the darkness, trying not to shake as you feel the air become crisp and freezing. You jump up from the floor and turn your lights on.

Nothing’s changed. You search around the apartment and don’t find him, so you begin to feel a sense of defeat. With tears in your eyes you take a shower then fall asleep. How could you be so desperate? You felt like a fool, there was no way this crazy old lady knew what she was talking about, she just wanted to see you act like a fool.

He was never coming back, you had to accept that.

———

[The Next Day]

You’re woken up by glass breaking.

You hop out of your bed and grab your baseball bat that Mark gave you for protection.

Someone had broken into your apartment. You quietly around the corner with your back against the wall.

When you peak out, you see that your door was hanging from its hinges. Your mouth fell open. Whoever this was, was clearly big and hefty, powerful enough to break down your freaking door.

What damage could this baseball bat do?

You heard grumbling and groaning sounds as the person shuffled through your fridge.

You stepped closer with your bat in hand.

But when you got a closer look, you saw that the person was small, slim and...grey.

They smelled too, like raw meat from the butchers market or more specifically, rotting flesh. 

“Hey!” You called out and swung your bat up high.

They spun around quickly. Your eyes widened in shock.

It was leather jacket wearing...Haechan?

He grabbed the bat from you, snapping it in two before throwing it across the apartment.

He was incredibly strong, but you couldn’t focus as he then grabbed your ankles and pinned you onto the kitchen counter.

“FOOD!” He yelled.

His eyes were of a white color, like he was blind, his face was a mix of purple, green, blue and grey, and bone in his neck stuck out of his skin. He looked—dead.

His fingers were frigid cold as he gripped your skin.

You looked in horror at him, confused. Had he not been holding you, you probably would’ve lost all feeling in your legs at the sight of him and collapsed onto the floor. 

“Haechan?? How is this..how is this possible?”

“GIVE ME FOOD.” He yells again as green spit oozes out of his eyes and mouth, you nearly pass out from his smell.

“Let go!!” You yell.

“IM HUNGRY.” He dashes his arms across the counter in one sweep, causing all of your utensils to scatter across the floor. 

“Okay, okay! Um..I..I don’t have anything here..oh my God what the fuck is happening?”

Between the mess in your kitchen and Haechan sounding like the Hulk while looking like something from the Walking Dead, you didn’t know what to do. Was it possible that you accidentally brought Haechan back instead of Mark?

“BURGER.” Haechan grabs you by the collar and groans.

You nod quickly. “Okay! There’s a McDonald’s down the street, I’ll be right back, um.. stay here.”

Haechan shakes his head violently. “RAW..RAW.”

“Okay! You like it raw, I get it, you can let me go now!” You fling your freezer door open and shuffle through your collection of ice cream, hoping to find a frozen package of beef.

Haechan bangs on the counter and grumbles as you search.

“Found it!” You quickly hand him the package and watch as he tears the plastic cover off and devours the raw meat.

Your face crinkles in disgust. What have you done?

About thirty minutes pass and Haechan slowly starts to look and smell better. His eyes have cleared and returned to their brown color, the green and purplish veins no longer stick out as his skin returns to its normal, warm color. He looks more like a human than a monster. However, the bone in his neck still sticks out.

This all felt like a dream...or nightmare, rather.

“Where am I?” He opens his eyes slowly.

You hand him a napkin to clean up the blood and meat around his mouth.

“You’re at my apartment..Um..do you remember me?”

He squints as he stares at you. “I don’t remember much..”

You step closer. “What do you remember?”

“I remember the music, the crowds, my mother..my father.. but that’s it.”

Your brows raise. “You don’t remember who you are? You’re Haechan, you have the biggest ego in the land, you treat people like crap and you even told me I meant nothing.”

“What? I did that? But why?” Haechan looks so surprised, you can’t help but feel sorry for him. He rubs his neck, wincing at the pain he feels when he brushes his palm over the exposed bone. “Why does my neck hurt?”

You shake your head. “It wasn’t supposed to be you..” you whisper quietly.

“What?” 

“You’re only here...because I summoned you. There was a big accident a few weeks ago and..you died..my boyfriend died too. I was desperate..I tried to bring him back.” You sighed and closed your eyes. “I’m an idiot. Because now I’ve brought you back instead.”

“I DIED?” Haechan sits forward.

“Yeah, but you were a dick, I just want my Mark back, not you.” You turn away from him, he looks up with sad eyes.

“I don’t remember who I was before, but I apologize for whatever I did.” His tone was so sweet, he was virtually unrecognizable from the man you interviewed. 

“That’s fine, Haechan, but you’re missing the point. You’re back now and I don’t know what to do with you. You can’t leave because then everyone will wonder how you’re alive again especially after they’ve spent so much time mourning you.” You rub your temple.

“Woahhh. I was a superstar?” 

“Yes, a superstar I hated.” 

“I don’t feel so good.” Haechan clutches his stomach.

You stand up straight. “What do you mean?”

“I feel..sick.” He starts to rock back and forth, you start to see the color drain from his hands and face. His tone becomes deeper, he starts to sound more and more like he did before he ate.

“Shit..it’s happening again.” 

Haechan groans and grabs onto the table as he transforms back into what seems to be his zombie form.

“Need..to EAT.”

“Oh my God, your appetite is crazy.” You rush to your freezer and find a frozen chicken. 

You turn around to toss it to him, but Haechan is already behind you, he growls and grabs the chicken from your hands.

With wide eyes, you watch him devour yet another piece of raw meat.

When he’s done he sits back in the chair and lets out a loud belch. You chuckle as his cute and handsome face returns to normal.

But you couldn’t ignore the fact that you truly had no idea what to do with him.

“You can kill me..since you hate me.” Haechan says softly while staring at the table.

“What is this..thing I’ve become..I don’t know why it’s happening, but when the hunger kicks in, I feel like eating everything to satisfy it. My mind goes blank, I can’t even form normal thoughts. I only see red. I’m sorry for doing this to you, I’m sorry for breaking in.”

Your heart breaks when you hear him apologize and look up at you somberly. “No..it’s not your fault. It’s mine, and I won’t kill you. I’ll find a way. I have to find her.” You pick your bag up and grab your car keys.

“Where are you going?” He stands up fast.

“Stay here, I have to find the lady that got me into this shit.”

———

You bang against her door. “Open the door, lady!”

After a few minutes, she reluctantly opens the door. “Yes?”

You push yourself into her house.

“Hey!” She yells to try to stop you.

“What the hell? You set me up!”

She scoffs. “I did no such thing! I gave you the tools you needed.”

“I have a zombie in my apartment! He goes berserk, like full frickin monster mode when he doesn’t eat raw meat for just 30 minutes! Do you know how crazy this is?!”

“Oh, dear, I’m sorry, you must not have done the spell correctly.”

“No! No, don’t blame this on me, I know you gave me that cursed tablet because you didn’t want it in your house anymore! I knew it was too good to be true but I trusted you! And I have no fucking clue why!”

You stepped closer to her as you yelled.

“You have to fix this!”

Her face fell. She had no idea that you would’ve suspected she was trying to use you to get rid of her curse, but you were right.

She sighs. “Dear...there is no way to get rid of this curse..it is final.”

“Final my ass! I should’ve brought him here so he can eat YOU! But you’d probably taste like shit because you’re full of it!” 

A loud groan and beastly sound comes out from behind that same door.

“Shhh!! Lower your voice!” She places her finger on your mouth.

Your brows furrow. “Is that...your dad?”

She looks to the floor. “It’s..my son.” 

The beast wails loudly.

“I thought...if I gave you the tablet, he would be released from this curse..but I was wrong. He doesn’t seem to be getting any better.”

“Are you serious? You knew about this..you knew what would happen, yet you let me do it too?” You scoffed.

She nods. “I am sorry, dear, but let me help you.”

She walks to her kitchen and brings back a large jar of lavender colored powder.

“If you mix 1 teaspoon of this powder with water and give it to him every day..he will be “normal” for 24 hours.”

“And what happens when it runs out? How do I stop him from eating everyone and everything in sight?” You snap back.

“I will be here, come back to me and I’ll give you more but this should last you for at least a year.”

“Really? So you’re telling me that there’s 365 teaspoons worth in this jar? Also, why don’t you use it on your son?”

She closes her eyes. “I’ve been doing this for twenty years, I’ve experimented with him, trying to find a permanent solution, however, when I cast a spell on him, it gave his body and mind a tolerance to this potion, meaning that it no longer has an effect on him.”

“Where do you get this from?”

She chuckles and opens her eyes as she looks out of a window. “From the fairies...they do not wish to be seen, but if you offer them something, they will leave a gift.”

You take the jar from her. “I am going to try this..if it doesn’t work, I’ll be back and I’ll be sure to bring him.”

“I hope that you and your lover can live peacefully in the end, dear.”

“Oh, that’s the thing, he’s not my lover.” you roll your eyes and slam her door shut.

———

[2 Months Later]

Living with zombie Haechan was..interesting. The potion worked and Haechan didn’t have those crazed hunger pings that turned him into a monster straight out of an 80s film. 

You were thankful that he wasn’t like who he was before the accident, an ignorant asshole. He was incredibly sweet and helpful. He didn’t speak much because of his decaying brain, but he kept you company and helped to clean.

You bought him clothes and eventually replaced them with Mark’s, for you couldn’t bear to see his things anymore.

You’d leave for work and come home to see him fixing things like the cabinet doors he broke.

“I don’t remember much, but I do remember my father..he never liked to watch me sing at school..he’d rather I have a hammer in my hand. He taught me how to fix most things when I was just 7 years old. But my mother..she supported everything I did..I miss her.”

Haechan said quietly as you both ate dinner. You ate spaghetti and meatballs, he ate the same thing but the uncooked version of course.

You felt a slight pain in your heart as you thought about how this must’ve been for him. Surely, he would want to console his mother and tell her that he’s okay, but he couldn’t.

You helped him dye his hair a dark red color and gave him a new haircut. His luscious licks were now gone, but if he wanted to go outside, he’d have to look different than he did before.

So you bought him round glasses and a scarf to wear to conceal his broken neck bone whenever you went to the supermarket together.

You still missed Mark, but you had been so busy with caring for Haechan that you sometimes forget the loss and pain.

You cleared your throat and thought of something quickly to distract Haechan from thinking about his mother.

“What is something that you would like to do? For example, I’m sure you couldn't go ice skating when you were famous right?”

Haechan chews and looks up to his right as he tries to remember. “I don’t think I’ve ever done that.”

“Would you like to?” You say with hopeful eyes.

Haechan chuckles and smiles at you, making your heart run wild. What was this feeling? Why did he make your chest weak?

Was it this new undercut that he had? Or perhaps the dazzling smile paired with beautiful eyes and a dainty nose?

“When I’m here alone, I watch TV and I saw an advertisement for..the fair?” He asks innocently.

“Oh! You want to go to the fair?” Your eyes widen.

“Yes.” He nods.

———

[The Next Day]

Haechan tightens his scarf around his neck tightly before the two of you get on the next ride.

“I like this one a lot, we used to ride it over and over, me and M-“ you stop before saying his name.

“Mark?” Haechan sees your hesitancy. He wishes you wouldn’t be in pain over his death anymore. He didn’t like seeing you like this, he wanted you to be happy, especially when you were around him, for your smile felt like a garden of bright flowers had bloomed simultaneously.

“Yeah..” you hold your head down.

The man at the ride lets the two of you on. It’s the pirate ship that swings back and forth, rotating you guys upside down as you scream your heads off.

Haechan holds onto you for dear life as you are flipped over in the air and held there for nearly 5 seconds.

You giggle while he screams and closes his eyes tightly.

When the ride is finally over, you jump up from your seat and take his hand in yours. He freezes and stares at your hand. It was the first time you had touched him. He felt sparks fly from your beautiful fingers to decorate his skin.

“Come on!” You say excitedly while beaming.

He smiles like he’s just seen gold and jumps up from his seat as well.

The two of you continue on through the fair, going on the worst rides just so you can laugh at how Haechan suffers through them.

After about an hour and a half, you decide to get some to eat.

Haechan looks up at the menu from a food truck. 

“Uhhh..do you have anything...uncooked?”

“Uncooked? Like..raw?” The chef looks at him with concern.

“Yeah. Like just a turkey leg..without the smoke?”

You run up to him after leaving the restroom. You can see from the puzzled look on the man’s face that the conversation doesn’t seem to be going well.

“It’s for our dog!” You quickly exclaim while wrapping your arm around Haechan’s. He once again felt soft from your touch. He loved being close to you, seeing you smile, feeling your warmth and love. The two of you had grown close as time went by, and even though he slept on your couch, he’d never felt more at home.

The man nods and hands Haechan a raw turkey leg. You get a hot dog and lead Haechan to a corner of the park where he can eat his food without being watched.

The two of you ate quickly as you hid, the sun was starting to set and you were growing tired.

“No one seems to recognize you!” You take a bite of your hot dog.

Haechan nods.

“It’s the haircut..thank you, by the way.”

You nod. “You’re welcome, sunny.”

Haechan stops chewing, his eyes widen. Did you just come up with a cute nickname for him?

A piece of meat dangles from his mouth.

You giggle as he stares. “What? Don’t choke now.”

He quickly chews and swallows. “Why ‘sunny?’’

You shrug your shoulders. “Hmmm i don’t know,..you’re bright..like the sun!”

Haechan blushes. “You think I’m bright?”

“When you’re not full monster mode, yeah..”

“What can I call you then...hmmm...sweet pea!”

You chuckle and throw your head back. Haechan’s smile widens.

“Sweet pea?”

“Yes! Because you’re sweet and small like a pea,”

Haechan teases and steps closer to you.

“I am NOT small.” You wave a finger.

“You’re shorter than me so…”

You laugh and turn away from his strong gaze. “well, I guess you have …”

You stop in your tracks when you recognize the brown haired man stepping out of the restrooms.

No, it couldn’t be.

You walk up to him and tap his shoulder.

“Mark?”

Haechan follows behind you. 

Mark turns to you slowly, gulping as he feels your touch.

“Y/n.. I can explain.”

You step back and bump into Haechan while covering your face with shaking hands.

“What’s wrong?” Haechan asks.

Mark steps forward.

“I-I..wait, it worked after all?” You tear up.

“What—are you talking about?” Mark’s brows furrow.

“You died and I brought you back to life..but..”

Mark shakes his head, thinking that you aren’t handling his “death” well.

“Y/n..no..I didn’t die..I faked my death, I’m sorry..I-I had to.”

“What?!” Your hands fall from your face.

“Baby, who’s this?” A pregnant woman walks up to Mark while holding her back and wincing in pain.

“This is..y/n.”

She holds her hand out for you to shake, but you glare at Mark.

“Baby? Mark, what...is this..are you messing with me right now? Am I on camera? Haha very funny, jokes over.” You hold your hands out and look around you for the cameras, for none of this made sense.

Mark sighs. “Y/n..I was going to tell you, but I couldn’t. I cheated on you with her and got her pregnant. I got into the accident but left the vehicle as fast as I could and escaped the fire. Im fine but..I told everyone to tell you that I died.”

You chuckled and bent over.

“I’m serious..I needed to start over..without you.” He continued.

You stand up straight with tears flowing down your cheeks. “Was I that bad, Mark? Was I that worthless?” Your voice cracked.

“Did I mean nothing to you?” 

Mark shook his head. “No..you were everything to me. Which is why I did what I did like a coward, I didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Do you have any fucking idea how much I cried over you? What I DID for you?” Your voice starts to raise.

Mark’s mouth falls open into silence, for there is truly no excuse for his shitty actions.

“You’re a lying bastard and I wish you nothing but the pain I felt when I thought you were dead.” Upset wasn’t even a strong enough word to describe your feeling right now.

Haechan also grows upset when he sees how hurt you are.

“You know what? I’m really hungry right now.” Haechan stepped forward, a low growl escaping him. You stepped in front of him and held his hand. 

“No..”

“You look familiar…” the woman beside Mark speaks as she looks at Haechan.

“And you look like the whore my boyfriend, wait, EX boyfriend knocked up! Come on, let’s get out of here.” You took Haechan’s hand and led him out of the park.

You drove in silence, a million thoughts running through your head. Once again, you felt like a fool.

Later that night, you crawled into bed and sobbed quietly, but Haechan heard you.

He opened your door slowly. 

“Sweet pea?” He says softly in the darkness.

You can’t help but laugh when you hear the nickname.

Haechan smiles when he hears it.

“Yes, sunny.”

“Do you need a hug?”

You roll over onto your back and swipe at your eyes. “Yes, please.”

Haechan climbs into your bed and pulls you into his arms tightly. You place your hands over his as he rests his chin on top of your head, and the two of you fall asleep soon after.

The next day, you wake up to Haechan rustling through your pantry.

He wails and groans loudly. You jump out of bed.

“Shit. I’m late.” 

You run out to the kitchen, Haechan tosses things out of the fridge while green and purple veins bulge from his grey skin. His hair is messy and great and he sounds demonic as he screams. You dodge his thrashing arms and quickly mix the potion for him.

You hold his head and keep him still with both hands.

“Haechan! Drink! Now!” You look into his white eyes.

You grab the glass and pour the liquid into his mouth. 

24 hours was up from about 30 minutes before you woke up. You had to be on time or Haechan would quickly change into zombie mode and could potentially leave the apartment to find someone to eat. This was the downside to having him around. But it was your curse and you had to deal with it.

You always thought it fascinating how he never tried to eat you.

Haechan calms down and sits onto the floor while panting.

He holds your hand and looks up at you with teary eyes. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry ..I’ll clean this up, I promise.”

“It’s okay, Haechan.” You sigh and head back to bed.

———

[Three Months Later]

You and Haechan live together happily, you slowly get closer, sleeping together in bed on most nights and doing coupling things like going to the movies or taking dancing lessons. 

He helped you get over Mark, he made you feel so loved. 

He couldn’t talk much so he was unable to get a regular job. But one day, the two of you walked by a floral shop. Haechan stopped walking and stared at the lilies. They were beautiful.

“They’re beautiful, aren’t they?”

You smiled as you touched the flowers.

“Yeah..Like you.”

You felt your face become warm as he stared into your eyes.

“I like flowers, which explains why I like you.”

Haechan says smoothly.

“You like me?” You say giddily and tug his hand.

Haechan rolls his eyes. “You’re cute.”

“What if you worked at a place like this since you like flowers?”

He nods “I’d love that.”

And so, you spoke to the owner and helped him get a job there. Of course, he’d have to wear his scarf to conceal his “scar,” but other than that, he would have no issue with preparing bouquets and cleaning up.

He’d bring home flowers for you all the time, making you smile and forget all about the pain you felt months ago.

——

“Sunny!” You cry out as Haechan flips you over his shoulder and takes you to the bathroom.

“Ha! I love hearing you call my name, baby.”

He helps you into the shower then steps in with you.

“Ah! I don’t have much time..”

“I know, that’s why I’m going to help you shower..”

He rubs you down with body wash, slowly caressing your body as you fall weak in his hands.

His touch was soothing, gentle..

“Are you sure you don’t want to call out sick today?”

He whispers into your ear as his hands trail down your abdomen.

You turn to him and kiss him for the first time. It felt like you were skydiving, falling through the blue sky without any indication of stopping, you felt a rush so indescribable your mind went blank.

Haechan can only think of how beautiful you are, he doesn’t want this moment to ever end. You’re refreshing and his chest feels like a hundred butterflies are roaming around freely in it.

He kisses you back slowly tracing his tongue over your lips. You inhale each other’s breath, closing your eyes and adoring the warmth of each other’s skin.

When you have finished showering together, Haechan carries you to the room and lays you down onto the bed. He crawls over you and lays his lips back onto yours while gently pressing his hands onto your sides.

You moan and hold yourself up on your elbows. 

You hold his face in between your hands while you kiss for what feels like hours. He gives your thighs a light squeeze.

You widen your legs and fall back into the bed.

“I don’t have much time, go ahead.” You say breathily into his ear.

He bites his bottom lip. “Are you sure?”

You nod. “Absolutely.”

He pushes into you slowly, merging your bodies in the bright room and on the plush bed for the first time.

You gripped his shoulders and wrapped your legs around his waist. Your fingers trailed up to his soft hair as he kissed your neck.

It felt magical, unreal, you felt like you had a small piece of heaven during your moment together.

Haechan whispers “I love you.” as the two of you lay in bed after.

“Is that code for “call in sick so we can do it again”?” You tease him before kissing his nose.

——

[6 Months Later]

You were running out of time to find more powder for your solution. You tried not to be worried in front of Haechan but he knew you were.

You were both worried about the future of your relationship.

You headed to the old lady’s cabin, hoping to get more.

But when you reached the exact spot, you were frightened to see an empty area littered with black dust.

“No..this can’t be..what the-?”

“Can I help you, ma’am?” A man on a bicycle passing by asked you.

“Yes, where is the cabin that was here?”

“You’re looking at it, honey. There was a fire about three months ago. The sweet old lady that lived in it passed away after inhaling too much smoke..”

Your mouth fell open as you searched the area. This couldn’t be real. How would you get the solution now?

———

[A Few Days Later]

You searched the Internet long and hard for a solution but found nothing. You were playing a dangerous game by shortening the amount you gave him, in hopes that it would last longer and give you more time.

But instead of the effects lasting for 24 hours, they’d only last for 18 before he started to grumble while the two of you laid in bed together. 

You’d quickly grab some meat from the closest supermarket and feed it to him, but that also meant that you couldn’t sleep at night.

“Hey..you’ve been at it all day. What are you looking for?” Lisa asks you one day at work.

The truth was, you couldn’t tell anyone about your predicament.

“I..it’s nothing, it’s just some old recipe I’m looking for.”

“Oh really? What’s it called?”

“I’m not sure, my mom used to make it, but it involves some pretty scarce materials.”

“Ohhhh..sounds interesting, well, what I can tell you is that when I did research on the dark web, I found a website that included weird stuff like 16th century recipes for potions and shit, it was crazy. They’d be like “you must drink four quarts of animal blood for this to work.” Wild.” Lisa shook her head and went back to her desk.

What if you needed to delve deeper into the internet, what if you searched for the potion on the dark web? 

No, you couldn’t, you’d just be asking for trouble.

Later that day when you went to pick Haechan up from your work, you saw that the shop had been destroyed, glass and flowers were scattered all over. The door had been ripped off and thrown across the floor.

You stepped out of the car but was stopped by the owner.

“Get out of here! You’re the reason for this! What the hell is wrong with your boyfriend? Look at what he did to her!” The owner pointed to another worker at the shop.

She was whimpering and holding out her arm. When you looked closely, you saw that she had been bitten. A chunk of her arm was missing. Your eyes widened as you backed away.

The potion..it wore off.

“Oh no..” barely left your lips.

“He was eating her like a maniac! I came just in time to run him out!”

The owner yelled as you jumped back into your car.

You drove around the area looking for him. You're on the brink of a full meltdown. What if he had attacked someone else? What if the police tried to get him and failed? How many more people could he hurt? 

You had to find him...now. 

You parked the car and ran around a park nearby. It was relatively quiet until you heard bones cracking. You snapped your head in the direction of the sound and rushed towards it.

You heard the high pitched cry of an animal. You peered through the bushes and saw a terrifying scene.

Haechan guzzles down the meat of a deer. He grumbles and makes demonic sounds as the deer’s eyes close slowly.

“Haechan..” you croak out quietly.

His head snaps up towards you while he still devours the intestines of the poor animal.

“Haechan..stop.. please..” you start to tear up. Your lover is unrecognizable in front of you, grey and purple skin and black fingernails. His mouth and chin is covered in blood and guts and his teeth are nearly fully decayed and yellow. His hair falls from his scalp like leaves fall from a tree.

He stands up slowly as he finally comes to realize who you are. He steps towards you but you don’t back away, you only stand there and cry.

“I’m sorry..I’m sorry I couldn’t help you in time.” 

You sob.

He breathes heavily and looks into your eyes, he’s confused because he doesn’t feel the need to feed on you, he feels like...crying, and the monster doesn’t know why.

You take him to your car and drive him home while he eats what’s left of the deer. The last thing you wanted was a dead deer in your car, but it was the only thing that kept him from thrashing around and being dangerous towards you. Once there, you use chains to tie him to a chair. You pour out the final teaspoon of powder and mix the drink.

He yells and groans as you give it to him to drink. You had never seen him this bad before. He has holes in his grey skin and his veins are now black. He was decaying faster than ever before.

His eyes were completely white and he spat out black blood as he yelled and strained against the chains.

“Haechan..please..baby it’s me, sweet pea..” you give a small smile.

But he doesn’t stop yelling.

You try to force the liquid down his throat but he coughs it up and spits it out.

“Haechan! No!!” You watch as the last bit of potion splatters onto the floor

You fall onto the floor and sob into your hands. What could you do now?

You remembered a conversation that you two had a few months ago.

“Should I threaten your safety or the safety of anyone else..you must kill me..” Haechan says while squeezing your hand and looking up at the stars.

You laid on the roof of your apartment building and watched the stars together.

“What are you saying..you know I can’t kill you.” You chuckle.

“Y/n...I’m serious...I am a monster, and if I lose control..” he shakes his head. “I can’t bear to think that I could hurt you. So you have to stab me in the head, that’s the only way.”

“You’re being ridiculous. I’d never do that.”

He turns to you and holds your chin in his hand while looking deep into your eyes. “Sweet pea..I love you, but please take care of yourself first.”

You raised your head as you sat at his feet now, the man in front of you being completely different from the man beside you on the roof long ago on that night.

“I love you too, sunny.” You cried harder and stood up. There was no going back, you couldn’t find any solutions and he was only getting worse. You loved him but he was right.

He lets out a loud groan as you walk past him and to the kitchen.

You take out a sharp knife and close your eyes before driving it into his skull.

The wailing stops.

You fall to the floor again and cry. 

———

[The Next Day]

You wake up and see Haechan’s lifeless body slumped over.

You miss him so much, your feeling of desperation begins to creep in again. And so, you jump onto your laptop and get to the dark web.

You scroll through many websites, some leading to porn websites, some leading to games with jump scares, and some just leading to flat out dead ends.

But as time goes on, you get closer and closer to what you need, finding websites about satanic rituals and sacrifices.

You eventually find a resurrection spell.

With nothing to lose, you take the knife out of his head and lay him down on the floor. You set the stage and prepared for another ritual, you should’ve learned from what happened the first time, but you loved him dearly, you needed him.

“I call upon the ancient power to help me in the darkest hour… with a drop of my blood…” you use a small knife to cut into the center of your hand. You wince from the pain and squeeze your hand to let drops fall onto his forehead.

“I will heal this man with all my love..” you say a few more words in Latin and close your eyes.

When you are done, it’s silent in your apartment, but your eyes are still closed.

Then you hear it.

You hear a breath leave his lips.

He sits up straight suddenly and opens his eyes. You gasp and watch as his skin heals and his eyes turn to brown. His teeth are back to being bright and white and his hair is luscious.

He smiles when he sees you. “Sweet pea..”

You grin with tears in your eyes.

“Sunny!” You got to hug him, but his body disappears and you fall to the floor.

Your smile fades, you hold yourself up from the floor and look behind you. Haechan sits there with a look of confusion.

“Y/n..”  he holds his hand up.

You sit back up in front of him and place your hand on his, but your fingers fall through thin air, failing to grasp his hand.

You didn’t read the fine print..the terms and conditions. This spell only worked for you to be able to see someone that has died, not for you to touch them.

“Haechan..I’m so sorry.” You begin to cry but he touched your cheek, it comes off as a light gust of wind.

“Don’t cry, sweet pea..I’m here..with you.”

And he stayed with you as a ghost for the rest of your life. He comforted you even though you couldn’t feel each other. You still explored the world together, watched movies and slept together. You missed his warmth and he missed yours, but seeing your beautiful face was enough for him. Even as you aged while he stayed the same, he thought you were the prettiest woman to ever grace the Earth.

And when you too had passed, you joined him as a ghost, walking hand in hand as you roamed the world.

come back tomorrow for the next spooky story...

[petalsonmoon]

purple

pairing: jj x fem!reader

summary: the three times you save and defend jj from a fight and the one time he fights for you.

warnings: VIOLENCE. and swearing. 

a/n: i have this thing that i think that everything i write is bad and it sucks. anyways, i really don’t like writing rafe being this aggressive. it’s long but is good, you won’t regret it. i’m doing my best i promise!

gif by @anakin-skywalker​

hating the kooks was just a natural thing. if you stayed locked in a room with one in 10 minutes tops you’d already want to kill him. they are mean and ignorant, just a bunch of assholes really. everything they do or say is annoying, like they live to make the life of the people from the cut miserable. and you know that for a fact because you were one.

yes, you were annoying and stubborn but not in a kook way. at least you think so.

the kooks knew you hated them and the pogues didn’t like kooks so your only friend was sarah cameron. the one who gets the best of both worlds.

when she started dating john fucking b you panicked. you where sure she was going to forget you and actually think you were a terrible person.

“y/n don’t be dramatic, they’re going to like you.” sarah says parking the car in front of the famous chateau. 

“how do you know that, huh? you’re dating one of them. i have nothing to offer them besides my cooking skills.”

“you’re overreacting. they’re good people. just be yourself! be nice!” 

“pick one sarah i can’t do both.” you mumble. 

“jeez y/n” sarah says laughing and leaving the car. 

she was right. they were surprisingly nice to you.

mostly because of what sarah told them but since that day you started to hang out with them more. from long trips on the boat to spend the day doing nothing on the chateau. you weren’t there as much as sarah but you knew they were there for you and you for them. you felt belonged.

the first time...

kook parties were the worse. it was comical how you and jj were feeling like outsiders and pope and john b were drinking and laughing looking genuinely happy.

“we could be sleeping right now.” jj leans on your ear from your left side. you both were just watching people having fun leaning on a wall.

“and miss all this fun?” you point at the drunk teenagers unable to walk on a straight line. “never.” you say and he chuckles.

“ten bucks the party ends in a fight in two hours.”

“fifteen that rafe ruins everything after coming from the basement stoned in a hour.” you reply and he snorts. “dammit that’s a good argument.”

“yeah, and your argument involves fighting and fighting usually involves you.” you say turning your body to face him.

“are you worried about me?” he smirks. you just roll your eyes. “don’t worry princess you know i can throw a punch.”

“and so can they. it’s like you always have a purple bruise on your face.” 

“it's my charm.” the boy is impossible.

“this is charming. girls don’t like that, you know?” you say and he shrugs.

“it never stopped me before.” he winks at me. “and it’s not like i care about their opinion.” 

you furrow your eyebrows but don’t get the chance to respond because you hear a voice behind you. 

“y/n! pogue! i don’t remember inviting you guys.” you and jj share a look and you notice his jaw clenches. 

“rafe! what a bad surprise!” you say turning to him and smiling. “please don’t be so happy to see us. your other guests will feel bad.”

he looked like a mess. you felt bad for him.

“oh but i am.” he comes closer to you. “why don’t we go upstairs and i’ll show you how much.”

“the only way i’m going to bed with you is if i’m drugged. like you right now... or anytime am i right?” you say and in a blink of an eye he grabs your arm. “you listen to me you little-”

“you let go of her right now or i’ll swear i’ll kill you with my bare hands.” you hear jj’s steady voice behind you. 

rafe pushes you aside getting face to face to jj. “i’d like to see you try, maybank.” that’s it.

“rafe you touch him and i tell your father you’re using drugs under his roof.” you say and all his anger is now directed to you. you two have a silent eye-fight until he whispers “get out of my house.” you hold his gaze a little more showing that you’re not afraid of him, grab jj’s arm and leave.

finally some fresh air.

“really, i could be sleeping right now.” jj complains once you’re out. 

the second time...

you could feel the sweat on your back even though the night was cold. you already felt a little dizzy but the boneyard was only getting more crowded. the music was loud and everybody was slighly drunk by now.

“i’m gonna get more beer!” you shout and sarah nods. you walk towards the keg leaving sarah dacing behind you. 

it was like a sixth sense warning you that something was going to happen. as soon as the keg is visible you see jj and topper bodies close to each other’s and both with a furious look on their faces.

there wasn’t many people around them and you only spot john b trying to stop them, you looked around again not knowing where pope and kie were. well damn, peace was never an opition.

“here we go again.” you mumble to yourself and run to them.

“you dirty pogues think you own everything here!” topper says and laughs coldly. “face it maybank, you don’t own shit nor will. just look at your dad, he’s your future.” that was low.

and just when jj took a step to murder topper you get in front of him. “jj.” he locks his eyes with yours. he was raging. 

he looks back at topper and intends to take another step. “don’t.” you put your hand on his chest. you were brave enough to put yourself in front of him when he was about to punch someone so he knew you wouldn’t leave without him. even with a gaze that could open someone’s head open you felt his body relax a little. 

you look behind you to see that john b was pulling topper away from you two and that the people around you went back to the party, upset they didn’t have a show to enjoy.

“you should’ve let me kill him” he says. 

“and let topper has the privilege of getting hit by jj maybank’s hands? no way.” you say and turn back to look at him. he was shaking his head and looking down. 

you knew exactly what he was thinking.

“you know he was wrong.” you say.

jj laughs still not looking at you. “was he though?”

“yes.” you answer with a steady voice. “look at me maybank.”

he doesn’t. yeah sometimes he’s like a 8 year old boy.

“maybank.”

he looks up with a certain anger in his eyes. not at topper. not at you. at himself.

“you already are better than he’ll ever be. he’s a shitty person and money can’t change that. but you... you’re- indescribably wonderful. no one on this island has a heart as good as yours jj.” you really meant these words.

it took a few seconds but the anger vanished. his eyes were now shining and you could see a little smile forming on his face making one appears on yours as well.

“you worry about me.” he pokes your belly with his finger. you roll your eyes. “don’t flatter yourself.”

he pulls you into a hug and whispers a ‘thank you’ on your ear. you just hug him tight. for someone who entitle himself as non hugger his hug was pretty nice.

the third time...

you enter the chateau seeing red.

“i can not believe you sank rafe’s boat.” you say looking directly at jj who was laying relaxed on the couch smoking a pot next to pope.

“yeah pope, how could you man!?” jj says taking a hit of his blunt. pope looks at him in disbelif.

“i told him not to do it y/n.” pope says standing up. “he never listens to me.”

“he never listens to anyone. goddammit jj!”

“now you’re here y/n i’m leaving. john b is at sarah’s so the house is yours to end him and throw his body on the water without any witnesses.” pope says giving you a tap on the shoulder.

once the door is closed you raise your eyebrows at the boy. “so??? why???” 

he just sighs. he just fucking sighs. “he deserved it.” why is he like this? so stubborn.

“maybank you shouldn’t have done this. he knows it was you, you know? you can go to jail!!” 

“i’m not going to jail.” he stands up and walk towards the bathroom.

“tell that to the cops that are in front of his house right fucking now. if he mentions you jj-“

“y/n he can’t prove it was me. it’s very simple.” then he closes the door. what was he? 12? “and don’t leave! i’m gonna take a shower and then we can hang out.” he screams.

you don’t even know why you worry about that boy so much. 

you complain but you wait for him, it’s not like you had any other friend to hang out with.

you always liked the chateau. looking around you notice how there’s things from everybody thrown by the house. the boys and kie make this place feel like home.

suddendly you hear a car door being closed from outside and check from the window who it is.

fuck fuck fuck

you run outside before he gets close.

“where is he?” rafe tries to pass through you but you doesn’t let him. “he’s not here, i’m looking for him too.” 

“then you tell that son of a bitch that he’s dead. my father is going to fucking kill me because of what he did.” you try not to look scared by his estate. 

“you don’t even know if it was him.”

“IT WAS.” he yells and you flinch. “of course you’re defending him, he turned you into a stupid pogue.” 

“you say that like we didn’t grow up together!” you raise your voice. “i didn’t change! you’re the one who started to have this obsession of being a replica of your father! well, guess what rafe he’s not a good person-” you didn’t finish because he punches you. 

you couldn’t belive that this was happening. it was like time had stopped. the same feeling of waking up of a nightmare and not being able to forget about it.

you look back at him to see his shocked expression. he looks like he’s trying to formulate a phrase but you don’t let him. you knee him on the stomatch. 

he squirms in pain. you put your head next to his ear. “get out of my house.” you say and go back inside of the chateau without looking back. 

your mind was racing. your emotions were all over the place.

you thought rafe was capable of a lot of things but not hitting a girl. you didn’t want to see your kinder garden friend as a villian so you always avoited the fights or even talking to him. well, that’s too late now.

you don’t even think about putting an ice on the bruise. you grab the blunt jj was previously smoking light it up and bring it to your mouth. leaning on the kitchen counter you breathe. you needed to slow your accelerated heart.

your right cheek bone stings and you don’t even know what are you going to tell jj.

and as if he was hearing your thoughts he opens the bathroom door. walking to the living room you notice he was only wearing a shorts and looking at something on his hands.

“hey i just found 10 bucks on my pockets! i didn’t even-” then he sees you. “what the fuck y/n!?? what happened???? who did this???” he comes to you and grabs your face with such a delicacy, like you were made of porcelain.

“you should see the other guy.” you smile but he doesn’t. you’ve never seen him this serious actually.

“who?”

“who do you think?” you answer and he eyes darkens. even his posture changes.

“i’ll kill him.”

he takes his hand of your face and starts searching for a shirt. “jj-”

“no y/n he crossed the line now. who hits a girl??? how could he even think of lay a finger on you!???” he puts his sleeveless shirt on.

“if you go he will be sure it was you. let’s just stay here and watch a movie, it’s not worthy.” he just looks at you.

“y/n you can’t be serious-”

“c’mon... stay.” you just look at him in the eye and his face softens. he walks to you and pulls you into a hug.

“you have a really nice hug.” you say and he just kisses your forehead.

“i’ll let you pick the movie.”

...and the last time.

there’s nothing more boring than midsummers party. it was everything you hated together: kooks, rich food and heels. your night was only tolerable because kie, sarah and pope were there.

“i need to get drunk fast.” you say when you ended another glass of champagne.

“don’t we all?” kie says.

“are we going to be like that when we grow up? i mean i don’t want to spend the night in an annoying party talking about business and golf.” sarah complains and you and kie chuckle.

you were about to answer when you see jj maybank on the other side of the room entering the mansion. he wasn’t supposed to work tonight.

you should be payed for being his life savior all the time.

“i need to go to the toilet, i’ll be right back.” you tell the girls and walks fast to where jj entered.

as you entered the place you hear some inaudible noises coming from the toilet.

you walk in there in time to see jj and rafe looking at each other like they were animals about to attack their prey. jj was way too angry and rafe was alone which it was very unusual.

“it’s sad you don’t have timon and pumbaa today but at least now we can have a fair fight.”

rafe’s next phrase surprised you. “maybank, i don’t wanna fight today.”

“i don’t care. should’ve thought about that before hitting a girl.”

rafe’s expression turned to pure sadness. you almost felt bad for him. he just needed to go to a phychologist or get some serious help.

“it was an accident. it’s never going to happen again.”

“i know it won’t.”

suddenly jj punches rafe on the face. rafe even stumbles from the force of it. he was going to attack jj when you got in front of him.

“one move and i scream.”

you analyzed him. rafe looked tired. and he couldn’t look at you in eyes. he seemed ashamed, probably because of what he did to you.

“i’m so sorry y/n.” he whispers then just leaves the room with a hand on his face.

“what is it that you’re always in the right place at the right time?”

you turn to jj. “it’s a gift.”

exchanging looks you add “and i appreciate you defending my honor but no fighting for me anymore maybank. or i will fight you.”

“i’m gonna be honest i’m not sure i can promise you that.” he replies and your face is serious. “and you’re one of the few people i’d let fight me.”

then he looks at you up and down with a sweet smile on his face. “your dress is purple.”

you look down at it and blush not even knowing why. “yeah- my mom picked up for me i don’t really like purple-”

“you look perfect.” he says and you look back at him to find him still smiling. his gaze was intense and sweet at the same time. “at least the color is not on our face today.” he completes and you laugh finally understanding his smile.

“yeah... you’re a bad influence on me maybank.” you take a step towards him.

“maybe... but maybe you’re suppose to bring light to my life like that yin yang thing you know” he says and you make a face. he laughs and takes a step as well. you were inches from each other now.

grabbing you’re hand he whispers “can i kiss you?” you nod way too fast.

the kiss was slow and filled with emotion, like the both of you needed that for too long and didn’t know. unlike romantic books your heart wasn’t racing, you were calm and peaceful. if you could put into words you would say you felt home.

pulling away from each other to breath you hide your face on his neck. “are you embarrassed right now?” he asks and you could feel the smirk on his face.

“yes.”

“why?”

“i don’t know...” you say. “i don’t wanna be a one time thing.”

he moves his shoulder and you understood that it was for you to look at him. he grabs both of your hands. “you’re not. i can promise you that.”

“how?” you ask.

his eyes were shining. exactly like when the sun reflects on the sea. “i’ll never get a purple bruise on my face ever again. for you.” he says and you smile.

you kiss him gently on the cheek and hug him. you really liked his hug.

[cosmicak]

Baby Ward

So! Here’s a Mom! V Drabble based off a conversation I had on discord about our collective RiVer Cyberpunk oc - baby Jackie Robert Ward. I threw some angst in there because of course

Prompt:

“River you’re not taking our child to a bar Ward”

1.3k words

Enjoy!

River wasn’t sure what was worse, He wouldn’t be around to keep an eye on his young son or that his beloved wife was heading into a bar with said son.

“Babe..can’t you just let Joss take him for the day? Even Panam or-“

“We’ll be fine Riv! isn’t that right Jackie?” V cooed to their son, currently strapped to her chest, eyes wide in wonder. He was almost one and V thought it was a better time than any to introduce lil Jackie Ward to El Coyote.

“He’s only 10 months V! You can’t take him to a bar!” He argued, cases left forgotten on his desk as he stood. V only waved him off as she put baby Jackie’s own little set of aviators - courtesy of Johnny Silverhand.

“He’s a Welles child, it’s in his namesake to go River, he’ll be fine” V grinned, slapping a ‘baby on board’ sign to the chest strap “Johnny will be there and Mama Welles will be around anyway”

River was still apprehensive, he knew their son would be in great hands, considering the about of aunts and uncles the kid had in Night City, but the cop part of him always knew just what could happen. “Tell me you weren’t going to take the Arch into town”

“Well..”

“V!”

“Alright alright..I’ll call the Hella..”

-

“Ayy..look at you, cute as can be eh?” Pepe cooed to the wide eyed baby playing with his cross necklace, V smiled down at her son.

“Still weird seein’ you with a baby, V” She heard Johnny to her left, peeking over her shoulder at the boy. “ ‘s preem your tits got bigger though”

“Fuck off Joh—“ V smiled before a sharp slap hit the back of her head. “Ow!”

“Watch your language around the baby, Mija” Mama Welles warned, taking a seat at the bar next to V. “Give me my grandson if you’re going to keep cursing”

She heard Johnny and Pepe chuckle to themselves as she unstrapped Jackie, handing him to his Abuela, posture straightening as the weight was taken off her front.

Jaquito “Jackie” Robert Ward was a big boy, much like his father and over the months V had been knocked up her back ached, so any relief on her back was a blessing in her eyes. V unstrapped the baby carrier and threw it over Johnny’s shoulders.

“You’re just usin’ me as a baby carrier now” He complained as V tightened the straps around his torso. “After all we’ve been through”

“Oh grow up Johnny, not even a week ago you were boasting how much pussy my son got you”

“Touché, V”

-

“Alright Kid, repeat after me- Daddy says oink!” Johnny exclaimed to the infant currently strapped to his chest, looking innocently up at him. Big brown eyes oblivious to the antics.

“Give me nothin’ why don’t ya” He sighed, sliding his own aviators over his eyes, scanning the room for V. She’d gone upstairs with Padre a while ago and left the kid to the worst possible babysitter. Johnny sighed, not one chick in sight he could use the baby against to get laid, and he couldn’t even smoke.

A whimper interrupted his sulking, a glance down saw that lil Jackie was about to scream his little lungs out. Johnny stood and quickly stormed his way upstairs, an ear piercing cry starting as he locked eyes with V.

“Take the fuckin’ kid V”

V rolled her eyes and said a quick goodbye to Padre before making her way over to Johnny and her son, lifting the boy from the carrier.

“Shhh, hey..hey it’s alright Jackie baby..I know his ugly mug is upsetting to look at..” she cooed, hot tears spilling from the boys eyes gradually slowed, Jackie only whimpered once V held him in her arms long enough. “See you’re fiiine..Mommy’s got you”

“Take him downstairs V, doubt the smoke up here will do him any good” Padre called, V nodded and gestured for Johnny to follow her downstairs as she cradled the boy in her arms.

Once downstairs V took him to Jackie’s ofrenda, still the same even years after the funeral.

“Little Jaquito, meet Big Jaquito..” She smiled to herself, kissing the baby’s forehead.

“Jack..meet my son, Jackie Ward..sorry it took me so long to uh..introduce him to you, choom..” V sighed, swallowing the lump forming in her throat. She felt the ‘ganic hand of Johnny rubbing circles on her back, staying silent. “You would’a loved him Jack..he’s the splitting image of me..‘sides the tan skin he gets from his father”

She held her son to her chest, the sound of her heartbeat lulling the boy to sleep, one hand came up and wiped her eyes, still finding herself getting overwhelmed with grief about his death. Jaquito’s weight and Johnny’s hand on her back kept her grounded enough to continue.

“You um..you’d like his pops, Jack..He’s a real family man, stuck by me even when I was dyin’” V chucked softly, thinking back on the earlier days with her husband. “Not bad for an ex cop either, bet you’d never have thought I’d get hitched to one of NCPD’s finest huh?”

“I don’t think anyone would have seen that one coming V, don’t exactly have a sparkling rep with the boys in blue of NC” V spun around to face one Panam Palmer.

“Panam? What the fuck are you doin’ in NC?” V asked, handing Jackie to Johnny to dab at her eyes.

“Weeeeell, I stopped by your place to demand some Aunt and Baby time but River told me you had taken our boy to the Coyote” Panam gestured to the uncomfortable looking Silverhand with Jackie pulling at his dog tags. “So here I am! now give me the handsome lil guy”

Johnny quickly exchanged Jackie from his hip to Panam’s, visibly relaxing as he did so.

“And here I was thinkin’ you meant me, you wound me Panam” He sighed, V rolled her eyes, moving over to the nomad.

“I know what kinda lil guy you got Silverhand, I ain’t interested” she shot over to him before diverting her attention back to the boy in her arms. “Aren’t you jusy the cutest little man! Oh yes you are”

Jackie woke up with a startle as V burst out laughing, soon screaming his displeasure to his aunt and mother as Johnny swiftly crossed the room to the bar for a stiff drink.

-

V pulled up to the trailer park just as dusk started, pulling a sleeping Jackie from his car seat and making her way up the porch stairs with the softest steps to avoid waking the sleeping boy in her arms.

Once she was inside, V sought out River who was talking with Randy about one of his cases. Upon seeing his wife and son he excused himself and crossed the room to gather them in his arms.

“Big day huh?” River asked, watching as Jackie didn’t so much as stir at the movement, clinging to V’s tank top.

“Oh fuck yeah, He was a hit at the coyote, between Mama Welles, Panam and Pepe, I barely had him to myself” V kissed their son’s tuff of hair before letting out a yawn. “and defendin’ him from Johnny’s bad influences really drained me too”

River smiled down at V, a warm feeling taking spreading in his chest. He gently unhooked Jackie’s little fingers from his mother’s clothes and held him close, giving V a kiss to her own head.

“Go take a nap V, We’ve been due for some Father Son time today anyway” He murmured into her hair, making her laugh before she headed for the bedroom, waving to Randy as she did.

“Alright little man, wanna hear about what dad’s been up to today huh?” He chuckled as Baby Jackie stired and squinted up at his father.

“You’ll only bore him back to sleep with that shit Uncle Riv” Randy called out, prompting River to shoot his nephew a mean look

“Randy!”

“Yeah yeah, language, like Aunt V’s friends aren’t as bad” River could only sigh and cover his son’s free ear, taking his seat and settling the boy in his lap, smiling down at his son.

“Yeah I know”

-

[remus-sanders-is-the-bestest]

“Don’t be scared, don’t be scared! I don’t want to hurt you!”

I’m going to mix this prompt with the prompt “be careful out there, the human might see you!”

The sides are a family of borrowers: Janus and Patton are parents, Logan is the oldest child, Roman and Remus are the middle children and Virgil is the youngest.

Thomas is the human.

(The twins will be close but do NOT tag as remrom, as they are siblings both in cannon and in my story)

———————————————————————

Roman wished he listened. But he had finally figured out the best way to watch those movies that the bean was so fond of. The bean had moved the tv to a different spot in the room. The perfect spot to watch from an open vent in the bottom corner of the room. And he could still keep an eye on the bean! (Because the vent was really close to the couch where the bean watches cartoons)

When he told the younger borrower what he was going to do, he started flipping out. “No! The human will see you! I won’t let you!” He eventually gave in. “I can’t stop you, can I? Fine but be careful up there,” he had said “the human might see you”

Roman thought back on this bitterly. Of course he didn’t listen to his brother! The one time that he didn’t, he got captured. He felt like it was forever ago, but it was less that two hours. He hadn’t even managed to finish the movie! It might as well of been forever, though, since that’s when Roman thinks he will see his family again. He was trapped in a jar with a human staring at him.

He was as good as dead. He was terrified when the human pulled out his phone, scared that he would call a scientist or an exterminator, someone that would murder his family and himself. He started pressing himself against one of the curved wall of the jar, trying his best to get as far away from the human as possible.

The bean did not seem to notice his obvious terror, just looking at his phone and carrying on dialling whoever he was dialling.

“Nico, I need you to come over here”

“Not that I’m complaining, but why?” the voice from the other end of the line said, and Roman could almost picture someone raising their eyebrows.

“I need a second opinion on whether I am or am not going crazy”

“... fine, but only for you”

Roman was just getting more and more nervous as the short conversation ended. He will be seen by another human. It was then that the bean finally looked over, noticing the visibly upset and panicked state the borrower was in.

“Shit. Um,” Roman flinched at the loud words that were directed at him. Thomas sofened his tone “don’t be scared, don’t be scared! I don’t want to hurt you!”

Roman yelped as Thomas moved his arms. Trying to keep his mind off of the terrifying situation at hand, his mind involuntarily wondered to his family. He and Remus, despite their fights, had never managed to be away from each other for more than 7 hours. Not even in a different room in their small house. They both would be tearing themselves apart from the inside if Roman couldn’t get free or if they didn’t rescue him.

Virgil would blame himself for not alerting his family earlier, despite Roman swearing him to secrecy.

Logan wouldn’t let his mask of calmness fall until alone, just himself or with Remus, Roman suspected. He knew that Logan felt that as the oldest, he had a responsibility to help look after the younger siblings, even if it wasn’t necessary. To Logan, this included not showing weakness.

His dad (Patton) would be a wreck. His papa (Janus) would try to reassure his family but everyone would know that it was near hopeless to try to free him.

Distantly, he could recognise the sound of knocking at the door.

Without realising it, the thoughts about Romans family had reduced him to tears. He didn’t notice until a sob escaped his body.

Still scared out of his mind, Roman let out another sob at the thought of what might happen when the second human catches sight of him. His mind helpfully supplied all the things that Remus had ever said about being captured.

He was snapped out of these thoughts by two pairs of large footsteps. Still crying, he nervously looked up at the two humans. Another sob escaped his body, as he thought about what would happen. Would he be crushed? Eaten? He didn’t know what was going to happen and it was unsettling. He pressed his back against the edge of the glass. He knew that the humans were talking, but he couldn’t hear them through the glass and the thumping of his heart.

———————————————————————

Thomas greeted his boyfriend at the door.

“Hi, there is a tiny person on my table, and I put him in a jar, but he’s terrified and I regret putting him in the jar but I can’t let him out because that means scaring him more by getting super duper close and my reassurances have gotten nowhere so I don’t know if he can understand me. Please help” Thomas rambled quickly.

Nico took a few seconds to process the, quite frankly, unbelievable news. “Okayyyy then? Can I see the ‘tiny person’ and possibly lower his fear levels then?”

Thomas nodded and led Nico to the living room, where there was indeed a tiny person crying to himself in a jar. The small boy looked up hesitantly and let out an audible sob, scrambling to get as far away from the two humans as possible, pressing his impossibly small body into the back of the jar.

“I swear he wasn’t crying when I got up to answer the door”

“I-I think he might be just a tad bit overwhelmed. I’d imagine getting captured by someone so big in comparison to you can’t be very good for mental health. I’m sure that he’ll trust you eventually, but you’ll have to move him to a larger space that isn’t a jar”

They looked at the tiny man, who stared straight back, eyes wide with fear as he obviously didn’t take in a single word being said. It made Thomas pity him, he obviously didn’t know English, so Thomas didn’t know how to communicate with him.

———————————————————————

It was about an hour after this little interaction when the rest of the borrowers got worried. They asked around the small family to see if anyone had seen Roman or knew where he was. When they got to Virgil, he just couldn’t bring himself to lie, and even if he did, his papa had always managed to tell when he was lying.

When he told them, everyone was freaking out, Remus, his dad and his papa mostly. Somehow Logan had stayed calm. At least on the outside.

Remus tried his best to not jump to conclusions, but movies don’t take this long. If they do something apart from each other they always hurry back. He couldn’t help the tears that managed to escape.

Patton broke down crying, one of his kiddos had probably been captured, or worse. He didn’t want to think of the worse option, but the best case scenario was still so bad. Why couldn’t he have protected his son? He was probably the worst dad in existence!

Janus went out to search the tunnels, just in case, but when he was going past the living room, he saw something that crushed the small glimmer of hope that he had. A cage, with two humans staring into it, at something that was so unmistakably a borrower. He would never admit it, but he cried. He had to leave quickly, so he didn’t have the same fate as his son, and so he could inform his family of the terrible news.

He managed to catch Romans eye before he left though, mouthing that they will find a way to get him back home.

After he ran out of sight, from both the borrower and humans, hearing as he collapsed “why do you think he was looking at the vent?”

“That’s where I found him, I think he might want to go back, but I don’t think it would be good for him to leave, it’s probably dangerous in the walls”

“More like you want a pet, or scientific discovery, and don’t care who it affects” Janus grumbled under his breath, hating to admit that that was the most likely reason that they wanted to have his son. They didn’t know the pain that they were causing the family, but Janus thought that they wouldn’t care either way. They were humans for goodness sake.

Humans have never cared about things smaller than them.

When Janus got back to his small house, his face was covered in tears and he could barely get the words out.

“Th-the hum-human— an-and- cage” he collapsed, sobbing into his husbands arms.

-/\-/\-/\-/\-/\-/\-/\-/\-/\-/\-/\-

That’s the end. Should I make part two?

Edit: link to part two

[wonderweasley]

Close for Comfort

Harry Potter x Reader

Plot: You and Harry comfort each other after Moody demonstrates the Unforgivable Curses in class. 

Warnings: none per se, use of Unforgivable Curses/mentions of death may be uncomfortable for some

(This will be based off of the book more than the movie, for anyone wondering. Also, didn’t have a lot of time to proofread this so...oops? Feedback is welcome as always! Enjoy!)

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All fourth years were beyond excited to attend their first Defense Against the Dark Arts class with Professor Moody, what with the older students (especially the Weasley twins and Lee Jordan) ranting and raving over the class. Naturally, you were curious about what Moody could possibly do to get the twins actually interested in a class. 

You definitely did not expect to witness the use of the Unforgivable Curses.

The class chatted excitedly until a distinctive ‘clunk clunk clunk’ could be heard echoing down the corridor.

“You can put those away,” Professor Moody grumbled. All at once, the class shoved their textbooks back into their bags. He took attendance, his magical eye rolling around to look at each student, and minutes later pulled a glass jar from his desk. Inside, three large spiders scurried around, seemingly in terror of what was to befall them. 

“Imperio!” he cried. The entire class watched with bated breath as the spider Moody had placed in the palm of his hand began doing all sorts of flips and tricks. The classroom filled with laughter. 

All but yours.

“Think it’s funny, do you? You’d like it if I did it to you?” Moody growled. “Only one person in this bloody classroom with any common sense,” he muttered, his bright magic eye landing on you. 

You’d never had the displeasure of witnessing any of the Unforgivable Curses before today, and frankly, you were quite glad. The Imperius Curse made you uncomfortable; you weren’t by any means fond of spiders, but you couldn’t help but pity the poor creature. Certainly no one would enjoy losing complete control of their mind and body and being forced into acting as a show pony. 

And it only got worse from there. 

Neville, surprising the entire class, and undeniably himself as well, raised his hand and offered Moody the next curse - “the Cruciatus Curse,” he all but whispered. 

Moody lifted the next spider from the jar, enlarged it using Engorgio, and then cast “Crucio!” 

The spider’s legs curled into its body and it began to twitch and rock back in forth, gradually shuddering more and more violently. Tears filled your eyes as you imagined how much pain the poor thing was in. You felt sobs ready to escape your body and you watched the spider, and even more so once you realized poor Neville was visibly distraught as well. You were ready to put an end to this when- 

“Stop it!” cried Hermione. Moody raised his gnarled hand from the spider, reduced it to its normal size, and placed it back into the jar. 

The time came for the final curse. The Killing Curse. 

Professor Moody raised his wand and the entire class hushed in an equal mix of anticipation and horror. You closed your eyes, unable to watch the scene unfold. “Avada Kedavra!” 

Green light flashed, signaling to you that the deed was done; though you still dreading opening your eyes to witness the aftermath. Ron had nearly fallen out of his chair, and Moody proceeded to swipe the spider’s lifeless body onto the floor. Tears filled your eyes once again; death in general upset you more than you could explain.

“Not pleasant. And there’s no counter-curse, no blocking it. Only one known person has ever survived it, and he’s sitting right in front of me.” Everyone turned to look at Harry Potter. The Boy Who Lived. Sitting at the desk to his left, you could see him squirm under the watch of so many eyes. And you could see the pain behind his own. You could only imagine the pain he felt, having watched his parents die trying to protect him. Even though he was so young when it happened, you were sure he had some recollection of it all. 

Once class had ended, you rushed to meet him in the hallway. “Harry!” you called after him. He motioned for Ron and Hermione to continue on without him and turned to you.

“Oh, (Y/N),” he uttered. “Um, is everything okay?”

“That’s what I wanted to ask you actually. I know watching all that couldn’t have brought up good memories, so I just wanted to check on you.” Harry’s eyebrows rose in surprise. He’d only talked to you a few times before, nothing major, so this was rather unexpected. Although, if he knew one thing about you, it was that you had a kind heart; you were even kind to Slytherins. Well, most of them. 

“Well...if I’m being honest, I am a little shaken, I suppose. Seeing the Killing Curse in person definitely isn’t my idea of fun,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Would you like to join me in the Astronomy Tower after dinner? With Halloween coming up my parents sent me some sweets a little early and I won’t be able to eat it all on my own,” you offered, smiling as sweetly as the candy stashed in your nightstand. “Plus, I could use a little pick-me-up as well.”

Harry thought for a second, then nodded. “That sounds lovely, (Y/N). I’ll see you then.”

Roughly an hour later, as you sat in the Astronomy Tower wrapped in your favorite blanket, Harry made his way up to join you. You spent hours together- talking, reminiscing, joking around with each other, and stuffing yourselves full of candy. Harry, at some point, found his way under your blanket as well, and from time to time you would brush hands or bump knees (not that either of you were complaining; you found a strange sense of comfort in each other). After yawning for about the thousandth time each, you realized it was probably time for the two of you to go your separate ways. 

“I had a wonderful time, Harry,” you told him. “It was nice to get to know you better.”

“I had a great time too,” he smiled. “We should do this more often; especially if there’s sweets involved.” Both of you laughed at his response. You bid each other good night, watching Harry as he made his way back to the Gryffindor Common Room. From that night on, he was not only the Boy Who Lived- he was the Boy Who Lived in your dreams. 

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Apostate 1

Warnings: violence, further tags to be added in next chapter.

This is dark!(hydra!)Steve and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You notice something about Steve.

Note: Okey dokey. Here’s the long awaited Hydra Steve! There will be a second part and this will be reblogged with tags as well. Thanks to everyone for the encouragement. If y’all want the inspo for this one, here it is. Thank you. Love you guys!

Leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

It started with a look. Funny how the eyes could betray so much; elation, devastation, knowing. The dilation of a pupil, the glare of an iris as it caught the light, the dullness that could mute feigned surprise. 

Steve was a bad actor, or perhaps it was an unusual slip. Perhaps there was more to the performance; a secret harboured so long it grew light and easy. That it no longer took great effort to carry.

Or maybe you just looked over at the right moment. Or the wrong, depending on your perspective. He blinked and nodded as he turned back to Tony. He pretended to listen intently as the man stood in his broken armor and recounted his struggle. Hydra agents had destroyed the vault before he could secure it. Your mission was both successful and catastrophic.

While you might have cut another head off the snake, it’s venom remained. All you achieved was the ruin of a city block. The collateral of property and even people. None had died but many were wounded. 

You shook your head as Tony told of how the operative slammed the door closed and the muffled explosion saw to the erasure of thousands of documents. Those which could see the decapitation of Hydra and cauterise the necks before they could heal. But he was too late. You all were. It was as if they knew. As if they expected you.

You hung your head as the image of the golden avenger lingered in your head. He didn’t look very disappointed, only indifferent. You thought of the mission, his hair still askew and the dust still stained all of you as it mingled with your sweat. 

You recalled how Steve appeared so conveniently from behind a pillar after your singular struggle with an enemy. Almost as if he had been watching. As if he were awaiting the outcome before he made his entrance. As if either way it unfolded, it would be a victory for him. 

You must’ve been crazy. You were tired and the adrenaline hazed your mind. The win laced with such loss was hard to swallow. You were desperate for a reason and you could have pinned it on any in the room. It was always hard to accept that it just hadn’t gone to plan.

You peeked at him again. He rubbed his forehead and yawned. The lines deepened below his hairline and around his eyes. No, you must’ve imagined his apathy. It was so unlike him. It was your own subconscious telling you you hadn’t done enough. Your own doubts aimed at another to avoid your own culpability.

“Sorry, am I boring our resident centenarian?” Tony turned on Steve as he closed his mouth. “Where were you? I was calling for you.”

“I was doing my job, same as you,” Steve stood straight and regained his couple inches over Tony. “Seeing to my team, as I always do.” He looked to you. “Isn’t that right?”

You were caught by surprise. You gulped and looked around. Bruce and Clint were worn and barely seemed awake as they stood against the wall, Natasha shook her head and grumbled. “Tony, come on.”

“Come on what?” Tony spat. “He’s standing here like nothing happened. You need to lay down, old man?”

“Tony, it was all of us down there. We all came up short.” Natasha argued. “Hydra… they always have an exit plan. At least, we cut out part of the infection.”

Tony nodded and shook his head. He turned his back on the team and scoffed. “With nothing to show for it.”

“With no lives lost,” She insisted. “With an awareness that they are infiltrating our major cities. With an idea of where to look next.”

“Chicago? Boston? Los Angeles?” He sniffed and pushed his hair back. “Where do we start, Romanoff? There’s six of us and how many of them?”

“Fury will--”

“Fury will complain about paperwork, about marching blindly against an unseen enemy,” Tony barked as he spun back. “Fury isn’t what he used to be. Maybe if we had the files, he’d budge but without them, we got nothing but breath.”

“Tony, she’s right,” Steve intoned. “We know where to look now. We’re not blind.”

“Where do we look, Cap?” Tony turned on him. “Hmm?”

“Right in front of us.” Steve’s jaw twitched. “They’ll be scattering, here in New York. We keep an eye out at the airports. See who’s trying to run and where. We go from there.”

Tony clamped his lips together and sighed. He shrugged and dismissed all of you with a flick of his hand as he crossed to the door. His metal suit retracted all at once and revealed the sweaty black clothes beneath. Showed him to be the man he was; exhausted and wilting.

“Keep your eye out then, Steve,” He snarled. “If you can keep ‘em open long enough.”

You all stood and watched him go silently. When the door slammed you glanced at each other. Tony’s frustration had mounted in the past months. As cells were uncovered in his city, you all witnessed his growing hopelessness. This was just another dent in his armour. Perhaps the deepest.

It was just as the myth went, you cut off one head and another grew. Soon enough, you’d find yourself in the teeth of one or the other.

💀

You couldn’t shake the feeling that something was out of place. Most of all, you couldn’t push away the thought that it was Steve. You kept replaying the scene in your head. A whole week later and it flashed behind your eyes every time they met his. 

He hadn’t been concerned to find you sprawled across the ground with scraps of concrete and metal around you. A dead man draped over you as his life bled out. And you thought of the yawn that riled Tony. Even as the accusations flew, Steve wasn’t bothered. Not enough to get defensive, just enough to try to coax Tony onward. Past this blip. Past this misstep.

So you got in your head to follow him. At first, you kept to his movement in the Tower. His meetings with Fury, with Stark, his little run-ins with his respective colleagues, his training. The usual. Nothing to fuel your suspicions, only to further dismantle your paranoia. 

Yet it lingered.

Then he left for a mission. You couldn’t follow him there, you had your own work. So you passed the days he was gone in paperwork and reconnaissance around the city. Your thoughts of the first avenger faded and a semblance of normality returned until he did. 

You saw him in the halls with Fury. The General was visibly unhappy, not that he was ever overtly cheerful. You turned the corner before you could reach them and listened. Even when the matters should be private, Fury’s anger often precluded him from a hushed conversation. Neither men seemed concerned of being overheard.

“This is all you have to show? It’s nonsense.” Fury said.

“It’s coded,” Steve replied dully. “Don’t you have a team that can crack it? You’re telling me Tony in all his genius can’t decipher a few backwards letters.”

“It’s a single sentence, Rogers,” Fury snorted. “Maybe even half of one. This isn’t a cryptogram.”

“It’s what I got,” Steve huffed. “You sent me in alone, what did you expect?”

“You’ve marched into worse on your own,” Fury growled. “And done more than a single fucking slip of paper.”

“Rich.” Steve retorted. “Tony watches as a whole vault of intelligence is nuked and I bring you back something, anything, and I get lectured like a child.”

“Tony called for back-up, several times, we have the logs, Captain,” Fury sneered. “Including those of your radio silence.”

The air was still as neither man spoke. You could barely breathe. 

“I wasn’t the only one out there,” Steve said quietly. “I wasn’t the only one with a radio. I’m not the only one who lost.”

“But you’re their leader,” Fury returned. “So you need to start acting like it and get your shit together.”

The words were punctuated by sudden footsteps. Fury’s boots clicked away as a shadow neared you. You slid along the wall and dipped into a closet as Steve’s soles scuffed closer. You pulled the door closed quietly and watched through the crack as he passed. He swore under his breath as he punched his own hand.

He stopped, just beyond your door and his steps came to a stop. You heard a soft rustle and swallowed as you listened. The faint ring of a line trying to connect. It stopped and Steve’s voice startled you as it cut through the air.

“Chicago.” Was the only word he said. 

Your brows drew together and the low hum a voice replying in a single syllable was followed by the bloop of the call ending. Steve let out another heavy breath and continued down the hall. Your heart raced as you waited several minutes before emerging. 

What the fuck was that?

💀

Steve once told you not to bring your work home with you. You thought it was laughable coming from him and it still was. You stood across the street from his building. You followed him there from the tower. It was difficult to tail a target trained to look over his shoulder at all times.

You hid in the mouth of the alley, pressed to the wall as you stared at the front doors. What were you going to do? Watch them all night? Wait until the morning when he left? It seemed all a bit preposterous now that you stood there. This was Steve Rogers. A war hero. The first avenger. The saviour of the world.

As the streetlights flipped on, you checked the time and resigned yourself to fleeing with tail tucked. You shouldn’t have followed him. You were being silly. You let your imagination get the best of you. Read into a yawn and a slight tic. Maybe you were due for a vacation.

Then the doors opened and you fell back into shadows. Steve wore a plain grey hoodie and track pants. He stretched his legs before he hopped down the steps. You watched as he bounced in place before setting off in a jog. He was that type. Running around after dark to clear his head. 

You waited until he reached the end of the street before you stepped up to the curb. You stared after him as he disappeared around the corner and you crossed between the cars parked along the road. You strolled up the stairs to the front door of the apartment and swept through the door. You scrolled through the buzzer directory until you found him. Not so obvious as the rest; the initials S.R. beamed back at you on the screen. You took note of the apartment number and walked back out.

You checked your phone as you came around to the fire escape. You figured at least twenty minutes before he returned, likely longer. Closer to an hour, if anything. You took a running start and hopped up to grab the bottom rung of the ladder. You hauled yourself onto the metal platform and started up the steps. You stopped at the first empty apartment.

You tapped on the window and waited. Nothing. You tried the window but it was locked. You took out your pocket knife and poked along the frame. You jammed it between the wood and heard the metal clasp snap. You slid it up carefully and slipped inside, closing it quietly behind you.

You found your way to the door and into the hall. Another floor up and several apartments away. You raced up the stairwell and came out on the next level. You counted your way to his door and listened through the wood. You stirred around in your purse and pulled out the multi tool gifted you by Tony. 

Don’t take your work home with you, the words echoed again.

You glanced around before you picked the lock swiftly. You eased the door open, careful not to grind the aged hinges. You walked lightly down the short hall to the living room. Frame pictures along the wall placed precisely, a leather chair and patterned couch more suited to another era. No television, only a shelf of books and aged magazines.

You stopped. What exactly were you looking for? You edged around the coffee table and examined every inch of the room. Nothing out of place. You passed by the kitchen and down the hall that led to the bathroom and bedroom respectively. The glow of a screen came from the latter. You frowned. The laptop shone beside the small lamp on the desk.

You looked back into the living room and took a breath. You tapped your toe softly before you entered. You went to the desk and clicked the touch pad. The screensaver washed away and you stared at a plain desktop. Not even a password. It felt all too obvious. Too easy.

The hairs on your neck stood. You peeked over your shoulder. Nothing. You turned back to the laptop and opened the explorer. The files revealed nothing but encrypted Shield docs. You clicked out as a notification popped up in the corner. An email with no sender. You opened it before you could think.

It was gibberish. Coded words. You shook your head and brought up the camera on your phone. You took a picture of the message and and marked it unread before you closed it. You held onto your cell and retreated. 

You left the way you came, mindful to lock the door in your stead. You took a breath before you headed down the stairs and wove your way to the rear exit. You came out by a dumpster and set off behind the row of brick buildings. You dialed your phone as you turned into the alley that led to the next street. It went to voicemail and you tsked.

“Fury. We should talk. Call me as soon as you can.” You didn’t know what else to say so you hung up. 

You looked to the front of the alley, the few dark figures that passed by. You would head home and wait for the call. You suspected your night was far from over. You started forward and your phone vibrated. You kept your step and lifted the screen to answer. 

You were suddenly off your feet as an arm wrapped around you and a hand batted your phone to the ground. You were spun against the brick wall and crushed by an unyielding weight behind you, a knee against your thigh.

“Find anything good?” Steve asked and you tried to turn your head. He caught it and slammed it into the wall, sending stars through your vision. “Too bad you won’t get to share it.”

His thick arm snaked around your throat and he squeezed. You kicked out as you struggled and pushed both of you away from the wall. He barely stumbled as he kept you locked in and your head began to pound.

“S-Steve…” You rasped out.

“I told you, don’t take your work home with you…” His hot breath was the last thing you felt as your vision went black.

[captaindaddykru]

☆for emily☆

today it’s @keiraknighted‘s birthday. i wanted to finish this before today, but everything is flaming garbage, so a preview will have to do. no, i will no be giving out more details. happy birthday to my musical soulmate, the kinkiest queen of them all, em. my ol’ cobber. my favorite drongo. quite the spunk you are. you’re a classic. and you live in the worst possible timezone imaginable. here’s some best friends, pining, sexy, below <10k hopefully. also, sorry for the ugly temporary moodboard???? i was getting desperate at this point and am no grapic designer. i just needed something to distract from what you’re about to read. cheers!

So, by the time their holiday break rolls around, Clarke isn’t only sexually frustrated, she’s also kind of desperate. Which only intensifies when a few days before they’re all flying back to their hometown, Wells casually lets it drop he’s now in a relationship with a girl from his old chess club and things are ‘heating up fast’, whatever the hell that’s supposed to mean. She’s just more aware than ever she’s running out of time. 

Clarke doesn’t even know why it’s such a big deal to her. Maybe it’s her competitive streak coming into play, or the fact she really just wants to get the whole awkward virginity thing over with, maybe it’s the dark inexplicable pang in the middle of her chest whenever she sees the constant rotation of girls on Bellamy’s Instagram and Snapchat. She figures it’s a healthy amount of jealousy, courtesy of their very codependent ways, sharing everything with each other since childhood. They’re all apart for the first time in a decade, going their own ways, perhaps even growing apart. 

She doesn’t think about why Wells’ honest to God girlfriend doesn’t bother her as much when in reality that should make her feel even worse. A girlfriend could screw with their dynamic, a bunch of one night stands rationally speaking won’t. It could be that she knows Wells too well to know there’s still a very big chance he won’t go through with it, that he’ll let the girl down easy before Christmas even rolls around. 

But. Then she finds herself thinking of his jacket covering her shivering body, drenched from the rain, her left arm throbbing with pain, his hand wrapped around hers as he told her it was all going to be okay. She thinks of that time he left Gina’s birthday party early to come pick her up at a friend’s house after almost having a panic attack, the nights he spent sleeping in her bed after her father died, how he never once complained about getting her coffee from the drive through that was more than his hard limit of three dollars, and that one throw-away moment at the end of summer. That goodbye hug that lasted just a little too long, his arms tight around her waist, the intense look mirrored in both of their eyes as they pulled apart, the way she was afraid to say anything in case her voice gave out, before she got into her mom’s car and watched him and Wells disappear in the rearview mirror. 

It’s hard to explain, even to herself. It’s why she never thinks about it for too long. 

Which all brings her to tonight. A new year’s party at the house of someone who went to the same high school as them, that has all the charms of a bad hang-over in the making — terrible beer, music that’s mostly EDM and completely shit-faced people plastered across every surface.

She hasn’t seen Wells since his father’s Christmas party. Clarke finally met Luna there in person. She’s beautiful, easily talked to her about the non-profit she’s interning at for half an hour and had nothing but love in her eyes whenever she looked at Wells. He’s with her at her parents’ ski cabin right now, and from the way Bellamy was clapping his shoulder before he left early in the morning, Clarke figures he’s probably losing his v-card to her there which means that she’ll be the only one out of the three of them not to complete the pact. There’s no way she’s finding someone before midnight that she’d both feel comfortable with taking hers, and is even willing to do so in the first place. 

To make matters worse, Bellamy has totally ditched her to play beer pong with Bree, which she isn’t even sure isn’t code for hooking up in the coat closet. He knows she hates parties, especially when she doesn’t know anyone else there, and that she’s horrific at first impressions. She’s forced to make small-talk with Murphy, the loser who still hangs around their high school parking lot and she used to share one Culinary Arts class with before he got suspended. 

All of it combined has put her in a sour mood. And a drinking mood, but since all there is fucking shitty beer that might as well be toilet water she can’t even get drunk, so that just makes her even more unreasonably upset at nothing in particular. Maybe at the fact she’s so high strung and obsessed with controlling every little detail, that she didn’t just get it over with back on campus with some frat boy she never had to see again after, or that Wells and Bellamy managed to make it happen without even trying. It’s probably because she’s trying way too hard, people can probably tell.

It’s not fair that both of them beat her to it. Clarke wants to just be done with already, too. She wants to get it over with so she can get to the good, non first time stuff like them. She wants to be flirting with boys and girls at parties, or ask for someone’s number at a coffee shop without having to worry about having to explain it’s her first time doing any of it when they eventually invite her over to their room. She wants to be free and nonchalant and spontaneous, not constantly weighed down by the fact that she’s a virgin. It’s not like she’s asking for much. 

Half an hour to midnight, she pushes her way outside to the porch for some fresh air. It’s there where Bellamy finally bothers to leave Bree and her attention-seeking ways behind and come find her. 

“What’s up with you?” He asks, half a chuckle in his voice as he leans his forearms on the railing, mirroring her. 

Clarke grits her teeth together, then slowly exhales through her nose. She keeps her eyes on the tree swing in the distance, swaying softly because of the wind. “Nothing.”

He elbows her playfully, although his tone is serious. Of course he sees right through her. “Come on. Don’t give me that.”

She just grumbles something indecipherable, pushing back her hair from her face with one hand. She still doesn’t look at him, scared she might give anything more away. From inside, there’s the muffled beat of a hiphop song playing joined by the distanced tumult of college kids getting drunk and having fun. Except for the couple making out on the other end of the porch and one stoner sprawled over the grass smoking and staring at the sky, they’re alone. 

“I’m sorry about leaving you for Bree—” Bellamy starts, straightening back to his full height, and before she knows it, a flare of anger rises within her, burning white hot. She doesn’t recognize the feeling, but gets too lost in it to analyze it for very long.

Her head snaps to the side to glare at him, fingers tightening around the railing until her knuckles turn a pale white. “It’s not about Bree and her pathetic fuck-me eyes.”

“Okay,” he replies, sounding a bit too amused for her liking. He leans back, crossing his arms over his chest. It makes his biceps bulge in a way that’s completely unfair when she’s been perpetually turned on since Halloween, and it sends a surge of want pulsing from her core. “Then what’s it about, princess?”

Has his voice always been so deep? She hesitates, not sure she even wants to share this with him. He might be her best friend, but it’s embarrassing on a level she can’t even try and start to describe. “I’m annoyed, okay?” She bites, heated, which immediately makes her feel guilty. It’s not his fault nobody wants her. “I expected that I’d at least beat Wells to it. And since it’s all I can think about all the time now, I’m constantly horny.” A blush forms on her cheeks, down her neck and all over her collarbone, but she refuses to let that or the way his eyes widen slightly stop her. It’s only awkward if she lets it be. “I just feel so stupid. I mean, I had five months to get it over with like both of you, and here we are. What the hell is wrong with me?”

A tense silence wraps around them for a moment, Clarke’s heart pounding loudly in her chest as panic claws up her throat. She’s such a fucking idiot. She shouldn’t have brought it up in the first place. She’s sure neither of them would’ve actually held it against her if she didn’t lose her virginity before new year’s, they’re better than that. She knows they are. Clarke is just so — frustrated.

His tongue darts out to wet his lips, and she finds herself entranced with the movement. “I didn’t know you were so upset about it,” he starts, tentatively. Her blue eyes snap up to meet his, a smirk breaking across his face. He’s teasing her, the asshole, when he says, “I mean, if you’re that desperate, I’ll do it.”

Her eyes narrow, finally pushing off the railing. A gust of wind greets her body, bristling her hair and making tiny goosebumps appear over her arms. She’s seconds away from angry tears, she can tell. “Don’t make it sound like it’s such a fucking chore.”

Bellamy just kind of stares at her dumbly, his whole body grown tense, making her even more furious. Did he lose his tongue all of a sudden? He’s never had a problem sharing his opinions on her, no matter how negative, before. “What?” She snaps, roughly brushing  a strand of hair behind her ear before tucking her hands back underneath her opposite armpits.  

“It wouldn’t be a chore, Clarke,” he corrects her, his eyes still slightly widened as if alarmed by the sound of himself speaking. He swallows visibly, his adam’s apple bobbing up and down in the low glow of the Christmas lights draped across the ceiling of the porch. Bellamy lifts one of his shoulders, casual, even if the movement is stiffer than it usually would be. “I just — I didn’t realize I was an option.”

Her heart trips over itself as silence stretches between them for a moment. She wants to ask him a million questions, but the best thing she can come up with is, “So you were serious?” Clarke raises her eyebrows, trying to figure out if he was just being nice, taking pity on her or if it was something much more dangerous than that. “You’ll do it?”

His jaw clenches briefly, his nostrils flaring. Another second, and he asks, rough, “Do you want me to do it?”

She considers it. This is Bellamy, her best friend. He can always make her laugh, and there’s no one else she feels as much at ease with, and he’s definitely attractive, even she has noticed as much. She likes his stubborn curls, his smile when someone catches him off guard, the sharp line of his jaw. And at the very least he would know what he’s doing. She trusts him. “Yes.”

Now that she’s aware it’s a possibility, she refuses to want anything else. It’d be kind of perfect, actually.

He clears his throat, blinking hard as he tears his eyes off her for a second, scrubbing his face with one of his hands. It’s very big, and Clarke finds herself wondering for the first time if it means the rest of him is big as well. Bellamy sniffs when his dark eyes land back on her. “Have you been drinking?”

“Just half a beer,” she answers, maybe a bit too eager, her hands dropping at her sides after smoothing down the bottom of her glittery top. She doesn’t want to give him enough time to talk himself out of it. “And I think someone diluted it with water so it barely counts.”

He nods, once, then nudges his head to the side. “Want to get out of here?”

Taking one more look around the porch, Clarke worries her bottom lip pensively, shooting him an apologetic look. “My parents are having friends over, so my house is definitely not an option.” 

Besides, she doesn’t want to risk them finding out and making it weird. Especially not if the consequence is going to be an open door policy whenever he or Wells are over. Nothing has to change after tonight.

“Thelonious is out,” he offers, then flinches when he seems to remember something else. “But Octavia might show up with her friends.”

Clarke nods, giving him another long searching look before she makes up her mind. It’ll be fine. This is Bellamy. She’s a pro at compartmentalizing and he’s sleeping with a different girl like every other night. It can just be sex. “Upstairs then?”

[blueybunny]

I’m back from the dead (sort of)

TL;DR: my confession (see previous post) didn’t go as planned. E didn’t react to it, we didn’t talk about it, I got confused. For the past I-dont-know how many months I’ve been trying to figure out what was going on, with some success. E seems to have taken it okay-ish in the end, and a lot of personal issues factored into the whole situation so that’s why she has taken some distance, but we are still in speaking terms and she’s doing well! Even though I got somewhat lucky, please please please don’t confess yourself!

This is gonna be a lengthy update, so bear with me.

Hey. It’s been a long while since I’ve updated on the situation between me and E. I think it has been some 9-10 months since I continued the story, and i left it off without any conclusion. I feel like you can already tell that me confessing to E didn’t go as planned - far from that.

To preface this, the only reason I decided to confess to her was that it got too difficult to hold my feelings steady. I was leaking out all my emotions, and I had no idea how to gain solace apart from just letting them out, properly. It was a purely selfish reason, and I elaborated to E that I was doing it for myself, and I knew it could make things worse for her. She insisted on me telling her. And yes, I could’ve backed out, and I hated every second of it because I didn’t want to hurt her.

So, after that talk in her car (i still remember it so vividly, god i wish i was there), I waited the weekend to finally tell her. This was when everything shifted and took a turn for the worse. E had told me we could talk on Monday, and when Monday finally came, she texted me to let me know that she also had something to tell me face to face. I didn’t have the slightest idea what it could be.

This is how it went down. E said she had 15 minutes before she needed to head home. She sat me down, and told me to essentially stop coming to her with all my problems because she had no idea what to do with them anymore. She felt completely helpless and wanted me to get some “real” help. And at the time, that completely broke me. For weeks – no, for months. She telling me she wouldn’t be there for me anymore? I wasn’t sure i could take it. I just sobbed for the whole 15 minutes, and she asked why i was crying??? At this point i still hadn’t told her about my feelings, so she just assumed i would be fine with losing her. I didn’t have the courage to confess, and i even went as far as saying i was mad at her. Then the situation ended, as rapidly as it had begun.

Oh god i loathed myself so indescribably much after that, i still do. I had no idea what i was doing to her, when she had so many issues of her own she had to take care of to begin with. I should’ve known better. Why did it take so long to realise how much i was hurting her? She’s an extremely sympathetic person so making her feel helpless is the worst thing i could’ve ever done. I couldn’t forgive myself, and still can’t. I feel like i broke everything. I was so selfish, so naive, so dumb. The worst part was that she told me she had spent the entire weekend worrying about me, and that just broke me.

So what did i decide to do? Well, the first thing i had to do was apologise. And the second, well, was to confess. Why, at this point? It was to grant her at least some peace of mind, no matter how strange it might sound. I thought at the time that the best thing would be to just tell, so that she could stop worrying about me - once and for all. Also, I had a feeling she knew about my feelings, since I hadn’t been particularly good at hiding them, and so I thought that telling her about them would make things easier for both of us.

Tuesday rolls around, and i gather the courage to tell her everything in five minutes (that’s how long our break lasted, and i had to run to my next class). Bad idea, i know. I still remember what i said: “i like you a lot more than i should”. And i think it got through to her. She looked at me, saying how it came out of the blue. Then she told me i should go, and it was the coldest “goodbye” i have ever received.

Yep, not the best it could’ve gone. Also not the worst, because in the end she took it relatively well, she wasn’t visibly upset or disgusted, she didn’t tell me to stop speaking to her. But do i regret it? Absolutely. No matter how much i tried to convince myself it was the best of both worlds, i still did it in the heat of the moment.

What happened afterwards? Oh god how much i want to say it’s been a nice uphill climb from there, but nope. Everything’s been static, nothing has really changed between me and her, and it’s still that loud, awkward silence clouding our “relationship”, or at least what remains of it.

I asked her in a text if she felt distraught or shocked by what i had told her, to which she said no. But she also said she doesn’t want to talk about it any more than that - which i totally understand. I felt like i needed to clarify things so i asked if she had time to chat. It took a month to finally talk face to face again, and in that time she basically banned me from texting her. I didn’t bring up the confession at first, and we spoke as if nothing had happened (and it felt amazing). But then i asked her if i we were still friends. Bad wording, i know: she hesitated a bit first but didn’t deny anything. It was truly hanging by a thread.

We spoke a few times after that before quarantine happened in late March. They were normal conversations, mostly related to school. However, since E had told me that she wouldn’t be staying behind after school to talk to me like she used to, she now had to find time for me in her already full schedule. She was always in a rush, and every time we spoke, I cried afterwards – not out of happiness, but out of discomfort. I wasn’t sure what was happening. She suddenly became very cold and distant towards me, and it felt like she was pretending that nothing had ever happened between us, not even last fall when we grew quite close (at least in teacher-student terms). It was as if I had never even known her in the first place, and it hurt. A lot.

During the time when we were quarantined and school was still in session, I texted her a few times just to ask how she was doing. I had to be very careful in doing so, and I made sure to leave at least a month between texts because I didn’t want to annoy her. Even then I noticed changes in the way she talked to me (or texted me, rather). All that made me incredibly scared and confused, because I wasn’t sure what she was thinking, or if she felt uncomfortable or disgusted. Back when I confessed to her, she told me that nothing would change, yet now virtually everything has. I understand why, at least mostly, but I really thought at some point that our relationship would stay the same.

Nothing really happened over summer. I thought about her a lot, and I thought about how I could fix this and perhaps salvage at least something from our “friendship”. Even though she had told me we were still friends, I couldn’t bring myself to believe it. She felt like a stranger who was saying stuff out of pity.

Then, September rolls around, and we go back to school. The pandemic is still very much present in my country, but we didn’t have to continue our lessons online. On the first day of school, i saw E, and I talked to her a bit. I hadn’t done that in about 5 months, so it felt weird, but I was glad to see her regardless. I told her about an exciting thing that happened, but she didn’t really seem that interested. And again, I was left with tears in my eyes. I didn’t want to believe it – was this how things were going to be for the rest of my time in high school (mind you, I am a senior)? I had a complete mental breakdown the following weekend. I just couldn’t handle it. Where did E go?

On the second week of school, we had a school trip which meant E and a couple of other teachers spent a few nights with a bunch of students. At first, I was unsure whether I should attend because I feared that I would get jealous, but i ended up going. The trip was fun – if you don’t count the fact that yes, I got jealous, and that E essentially ignored me and didn’t talk to me during the whole trip, something that she’s never done before. I spent the nights panicking about the situation, trying to figure out if I had done something to upset her or to otherwise make her feel uncomfortable (because I definitely had, but that - my confession, that is - had happened over 6 months ago). Something was off, I could feel it.

And then, when I return to school the next day after the trip, certain that E hates me, everything goes back to normal. I went to ask her if she had time to talk, and she was all smiles and told me that I could come by later that week. We also joked about the fact that she still hadn’t given up her habit of drinking coffee – something that was an inside joke of ours a while back. That was the first conversation in ages that didn’t leave me with tears in my eyes. That week, we spoke on three separate occasions. The first conversation was relatively normal. The second was about me going to a professional to seek help for my mental health issues (finally). We talked briefly about why E had set strict boundaries – she wasn’t doing well either, and she almost cried when she told me about it. I said something, and I felt bad for bringing it up, so I apologised to E the following day. Then she told me that she would keep listening, that i could still talk about my problems. I thought that she wouldn’t allow that anymore, so that came as a surprise. Of course I don’t want to keep complaining to her about virtually everything, but I’m glad she didn’t set a boundary there too. That was a pleasant end to the week.

We’ve had a few chats since then. She’s still very busy and won’t be staying after school to talk to me, meaning that I have to find time in her already packed work days. But I’ll take what I get, because it’s still something that E is willing to give up her time to just chat, even though it’s mostly nothing of importance. She also gets very apologetic every time she has to tell me that her schedule is full, which is both sweet and a bit sad. During one of our chats, we spoke about gap years, and to my surprise, she had one right after high school. She told about her reckless young adult years, when she would live at home and spend her savings on weekly visits to a local karaoke bar. She apparently excelled at school, yet she was very different from me in many other ways. At one point she sighed and wondered why she was even telling me this, and I had to hold back my laughter. That made me quite happy.

But alas, the situation still didn’t fix itself. There were a number of reasons as to why I still felt uneasy about everything, and almost scared whenever talking to her. There were times when I could’ve swore last spring never happened, but something was off. At one point I really thought the best thing to do was to just stop talking to her altogether, to force my overflowing feelings back under my skin, but I soon realised it was not going to work. My idea initially was to tell her that I was going to take a time-out and wait until she would have more time to talk about things thoroughly, but soon after it occurred to me that it would be the ultimate guilt trip for her. Don’t get me wrong, there have been many things she’s done that have hurt me one way or another, but I don’t hold her responsible. I know she means well and that yes, she probably felt shitty after what happened last spring, but she would never intentionally hurt me. She has, even after all this time, the right to be mad at me – I sort of broke her trust.

Since radio silence was not going to work, right before we went on fall break, I tried to find E at school to talk things out. Of course I didn’t find her, so in an email thanking her for a thing I also mentioned that I had something I would like to talk about. She responded, saying that we would return to the topic after the break. Well, come next week, and I was sure she forgot about it. Tbh she was probably expecting me to remind her (not the other way around), but I told myself it was not a thing that needed rushing anyway. On Thursday, however, I passed her in the hallway and took the opportunity to talk to her. “I haven’t sent you another email yet –”, I said, before she interrupted me mid-sentence with “next Wednesday. I’ll have a free period from x to y.” She was in a hurry, for which she apologised - but she was in a good, almost delighted mood. She remembered, after all!

Come Wednesday. I had been preparing for this moment for so long I had pretty much scripted the dialogue out in my head. But, as usual, things didn’t go according to plan. I hesitated, I completely chickened out. We did talk, but at first it was about everything else except the actual topic. Only in the last 15 minutes of our conversation did I open my mouth. I asked her if we could go out for a short walk before my next class, and so we did. The air was crisp, and neither of us had coats on. I told her there were still some things that bothered me about what happened last spring, a bit vaguely. She did take the hint, saying in an almost teasing tone: “ooh, so about the time when you said you liked me more than you should?” That took me aback a bit. I was surprised by her directness – I was expecting euphemisms, awkwardness, the like, because to me, it felt as if I was tearing open a half-healed wound. This just proved to me that it wasn’t a big deal to her (which was a relief!) and that she had always taken it somewhat well. Anyway, I revealed my reasoning behind the confession, and she told me that at some point in the spring she did feel a bit shocked by what I told her that day and that her personal boundary had been crossed. Fair point, E. I did violate her boundaries, I lost control, I was sure that the whole thing didn’t just fly past her head. But, that’s the opposite of what she initially told me: remember, she said she didn’t feel distraught. It wasn’t a lie at the time, but I wish E would’ve confronted me about it instead of having me second-guess each and every one of my actions. I am bitter, yes, but I’m sure E had good reasons to act like she did. It’s not simple to talk about these sort of things. I’m glad I got my reaction after so many months of waiting. Before our time ran out, I asked her about boundaries and I got the same answer she always gives me: “you can always, always come talk to me.”

We’ve been in and out of school this fall, reflecting how erm... well our country is dealing with the pandemic. We have had face to face classes almost periodically, but currently we’re in lockdown and thus back to online school for the rest of the year, at least. Quite ironically, I was supposed to talk to her at the start of last week, but it just so happened to be on the day schools were closed again. Just my luck, though I’m starting to get used to it. Things are okay between us – not the best, but not nearly as bad as a few months back. I’m currently fighting a pretty bad episode of seasonal depression, which in turn has made me an emotional mess, exaggerating my feelings for her once more. I’ve tried to keep myself together whenever we’ve talked since I kind of promised to her to keep these things to myself since E starts feeling really helpless if I burden her with my unwellness again. I want to talk about happy things, but right now I find it difficult to even point out something I would deem “happy”. Whenever I complain, however, she does the same, so I guess we do have some kind of mutual understanding in regards to that. I’m not exactly sure what to do now, what to tell her and what to leave out of the picture. I do want to be honest thought, because we all know how exhausting putting on a happy face is. The only thing is that I don’t want her to worry.

One thing is for sure: I want to fall in love like this again. I have only now begun to realise how much E actually gave of herself – I still can’t believe we’ve been driving around town together, or that she remembered my birthday, or that she has given hours of her time to just listen. And she still continues to do the latter, whenever she does have time in between lessons. I wish love was easy, all butterflies and rainbows and glitter. But it’s not: it’s bold, it’s giving, trying, failing all over again, in a loop. But to say that love, even in its ugliest forms, isn’t worth all the heartbreak and hurt and pain, is wrong. I would do this again and again, shatter my heart into a million pieces and glue them back together just to experience all the happiness that it has brought me.   

To quote a manga I absolutely adore, “Those treasured moments we shared are still with me now. And the bond we made will continue to support me, tomorrow and so on. I’m sticking to my dumb and ridiculous unrequited love.”

One day I’ll hug her again. One day. I have something to look forward to in this life.

[whatwashernameagain]

Keep him safe - Chapter 33

You can read the previous Chapters here: Ch 1, Ch 5, Ch 10, Ch 15, Ch 20, Ch 25, Ch 30, previous chapter, Ao3 Link, Lo’s, Pat’s and Virgil’s aesthetics, You are Magical, I’m dying to be with you, The Dreamer

Pairings: Logan/Patton, Roman/Virgil

Words: 12.491

Warnings: feeling everyone is against you, self-hate, cursing, mentioned addiction, mentioned past bullying

Summary: Detective Logan Sanders and his best friend and dorky partner Roman Prince have made a dear friend in the lovely pattisier Patton. Logan however, feels a lot more than friendship for the sweet man, even though he knows he cannot possibly have him. Their routine is broken abruptly when Logan finds bruises on Patton’s fair skin and slender wrists he could hardly have received from his costumary clumsiness.   Meanwhile his partner Roman has his own demon to fight, which comes in the form of a little delinquent who seemed to have been pulled into a street gang quite against his will. Roman is determined to help the strange young man. It would be so much easier though if he just stopped hissing at him!

Notes: Thanks so much to my betas @spootilious​ and @ultimate-queen-of-fandoms2​ for your continuous support and WELCOME TO ALL THE NEW PEOPLE WHO JOINED THE DISCORS SERVER! I am so happy you are all here! Anyone can join: Invitation:https://discord.gg/Y2WNAND

Also I thought I’d get out my stuffy Ko-fi page again since the story is two years old now and eating up huge portions of my life, in case anyone wants to support me. Reblogs and comments are just as welcome, though ;)

Chapter 33

Knowing how awkward Logan had been the first few days of waking up after a sleepover, and fearing an even worse reaction with Patton after falling asleep tangeld around each other, Roman cautiously chose to peek into the silent room the next morning. He was a valiant hero, after all. He would save his partner. 

Upon finding them still asleep - and fully dressed - Roman stormed the room and cheerfully forced himself between them, asking for kisses and breakfast and knowing full well there would have been an awful lot of stuttering and apologizing on both sides without his glittering presence. He grinned smugly as Patton sleepily giggled and snuggled into his arms.

Upon entering the kitchen, Virgil softly asked Patton if he was okay, as he had every morning now that the baker thought about it. Logan on the other hand flushed and tiptoed around him until Patton cornered him. 

“I’m sorry for making you worry.” He apologized once they had a moment to themselves and were able to settle down with some tea and cocoa, respectively, on the couch. Knowing Logan needed to have things explained carefully, he tried to put his stupid emotions into words that would cause as little harm as possible. 

“You didn’t do anything wrong at all, it’s all me! I just got so used to having things go bad every once in a while, when I do something dumb, that I started to expect it. I sometimes – I don’t know - I keep seeing bad things that aren’t there. It’s silly. I’m sorry.” Patton rambled, curling around his warm mug. 

“Your responses are far from silly, Patton. Please do not belittle yourself for your emotions.” Logan responded gently. His voice was deep and warm. He gazed at Patton’s pale, small hands quietly, at the light falling onto his silky curls, at his smooth, lovely face. His chest felt full with longing. The patissier was radiant in the sunlight bathing him, making him look bright and innocent and so brave. Logan could hardly breathe with how much he felt, suddenly. With how much he wanted Patton’s happiness. The urge to make things right was like an entity on its own, pushing at his ribcage, urging him to speak. He selected his words carefully. 

“Something must have caused your worries. It would calm me greatly to understand which behaviors have caused you to respond the way you did so I may prevent them in the future. I truly wish to make you feel safe in this flat. Please support me in my endeavor to understand.”

Patton couldn’t help but feel stupid and guilty as he was confronted with such honest, unjudging support. He swallowed hard. The difference between the image he had made up and the man begging him to be allowed to take care of him couldn’t be more obvious. Logan’s dark eyes were so warm when he looked at him. He wasn’t smiling or complimenting him, or telling him how great he was and promising him gifts and such, but Patton still felt like he mattered more than he ever had. Logan’s attention was entirely focused on him, his tall form angled towards Patton, as if he were everything he cared about. 

He wanted to apologize again and tell the detective that it was all his fault, that he shouldn’t worry. He also knew that Logan had developed a talent for seeing through his excuses. He wouldn’t be satisfied until Patton had told him how to help. 

“It really isn’t your fault, Logan. Please believe me! It’s all in my confused head, you can’t help it when I make things up. And it’s not just you anyway, which shows how much silliness I’m coming up with - you really can’t trust my little head.”

“I do not understand. Did somebody else make you uncomfortable?” Logan asked, straightening in alarm. Patton felt like he had been shoved in the chest. It took him a moment to realize that the fact that Logan had automatically assumed he alone was to blame had hurt. Why was it that they wanted to care for each other so badly and still kept rubbing each other the wrong way? Patton just wanted - he just wanted to give Logan so much. He wanted to touch him in ways that made him smile, not doubt himself.

“Well, it really is all me, when If I’m being really honest!” Patton hastened to remind him. “But I guess it’s really – whenever someone fights or makes loud noises or – or argues about something and gets angry – and that’s okay of course! It’s all my fault and you are not doing anything wrong, it’s all in my head! But- that just, it just makes me an itty bit anxious, you know? I mean- you probably don’t, being a strong detective and all. I just worry that you guys might get in a fight or that I did something wrong. I do that plenty after all. But like I said, it’s all me being oversensitive, you should just laugh about it and go on with your day. I’m sorry for being a bother!” 

Logan grew very silent after Patton’s explanation. Sightlessly staring at the tea in his hands, he tried to categorize the exchanges of the last weeks in the apartment. He had thought that they were all happy here. There hadn’t been any fights, any dramatic outbreaks or terrible mistakes he needed to fix. Virgil had grown so confident and Roman was happy. The pets were healthy and he had thought… he had thought Patton had everything he wanted. What arguments had upset the gentle man? Roman and him had been getting along as well as always. Virgil hadn’t had any visible adverse reactions to his therapy that he could think of either and he was clearly growing closer to Roman. 

Had he been angry? Had he fought with one of them and hadn’t seen the effect it had on Patton? He just couldn’t understand what his friend was referring to for a long moment. Everything had been going so smoothly between him and the others. What could he have been doing that would be considered aggressive by a victim of abuse, such as the pâtissier?

It dawned to him quite abruptly. He’d been angry indeed. Just this morning he had grabbed Roman and growled at him for being dramatic and causing them stress over his gloves. His irritating partner had been howling about it too. Loudly. He had hardly noticed the sheer amount of noise he was making anymore; or the fact that he, himself, was apparently constantly frustrated with him. He didn’t mean it, after all. 

The realization that Logan was indeed annoyed at one thing or another all the time came as a shock to him. He had been so content. He hadn’t noticed…

It was so natural for him to complain and lecture others, especially Roman, who liked to have his attention. It was part of their dynamic. He liked to grumble and his partner liked to wail and whimper and demand he be treated with admiration and given the pity his various plights deserved. They bickered like siblings because this was what had gotten them close to each other in the beginning of their friendship, when they hadn’t felt comfortable enough to ask for friendly cuddles. It was their way. He showed his affection in this manner. Whenever he grabbed Roman, his friend would lean into him or playfully wiggle about, letting him carry his weight. When he wanted to initiate contact, he woefully sighed or whimpered and draped himself over Logan. They shoved and bickered and roughhoused with each other to show their mutual affection and wish for contact. 

Had Patton seen something he had missed? What if he had misinterpreted their interactions all those years? Was Logan actually insulting Roman? Was he unhappy as well? Was he secretly resenting him?

What about Virgil? He’d been so hurt and disappointed by the men he’d trusted. Did he feel threatened? 

Logan felt like a sudden weight pressed on his chest. It hurt so badly he flinched from the sudden rush of agony. He drew a sharp breath, trying to control his twisting features. He was suddenly afraid he would start to cry and be absolutely helpless to stop it. Biting the inside of his cheek hard, he barely managed to place the tea on the table. His hands were shaking. He had to compose himself. Losing control and falling apart in front of Patton would be too much to bear. 

His thoughts kept circling, defying his attempts to force them into order. What had he done? He couldn’t think clearly. His breath hitched. He felt like everyone was looking at him. Like they were talking about him, wishing he was gone. Like they used to in school, like the other children used to, wherever he went. He had thought they had been getting along. He had thought they had liked him – he’d tried so hard to always help with their exercises and tell them about the things he cared about, he had thought that they wanted to hear-  but he’d misread the situation. He just couldn’t understand them. The shock of learning he had been hated by the other students in his class without even knowing, it had felt nothing like the possibility of having forced his family to live with a man that hurt them. 

His mind was racing, churning up more and more scenarios that horrified him. There were so many reasons why they could feel forced to stay with him, to pretend they liked the man that was actually making them miserable. Virgil had nowhere to go. He would have to accept any situation that kept him out of harm’s way or out of prison, and Logan had been the key to his freedom. Roman needed someone to look after him, being all alone in the world without a steady presence, who else would he have turned to, but the man who’d bullied him into living with him? Patton had been pulled out of the steady relationship that had been his life and was now essentially homeless, helpless to go anywhere else, for fear of the man that might be waiting for him, not even able to rent his own place since his finances were still entangled with that man’s. Was it like the last time, where he had been the one that alienated everyone, the one who didn’t understand when he hurt feelings, the one everyone talked about behind his back? Was he suddenly going to be alone again? Before Roman, he had eventually given up. He had isolated himself to protect himself from this feeling, certain he couldn’t bear it a second time. And he had been right. His chest felt like something was breaking. 

He stumbled as he rose, barely seeing what was in front of him through his blurred vision. He couldn’t be looked at anymore. Every look felt like an assault. He needed to hide. 

“I’m sorry. Please- please excuse me. I am so sorry.” He stuttered, shakily wiping his eyes and nearly losing his glasses. He hit his shin on the edge of the coffee table but kept going, feeling his face heat with shame. 

“Logan, wait please! What’s wrong? I’m sorry I upset you, please-” Patton pleaded. He was frightened. Logan had scared him and now he was trying to placate him so he wouldn’t hurt him again- 

This was too much. 

Logan stumbled into the corridor, feeling panic well up in him. There were footsteps behind him, following him. He barely made it to the bedroom and slammed the door behind him too loudly. He hadn’t meant to do that! Every sound he made was too loud, he was doing everything wrong and he hadn’t even noticed. 

He hardly managed to turn the key with his shaking hands, needing the little bit of security it afforded him like the air he breathed. Tears were streaming down his face now. He couldn’t stop remembering Patton’s fear when he had reached out to him in his flat, broken and bleeding. What had he put him through after he’d thought he had rescued him? He’d thought he had finally learned to understand, but everything he believed was wrong again. 

He sank down against the door, covering his ears with his hands so hard the way he squished his glasses against his skull hurt, rocking back and forth in his curled-up position. It was too much. Everything felt overwhelming to him!

There were voices on the other side of the door, loud and rushed. 

 “The fuck happened, man?” Virgil growled. Stress was making his voice rougher than intended. He had seen Logan flee from the room, completely out of it and couldn’t help the tide of protective anger. 

Patton flinched, backing away from the door. His eyes were bright. 

“I- I don’t know! I messed up, I think. I’m so sorry. I’m sorry, Virgil!” He cried, hugging himself and looking smaller than he had in weeks. 

Fuck. 

Virgil took a deep, calming breath and told himself not to be an asshole for once. 

“It’s okay, Pat. I’m sorry I yelled. I’m, like, really fucking anxious right now, but I’m sure you didn’t do anything wrong. It happens. I’m not mad at you, man. Please, just- Roman, deal with this?” He asked, knowing when he reached his limit with emotional bullshit. His worry for Logan was already too much and seeing Patton hurt was frankly agonizing. It was more than he could bear. Roman would stay calm and be big and gentle and reassuring no matter what was wrong. He was amazing like that – nothing like Logan and him, who were, if he were quite honest, a mess when if came to vulnerable, emotional shit.

“Hey, it’s all good dearest Patton.” Roman crooned at the frazzled baker softly, reaching out to him with hands that were so tender. “Why don’t you come with me and we’ll hug it out? Our brilliant Virgil will fix everything and we fabulous darlings will get ourselves some well-deserved cuddles. Sounds good?” 

Patton didn’t really get a chance to worry about making a decision since the detective was already bundling him up in the warmest embrace, tugging his little body against his bigger one. Roman allowed them a moment to rub his cheek against soft curls and hum a soothing melody. 

Having moved them both back to the couch, he made sure to pull the smaller body between his legs and wrap him all up in his embrace. Keeping up a calming chatter, he rubbed his hands over the slender back and through his hair, hoping to slow his frightened little heart. 

“I’ve got you, sweetest Patton. No one is angry at you. All will be well, I promise. We love you. Take a deep breath for me, okay? Logan will be just fine. We’ll always fix everything together and no one will be hurt or mad. We’re a family, we’ll get over the drama and have cocoa. That’s it.”

His voice was deeper and softer than usual, lacking all of the shrill, loud notes that had recently made Patton’s nerves flutter fearfully. He sounded certain and loving. Squeezing his eyes shut, he listened to his tender words. 

 Virgil pressed his ear against the wood, trying to determine what to do. He couldn’t hear Logan at all and he didn’t want to upset him even more by demanding anything. Should he call Remy and make him talk to the detective? His phone was out here though, and he’d need to get him to open the door first. 

Pushing the emotional mess onto someone else sounded so tempting, but he knew Logan would be ashamed to talk to his old friend like that. Also, he had an idea about what had happened. Patton had grown frightened of- everything, really. He was starting to put it together properly only now that he had seen just how afraid he��d just looked. He guessed the same insecurity he had gone through himself had to be expected. But of course, it would be different for Patton. Virgil had thought Logan was the right one to fix it because- because he had fixed everything for him. He trusted the man so much because he gave him so much more stability and safety than he had ever experienced before. His touch always felt safe to Virgil and he always trusted him to listen and understand, because the way their minds worked was so similar in a way.

He was a fucking idiot. 

Logan was acting like a father to him, platonically loving him and protecting him. His touch was safe. Virgil’s expectations towards him were safe. But to Patton, he was something else. Patton had been abused by the man he’d loved, so the relapse would of course make him project onto Logan most because he was closest to a romantic partner. The baker liked him. Their cuddles, despite how innocent and well intended, were never as platonic as Virgil’s and Logan’s. Of course he would think that if anyone was going to grow abusive as he clearly expected, it would be the man he unconsciously saw as a potential lover. If he kept projecting the fear that asshat had instilled in him onto Logan, they were in for quite a ride. 

Virgil sighed. He should have seen this coming. He was such a fucking idiotic idiot. 

If Patton had told Logan he was scared of him, Logan would overthink for sure – because he was also an idiot. He was probably in there thinking everyone was afraid of him and feeling like he had run over a baby bird or some shit. Someone with a pathological need to help would of course spiral right into self-hate. Hello, old friend. 

Well, Virgil was nothing if not a manipulative bitch. 

“Logan?” He called softly, knocking on the door far more quietly than he wanted to. 

“Logan, you’re scaring me. Please let me in! I’m worried you’ll hurt yourself, I can’t lose you too. Please let me in!” He begged, making his voice high and frightened and feeling absolutely no remorse whatsoever for once. 

The door was fumbled open as soon as his apparently fearful words had left his lips. The fucking sap. 

Logan was disheveled and looked like he’d tried to wipe his tears off to hide them. He looked heartbroken and painfully shy. And he’d still opened the door because of Virgil’s pleading. 

Fuck him, Virgil loved him so much.

He gave the startled, wide eyed man a hard push in the chest, angry at being forced to feel so much. How dare he think Virgil didn’t love him?!

“You’re such a- a fucking-” 

He lunged at him and buried his face in the conservative sweater, squeezing so hard Logan wheezed for breath. 

“You’re such a moron, man! Now hug me!” He demanded, holding on for dear life. Clearly utterly confused, Logan obeyed unsteadily. 

“You clueless idiot.” Virgil growled into the cable-knit, hating how wet his voice sounded. Why was there always so much fucking drama in this flat?! 

“Shake all those stupid thoughts out of your head and listen to me, okay? You don’t get to be a paranoid piece of shit, that’s my job!” 

Logan drew a breath to complain and Virgil just knew he would try to tell him that he very much was not an idiot and that Virgil was not allowed to insult himself. Well, Virgil wasn’t going to let him turn this around onto him. However, he wished he was better at this. He wished he could just drop this emotional mess into Remy’s lap and hide under the covers where he could come to terms with how uncomfortably much he cared for Logan. He squeezed him tighter – effectively cutting him off before he could speak – pressing himself as close as he possibly could. There were no words for the things he felt. Patton and Roman probably had some; plenty, in fact. He didn’t, and neither did Logan. But his hands were uncertainly brushing over his back and Virgil liked that helpless, platonic affection very, very much. 

“You absolute dimwit! Don’t ever think we don’t – that we don’t – we want to be here with you, okay? I trust you and I never trust anyone, cause I’m not a moron who adopts people, but I trust you so fucking much and I’ve had to make too many fucking confessions lately; so can you please just believe that we are your family and that Roman wants to be your fucking puppy; and Patton is messed up beyond belief but he’s fricking enamored with you; and that I’d really like to end this conversation right now, alright?? Don’t make me say anything else or I’ll knock myself out on that dresser!”

Unsurprisingly, Logan was at a loss for words. Not that he could have said much, considering how tightly Virgil was currently squeezing his ribcage. His little delinquent’s hug really was quite aggressive. 

He didn’t feel frightened either. His face – as much as Logan could see of it – was bright red. The poor thing was clearly embarrassed and tired of baring his feelings this way. Logan couldn’t shake his insecurity, though. He could feel obligated to calm him, after all. Virgil was so dependent on him. Feeling lost and just wishing he could bury his face in the once again tangled, purple hair he liked to groom, Logan tried to make his embrace as safe and comfortable as possible to his little charge. How he wanted to protect him from the world. The frame under his hands was still so thin and slender. He didn’t know how to articulate the rush of warmth he felt. He wanted to ask more questions, desperate to be reassured the things he wished for so dearly were true, but he felt Virgil’s tiredness, and he shared it. Trying to understand the way people talked - silent and illogical just with their bodies and gestures and the insinuations he failed to understand – it was still confusing to him sometimes, and when he thought he had gotten something wrong, he tended to overanalyze every interaction he had had with that person until he didn’t trust himself anymore. He was just tired. 

Embarrassed and stressed out of his mind, Virgil hid his face in their embrace and wished he could just crawl under the heavy, dark covers of his bed right now - the bed Logan had given him with all the books and space for his things and that citrus geranium that endlessly frustrated him with its wilting leaves. Pitying the poor, nerdy fool for his useless attempts, Virgil had started programming a sensor to monitor the plant’s humidity and sunlight intake for Logan. He had grown worried about the amount of annoyance that one dying plant caused the detective, okay? He didn’t want the dude paying his metaphorical rent to have a fucking stroke, that was all. And maybe he just wanted him to be happy. He had thought it might be something they could do together, though he hadn’t dared approach him about it yet. He didn’t want to annoy Logan with his nerdy ideas, and he hadn’t done something like this in so long. If his fucked-up mind made him mess this up he could never live it down. However, Remy’s voice telling him to quit being a drama queen and like, gush with the other massive nerd about his nerdy projects was clear in his memory. He didn’t want to talk feelings anymore. He wanted to huddle together with Logan and just fucking lose himself in something that made sense. Was it too much to ask to just be together? He thought that perhaps, it actually wasn’t. 

Making a decision, Virgil suddenly used his wiry muscles to push his body against Logan’s, toppling them onto the bed. He wasn’t going to talk this out. No sir, not this time. They both needed a fucking break. 

Logan huffed in surprise, especially since he was unexpectedly being pushed around by sharp elbows and bony shins until he had been shuffled into a position where Virgil could comfortably tuck himself under his arm and lay his head on his shoulder. Wrestling his phone out of his hoodie’s pocket, the younger man pulled up a still blank looking app that showed little else but two buttons on a white screen. 

“Wanna show you something.” Virgil muttered half into his wool sweater before launching into an explanation about the app he was programming. Logan was instantly intrigued. Wrapping his arm around his little one, he pulled Virgil close to navigate the still almost empty display with him, getting lost in the fluttering, enthusiastic feeling a fascinating project gave him. Virgil’s app could monitor the factors influencing growth and compare them to different locations in the flat or different amounts of moisture in the soil. Perhaps this way he could finally attempt to grow a lemon tree once again. He’d failed three times before giving up. The Failure still irked him.  

Before long, both men had comfortably cuddled together, discussing the advantages of a stainless-steel sensor as opposed to the inferior plastic ones other projects were using. Virgil was warm and small in his arm. His muscles were loose and he made sure to push and shove at Logan when he wanted to curl up more or wanted a certain space. Everything about him spoke of trust. 

Though Logan attempted to keep his touch respectful, being acutely aware of the fears that could awaken in his little charge, Virgil gave him no signals of discomfort. His heart beat steadily where his chest was pressed against Logan’s side and his breathing was even and calm. He sounded pleased when Logan complimented his ideas. Undoubtedly, Roman would be able to tell him if he really as relaxed as the factors he was monitoring were suggesting. He could see it all from nothing but a look. 

Roman never failed to tell him when he had messed up or needed to back off. Didn’t that speak of confidence? They had some difficult conversations about his actions in the past and his partner had always trusted him to tell him the truth. Certainly, he had told him plenty of times that he was limiting Roman’s heroic brilliance or ruining his entrance and such, but he had never complained about feeling hurt by Logan. Wouldn’t he at least have told him? But what about Patton? He had always suffered in silence rather than asking for help – or to stop. 

Logan gasped as bony fingers stabbed him in the side. 

“You’re thinking too loudly, dude.” Virgil complained, feeling ignored. He shouldn’t be surprised Logan needed things spelled out for him. He was Logan after all. 

Sighing as if he was forced to do something terrible by disentangling out of the embrace that had been warm and really fucking nice, he rose without much enthusiasm and yanked on Logan’s arm. 

“C’mon, you poor sod. Let Roman tell you how much he loves you. He might want to lick your face.”

“There will be no need for any of that.” The detective grumbled, reluctantly letting the smaller man pull him along. He didn’t know if he would be brave enough to face Patton without the aggressive interference. His face grew hot at the memory of the way he had fallen apart in front of him. He felt quite humiliated by his reaction. Patton had trusted him with his fears and he had made it all about himself and had made a fool of himself. Without the control he protected himself with he felt vulnerable. Naked even, as if his defenses had been torn away. This wasn’t how he’d wanted to be seen. 

Feeling his friend’s feet drag with shame, Virgil wrapped an arm around Logan’s middle and offered him strength through their silent contact. He still did not want to talk about feelings, it was exhausting, but he could always lend the support of his body. He was learning to use it in different ways, lately. 

Patton and Roman both sat up straight as they entered the living-room. From the way Logan hung his head in the futile attempt to hide his blush, it was clear to Roman what his friend needed now. It was his favorite partner’s love! 

Giving Patton an encouraging pat on the shoulder on the way, the young detective wasted no time wrapping Logan (and Virgil – who was conveniently wrapped in Logan’s arm, sue him) into his embrace. His little wildcat gave an irritated little growl but since he was largely ignored in favor of pecking annoying kisses all over his partner’s face, he let the cuddling slide. After all, they both smelled good and were comfy and shit. 

Logan turned his heated face away into Virgil’s hair, grumbling incoherently. He was too hot under the sweater and starting to get the feeling he needn’t have worried about Roman and Virgil after all. The little barista was comfortably leaning against him, letting him take his weight, and his partner was – he was reasonably certain – trying to annoy him in order to lighten the mood. He had overreacted once again. They must think him a dramatic child. He felt very, very inadequate. 

Perceptive as always, Roman angled them so his friend could hide his burning cheeks from sight. The poor man was probably mortified at showing emotions in front of the people who regularly suffered emotional accidents around him. 

“All is well now, my adoring fans. Prince Roman, beloved hero and winner of the Medal of Valor is here!” He cooed, hoping to get a rise out of them and lighten the mood. Virgil snorted. He made sure to push himself close to Logan and allow him to feel the way he was holding on to his sweater for support. 

Virgil would have liked to stay in this position longer and allow Roman to take the weight of the attention onto his broad shoulders, but Patton was still cowering at the edge of the sofa, wide eyed and anxious. His shoulders seemed very small. Though he was entirely silent, his small hands were nervously fidgeting with his long sleeves. He looked lost. 

The barista ached with pain for his friend. He had put himself through years of abuse to shield his piece of shit boyfriend and had blamed himself for his issues whenever he was suffering of whatever bullshit he got himself into. Patton was all about saving people. Having hurt someone he loved must be the worst kind of torture for him. Add to that the fear of retribution and he must be in one hell of a mess. And of course Virgil had attacked him after Logan’s little breakdown. Of course he had. 

Though he was torn about forcing Logan to face his fear of having frightened the baker, Virgil gently tried to free himself from the tangled embrace, which wasn’t easy since he was squished in the middle. 

Being especially weary about restricting his youngest guest, Logan immediately released the shorter man from under his arm, pulling his limbs close to his chest. Roman pounced and pulled his partner in again, humming to him lovingly. He would be patient to take this one step at the time. 

Virgil was feeling less than patient, to be quite honest. Why did they keep stepping into piles of emotional shit when all they wanted was to live quietly with each other and sometimes ogle Roman’s ass? (that might just be him, though) He just wanted Logan and Patton and Roman - the fucking, special dork - to be allowed to be fine. Was that too much to ask?!

Of course, despite Virgil wanting nothing but to protect his friend, Patton saw the frustration written clearly all over the slim features of the moody young man. His breath hitched. 

Aw shit. 

Virgil may be emotionally stunted to the point of still kind of hating Remy for making him want to talk to him, but he wasn’t blind. Especially to Patton. It was easy to see why he was ending up in those emotion-shitpiles. He kept aiming for them and jumped right in. He’d thought Patton would focus on Logan because – well, he still remembered being scared out of his mind as he had sat at his desk, cuffed and desperate and Logan had been furious about the pain of his partner. It had made sense, too. Logan was the responsible adult in the flat and Pat was used to the men responsible for him to turn on him, but it wasn’t just him. Virgil was doing it too, and more often than he had noticed initially. 

Making sure to appear nonthreatening – which normally wasn’t hard, considering how hunched and slim he still was, he pulled his sleeves over his hands and looked at Patton through his purple bangs. The baker swallowed visibly and attempted to smile at him, uncertainly. 

“Look, Pat, can we talk? It’s all good though. I wanna apologize. You’re not in trouble. ‘s fine.” He mumbled, looking down at his shoes. Swallowing hurt, suddenly. His throat felt tight. 

Patton didn’t speak. He was very pale.

‘You can do this.’ Virgil reminded himself as old, familiar pain rose in him upon being surrounded by suffering loved ones. ‘You took care of your mom and you’ll take care of him now. You can fix this. Just start somewhere.’ 

“Um, I – I think I messed up, I guess. ‘m sorry, man. I was really out of line before and I think I kinda scared you just now. Can we, um – can we talk about that? Please?”

Apparently finding the courage to speak in the face of Virgil’s scratchy voice, Patton finally responded with forced cheer in his voice. 

“Don’t you worry, kiddo! It’s all fine! There’s nothing to worry about. I get a little messy sometimes but that’s all my fault. You all don’t need to take it on your shoulders, please don’t do that! I’m really sorry for upsetting you all! This whole thing is my fault – please, just ignore me and don’t let silly little me worry you! I’m really sorry.” He rambled, glancing at Logan still squished in Roman’s embrace. He bit his lip, his eyes suspiciously bright, before he smiled at Virgil once again. Seeing Logan hide in his partner’s arms, clearly feeling too ashamed to face them, appeared to unbalance him. 

Yes, Virgil got that. Logan was supposed to be strong and seeing him insecure hurt in all kinds of ways that resonated deep in Virgil, pulling sharply at old wounds. Seeing the person you relied on weak and helpless cut you as if you were a child losing the protection of a parent. It never stopped hurting. Roman had situation that figured out, though. He joked quietly with his partner and finally simply pulled them both to the ground like a playful child, ignoring the complaints, and settled them against the bookshelves covering the first part of the living-room. Nicodemus had clambered onto the lowest shelf and wanted attention. With a little hop, he jumped onto his human’s shoulder, quieting his annoyance. 

Hidden half behind the couch and visually separated from the others by the wooden beams loosely enclosing the little library, Roman finally managed to give his friend a bit of security by offering the safety of his large body to lean against. They were still close enough to be there for the others and later reassure Logan, but for now he had a moment to compose himself again. 

That worked fine for Virgil. He didn’t know how he would have been expected to ignore the terrible fear for his protector, had Roman not calmly and sweetly taken over soothing him. Come to think of it, maybe the dork had the right idea with the cuddly, comfy shit. 

“Um, hey… how about we sit and figure it out together, okay?” He offered tentatively. The kitten and Cat were on the couch as well, unravelling a ball of string and in Cat’s case trying to bite it into submission for tangling around her little hand-paws. 

Patton nodded obediently, quickly rushing to clean up a place for them by tidying away Roman’s drawings and his knitting needles. Whatever progress he seemed to have made with Logan yesterday seemed to have crumbled in the face of actually making their most reliable protector crumble from his words. Virgil knew those moments where no amount of rationality could cut through the pain of having failed the person you love. Even if you had given up your education, your dreams, your time and health and safety, every failure replayed in your mind, pressing you down with guilt. 

Virgil tried to swallow his memories through the heaviness in his chest. He ran a suddenly shaking hand over his face. He had relied on Logan and Patton so much to give him strength and structure and confidence and now one of them was still silently cowering on the floor, uncharacteristically small and fearful of the confrontation with Patton and still flushed hot with shame, and the other looked at him like he expected him to shout. His Patton. It was a position he had never expected to be in, anymore. One of the reasons he had left the Scorpions was because he couldn’t forget the pale, frightened face of the slight baker and now they were back, full circle, knee deep in a pile of emotional shit. 

“Hey, no no no, c’mere, kiddo.” Patton cooed suddenly. His hands were still warm while Virgil’s had grown weak and cold. He pulled Virgil on the couch with him and without hesitation, into his arms. His little body folded against the barista like a cat’s, flexible and trusting. Running his fingers through the purple mess, Patton rocked him slightly. 

“It’s okay. I’ll be fine. I’m so sorry for scaring you, Kiddo. I just get like that sometimes. I know I shouldn’t and it’s stupid, so you can just ignore it and it’ll go away. There’s no reason to feel bad at all - you are doing wonderfully. Please don’t think about it. I love you so very much.” He promised, his voice tender and honey sweet. He nuzzled their faces together and curled them up comfortably, making Virgil feel so so small. Like a child in his mother’s arms. Taking a shuddering breath, he held on. 

“That’s okay, Pat. I get like that, too. Just… different. I um – Remy says I get aggressive instead, and try to – to push people away and expect the worst of them – cause… cause of the – because after my mom… when she got – she got sick I…”

“You don’t have to tell me.” Patton mercifully whispered against his hair, impossibly loving. Virgil hadn’t even realized how irregular his breathing had become. He had almost told him about- his heart hammered in his chest with a sudden rush of terror. What the fuck had possessed him?! 

After counting his breathing to get his shit together, Virgil tried again to make his point. 

“Pat, I’m trying to- to tell you that I get it. I totally do. You go through all that shit and it fucks you up – sorry, I’m sorry – it messes you up and you expect to see sh-stuff around every corner and – and that’s fine! Remy says it’s normal and if we talk about it with – with them, they’ll get it. We’ve got triggers, man, and that’s okay. We triggered Logan a little bit and that happens, too. Now we know, right? I’ve got triggers and you’ve got them too, and we walked right in cause we’re all morons cause we don’t talk – cause it’s f-ing horrible. But – can we talk about it? Please?”

“Oh, of course. I’d like to know what makes you and… and Logan anxious. I didn’t want to hurt him.” Patton mumble quietly, very aware that the detective was still in the same room and they hadn’t cleared up the situation yet. His heart raced with anxiety over his reaction. 

A little grunt signaled Roman wordlessly telling Logan his moment had arrived. With his elbow. 

The detectives slunk around the couch and gently folded themselves on the free space on the couch, Roman shamelessly curling close to his partner and laying his arm over the armrest against Logan’s shoulders. Though he didn’t seem quite able to look Patton in the eye yet, Logan hesitantly spoke up.

“I believe a substantial amount of anxiety could have been prevented on every side had our communication been more efficient. I would like to discuss the situation in a nonjudgmental setting. Would you be willing to talk to us, Patton?” 

The baker fidgeted with Virgil’s hoodie nervously, shrinking a little under all the attention. The younger man in his arm gave him comfort, though. 

“Of course! I’ll do anything to make it okay. I’m really sorry I did this.” He promised softly. 

Logan took a deep breath, his shoulders rising and falling with it. Patton feared he was trying to hold back his anger. They were all here and stressed because of him. He had thought they had figured it out together yesterday but this time, he really was the one who had messed up. Never, in a million years, had he expected Logan to fall apart like that because of something he had said. He was still shaken to the core by the detective’s sudden vulnerability. 

“Patton, may I ask you to stop apologizing?” Logan asked gently, finally looking at him through slightly reddened eyes. “There is no need to blame yourself. You have done nothing wrong. No one is upset with you. We merely wish to prevent further misunderstandings.”

“Oh.” Patton muttered, suddenly realizing just how much he’d been apologizing with a rush of shame. Trevor had told him how irritating his stupid repetitions were. 

“I’m sorry.” 

The words were out before he had any hope of composing himself. His breath caught in his throat, heat flooding his cheeks. He barely swallowed the urge to apologize for failing even at this simple request. Not knowing how to fix the situation, he fell silent, waiting for them to scoff at him. He had been doing so much better yesterday, why was he here again? Couldn’t he learn?

“It is alright, Patton.” Logan offered mercifully. 

“But… I hurt you. I didn’t mean to.” Patton added, somehow trying to convey how sorry he was. He couldn’t seem to forget the look on his friend’s gentle, handsome face. 

“I never believed you would harm me intentionally, Patton. You could not have known that your confession would cause me such anxiety. Addressing a topic that needs to be discussed is your right and I would like to encourage you to continue to bring such issues to my attention without fear. It lies in the nature of psychological triggers to cause severe reactions despite appearing insignificant to others. Perhaps, to improve your comprehension of the situation, I ought to explain that I was taken back to a memory from my childhood. Due to the fact that I am autistic, I read situations wrong quite frequently and thus unknowingly alienate my peers. I am afraid my failure to understand the discomfort you have felt in our home has forcefully reminded me of the possibility of a misinterpretation of the personal relationships in my life.” 

Patton stilled, trying to take Logan’s words in. There was so much that hit him right in the heart. Logan was autistic? He felt like a light had been turned on suddenly and was illuminating their interactions in an entirely different way. He wanted to ask a million questions! This actually made a lot of sense. His head was spinning with the revelation and the new understanding it brought. He could picture little Logan quite clearly now, trying to understand the things that were still difficult to him now, but must have been impossibly confusing back then. He must have been so hurt by the other children! Pain shot through his chest like a living, furious thing ripping at his organs. Little wide eyed, nerdy, vulnerable Logan appeared before his mind’s eye and it felt like a punch, like he was drowning in sorrow. Patton had put him through that again. He was such an idiot, how could he have missed it? Logan had doubted himself so badly and he knew how much that hurt. Patton should have known sooner, Logan had obviously struggled with reading a room, but he had blinded the baker with how skillfully he handled all of his messes with his deep, commanding voice and confident hands. It was just that sometimes he lost control and showed how hard everything must be for him. Though he badly wanted to apologize again, to tell him how sorry he was for causing all of that stress and anger, especially after Logan had comforted him, he wanted to reassure him even more.

“I’m – but – you know that I care about you, right? I was just being stupid. Please don’t think that I or anyone else doesn’t trust you or doesn’t love you so much! You are the best friend I’ve ever had. You protect me and help me and I really – it’s really all my fault, you did nothing wrong! You are the smartest, kindest, most great and amazing man I’ve ever met! Ever! You’re a savior – my savior. Please believe me, everyone here loves you so much!” Patton exclaimed, helplessly grabbing Logan’s hand in his attempt to make him see. There was so much he felt for his friend, his heart was so full, it would burst if he felt more for Logan. He could barely handle himself from how much he wanted. He had never, ever wanted someone to know he was loved as much as him. 

The detective startled as his hand was clutched, gently returning the hold. His smile was bittersweet. 

“Thank you, Patton. Your kindness is appreciated. Perhaps I ought to have told you two sooner. It is possible that I still, subconsciously, attempt to pass for a neurotypical person. A foolish attempt, certainly. I will try to be more honest with you from now on.” 

“You’re not that bad, man.” Virgil mumbled bashfully, awkwardly trying to break the silence that had fallen over them as they processed the detective’s words. They clever young man was clearly unsurprised by Logan’s confession. Roman smiled at him for his contribution, silently comforting his partner. 

“I am… relieved to learn our relationship is not damaged beyond repair. And I would like to remind you once again that you do not need to apologize or take the blame for my issues. They are quite beyond your control.”

“What my bumbling, brilliant best bud is trying to say-” Roman chimed in, giving his friend a break, “is that we all have our little issues. They give us character and that is charming! They are part of our exciting origin stories! Even I, fearless Detective Roman Prince, owner of the Medal of Valor, have my own demons to vanquish.” He boasted, raising his free arm dramatically to pose. Suddenly feeling the supportive, undivided attention of his friends rest heavily on him (even the pest sniffed at his nose), he grew a little more quiet. Talking about his triggers was not fun, even for one as marvelously brave and exceptionally well adjusted as Roman. However, if he wanted his lovely dorks to finally open up, someone needed to make the start. 

“I… you know my sister died from an overdose, right?” 

Patton gasped. 

Or maybe not. Oops.

“Oh my god, I am so so sorry for springing that on you, fair Patton! But all is well, please don’t fret. I shall tell you about it all another time if you like. You truly mustn’t worry about me.”

Patton nodded bravely, clutching onto Logan’s hand hard and holding Virgil so tightly he wheezed a little bit. Roman worried for his ribs. Yet knowing this conversation must be had in order to coax Patton – and perhaps even his stormy night –  to open up, he marched on.

“So, because of my sister, I don’t handle drug abuse and such issues as glamorously as I usually do. And… because of… reasons…” Roman trailed off lamely, not trusting Patton’s bright eyes enough to also tell him about his neglectful childhood. Forcefully cheerful, he continued, “Yes, so sometimes when people ignore me intentionally or not or things get too silent around me and no one pays attention to me I feel really sad and lonely, like no one will ever love me again.” 

Smiling brightly, Roman was met with deafening silence. 

From the other side of their group, Patton lunged at him and yanked him into his arms, squishing Logan and Virgil between them with strength born from pure protectiveness. He appeared emotional beyond words. 

Roman floundered a little, unbalanced by the awkward hug. It wasn’t so bad, though. Patton had somehow managed to climb half into Logan’s lap in order to get his arm around Roman, conveniently allowing the detective to hide his still flushed face in the baker’s neck and cushioning him between Patton and his rat. Poor Virgil had simply been dragged along – which he would have never allowed anyone else to do. To prevent him from tumbling off the couch, Logan had wrapped a quick, steadying arm around him, drawing his skinny body close. Virgil pawed and shifted against them a little, growling and grumbling, before sagging between them with a defeated sigh. The fuck was he supposed to do?! Tell Patton to release the suddenly iron tight grip on his hoodie? He didn’t think so. 

“Uh, are you alright, dearest Patton?” Roman inquired tentatively. The baker nodded, obsessively nuzzling the young detective’s face with his own like a bespectacled cat. It was hard not to feel soft and faint when he was loved so obviously. Carefully, he brought his arms up to wrap around Patton – and Logan as a consequence, and Virgil on the other side, safely pulling him against his large body, lending stability to their embrace. The barista folded his slender limbs just right to fit between Logan and Patton pleasantly, just where they needed him for their comfort. 

“It’s all good, lovely Patton.” Roman rumbled softly, filling the space between them with his deep, smooth voice. “We all fight our dark little demons that cling to our hearts, trying to tell us how small und unwanted we are. They are quite wrong, though, and sometimes we need someone to show us that.”

Remembering the path that brought him to confidently bump shoulders with Logan or push his head against his side for cuddles when they were working too quietly made his insides swell with emotion. It was a path both Patton and Virgil were walking right now; one they could join Logan and him on. 

“Life is like a dance, my dear.” Roman murmured into curly brown locks. “Even when you found the right partner, learning the rhythm and the steps has to be done together, whether it’s a passionate tango where you twirl and dip your partner or a comfortable waltz where you quietly hold each other close. Even Logan and I had to find the right way to twist and twirl around each other. And we stepped onto each other’s feet plenty.”

Logan huffed softly, remembering the tense beginning of their partnership all too well and not missing it in the least. 

“We were blessed with quite differing tempers, Logan and I.” Roman elaborated lightly. “I wanted his attention badly and tried to mold myself to what I believed to be his wishes. Every failed attempt to gain his approval felt like a person failure and discouraged me greatly. At the same time, Logan wanted my glittering friendship but felt irritated since he lacked the competence to appreciate my performance!” 

Logan groaned, tentatively adjusting his hold on Virgil, staying very still otherwise, so as not to make Patton uncomfortable with their close proximity. 

“Our cooperation suffered from a server lack of communication, as it turned out.” He added to Roman’s explanation.

“True! I mistakenly believed my stiff partner to wish for a boringly rugged, brash colleague to brood with – like Bruce Willis and such heroic, bland heterosexuals. There really isn’t a lot of material to mold my performance after, let me tell you! A travesty! But alas, we solved that pesky issue and I got to be the blessing you know and love!” Roman boasted, jostling a grumpy Virgil with his constant need to move around to embellish his story. 

Taking a moment to gather his thoughts, the young detective shifted so he could gently capture Patton’s chin to make him look at him. He wanted him to understand how much he understood his continued insecurity. The baker shyly returned his gaze. 

“Having found our style doesn’t mean everything was suddenly easy, though. Friendship takes time, and practice.” He explained kindly. Releasing him again, he made sure to smile lovingly at the unbalanced little thing. 

“Logan tried to show – in his own way – that he accepted me. But we were still two different people with different needs. I was cared for. For a long time, however, I suffered days where I could not see it. Logan needs a professional routine and sometimes silence to be able to work and I… I don’t do well with silence. When we worked a case, I sometimes got lost in my head, thinking Logan ignored me or that I had done something wrong, and he was pushing me away on purpose. As a response, I tried to gain his attention and approval any way I could think of – alienating and irritating him in the process.”

“Oh RoRo, I’m so sorry!” Patton mumbled tearfully. 

“Oh no, Patton, love, it’s all good – all’s well that ends well, right? Logan might have been unsure of what to do with a colorful delight such as myself, but having learned how much I wanted our friendship, he was determined to be there for me.”

Logan, having tensed during the story about their frictions, relaxed very slightly. 

“Being the literal nerd that he is, he decided to do what worked last time and took me out for a drink. Cocoa, this time, since alcohol is vile and disgusting, seriously! And he asked me what I needed from him, which is charming, but also slightly lacking in presentation – a renewed declaration of platonic love and perhaps a bouquet would not have gone amiss- ow!”

Feeling Logan’s annoyance and knowing he was still too mortified to draw attention to himself, Virgil took pity on him and poked Roman on his older friend’s behalf. All of them cringed at Roman’s high-pitched wail. 

“Alright, alright!” The dramatic detective whined, trying to get back to the story. “So, my dearest, most beloved partner made an effort to adjust to my needs and we talked – dreadfully boring, I know. No grand declarations of friendship for me! However, we found ways to make me feel more welcome and cared about, which took a bit of experimenting, as you can imagine! Oh! I was sure Logan made a book about it with graphs and such but I never asked!”

The stubborn silence of the older detective spoke volumes. Roman grinned brightly. 

“See, lovely Patton, the result of our efforts! Before learning to understand each other I would have missed the romance of a journal dedicated to my wellbeing – which I wanna see, pronto! And I would not have gotten quiet cuddles during his silent phases to be reminded of his undying devotion to me, or have his bickering, which is his attempt to reach out and shower me with the attention I so deserve!” Roman cheerfully explained, his eyes shining. He loved remembering all the little ways Logan tried to make him feel loved. 

“A dance between two people can look all sorts of ways, you know?” He elaborated. “Ours includes little ways of supporting each other which might not even look that nice to the uninvited spectator. How is one to know that our bickering and roughhousing is a sigh of our epic bromance, grown through trial and tenacity?”

Quietly, Logan spoke up finally. 

“I am afraid Roman is giving me too much credit. He actually handled our relationship with much more skill and subtlety than I would have ever been capable of. I had long feared making him uncomfortable with my unapproachable ways and complaints and had few, ineffective ideas about how to rectify the situation.”

Curiously, Patton eased his death grip on Roman, wanting to give Logan all of his attention. Their desperate knot of limbs eased into a comfortable huddle, thanks to Roman and Patton adjusting their hold on their partner and kiddo. 

“You must certainly have noticed that I tend to come across as rather cold and intimidating, which I am aware of - mostly. Unfortunately, I did not yet know how to make myself more approachable. Additionally, I had offended more than one colleague with my inappropriate reactions and feared a repeat my mistakes with Roman. As a result, I attempted to limit my verbal interactions to the bare essentials, or – frequently failing to uphold this intention – talked too much and too clinically out of nervousness. Roman invested a considerable amount of care and effort into the improvement of our communication, which I am grateful for. He supported me by patiently explaining my failures and helping me improve, and even by taking control of situations that have threatened to emotionally overwhelm me.”

“Awww!!!” Roman gushed, grinning so brightly his eyes shone and his whole face lit up attractively. He was stupidly pretty and Virgil was not okay. 

“There is no need for applause, my beloved fans!” The young detective exclaimed, raising his manicured hands to calm imaginary masses. “That bouquet I never got will do just fine! And that journal about your attempts to friend-court me – I demand you hand that over!”

“There is no such thing as a ‘friend-courting’ journal.” Logan growled, shuffling about feeling uncomfortably bashful in their cuddle pile with Roman half draped over his back. He didn’t dislodge his partner’s chin when it came to rest on his shoulder, though. 

Patton watched their grumpy, yet somehow soft interaction though a now clear gaze. Logan looked annoyed and flustered and Roman was being a demanding diva, yet they were intertwined in friendly cuddles. The baker was still feeling a little tense whenever their deep, rumbling voices dropped low (or high, in Roman’s case), but there was no denying the tenderness filling their interactions. Ducking his head close to Virgil, he was reminded of how thoroughly he had messed everything up today. Their love had always been so obvious to him and now he could barely look at Logan without shame. 

Shifting uncomfortably under Patton’s arm, Virgil started fidgeting with a loose thread on the soft cardigan he was pressed against. 

“When I got here, I thought Logan and Roman would lock me in.” He muttered softly even as his face heated and his heart started hammering. Nausea was already making its way into his throat, yet he knew Patton needed to know he wasn’t alone in this. 

The pâtissier tensed, his breath catching with surprise. Startled, he looked up at the pained faces of the detectives looking down at the bowed, purple head. 

“They didn’t, f’course. I was just being stupid paranoid. Logan gave me a key and a room I could lock and Roman was – he was a good guy. They both were. They never asked for anything or pushed me or… I was making a lot of stuff up and kept making everyone nervous cause of it. Logan had to arrest me, you see, cause of the Scorpions. I wanted to leave and he didn’t know that yet, cause I’d botched it, and I’d hurt Roman and… I should’ve been in jail and I didn’t understand why I wasn’t. They even risked their lives to save me which I just didn’t get. So, you know – I made up reasons for their kindness for a long time and started looking for clues to support my ideas and I kept reading things Roman did wrong, and he knew. I was a screw up and kinda anxious and aggressive and Logan kept calming me and Roman kept miserably trying to not scare the screw up, which is nice, man. Thank you.” He muttered softly, daring to glance up at Roman for just a moment. 

“But it’s okay, man. I’m starting to understand them better. There’s stuff I can do here – stuff I’m good at. I’m getting more comfortable with myself and that makes me less anxious about them and that makes them more calm – especially Roman. Logan is just – he’s really good at handling all that. He’s calm and - steady. And now I feel like… like things are getting better? But even that doesn’t mean they are perfect. I get… I still get issues and nightmares and stuff and I get angry, kinda a lot. Somehow, Roman knows how to deal with me when I’m like that. I don’t – I have no idea how he does it.” Virgil mumbled, trailing off softly. 

The group was very quiet, sensing he had to gather his courage. 

Clearing his throat and making extra sure not to look up from the protection of his bangs, Virgil took a deep breath. 

“I thought I’d gotten it under control, with you. Helping you. But I messed it up big time, didn’t I? I scared you and I wanna explain it to you, you don’t have to forgive me.” He cut Patton off before he managed to speak, gently capturing his soft hand and squeezing it, trying to swallow the pounding, frantic emotion brewing in him. 

“It’s just - I’m just mad at the world for not leaving you the fuck alone. Things keep happening all the time to you, and Remy and Logan try to help calm me but I -  sometimes I can’t deal with it any other way! I just hate that you get hurt. I just- I just want you to be happy. That’s why I’m mad. Not at you, but… for you, I guess.”

Patton sighed deeply, feeling tears gather. His kiddo. He was so small and frustrated and helpless and Patton could see what he meant. He understood, suddenly. 

“Oh. I hadn’t- I hadn’t thought of that. I just thought you’d be mad at me because – because I-”

“No one’s ever really mad at you, man. You’re a literal fucking angel.” Virgil interrupted tiredly.

“Language!”

“Sorry, man.” Virgil muttered demurely. But fuck him, he was tired. Emotions. He wanted back into Logan’s bed and snuggle up with him. He had the feeling if he fell asleep with his older protector, Logan would end up being the big spoon and that sounded quite safe. 

“I get it, though. I’m doing this a lot to you, aren’t I? I get mad all the time cause I’m an aggressive screw up and you have to take the fall. I didn’t notice I was making you nervous, but I’ll figure it out, okay? We can make you feel safe if you help us understand what’s got you spooked.”

“Okay.” Patton agreed finally. “But you have to stop saying you’re a screw up! You’re not! You’re the smartest kiddo I know and I am so proud of you! You mustn’t feel bad because I get a little anxious sometimes! I just love you a lot and want things to be well!”

“Sure, Pat.” Virgil promised, deflating after his emotion-dumping was finally done. He could see the worry on Patton’s face, see his mind working with his attempt to figure out what exactly Virgil had been afraid the detectives would do to him, but that horrifying conversation could wait till another day. Preferably in ten or twenty years. Or never.

Meanwhile, Patton was looking up at all of them. At Roman comfortably draping himself over Logan’s back, letting him take his weight while he wrapped his arms around his older colleague, lacing his fingers over the others stomach. At Logan still trying to avert his gaze despite keeping a gentle arm wrapped loosely around Patton’s back, and at Virgil who was involving himself in a staring match with Cat who had rolled away, clearly contemplating whether he wanted to drag the moody raccoon into their mess. 

Cat hissed at him. 

Bristling, Virgil hissed back. 

“I- um.”

Three pairs of eyes turned to Patton. 

“I wanted to thank you, for opening up and telling me all that. I know it must have been hard.” He murmured softly. 

There was so much he was still thinking about. Their exchange was like nothing he’d ever experienced. The way they all had learned to look out for each other because they had hurt their friends unintentionally gave him hope. These men were so kind and tender with their loved ones. They truly thought about their friend’s problems and tried to change in any way they could to be what the others needed. He had wondered how men such as Logan and Roman, who were so different, had managed to become so in tune with each other. It seemed like they had worked hard to get where they were and now, they were offering the same effort to Virgil – and to him. He was awed by their willingness to forgive his failures and the pain he had caused. He’d grown used to bearing the pain alone and being the one to keep trying to adjust, to do better and offend less and please a partner who wouldn’t be pleased with himself. He’d never been looked after this way. 

With renewed confidence, he smiled at them, genuine and grateful. 

Finally, Logan smiled back. 

Though his posture was still not as confident as usual, the expression transformed his face and made him look soft and approachable. Like the kind of man that would soothe a defensive creature like Virgil with calm words or heal Patton with his gentle hands on him. 

“There is no need to thank us, Patton. Considering the amount of times we have misunderstood each other, a conversation is long overdue and will benefit all of us.” 

Patton’s little heart fluttered at the smooth tone of that deep voice. It was like Logan was intentionally speaking more quietly in order to soothe him. The pitch made his dark voice all kinds of rumbly. Patton felt a little nervous flutter upon being spoken to that way. Trying not to let his silly reaction show, he plastered a big smile onto his face. 

“Okay. Alright. So it looks like it’s confession time! Buckle up, kids!”  

Roman grinned at him encouragingly. 

“Okay.” Patton said again, trying to sort out his thoughts and make the words come. Whenever he opened his mouth to speak it was as if something lodged itself into his throat, snatching his breath away. How did you tell your friends who had washed the blood off your body and accepted you into their home that he had been uncomfortable in their care? It was impossible. 

Virgil leaned away from him briefly to snatch up Cat, somehow avoiding the sharp claws that tried to free her from emotional support duty. Snorting, Virgil pressed her back against his stomach and settled her into his lap, aggressively loving her. 

“You’re a bristly beast, you know that? You keep pulling threads and gnawing on the furniture and you have an attitude.” Cat snapped her jaws at him. “That’s okay.” Virgil promised. “I dig it.”

Wrapping his arms around her more comfortably, Virgil allowed her to leave if she wanted to. She bit his thumb with sharp little teeth before curling her fluffy, striped tail around his elbow and settling in. 

Patton laughed softly, recognizing the attempt to make him more comfortable with his confession. He loved Virgil so much. 

“Okay.” He whispered one last time. “So, I – I sometimes get a bit antsy, because Trevor and I – we used to fight a lot. I can be a little difficult, after all. And I guess I got a little used to looking for reasons to worry, since there was always another thing to argue about. And you all didn’t do anything wrong! You are all wonderful and I know you wouldn’t do anything mean! But… there are some things I felt- that made me a bit… insecure, I guess.”

“What things are those, sweet Patton?” Roman inquired gently, keeping his voice soft. 

“Oh, just little things. Nothing to worry about! I’m just overly nervous, is all! I guess I’m just too sensitive.” Patton confessed, trying one last time to avoid making his friends uncomfortable. Neither of them took the bait, though. 

“Pat, it’s okay.” Virgil nudged him with his shoulder before grabbing Nugget’s middle as it tried to climb over them to get to its human and settled it into his friend’s arms. It curled its head and rolled into a purring ball.

“Yes, right. Sorry.” Patton amended. “So, I just worry sometimes, when I get nervous from time to time and start expecting things, when someone raises their voice it makes me a bit frightened. And… you guys just bicker with each other sometimes -  when Roman starts complaining I get worried you guys might fight and when Logan has something to complain about because we make a mess, I worry that things might get… bad. And… and sometimes when Virgil gets annoyed at something – which I think is wonderful! I love that you’re passionate – but I – I just hear nothing but the tone, sometimes, and not what is being said. It’s stupid. I’m sorry.”

The group grew very quiet after Patton’s confession. The pâtissier was stoically looking at the kitten, trying to hide the gathering tears, while the men in his life tried to come to terms with his confession.  

Finally, Roman reached around Logan and wrapped a warm, large hand around Patton’s where they were cradling the kitten. “It’s not stupid, sweet Patton. Your feelings are natural and you deserve to have them taken into consideration.” 

“Yeah, man. We’re really sorry.” 

“I too, would like to extend my apologies for causing you discomfort.” Logan added quietly. “I should have realized how our behaviour would affect you, considering your experiences.” 

Patton quickly rubbed at his tears and tried to find his smile. He was usually good at pulling himself together and chase away everyone’s worry with a joke, but his tears just kept coming. It was the warmth of Virgil at his side, so slender and still supportive like a solid, graceful steel construction wrapped around him. Logan held him in a tentative hug and Roman towered over him, gently caressing his fingers buried in fur. Patton was warm and surrounded by loving people with tender hands on him and a raccoon that was drooling on his sleeve where it had rested its head. It was so much better than he’d ever dared dream of. He’d forgotten how much he had hoped for this. For a home. The realization that he was right in the middle of this group, cradled and protected and wanted washed over him. Even though he was being stupid. 

“Thank you. So much.” He muttered, his voice thick with tears. “Please don’t change. I’ll be fine. I’m so happy to be here.”

The three men exchanged a look over his light brown curls, silently promising each other to come back to this topic and to make sure Patton always knew he was safe no matter how much their bickering got out of hand. For now, their beloved baker appeared tired enough to fall asleep in their arms. 

“We are pleased to know you are enjoying our company. The feeling is mutual.” Logan noted carefully. “However, if it would be acceptable to you, we would like to continue working on making you feel safe with us like we have done for each other before and like you have been with us since the beginning of our friendship. It will not cause us any trouble. Additionally, I would like inform you of an offer Dr. Emile Harris asked me to relay to you.”

Virgil perked up slightly, hopefully raising his head to listen.  

“Remy mentioned that he would like to visit us soon in order to spend time with me and personally continue his sessions with Virgil. Additionally, he would like to bring his husband with him who he explained appears to be quite fond of you. Roman has graciously offered to take the children to the park to entertain them… if you are amenable to being in the company of Remy’s husband, of course.”

Wiping his eyes dry with his long, soft sleeve, Patton thought the offer through. Remembering Emile with his sweet smile and warm eyes and his gentle playfulness with his children made him feel safe already. Talking to him had cleared so much up. Perhaps he could help him figure things out before they got out of hand next time, so he wouldn’t hurt anyone again. He’d really been silly. Sitting here, on this very couch he’d dreamed about, with his very own adorable baby kitten in his hands, he could hardly understand how he could have forgotten how much he loved it here. He never wanted to forget again. And he wanted to see Emile. It was difficult not to tell Logan it was all fine and to try not to cause more effort for everyone, but he could feel so clearly how much his friends wanted him to get better. Like Patton wanted with Virgil. He wanted his kiddo to heal and be happy and Roman to never feel unloved again and he wanted Logan to know he was so so cared about and just perfect the way he was. He wished he could see how amazing he truly was. Patton had so many feelings about his man. He longed to… do so much. Make him feel so much. They were all here to take care of each other, and if he wanted to look after them, perhaps he should let them help him as well. 

“That would be lovely. Thank you.” 

Roman grinned, immediately cheered up by the idea of going to a playground, dressing up and playing knights and princess and fighting dragons. Virgil, too, seemed to nestle against Patton more calmly. Reassured that his family was feeling secure, Logan finally relaxed properly in their cuddle pile. His breath left him in a deep sigh as Patton carefully leaned against him, rubbing his cheek against his wool sweater. He closed his eyes and buried his face in the silky curls.

***************************************************

End of chapter notes: So we ended in a cuddle pile again because who needs variety.

Once again, if you guys feel like supporting me, here’s the old Ko-fi page link :)

The app Virgil is programming wasn’t supposed to be in the story, actually. It just jumped at me that it would be a cool project from them to share because Virgil needs to build things again and Logan loves his plants and data. And ACTUALLY my boyfriend is making that very same app because our f*cking lemon tree keeps dying. I’ve bought him another one last year and it is constantly on the brink of death. The Failure is real. We manage to make it grow leaves and they keep falling off again. Every.fricking.time. The fucker. (We’re both having issues at this point). The app will be available sometime this year with his sensors and all. If you have a plant that keeps dying on you and you are as stupidly stubborn as Logan, I’ll post a link and you can nerdily try to save it. I’ll keep you updated because my boyfriend is making an app all on his own and I am just so darn proud of him!!! (And Virgil can program it with Logan which will be adorable and get Virge out there again).

ART:

@olcia46​ made another edit I’d die for. I just think they are so pretty! The colours, the outline of the boys, all of it!

and I’m not even certain if I shared this LOVELY picture of @galaxy-sketch​ of Virgil and Nicodemus sitting on a counter yet but it’s lovely enough to look at twice!

Next Chapter

[letsbenditlikebennett]

Friendship Never Ends || Ariana & Orion

TIMING: Yesterday evening PARTIES: @3starsquinn & @letsbenditlikebennett SUMMARY: Ariana finds out Rio was in a fire when she messages him to talk things over. She brings dinner to the hospital and they have a heart to heart. 

Ariana reread the message several times and her heart sank further with each one. She felt dissociated from her own body as she threw on a coat and hopped in her truck so she could rush to the hospital. She was worried for both Rio and Blanche, but the guilt she felt over staying with Rio for so long formed a lump in her throat that she couldn’t quite shove down. How could she have been so selfish? Didn’t Rio deserve the understanding he always seemed so willing to give other people? She pushed back the tears as she talked to the secretary and made her way to his room as quickly as she possibly could. As she walked in the room, she felt sick. The burns on his neck made her breath catch and she forgot for a moment to let it go. “Rio,” she croaked out as she hurried to take a seat by his bedside. “I’m so sorry. I should have-- I’m just glad you’re going to be okay. Oh god, you are going to be okay, right?” 

The only thing that Orion had worried about since getting here was how he was going to leave. He couldn’t stay here for too long. The hospital was not a safe place for him. His wounds would heal too quickly, the rest of his scars would be too visible, and worst of all his dad was roaming the halls somewhere. It was only a matter of time before the news got around that his son was here. At least the nurses had mostly believed that the various wounds along his arms were caused from the fire. Now, he had them hidden under the blankets, unable to hide behind his hoodie with the needles and tubes protruding from his arms. Ariana was the first to show up. She must have seen the text message as soon as Rio had sent it, and left immediately after. “Hey!” He tried to sound as excited as he could manage, but his voice was still dry and hoarse from the smoke. “Why would you be sorry?” His expression turned from excitement into confusion. This fire hadn’t had anything to do with her. Rio honestly didn’t know anything about the fire. “Yeah. I’ll be fine. Uh-” Considering the animosity between the two, now might not have been the best time to bring it up, but Rio tried for a smile and shrugged, “Perks of hunter healing I guess. But- Not everyone was that lucky.” Rio couldn’t stop thinking about the officer, he had heard the name Roland multiple times. He had saved their lives, and lost his in the process. Rio couldn’t get the image out of his head. “Blanche and my boss, Erin, are going to have it worse than me. It’s not fair.”

Hiding her emotions had never been her strong suit, but for Rio’s sake, Ariana did her best to refrain from frowning when she heard just how battered his voice sounded. As she looked him over, it became so apparent how close she could have been to losing him. That he could have been gone forever before they had ever gotten the chance to talk things over and make up. She’d been so harsh with him and that very well could have been their last conversation. The realization sat heavy in her chest as she nodded slowly. He didn’t seem to understand why she was sorry, and she tried to explain, “Rio, you could have-- Without us ever.” She looked down at her hands that were now clasped firmly in her lap. The tension in her shoulders was able to relax a little when he assured he’d be okay. She still worried for Blanche though the fact Erin was involved in this left her feeling suspicious. That wasn’t what was important right now. She looked over to Rio earnestly and softly answered, “I could have lost you without ever getting to make up. I could have lost you while you still thought I was upset with you. I just-- I’m really glad you’re going to be okay. You’re my friend and I care about you, even when I was mad and I promise I’ll try to be a little more patient going forward, okay?” Hunter healing was a bonus in this case and if anyone deserved to have that ability, it was Rio. She wished he could have met Celeste, but shook the thought away quickly. “Blanche is going to be okay, too, though, right?” She couldn’t feign concern for Erin, especially not when she had the hunch her shady business had something to do with this. 

Even in pain, Orion was just incredibly happy that Ariana wanted to talk. Rio could never blame Ariana’s anger. It had felt like a double edged sword, most of the time. With his friends, he either withheld the truth knowing that he was lying to them about who he was or he told the truth and risked them hating him. It didn’t feel like a battle he could win. How could he even blame them? He didn’t like or trust hunters when he was one himself, so how could he ever expect a werewolf or selkie or any other supernatural creature to? So he kept the truth to himself. Rio sat up in the bed, careful to try to keep the blanket covering his body. It shouldn’t be too hard to pass some of the injuries off on the fire, but he didn’t want to cause Ariana anymore worry. She hadn’t had an easy few months, and this was just one more layer of stress. “Hey I don’t-” Rio paused. Who knew all it took was almost dying for things to start to get better? But that’s not what Rio wanted this to be. He needed Ariana to be as angry as she needed to be. “You had every right to be mad. And I don’t want you to have to forgive me just because of… this. I’m going to be okay.” They still had plenty of time to make up. As much as Rio wanted to be friends again, he didn’t want to rush her into anything. “I care about you too. A lot. But you don’t have to promise anything. You never did anything wrong.” Thinking about Blanche made Rio’s heart hurt. In that funeral home, when the two were so sure that they were about to die, Blanhe’s words had really gotten to him. It was what got him back on his feet again. She had to be okay. “I think so. She had it the worst of us three I think, but I’m getting updates. She seems stable.”

Even if she had still been truly mad about everything, how kind he was being would make it hard to stay that way. Ariana shook her head and assured, “No, this isn’t because of that-- I wanted to see you before anyway, remember? This just-- It kind of puts things in perspective you know.” Any day, especially in White Crest, something bad could happen. The reminder just made her want to keep those she loved as close to her as possible. “I’d already forgiven you and moved on, it’s just-- You and Blanche, you both could have died in there and I’d feel terrible if we never got to talk first.” At the confirmation that Blanche was going to be alright she relaxed a little bit. She let out a breath she hadn’t even realized she’d been holding and leaned back in the cold hospital chair. “I’m really glad both of you are going to be okay.” There was relief, but she knew she needed to get this off her chest. She let out a sigh and looked at Rio, “I know you didn’t not tell me with the intention of hurting my feelings. Knowing you-- I get why you wouldn’t want to tell people. Finding out from Athena just really sucked. But I do want you to know you can tell me these things. I’m never going to think less of you or anything like that. I know you’re a good person and if I’m being honest, I’ve really missed you.” 

“Right. We already had plans, of course.” Orion had to remind himself that people truly thought that he was worth friendship. As much as he tried to think about that, he always had that voice in the back of his head reminding him that he wasn’t. Or pointing out that people only hung out with him because of pity. The voice sucked, but had been such a loud, consistent noise ringing in his head that it was hard to ignore. Even when logically, Rio knew it wasn’t true. “Me too. I’m so glad that she’s okay.” And Rio was glad that he was alive too. He didn’t want to die. Not anymore. “I know, and I really am sorry. With everyone else knowing it’s-“ Rio sighed, “I should have told you.” That was the truth. Even if everyone else had mostly found out by accident or by necessity, the fact was that everyone else in their friend group knew the truth. It was like a secret that everyone but Ariana was in on. It hadn’t been intentional, but Rio understood why it still hurt. “I just want you to know that it was never you. I never worried you’d tell people or that I couldn’t trust you with it. I trust you with my life, the same way I trust Winston and Blanche and Layla and our other friends.” Diving deep into the truth was hard, and Rio wasn’t sure he quite knew all the reasons behind his various problems. But a little honesty and exposure couldn’t hurt. “It’s that I’m ashamed of it. I’ve always hated myself for being linked to them. I’m stuck with these abilities that are objectively amazing. It makes it hard to complain about and yet I’d do anything to get rid of them. To stop feeling like I’m some sort of monster. So I never liked telling people because I didn’t want them to think the same things I thought about myself.” Rio sighed, a sense of relief washing over after he was done. Speaking it out loud felt good, but he didn’t want the message to get washed away by pity or Ariana feeling like Rio was trying to beg her for sympathy. “But I’m not telling you that begging for sympathy or asking you to forgive and forget the pain. I just want to be honest with you now. It’s the least I can do after keeping you in the dark. Because I miss you too.”

“Yeah,” Ariana whispered softly and took a few moments to just listen to Rio. To try and understand why he had kept what he was from her though the more he spoke, the more she frowned. There was a distinct difference in how they viewed what they were. Ariana was proud of being a wolf. She didn’t view it as something that made her bad even though it made her more of a threat to those who would dare to hurt her or those she cared about. The way he saw himself was entirely different and broke Ariana’s heart. She couldn’t help the tears that welled up in her eyes as he explained how he hated himself. How ashamed he was with the abilities he was born with. Part of her wanted to reach out and hug him, but she wasn’t sure if it’d make him feel better or worse. She looked at him with misty eyes and softly responded, “Rio, you aren’t-- You’re so good. You don’t have a bad bone in your body. It’s not about what you’re born, it’s about what you do with it and you’ve got the biggest heart of anyone I know.” She leaned forward in her seat a bit and added, “You were born with hunter abilities, but you don’t use them to hunt others. You’re like Celeste in that way and she’s literally the greatest person I’ve ever known.” She wished they could have met. Maybe Celeste would have been able to help him come to terms with everything. “I know changing the way you see yourself can’t be easy, but I’m here to help however I can and remind you that you’re one of the best people I know… and you know, I know some pretty amazing people,” she added the last part with a light laugh at the end. “I appreciate you being honest with me. Understanding, well, it kind of makes it easier to know that it wasn’t me.” 

“Oh no. You can’t cry!” Orion wanted to laugh, because Ariana was one of the funniest, happiest people he knew and he missed being able to laugh with her. When he did try to laugh, it came out raspy and strained. “If you cry I’m going to cry too.” Rio wanted to keep things lighthearted. There was enough to be freaked out about right now. The least he could do was try to make things a little less stressful on Ariana. But even though he said it, Rio’s eyes were already swelling up. “I wish I could have met her. She was taken from you too soon.” Rio was so lucky to have friends like Ariana and the others that knew about Rio’s self doubts and tried to help him. They had no way of truly knowing how much it had changed his life. “Thank you. For everything, seriously. For everything you’ve done since we’ve been friends. And for visiting me. And mostly for bringing me food.” Because Rio had been starving since he got here. It seemed stupid now, but he just remembered that he had never been able to finish his wrap. “I’m just really glad we get to hang out again.”

“It’s not my birthday, but I’ll still cry if I want to,” Ariana joked with a misty-eyed laugh in hopes it would lift both of their spirits a bit. Rio had always been spazzy and a little insecure, but she hated to think he couldn’t see what she saw. Whenever she looked to Rio, she saw kindness and warmth. She saw someone who was way smarter than her, but would never dream of making her feel like she was anything but capable. She saw a person, who like Celeste, was able to look past what their parents tried to teach them and decided what was right for themselves. It took an incredible amount of strength and courage. Yet he still hated himself for something that was out of his control. They were both crying a bit now, but she felt inclined to add, “Just do me a favor, try and remember that things that are out of our control aren’t who we are. It’s what we choose to do with those things. You choose to be kind and open minded and I think that makes you one of the best people I know.” She nodded and simply agreed about Celeste, “She was.” At the mention of food, she opened her backpack and pulled out a big thermos full of chili. She’d have to drop these clothes by Blanche’s room soon, too. She grabbed the tray by his bed and poured some in the bowl part of the lid. She pulled a sleeve of crackers out to go with it. “I conveniently had some chilli going in the slow cooker today. I’ve always thought it’s a good comfort food. I know it’s for sure better than anything here, but I did also bring Oreos.” She smiled at him and felt relieved to finally understand why he hadn’t felt comfortable telling her. “Me too, Rio, me too.”

[pluviophile-bookworm]

AWAE 1x5 rewatch: thoughts and reactions

Here I am again with another AWAE rewatch. Writing these takes longer than you might think, so I don’t know how regular I can keep those coming, but I’ll see what I can do. For the time being, let’s dive into another episode:

And this episode opens in the best way possible - with Shirbert’s first spelling scene. Little did we know how important those would become - although reading the books kind of gave us a hint of it. And yet, this is one of the added charms of this incarnation of the story.

I have to say Mr. Philips is not being subtle with the words he is giving them to spell.

And there goes Gilbert’s first skipped E - in the word engagement, no less. That letter was given a lot more emphasis here than in the source material, and I live for it. 

“Anne, are you feeling alright?” Knowing what milestone Anne experiences later on in this episode, Anne’s discomposure probably has little to do with Gilbert’s effect on her. But who can ever know for sure? I have to say, this episode had one of the cold opens I call “gold opens”. 

And there it goes - Anne’s dramatic reaction to her first period. Is this an appropriate time to complain about the lack of health ed kids get in this setting? I mean, she would not have reacted like this if she had been talked to about this and knew what to expect. I doubt anyone’s reaction would be any different if they didn’t know what periods were, woke up in pain one night and discovered they were bleeding. Also, Anne better not be soaking that thing in hot water, or else the stain is never coming out. 

Anne’s “I’m not ready to be a woman” speaks so much to me. WARNING: intimate personal experience coming up. I remember my first period. I had just turned fourteen about a month prior, and I had pretty much stopped anxiously awaiting it after I had done so since they talked about it in health class when I was 12. So, when I went into school for a test one day 6 years ago - I was really sick so I only went in for the test in the middle of the school day - I was focusing on the material and on suppressing my sneezes so I wouldn’t spread the flu to others. I was not at all expecting to go into that test a girl and come back home  a woman. Yes, I was in pain, but I thought it was the usual stress pains I would get during important tests amplified by my sickness. Anyway, so after that day, for years after, I would cry when I got my period and insist that “I am not a woman, I do not need this” and this emotion was so strong in me that it would result in progesterone deficiency and my period would skip for months and I would be on meds for so long. Then, when I was 17, I talked to a therapist about this and it turned out my refusing to accept I was a woman (as opposed to a girl, not that I was questioning my gender) was making my body try to suppress my womanhood. So yeah, it was tough. But I’m ok now and Anne’s reaction just brought out this personal memory. I’m sorry. Maybe I didn’t need to tell you all this, but it’s closely tied to my reception of this episode, so the way I see it I couldn’t go without it. 

The way Marilla shooed Matthew out made me think. Was the existence of periods supposed to be kept a total secret from men at the time? Because that is not ok. Even today, there are a lot of men in the world, probably the majority of them, who don’t know the simplest thing about periods.Those are men who have mothers, sisters, girlfriends, daughters - they interact with women close to them and they at least need to know what to do and what not to do to make that time of the month easier for the women in their lives. But they don’t because nobody teaches them. This is just another part of making periods seem like a shameful thing that is to be kept secret at all times. And that’s not ok. But we’ll get back to that in future scenes.

While Anne is turning into a woman physically, Gilbert has to grow up too fast in a different way. What he has to go through with, and then without his father is just heartbreaking. Getting your period is a good and healthy, if unpleasant, way to grow up; losing your father - just the opposite.

Marilla cracks me up. “That explains all the children” is her hilariously deadpan response to Rachel saying she’d rather be pregnant. And I’m glad to see both women find it as hilarious as I do.

I’m even happier to see the girls at school are laughing together, too. However, things get serious quite suddenly. Apparently, Anne has just told them about her new maturity, so now they’re all sharing their experience. However, Ruby reminds me a lot of me in the same situation. Remember that health class I had when I was 12? It provoked a lot of discussion among us girls afterwards, and that was incredibly awkward for me because I was apparently the only one who didn’t have it yet. So yeah, I was Ruby in this situation, but I would go on to become Anne saying “Trust me, if I could give you mine, I would.” It reminds me of another personal story, and you’ll have to excuse me for telling it. A lot of my personal stories are coming out here, but I guess it’s the topic of the episode and there’s no way for me to comment on it without relating those stories. So, about a year ago when my 11yo cousin told me she’d gotten hers, I was in another one of my so-called “period-less periods” and I was seriously worried about my health. So, naturally, I was like “If I could take yours, I would.” Because, you know, it’s normal if you don’t have it at 11, but it is seriously concerning if you’re a 19-year old virgin going two months without her period. So, you see, I’ve been at so many points within the spectrum. Well, I’ll try to comment only on the episode from here on and not share my entire medical past. 

“Nice boys never say people eat insects”. I quote that pretty much on a daily basis - every time someone mentions mnemonic devices. It’s hilarious. One of my university professors went out of her way to say those two words as many times as she could one time last year and I could not contain my laughter thinking of this quote, courtesy of Gilbert Blythe.

Anne acts just the way I do on my period - ok, I said no more personal details, but that barely counts. It’s just, Anne is so relatable. But also, when she says “Nothing appeals to me, Marilla” - I know what you need, Anne. You need chocolate. But did they have chocolate like we do?

My, I had forgotten this was when the raspberry cordial incident happens. This should be fun. And then heartbreaking. But it’s kinda fun in the long run, you know.

Wait, is Matthew going to order a puff sleeved dress for Anne? Is this that? I mean, it has to be since he rarely leaves Green Gables unless it’s for something really important. And if this is important to Anne, then you bet it’s also important to Matthew. You gotta love that man.

Of course Anne would be wearing the special ribbon Marilla Gave her. And of course she would invest all of her energy into that tea party. This is beautiful. Too bad one little mistake will have to ruin things...

Matthew is visibly uncomfortable amid the crowd in town, but he’s doing this for Anne and that means he has to do it, even if it’s out of his comfort zone. Even if Marilla might disapprove. The world needs more men like Matthew Cuthbert. 

If Diana’s family had seen the manner in which Anne welcomed her to tea, they might have disregarded her mistake at the end, but alas, they didn’t. It was as classy and sophisticated as could be. The end was an innocent mistake. 

Ok, but how funny would it be if the first bottle Anne picked up was actually the cordial she was looking for? That was kinda like putting down the correct answer on a test, then correcting it to the wrong one. I know I said it’s funny, but now that I put it like this, it’s just as upsetting as it has always seemed to me.

“Will you take me with you, you have to take me”... imagine Anne at finishing school. Just imagine. 

Ah, yes, alcohol brings out the immature side of even the most dignified young ladies. There’s nothing like seeing Diana Barry, the poster girl for classy, shouting “Bosoms!” and giggling with her best friend. Her highly controlled young life finally saw a moment of blissful immaturity. What a pity it will end in tears. 

I see Matthew has finally opened up - and of course he has, he is talking about Anne. He just loves her so much. Ever since I was first introduced to the books, I’ve always thought it’s such a wonderful mistake that Anne ended up with the Cuthberts. It made life better for them as well as for her. 

Little Matthew reminds me a little bit of Cole - quiet and gentle, but, as Jeannie said, knows how to “make himself known”.  And also I love them both with all my heart. 

Oh my, so this is the reason Matthew had to leave school - because Michael passed away? I had forgotten. Well, thanks for breaking my heart a second time. But well, I brought this upon myself by deciding to rewatch the entire series. 

“A dignified affair”... if Marilla could see them now. Well, it’s better off that she can’t yet. Things are going down as it is, just let the fun last a little longer. 

And there we go. It’s like the whole world is falling apart. This is worse than that time in season 3 when Diana’s mother drags her away from the Baynard house. And both times it is just plain tragic because both Anne and the Baynards are beautiful, good people who are nothing but kind and loving to Diana, and yet her mother fails to see that anything else but what she has deemed appropriate for her daughter, can be good. 

If Marilla thinks some pairs of boots are “a frivolous expense”, I can’t imagine how she would react to the dress Matthew ordered for Anne. 

“I will never have another bosom friend” Well, no, you won’t have to, Diana. It might seem like it’s the end of the world now, but it won’t last. Then, of course, there will be that other time of separation, which, like the other parallel I drew regarding Diana’s mother forbidding her to fraternise with someone, has to do with Jerry. I don’t want to think about that one, but, you know - just like this one, that, too, was fixed within the next episode. Also, based on this scene, I totally see why people ship them. I mean, it lowkey reminds me of Rapunzel and Cass in the TTS finale. You should watch that show if you haven’t btw. 

Yes, Anne, life is so unfair, but not to you right now. To Gilbert. He’s losing his father. Forever. You just lost a friend for a little while. But of course, Anne knows neither one of those things. Life really is unfair, isn’t it?

“What wonderful red hair”, “I’ve heard nice things about you.” These must be some of the nicest things an adult who is not Matthew or Marilla has said to Anne in a long while. I wonder how that made her feel. If I were Anne, Gilbert’s father would have just made my day.

“Give my kind regards to Marilla” These words, coming from John Blythe, mean more than Anne and Gilbert can imagine. They mean more to me now that I’m watching this episode for the second time. That is why I love rewatches. 

“Fair and square” Another Shirbert moment that would go on to become iconic. In a way, this whole episode is. 

I see that, for once, Anne is putting her heart into her needlepoint. And not just hers, but, as it seems, Diana’s, too. She’s literally embroidered the words “kindred spirits” between two connected hearts. It’s beautiful. And sad to think that, as far as they know, they can never speak to each other again.

“I’ve come to realise that there are far bigger worries in the world” - is Anne referring to what Gilbert is going through with his father? Probably. I mean, being an orphan and going from one abusive household to another, Anne has probably never really had a relative to worry about. So she likely never even thought about how Gilbert feels taking care of his ill father until she saw it with her own eyes. This is why she won’t know how to properly react when John Blythe is gone. 

So, I was wondering what Jerry’s role in this very much iconic episode would be, and there it is - he will be the one to take the boots back and bring home Anne’s special dress. And return the button to Jeannie, of course. This is definitely a special part. And Jerry delivered - both figuratively and literally in this particular case.

Anne’s face seeing the big box on her bed is priceless. The moment she sees the dress inside - even more so. What is a moment of “frivolous expense” and “vanity” to see her dream come true. And, just like that, the Cuthberts are a happy family.

In this episode, we saw: Shirbert’s first spell-off with Gilbert’s first skipped E; Anne’s first period, commented on with a lot of personal details about mine; a memorable mnemonic device; the development of John Blythe’s illness; a sassy Marilla moment and the reason behind all of Rachel Lynde’s pregnancies; Matthew orders a puff sleeved dress for Anne and is reunited with an old... friend in the process; Anne invites Diana to tea with disastrous results; the (temporary) tragic end of a  beautiful friendship; Anne is older and wiser; Jerry delivers an important package; a happy ending to a tough week for Anne.

[inkstaineddove]

Through Thick and Thin

Characters: Germany, Prussia

Summary: Germany and Prussia have never felt able to express their frustrations with one another. Finally, they're able to have the heart-to-heart their family desperately needed for either of them to move on and heal.

Prussia walked out onto the balcony. He came up behind his Germany and dropped the note onto the table next to the ashtray. Gilbert couldn't hide his smirk. "We live in the same house. You could come into my room and ask, though I do appreciate the extra work." Germany looked up at his brother. He smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. "You know I've never been good at asking for things out loud. Beer? They're ice cold." Gilbert took him up on his offer, cracking open the bottle that was laid out for him. He slunk down in the chair besides his brother and kicked his feet up onto the rails. In silence, they gazed out across the Berlin skyline. The stars were barely visible beneath all the lights, but it was beautiful in its uniquely artificial way. It was home, after all.

"So, West, why'd you wanna talk? Something on your mind?" Prussia assessed Germany out the corner of his eye. Physically, he seemed in perfect shape. Gilbert never knew what was going on his head though, so how he was really doing was anyone's guess. "No one's been giving you shit right? I've kicked everyone's ass on this godforsaken continent and I'll do it again if I gotta, just say the word." He wrinkled his nose. "Is it Feliks or Francis? They're always starting shit." Ludwig was thankful that the night made it harder to see. He couldn't stop himself from rolling his eyes and wincing. Why would he expect dissolution to calm his brother down, even after all these years? Gilbert, for better or worse, was Gilbert and that meant he was always itching for a fight. Still, Germany couldn't hold back his tongue. "And if it is them? What are you going to do? Invade them? With what army?" He rubbed the bridge of his nose, trying to force out any irritation he was feeling. "No, they're all pricks. I've learnt to ignore them. I just...wanted to talk. We're family, we're allowed to do that." He received no answer. For his part, Gilbert was still nursing his wounds from that surprise attack. Really, going after the fact that he didn’t have a body politic anymore? What a low blow, especially considering who’s fault that was. He pushed the growing fire to the bottom of his belly, smiled and raised his glass. "Yeah! Of course we can! I was just caught off-guard since you always prefer radio silence, but we can try talking!" He clinked his glass with Ludwig's. "Cheers, West!" In unison, they drank. Each chugged down half of their beer and tried to focus on the positives of what this could be and ignore any resentment they held for the other. They hadn't actually talked in half a century. Why would they be able to now? Nothing had changed for them substantially to bring it about. It would be another failed attempt at family reunification, with both of them calling up Roderich tomorrow to complain about each other to him. That would be better than fixing anything. Ludwig sighed. If he'd really believed that, he wouldn't have asked. They used to be close - incredibly close - and could get that way again. He'd have to force himself and his brother to be honest with each other, a difficult task but not impossible. He set down his glass and ran a hand through his hair, letting some slicked-back strands loose. He'd take a cue from America's playbook. "Gilbert, is there any reason you hate me or is this who you’ve become?" Gilbert spat out his mouthful of beer. Foam dripped down from his chin as he turned to Ludwig, making him look like a wolf sick with rabies. "The fuck did you just say to me? You're not too old to get hit!" "That was harsh, my apologies." Germany flinched at the sound of his own voice. He spoke to his own brother like he spoke to some ally. “What are your issues with me? Your resentment towards me makes living with you unbearable at times.” Prussia finished his bottle of beer. He'd need some alcohol in his veins to make it through this conversation. He looked back out over Berlin, imagining what it used to be like when he was still a nation and his royal family was still important. "Well, Luddy dear, this may come as a surprise to you, but I'm essentially dead. I've got control of a section of my old kingdom that doesn't even bear my name. I'm seen as some militaristic outcast when France and Britain are as guilty of the same. And, worst of all, my name has become synonymous with crimes you committed without hesitation! Ones that I never wanted part of and took part of multiple efforts to sabotage." He glanced at his brother sharply. "I do hate you in a way cause you've been nothing but trouble for me. I wish Austria had been your brother instead, unification was the worst mistake of my life." Gilbert got up and opened another bottle. He swigged down half of it, looking anywhere but at Ludwig. "Germany was supposed to be a vehicle of power for me and my leaders. Initially, it was. But then we were forced to officially lose the war and my leaders let Germany grow into its own thing, fucking it all up for me. You were meant to be a puppet and nothing more, Holy Rome with a new name and under new ownership." He smiled sadly at the sky. "Though, I can't blame France and Britain for seeing through that plan. I didn't really try to hide it, but it did hurt when they destroyed it.” He winced. “Twice." Germany realized he was laughing. He was running on autopilot, unaware of what he was doing until after. "You piece of shit, you still blame me for the war? The war that's been over for more than seventy years?" He launched up and began pacing the length of the balcony. His blood was boiling, he hadn’t allowed himself to feel this enraged in decades. "Take the blame for something for once in your life! There's blood on your hands too! That hatred, that anger was something your people already had towards every group we - yes, we, Gilbert! - targeted! I don't care if you were selling secrets to Churchill and de Gaulle, you followed orders!" He took a deep breath, calming himself considerably so he was no longer shouting. "Fine, you were morally superior to me from the 1930s till 1945. Does that make you happy? Are you satisfied? What will make you feel better about that, Gilbert? Because how you feel about your involvement is more important than how the rest of the world - the rest of the world on the right side - saw your actions." Prussia lit a cigarette slowly. He took a deep drag and lifted his middle finger up. "Kiss my ass, you little shit." He let that hang there while catching his thoughts. It took every ounce of strength in his body to not throw Ludwig off the building. He would if he knew it would kill him. "See, I was selling secrets. I'd bring food and medicine to the camps and smuggle people out of ghettoes on inspection. I did what I could. So, I'm a bit better than you because I wasn't evil. I was disgusting, but not soulless. But, if you'd kept my fucking government, it might've been different because those assholes would have faced some resistance. That couldn't happen though because big, bad Ludwig wanted to prove himself as the strong leader of the Totally-Not-Prussian-But-German Republic." He smiled like a wolf. "You sure proved yourself, West. Did a real great job with the reins." He snorted. "If I had it my way, I wouldn't have trusted you to lead a horse, much less a people." Germany snapped. "I've got it now! I know who you remind me of!" "A competent nation who can actually win a war?" He waved his hand. "Please, you gave up that title with the Schlieffen Plan. No, you remind me of Britain. Washed up, stuck in the past, and full of distaste for your successor. No wonder you two were allies for so long. Though, I suppose you'd blame me for that falling through as well. Do you blame me for Fritz's death and Napoleon's destruction of your washed-up army too?" Germany smiled when he saw that got his desired reaction. "Shouldn't you be proud of me? I'm now able to do with peace what you could never achieve through war. Finally, a truly essential part of Europe and I haven't had to invade anyone for it." “You wouldn’t have to be such a pussy if you could actually win! What a shame you’re more Saxon and Bavarian than Brandenburger or Prussian! Besides, don’t you just act as a sugar daddy for half of the EU while selling yourself out to Russia and France? That’s a real-” Prussia cut himself off. The absurdity of the entire situation dawned on him when he looked at Germany, really looked at him for the first time this evening. Seeing his younger brother looking so angry and understandably upset at him sent a wave of nausea over Gilbert. If they really wanted to repair things, this wasn’t the way to do it. It was time he swallowed his pride and acted like the older sibling. Gilbert took a deep breath and opened the door to the living room. “Come on. Shouting at each other for all our neighbors to hear isn’t doing anything. We can stop being dicks now. It’s obvious we’re both hurt.” Taken aback, Ludwig complied and made his way to the couch. Gilbert took over the opposite end and let out another long exhale. “Alright, I’m gonna try to be an adult so have some mercy on me, alright?” Happy that that got a smile out of brother, Gilbert proceeded. “It’d be bullshit to try and act like I didn’t mean all that cause I did. I’ve been feeling like that for decades now. And we can deal with that later, but let me answer your original question without having a tantrum. “Yeah, West, I am pissed at you and a part of me really hates you. You took my job and left nothing for me to do here. And, when I did have power, you stripped that away from me the first chance you got because you thought your way was better since you needed to prove yourself. I know I’m guilty of a fair amount - I wouldn’t argue that, I’m haunted by a lot of that just like you - but that doesn’t erase what I, as Gilbert, tried to do. And that’s what gets thrown away and...why? Because I’m related to you means what I did to try and help meant nothing? That because my state was being occupied and I couldn't lead my people in revolt discounts what I did as a person? That my personal rebellion doesn’t matter because it was small? Then, on top of all this, being called blood-thirsty and the source of all your worst traits and having you agree with it! For fuck’s sake, why would I wanna talk to you? You’ve got this picture of me in your head, doesn’t seem like you need the real deal anymore.” Germany had been looking at his hands the entire time Prussia spoke. What Gilbert said hurt, especially because he knew this was the truth. The real truth, not spun in a way that was meant to cut as deeply as possible. Still, a little voice nagged in the back of his head that this wasn’t fair and he couldn’t resist giving in. “Gilbert, if you had told me this earlier then I would’ve been more understanding and have let you help out with various things. I didn’t realize this meant so much to you. You always said you were happy having the house to yourself and about finally being free from the burdens of nationhood.” Prussia winced. Ludwig really believed those transparent lies. Everyone else knew he was so obviously faking it, everyone except the one person who mattered most. He shook the hurt out of his head. They were slowly fixing that problem now. He smiled. “You say that, but you’ve never told me why you’re so pissed at me. Hell, you still haven’t.” His face turned pink. Now was as good a time as ever. “Ah, well, how do you think it’d feel to live in the shadows your ‘awesome’ brother? I’ve known since the beginning everyone preferred you. Russia and Britain were the most obvious ones. Neither of them could trust me as far as they could throw me and they’d constantly ask me about you or look disappointed when they saw me walk into the room - hell, Russia still does that. Even our leaders wanted to work with you. Bismarck saw me only as a tool, as did each kaiser and the military establishment. When the empire fell, they were desperate to cling onto their Prussian titles, but not the German ones. Especially Wilhelm. He was fine with abdicating as emperor, but losing you?” He scoffed. “Well, we all know you’re the real prize. “Then, when I finally had something that was unmistakably my own, you opposed it. You wanted to continue doing things your way. I was done with your way - your way caused us to lose the Great War. I wanted my people to stop being proud of being Bavarian or Saxon or Prussian and instead be proud to be German. That...didn't work out as planned and I was naive enough to believe you and Austria would stand by me, admit that we’d all done wrong, and work to make amends with the rest of the world. His maneuvering out of it didn’t surprise me, nor did the Allies accepting it contrary to fact, but your attempts to disgusted me. As far as I’m concerned, there’s blood on your hands. I believe that you helped people, but I also saw you when you didn’t find it advantageous to be the hero, when you seemed to have no reservations in participating in all those horrible things we did. You’re better than me for trying to fix what you did immediately, but you were still part of the machine.” Neither of them spoke. They were mulling over each other's words, trying to figure out where they fit in their perceptions of how the last century had gone. Their messy relationship was beginning to make sense and they could feel their family slowly melding back together. Gilbert chuckled and leaned back into the couch cushions. He grinned wide at the ceiling. "I've been holding that in since you fucked up the march into Paris in 1914. I really do hate your dumbass. I don't get how you can be related to the greatest military mind of all of continental Europe and then lose every battle against a real opponent." He laughed a bit harder. "I wouldn't have trusted you against the Swedes in Pomerania." Ludwig opened and shut his mouth like a fish. That blindsided him. Was it an insult, a joke, a mix of both? He began mapping it out in his mind and started stuttering out a defense. Gilbert hit him in the side of the head with a throw pillow. "It's a joke! Kinda. Seriously though, who invades Russia? You're so intelligent and then you do stupid shit like that." Germany threw the pillow back. "Shut up, please. I have to hear it from every enlightened World War Two historian, I don't need to hear it from the most awesome and powerful of all the European armies, the general who commanded them all with grace and courage. Have I kissed your ass enough yet to get you to drop it?" He couldn't stop the corners of his mouth from lifting up into a smile. Prussia leaning over and throwing him into a good-natured headlock was the answer he needed. They laughed and the tension started to leave the room. Optimism for the future began to fill them both. Gilbert freed Ludwig from his grasp and crossed his arms behind his head. "It's gonna be a bitch, but we'll get through this. You and I, we can survive anything." He winked. "We're pretty awesome like that." Ludwig smiled at his brother, enjoying Gilbert's presence for the first time in years. "Yeah, it'll take time. But, we'll be alright. One way or another we always are."