#I watched that dude burn himself or harm himself in some way literally every day and I miss it

[redspringthorn]

Dude I miss reaching into that cremation furnace so bad. I so badly wish the owner of that cemetery wasn't fucking comically stupid and insufferable. But like I almost actually miss him even with how much he pissed me off because it was so funny working with him because he did stupid things no one else currently in my life can even compare to. I need to watch a bald man shovel molten hot bone and metal while wearing sandals, it makes me feel so alive

[h7jfangirl]

TODAY'S TGS UPTADE ✨

Okay, so... I can't lie, watching Jekyll being a chaotic bastard it's the hottest thing I ever seen

Of course Hyde it's the one controling the body here, but also their are the same person

Something that Jekyll forgot

This whole scenario would be terrifying if Hyde wasn't part of Jekyll.

So, reading Hyde's words we can realise that he didn't feel all the action from last night, so of course, with now Jekyll getting his feelings of love back, Hyde gets the extreme of them; Lust towards Laynon... Or at least he acts like that, but only to piss off Jekyll in this page (I mean that Hyde is in love too). So of course he would want to get something private and deep with him

And then we have the other side. Jekyll is scare like if Hyde could actually STEAL Robert from him, which it's kinda sussy that Henry talks about Laynon like something of his, that he owns, at least to Hyde (I think my man still has some 🚩🚩🚩 to fix)

And also Jekyll being a hyprocite because he talks about Hyde as if they didn't came from the same mind and soul and talks about Hyde's flaws like if that was all he is. But Hyde belives that Laynon will like him too for who he is as his own without Henry, and also asking to Jekyll about his own flaws. Edward it's clearly using this to make Jekyll feel bad and think that Hyde it's better than him.

He just casually talk to himself out loud while doing shit with people. Love it

Hyde, Hyde, the cop it's watching, Hyde, Hyde Oh my god he can't hear us my boy it's going to PRI--

Just kidding, I wonder how this is gonna turn now. Will Hyde be able to convince the cop to not arrest him? Would he run away and fix it later? Would he go to prision? Who knows!

Now, after what we saw in this new page... I have a question:

It's Hyde evil?

Hyde stole a umbrella to a lady that was just walking, kick some kid's ball when the little one was about to cach it, and just grab a cup

In the begining of the comic Hyde made some mess up things that werent actually meant with evil

He gladly stab someone with a umbrella, but it was to save Creature from being burn alive

Then he set the street on fire, it was a accident and he didn't even expect it to happend but he looks proud of it and even laughs

Of course, the next day he realised he fuck up but dosen't like to admit it every much. He it's emotional, and has exciment when he see chaos, but at the same time he knows that theres limits

Then, talking about Jekyll "betraying" him with the officer. Hyde put him killing a random dude like a example of how even with that Jekyll wouldn't be able to bring Hyde to the law

And the most recent one was Hyde actually hurting a man in the face, actually enjoy it

But the thing it's that the comic itself tells us that Hyde isn't exactily the evil inside Jekyll. The whole freaking chapter 10 it's a non stop show to gaslight and mocking at Hyde and all his idea of who he was

So, Hyde it's not evil? He wants to be, and his actions brings chaos but not that harmful, except the time he burned the street but that was not intentional

But then if he is not the evil? Why he wants to be evil? Because Hyde it's in a constant searching for power, in this page he acts smug while bothering the people around him, and also thinks about taking Laynon too so he can feel powerful over Jekyll again. If Hyde dosen't feel powerful he would literally fall deep down to the darkness of his own mind, but if he can ruin someone else by doing that, then he will take it. Hyde himself said it in chapter 12 "I will take Jekyll down with me!" The right moment he is told about that chance to ruin Henry, even if it was forever

Hyde finds comfort of being the evil twin because that's the only way he knows to feel the senses of control while feeding his constant hunger for acction and passion on his life, and that actually worked it for two whole years, until Henry puts him a stop for just two weeks. If only Hyde waited, he could had his delusional life back but he didn't, and now him and Jekyll will going down together

Because they keep forgeting that they are in the same boat.

[i-might-write]

Hirako Shinji: jealousy

Fandom: Bleach

Request: Heya!!! Noticed the requests were open so i thought i would plop one in. Could i pretty pretty please have some headcannons or a short lil fic for a jealous shinji hirako, maybe inclufing both before and currently dating S/O?

Before dating:

Shinji never gets jealous. Ever.

He'd rather voluntarily shave his head completely than ever admit to spying on whoever decided to become a part of your life. 

He wouldn't stoop so low as to beat them up in a dark, secluded alley, but that thought would definitely get more tempting the more he saw you laugh in their presence or have a conversation that never seemed to end. 

Shinji would be everywhere. He'd learn your daily routine, your favourite coffee shop, the route you took while on a walk and the kind of food you usually ordered. Shinji prides himself to be a laid back, chill person, but all of that pretense would get thrown out of the window the moment he felt like he might lose you.

Not in the literal sense - only in the one where his heart-wrenching crush on you stayed unadmitted, and all of his feelings would burn him down from the inside out as he watched you live your life with someone else.

Shinji would convince himself that maybe it wouldn't be so bad if the object of his jealousy didn't mean you any harm and would quickly get out of your life. But in order to make sure about that, Shinji would have to play a detective.

According to Hiyori, stalking was a better description of the never-ending, panic driven spying sessions. She was glad to accompany him, though. Especially when Shinji finally decided to go all out and make sure to separate you from whoever tried to take Shinji's rightful place at your side.

The amount of times he was 'accidentally' just walking by in your neighborhood and met you was almost as high as the number of times he paid Hiyori to scare the other dude off.

Dating:

Shinji was immensely proud of himself when he finally admitted his feelings to you and was accepted. He felt on top of the world every time the two of you showed anywhere together.

And every time he noticed someone's eyes staying on you for too long, Shinji wouldn't be able to hold the urge to wrap his arm around your shoulders or ostentatiously tuck you into his side. There's a strict limit to his patience, even if he tries to stay on his best behavior.

Jealous Shinji would get more quiet than usual, which is a very telling sign since his mouth hardly ever shuts up on a good day.

He'd be more withdrawn and observant, sometimes lost in his thoughts for a little too long. It'd take a few moments and a conversation in a private, secluded space to make him admit the reason for his poor mood, but eventually Shinji would open up. Sure, it'd be in his usual, half-joking manner, but through the tone of voice and the way he'd avoid eye contact you could see that he was bothered by the situation.

He wouldn't blame it on you in any way. If he decided to be in a relationship with you, he had utmost trust in you. There was no point in blaming his own feelings on someone else.

Shinji still appreciated you taking his jealousy seriously and acknowledging it. You'd have to be very clear that there was absolutely no need for it, and that you'd choose him every time, regardless of what happens or who else you meet. 

That's what happens when Shinji gets jealous with a tint of sadness. If his jealousy takes a different route, his behavior changes too.

Shinji has no problem being the center of attention or trying out new stuff, even when he makes a fool of himself in the process. That makes him reckless, but also fierce enough to be better than whoever made him jealous in the first place. He's going to practice, be flashier, funnier and have a bigger range, and all in an effort to make them look inferior once again. 

To say Shinji is 'just' competitive is not only an understatement, but a very shallow understanding of his character. The fury-driven need to compete, to be proven better, faster, funnier and the opportunity to crush his opponents is very deeply ingrained in Shinji's soul.

He still jokes about it, but it doesn't make it any less true.

[canary3d-obsessed]

Restless Rewatch: The Untamed Ep 17 part one

(Masterpost of all the rewatches) (Canary’s pinboard of original content)

Warning: Spoilers for All 50 Episodes!

Inaccessible

Wei Wuxian hides in a boat among the lotuses next to a pier in Lotus Pier, the second-most-literally-named home in the show, after The Burial Mounds. This pier has a railing that goes all the way around it, without any ladders or anything. Not to be ADA on main but this means if you can't Jedi jump, you're fucked.  

Hefeng Liquor

While Wei Wuxian waits and tries, not very successfully, to keep his shit together, he hears the guards talking about the local booze that they're going to drink at their murder victory party. We learn, in a desaturated flashback (that OP has done her best to resaturate), that this is lotus-infused wine invented by Wei Wuxian during happier days. 

He kicks the flashback off with his favorite activity, Unnecessarily Erotic Beverage Drinking. (gifset) I’ve slowed this gif down so we can all appreciate the unnecessariness. The way his hand caresses that leaf OMG

Hopefully he is not drinking lake water out of that leaf. Side note: How is it possible that Xiao Zhan doesn't have a drinking water endorsement deal? I had to resort to Zhu Yilong's brand of water for this gag. I figure if it's good enough to pour directly onto a lightning burn like they do in The Lost Tomb Reboot, it's good enough for a leaf hummer chastely drinking out of a leaf

(more behind the cut!)

In his memory, Jiang Cheng tells him to stop fucking around and come help with the basket of lotus pods. Wei Wuxian responds by grabbing one for himself and then sitting his ass down and not helping. Cause he’s a motherfucking P.I.M.P.

Emotional Rescue

Wen Ning arrives on the pier with Jiang Chang, to Wei Wuxian's extreme relief. Look how much emotion Xiao Zhan is able to convey even with half of his face hidden, my lord.

Wen Ning carries Jiang Cheng on his back, in an echo of other significant piggyback rides in Wei Wuxian's life.  

Wei Wuxian's relief is at war with his fear, seeing his brother in such bad shape. Remember, these are cultivators, who heal quickly and mostly don't get their asses beat this hard. The only time Wei Wuxian has been comatose was after the Xuanwu cave, and that was probably because of his prolonged contact with resentful energy/Yin iron.

Hibernating Zidian

Wen Ning gets ready for his first, but not his last, boat ride with an unconscious Yunmeng brother in it. He tells Wei Wuxian that Jiang Cheng is pretty fucked up but isn't dead.

Then he gives Zidian to him. Before we talk about Zidian, let's talk about BAMF Wen Ning.  Wen Ning is an awkward goofball. He’s also insanely competent at just about everything--wine-drugging, dude-smuggling, corpse retrieval, dog acupuncture, drug pushing. As well as shooting rocks out of the air and, later, beating zombie ass, and resisting mind control. . 

This is the foundation of their friendship; it’s not actually about Wei Wuxian being nice to the weird kid. He initially sought Wen Ning out for the same reason he sought out weird kid Lan Wangji--his martial skill. He accepts his weirdness and is protective of him because of his missing-spirit problem, but he did not befriend him out of altruism.

Wei Wuxian is so forgiving that he can smile fondly when looking at the weapon that whipped the shit out of him a couple of days ago.

Wei Wuxian puts Zidian down right next to Jiang Cheng's hand and...nothing happens. It doesn't recognize him or spark to life. This didn't seem meaningful when I watched it the first time, but rewatching...yikes. It KNOWS.

Wei Wuxian admits, with tears in his eyes, that there is nowhere safe for him to go with Jiang Cheng, and Wen Ning immediately offers care and shelter. Even though that is putting his own life at serious risk.

Life obligation is a common theme in CDramas. It’s often something a person chooses as a way of showing love. Guardian builds an eternal romance out of two people saving each other’s lives over and over.  But accepting the obligation is a choice (in fantasy dramas, if not in real life). Love and Redemption has a gloriously harsh sequence where a life is saved, and the save-ee cooly rejects the saver.

Every time Wen Ning saves Wei Wuxian, he cites that one time that Wei Wuxian saved him from the water demon. And Wei Wuxian cites this rescue right here when he throws everything away to save Wen Ning. Meanwhile, Jiang Cheng doesn't acknowledge any debt to Wen Ning at all, only--grudgingly--to Wen Qing. And people are ok with that.

Basically all this is to say that I think Wen Ning leans into this life debt because he loves Wei Wuxian, and Wei Wuxian leans into it because he loves him back. Non-romantically, I think...at least on Wei Wuxian’s part. YMMV.

They go to pick up Yanli from their Granny, telling her to go into hiding. She starts to cry, not knowing how she'll manage on her own. Wei Wuxian tells her that they will come back, as Wen Ning looks super unsure about that.

Of course Wei Wuxian can't know, at this point, whether they will come back. Wei Wuxian always wants to make everybody feel better, and sometimes you really can't make someone feel better except by lying. He compulsively says shit that he thinks people want to hear, almost as if he was beaten frequently and arbitrarily as a child.

Wen Ning is doing his best for the recreational boat ride industry, as he rows the Yunmeng trio through some amazingly beautiful scenery.

Core Melting Time

Meanwhile, back at Lotus Pier The Yunmeng Supervisory Office, Wen Chao is hung over, Wen Chao is angry, Yawn

For some reason, Wang Lingjiao has suddenly decided to talk to Wen Chao in the most cloying and annoying way possible. 

Also, the fact that she still addresses him as Gongzi when she is totally fucking him is kind of great. This is like those fics where Elizabeth Bennet calls Mr. Darcy "Mr. Darcy" even when they're married and hitting it. 

Wen Zhuliu demonstrates why he's called Core-Melting Hand, by punishing the wine guard. He's able to melt a guy's core by grabbing him by the throat, and also picks him up, Darth Vader style, for extra meltyness.

All that stuff I said last time about Wen Zhuliu feeling ambivalent about being a villian...yeah, he seems to have gotten that right out of his system. 

Chilling in Yiling

Wen Ning is doing his best for the recreational carriage ride industry.  Wei Wuxian, after presumably several hours in the cart, decides that now is a good time to get curious about where they are going. 

Here we start to see a new side of Wei Wuxian.  Before this he was carefree, other than specific worries about his friends. He confronted danger with lightness and humor, or with temporary fear, that he let go of once the danger passed. Now, after all the deaths and seeing Jiang Cheng so injured, he's twitchy, anxious, and angry.

Very, very angry.

When he realizes that Wen Ning has brought them to the Yiling supervisory office, he goes off, demanding to know whose home this was before the Wens took it and grabbing Wen Ning and shoving him into a decorative...decoration.  He thinks Wen Ning brought them here to harm them. 

I wouldn't have thought such a pretty dude could be so menacing, but holy crap.

The way he's confronting Wen Ning here is not his normal style. He's not trying to provoke a bigger fight like he usually does; he's not trying to create distance, the way Jiang Cheng does. He's very intimate, getting right in his face and maintaining eye contact. He trusted Wen Ning and feels personally betrayed.  

Shy little Wen Ning is remarkably calm when confronted like this. Wen Ning really isn’t afraid of anything, despite his general air of nervousness. (Full gifset of Angry WWX over here.) 

He calmly and kindly explains the situation. He doesn't appeal to Wei Wuxian's trust, saying "oh I would never;" he appeals to his logic, which gets through to him. 

Wen Qing comes out and the guards start banging on the door and Wei Wuxian flips out again, grabbing a sword and pointing it at Wen Qing as she decides what to do.  Wen Qing seems unruffled by Wei Wuxian's sword pointing, and we see her weighing up the situation.

She makes her decision, sending the guards away and deciding to help the fugitives, officially joining the Clear Conscience Club. She could probably get Wen Ning out of trouble by turning them in, but she opts to put personal loyalty and her belief in her own ideals ahead of her family's safety.

Wei Wuxian is not ok. He’s just not ok. He tries to act like it after they get settled in with Wen Qing, but he's not, and I think that plays into his next several choices. 

Next comes a whole sequence of Jiang Cheng being unconscious with pins in his head--ow--while Wei Wuxian twitchily tends to him. 

This sequence is kind of unfair to Jiang Yanli. What matters to the story here is Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian's relationship, so that’s the focus of these scenes. But really, there is no way Jiang Yanli would not be at Jiang Cheng's side unless she was literally unconscious herself. Let's assume Wen Qing stuck a needle in her to make her rest while she has a fever. Shippers should also feel free to assume that Wen Qing spent hours at her bedside, tenderly wiping her forehead and holding her hand as she recovered. In his sleep, while Wei Wuxian sits by his side, Jiang Cheng calls for his sister, mother, and father, but not for his brother. Ouch.  

Let's pause to appreciate Wei Wuxian's new outfit, which is the sort of getup most people in this society probably imagine Yiling Laozu wearing, rather than the low-key homespun stuff he actually spends his Yiling year in. This robe has fancy shoulders, shiny material, touches of Jiang purple, strange red hoody strings, and a fuckin' CAPE. He didn't bring any luggage with him from Lotus Pier, although he's still got his Yin Turtle Sword hidden in a bag of holding. So the most likely explanation is that Wen Ning hooked him up with this lewk. "Wei Wuxian is a nice person. He should have a magnificent cape."

Wen Wing and Wei Wuxian take a breather to stand on the porch and work out what their status is with each other, like a couple of fucking adults, which is amazing. Basically Wei Wuxian is ready to forget earlier Wen shenanigans, but is going to avenge Lotus Pier. 

Wen Qing isn't enthusiastic about that but doesn't argue, just asking, mostly rhetorically, if he plans to kill her too. He's uncomfortable considering that; the role of avenger isn't one that's comfortable for him, although he turns out to be extremely good at it. He does not, of course, plan to kill her too. In a few months, imprisoned in a Wen dungeon, she will be the only Wen left alive after Wei Wuxian 1.5(No-Gold Edition) and Chenqing come to visit.

Jiang Cheng finally wakes up, and the first thing he does is to test out his spiritual power by hitting Wei Wuxian as hard as he can. 

DUDE.

Look at Wei Wuxian's face, as he goes from happy, to shocked and hurt, to laughing it off. It's exactly like when Jiang Cheng shoved him in the Rock Lady temple. Has Wei Wuxian spent all of his years with Jiang Cheng going from affection, to hurt feelings, to pretending it's fine? God, I think he probably has.

This episode raises a question that will come up again later, but never be answered. That question is, what the fuck are these weird footies and why the fuck does Jiang Cheng wear them to bed?

Jiang Cheng reveals that his golden core is gone, that he can't cultivate any more, which means he can't avenge his parents or achieve any ambitions in life. Nobody has apparently given any thought to why Wen Zhuliu is called "Core-Melting Hand" before this, which is hilarious, frankly. If I fought with a guy called, for example, Brain-Eating Mouth, I think I would make certain assumptions about him and what he planned to do with my brain.

Something interesting is happening in this moment, because as he comes fully back to consciousness, Jiang Cheng pours out all of his trauma and horror to his brother, telling him about the core melting and practically wailing about his feelings over it all. And his brother understands, and ultimately finds a way to help him. What does Wei Wuxian do after his own trauma? Keeps it secret, so nobody finds a way to help him, although many people try to. So Jiang Cheng is, in this way at least...emotionally healthier than Wei Wuxian? That's unexpected.

Jiang Cheng is super upset and is mad at eternal scapegoat Wei Wuxian for saving him. Jiang Cheng would rather be dead than be a regular person. Whereas Wei Wuxian, faced with the same problem, is like, *shrug* I’ll adapt. These are both valid emotional responses to suddenly becoming disabled. Losing a golden core is definitely a disability, in this environment; it's not just about magic sword fights. Jiang Cheng's home is designed for people who can fly; Lan Wangji's home is designed for people who don't feel cold, and Wen Central is made of actual lava, for example. 

Jiang Cheng is already struggling with a lot of difficulties. He was raised by shitty parents, he's got anger management issues, he has a crushing weight of responsibility. And now he's also lived through the deaths of most of the people who matter to him. If sword cultivation is the one thing that gives him joy in life (ok one of two things, obviously fashion also gives him joy because he WORKS it), he can't reasonably be expected to rally when it's taken away.  

Oh, honey. Oh, baby boy. 

Wen Qing picks the worst moment to come in and tries to tend to Jiang Cheng, who starts off being devastated that the girl he likes is seeing the wreck he's become, and then moves along to helpless rage when he remembers that she's a Wen, and he screams at her to get out.  

Jiang Cheng is not able to put personal loyalty ahead of clan loyalty like Wei Wuxian is. Partly this is his nature, and partly it's his role as the lineal descendant of the clan leader. As a firstborn son of a gentry family, his destiny as clan leader is in his blood, and so is his responsibility to the clan. When Wei Wuxian praises Song Lan and Xiao Xingchen for caring less about bloodlines than about shared ambition, he is speaking from the position of someone who's bloodline ain't shit. Jiang Cheng will never be able to share that perspective.

Next: More of this excruciating episode!

Writing prompt: The Day I Discovered I Could Melt Your Fucking Core, by Wen Zhuliu Drabble prompt: Why I Wear Socks to Bed, by Jiang Cheng

[headheartbellarke]

Speak Now | WILLEX

dear @calamitykaty​ - happy valentine’s day! i’m your secret valentine, and i hope you have a brilliant, lovely day!! i just wanted to say that i absolutely adore your fics hehe :3 this one is for you, i hope u like it, you wonderful human!!

& a million thanks & kudos to @screwunsaidemily​​ / @jatpsecretvalentine​ for organizing this!! happy valentine’s day, raegan! and i hope today is as amazing as you are!!

✿◕ ‿ ◕✿

PAIRING(s): Alex Mercer x Willie, Flynn x Carrie Wilson, Julie Molina x Luke Patterson, past!Alex Mercer x Luke Patterson

WARNING(s): nothing haha just some fluff and we stan bobby in this house.. oh and some language

WORDS: 3.85k

SUMMARY: With his boyfriend marrying Carrie Wilson (well, in his defence, that’s his grandmother’s ‘dying wish’), Willie fancies himself to be the main character of a Shakespearean tragedy. Based on Speak Now by Taylor Swift.

KEEP READING BELOW OR READ ON AO3

     Willie exhales, watching his breath crystallize into tiny ice particles. He extends a hand to catch them, but that action causes the little cloud to dissipate.

  He rolls his eyes. Who has their wedding in Canada, in winter? Plus, not just on any day, but on Valentine’s Day.

  He fancies that he might as well be the main character of a Shakespearean tragedy. Watching your boyfriend get married is painful enough, but to a girl? That shit makes you feel as if your heart has a screw lodged in it. He feels as if he has the weight of the world on his shoulders.

  Willie likes to say that he hates Alex (i.e., the said boyfriend, the love, the light, the star of his life) – but that sentence leaves behind a bitter taste in his mouth, like he’s just had that weird cough syrup that his mother buys.

  Alex’s friends can definitely see through his act, like, right now.

  “Willie, relax! Everything’s gonna be alright!” Julie Molina, Alex’s bandmate, ‘unbiological sister’, and ‘best gossip partner’ exclaims. She is crouching beside him.

  “Julie, I’m not the type of guy to crash a wedding and sabotage it, especially one hosted by those…” His hand moves in circular motions, pointing to the direction of the church, where Alex’s parents are probably seated. 

  Luke Patterson, Julie’s boyfriend and Alex’s ex-boyfriend, and current best friend and bandmate pipes in. “Homophobic, racist mingers?”

  Willie grins. “Don’t know what that means but sounds accurate!”

  “You know, we are saving Alex’s life, right? Literally?” Bobby Wilson chimes in, Alex’s other best friend from his position behind them. They are currently hiding behind a table laden with sweets of all kinds, and it makes Reggie, the last of Alex’s best friend-cum-bandmates’ mouth water. 

  “I still can’t believe that his parents are forcing him to marry a girl!” Julie exclaims, ponytail bobbing as she speaks. Luke adds, “Not just any girl, but Carrie fucking Wilson.” 

  “My fucking cousin!” Bobby says, looking behind to check if anyone’s there. There is, but they’re all either part of the caterer’s group, or the waiters – they are currently outside a church, where the reception will be held, post wedding. The attendees, the families, everyone – are inside the church, for the wedding.

  “Hey, is Grandma Ruth really that sick?” Reggie finally asks, his eyes diverting from the sweets. Luke smiles sweetly at him. “I’m glad you finally decided to join us, Reginald.” 

  Reggie fails to catch the sarcasm in his tone, and he smiles brightly. Luke rolls his eyes, but a faint smile teases the corners of his lips. “Yeah, she really has stage four cancer.” 

  Julie says, “Poor Ruth.” 

  Luke huffs, “I don’t care that she’s dying – she shouldn’t fucking blackmail her grandson like that! Alex, honey, I’m dying. My dying wish, you ask? Marry someone. No, not your boyfriend of four years! Marry a girl, dummy. Homosexuality is a sin!” 

  Bobby adds, “Not just any girl, but your best friend’s cousin! Whose probably into Flynn, but, yeah, whatever.” 

  Julie smiles brightly at the mention of her best friend. “Oh, she definitely is.” 

  Reggie’s brows quirk. “I thought she was still into Nick.” 

  Bobby shakes his head. “They broke up last summer.” 

  Willie clears his throat, finally gaining some confidence. “He shouldn’t be marrying the wrong girl.” He exhales, and adds, as an afterthought, “Or any girl.” 

  “You two should be walking down the aisle, Willie.” Julie says, resting a hand on his shoulder. He nods, grateful for her support. 

  He remembers this morning, when he was at the grocery store, buying as many buckets of chocolate ice cream as he could fit in his arms. Suddenly, he had felt a warm hand wrap around the back of his throat, and he let out a yelp, dropping all the buckets. 

  He remembers thinking that the universe was against him. First, it’s the day of his boyfriend’s wedding, and along with that, someone’s here to kill him. Well, he thought, it’s better to die than – 

  “Willie!” A familiar voice exclaimed, and of course, it’s Julie – he realized that the hand that he thought was here to murder him, belonged to her. She was dressed in a long, pink, A-Line dress, that complimented her skin tone perfectly and – suddenly, Willie understood that it was a bridesmaid’s dress. Yep, she’s Carrie’s bridesmaid, along with Flynn. 

  Willie wondered if she was here to rub salt on his wound. 

  “What do you want?” He had mumbled, averting his gaze from her dress. Sure, it’s a pretty dress, but it reminds him of Alex, because he has a hoodie that he adores in the same colour. (It’s in Willie’s closet now, and he makes a mental note to burn it.) 

  “We have a plan.” She said, conspiratorially. 

  Willie sighed, leaning down to pick up the fallen containers of ice cream. “I’m not in the mood, Jules.” 

  She grinned, evilly. Or as evilly as you could while having an angelic face. 

  Sure, it took her a while to convince him to crash his boyfriend’s wedding, but on the way here, he felt as if it was worth it. Julie helped sneak him in, since he doesn’t have an invite – and he found the rest of Alex’s friends – Luke, Reggie, and Bobby waiting for him. 

  Now, as Carrie’s family emerges from the church doors, he doesn’t feel that way anymore. 

  “God, I think I’m gonna throw up just by looking at them.” Luke murmurs, while Julie slaps his shoulder. “Don’t say that, they look very… colourful.” 

  Bobby snorts. 

  Carrie’s family includes her parents, two of her cousin sisters and an aunt – and they are all dressed in pastel yellow. To be really honest, that colour looks like vomit. They stand in a circle in front of the church doors, and Willie notices her aunt rolling her eyes at the waiters. He sighs. This is the same aunt who told Carrie that ‘oh, honey, it’s just a phase’, when she came out as bisexual. 

  “Guys, guys, guys!” 

  Willie sees his cousin, Flynn, running in their direction, and stopping at their table. She huffs, catching her breath and he notices that she’s wearing the same dress that Julie is. 

  “Carrie is losing her shit, dude.” She says, once she’s breathing normally again. “Why?” Julie asks, concerned. 

  “Probably because she doesn’t wanna marry Alex? I don’t know, but she yelled at me for eating!” She exclaims, an annoyed expression taking over her face. 

  Willie and Bobby exchange a look – they all know that Carrie can get a little intense sometimes – she doesn’t mean harm, but on a day like this, you can’t really hold it against her. 

  “Where is she?” Julie asks, alarmed. 

  “She’s in the back. Her mom misplaced her veil, and its total chaos out there. Also, her gown looks like a fucking pastry.” 

  Everyone’s eyes widen, and Flynn sighs, looking away. “I hate everything.” 

  Willie knows that she’s feeling just the way he is. 

  Julie stands up. “Come on, let’s help her. And boys?” She points a finger in their direction. “Stick to the fucking plan.” 

  Everyone nods rapidly, and Reggie whispers, “Yes, mam.” 

  She kisses Luke, whispering something in his ear, and squeezes Willie’s shoulder, giving him a sympathetic look, before running off in the opposite direction with Flynn. 

  Watching Julie and Luke, Willie is suddenly overpowered by a memory, a memory that was gathering dust in his brain. He remembers a cold, dark winter morning in their – his and Alex’s – apartment. It was last year, and their first morning in that apartment, in their home. They were nineteen and couldn’t get enough of each other – even after three years of being together. Somehow, somewhere they felt as if an invisible string was pulling them closer and closer, until they merged into one. 

  He remembers Alex combing his fingers through Willie’s hair, and whispering, “Is it crazy if I say that this is everything that I’ve ever wanted in life?” 

  He had smiled, eyes filled to the brim with euphoria. “No, then that would mean that I’m crazy.” 

  “We’re both crazy.” 

  “Maybe.” He had pulled him closer, loving the way Alex buried his face in the crook of his neck. 

  “Willie?” Alex softly asked, drawing patterns on his bare skin. 

  “Hmm?” 

  “I want to wake up next to you every single day. Like, I don’t ever wanna be without you,” 

  “Me, too.” He had said, then adding, “I don’t see myself marrying if not you.” 

  He could feel his boyfriend’s grin. “Not gonna lie, I’ve thought about it. A little.” 

  “A little?” 

  “Okay, I’ve planned it all out.” They both laughed, and Willie felt as if he was flying. 

  Alex continued, “I imagine us getting married on a beautiful summer day – on the beach. Where we met all those years ago. Remember?” 

  Willie smiled. “How could I forget? I will love Flynn forever for bringing me to Julie’s sweet sixteen – I never thought that I’d meet my soulmate that day.” 

  “Yeah. I imagine Luke to be my best man, and Flynn to be yours. Julie and Carrie would be our groomsmaids, yep, I invented that – and Reggie and Bobby could be the other best men. It’s a little messy, because I love them all so much and I can’t choose – but yeah.” 

  “Funny that your ex-boyfriend will be your best man at our wedding.” 

  “Shut up, Willie.” 

  “Carlos could be the ring bearer.” 

  “I think he’s a little too old for that.” 

  “Well, you have a point. But he’s gonna be pissed if he doesn’t get a title like his sister does.” 

  “All right, he’ll be the ring bearer.” 

  “We could have a skateboard shaped cake.” 

  “We will… think about it.” 

  “And we won’t need a band!” 

  “I’m not playing at my own wedding!” 

  “Well, Bobby could take your place. I’m sure he won’t mind taking a day off his solo touring.” 

  “Yeah, that sounds nice.” 

  As they went over every possibility, every dream, the world melted away and all Willie could see were the oceans in Alex’s eyes. 

  Luke’s voice dissipates the haze of nostalgia around Willie’s brain. “Yep, Carrie’s family went inside.” 

  Bobby nods. “Okay, Willie, you stay with Reggie and Luke – I’ll go inside first and distract everyone, and y’all will come at my signal.” With that, he runs towards the church. 

  “Uh… what is his signal…” Willie trails off. Luke and Reggie exchange a panicked look, as Reggie says, “I’m sure we’ll figure it out! Besides – oh my god, are those flamingos?” 

  Willie and Luke’s eyes dart to the church door, where a bunch of flamingos – Carrie’s favorite bird, apparently – are on the loose and the waiters and the staff are running around trying to catch them. 

  “Boys, I think that’s our signal.” Luke says, grabbing their hands and dragging them towards the back of the church, where the girls had previously disappeared into. 

  Luke sneezes, and Willie absentmindedly whispers a ‘bless you.’ He shifts, saying, “There’s so much dirt here! It’s like nobody cares about my allergies!” 

  “I’m sure nobody in Canada will ever care about your allergies, Patterson.” Flynn hisses.

  The trio are currently hiding behind a curtain, the lilac shades sickening them. “Well, you wouldn’t be in this position if Alex’s lovely bride-to-be didn’t uninvite me!” Willie exclaims, looking around to make sure nobody is nearby. 

  “I’m sure she has a very good reason!” Flynn says, and Luke rolls his eyes, saying, “You’re saying that as if you don’t know Carrie. She’s hyper fixating on this wedding to distract herself from the fact that her parents will never accept her for who she is, from her fear about the fact that she’ll never get someone who sees and loves her for who she is and right now, she believes that this wedding would gain her parents’ favour, that somehow they’d be okay with her being bisexual if she’s married a man, a gay man at that, too – and now she’s doing everything in her power to make sure nothing gets fucked up.” 

  Willie and Flynn sharply look at Luke. 

  “Dude, that was deep.” He whispers. Flynn dabs the corner of her right eye. “You should be a therapist, bro.” 

  “I know, bro.” He grins. 

  Willie can’t stop a smile from breaking out on his face. He turns back to the scene in front of him, and his heart seizes because there’s Alex, dressed in a perfect tuxedo, with his hair perfectly done, with a perfect smile on his face, and Willie realizes that that is not the man he loves. 

  The man standing in front of him looks too pristine, too immaculate. It’s almost as if he is being strung up by invisible puppet strings, but his face doesn’t give away any of that – it’s absolutely blank, and Willie would have thought that the man in the front is not real if he hadn’t seen his eyes. His eyes, which houses cyclones, cyclones being fed by the apprehension, the fear, the anger, the sadness that he must be feeling inside. His eyes, that Willie loves to see first thing in the morning, showing off the parts of his soul that he is desperately trying to shield. 

  Willie wonders if he’ll see him standing behind the curtains. He probably won’t. Willie’s at the back of the room, and he’s at the front, waiting, waiting, waiting. For a moment, Willie wonders if Carrie is going to show up at all – because the wedding was supposed to start half an hour ago, and it doesn’t make sense why a person who has never been late in her entire life, would be late on her wedding day. 

  He doesn’t have to wonder long, though. The organ starts to play ‘Here Comes the Bride’, and honestly it sounds more like a death march. Willie is reminded, yet again, of another reason why this is not what Alex wants – he wants to play ‘Lover’ by Taylor Swift at his wedding. 

  Willie takes in a sharp breath when Carrie enters. She looks like a pageant queen – wearing a beautiful, white, classic dress. In one hand, she holds her dad’s arm, and in the other, there is a bouquet of daisies. 

  Flynn whispers. “I have to go. Boys, do not mess this up. Or I swear I’ll kill you.” 

  As the duo watch her run to the front of the room, Willie whispers, “Does she know about Carrie’s big, fat crush?” 

  Luke snorts. “You think so? Come on, let’s sit. They won’t be able to see us here.” 

  As they crouch down and make their way to the benches, Willie casts one last look at Alex, and he knows, he knows that Alex wishes it was Willie walking down the aisle instead.

     “Speak now, or forever hold your peace.” The preacher says, and Willie’s heart erupts into a frenzy. As the room goes completely silent, Luke whispers, “That’s your cue, Willie.” 

  Ignoring his anxiety, he stands up with his hands shaking, and his brain telling him to just fucking run out the doors. 

  Alex’s eyes widen, relief flooding his features, and for a moment, he looks like the real Alex again. Willie catches Julie and Flynn’s eyes, who are standing beside Carrie, and they nod at him, enthusiastically. But the bride, Carrie – she looks absolutely horrified. And so does all the other people in this room, including Alex’s parents, his grandma Ruth, and Carrie’s parents, too. 

  From Alex’s right side, Reggie and Bobby give him encouraging looks, and finally, he averts his eyes back to the man he loves. 

  But he can’t say anything. He feels as if he’s frozen in time, and his mind completely blanks out. For a moment he wonders if this is his rock bottom. 

  But Luke comes to the rescue, thrusting a guitar in his hands, and breaking him out of his trance. “I remember you told me that you can always sing, even if the world was ending. So, I brought this along, as backup.” 

  It’s true. Music is a part of his soul, much like it is Alex’s. Music is what connected them in the first place, and music is what still keeps them connected now. 

  He positions the guitar, and notices that it’s Luke’s acoustic guitar. He strums it, and finally, his mind comes back to himself. He keeps his eyes trained on that of Alex, and he watches the storm of emotions in his irises. 

  “I am not the kind of guy, who should be rudely barging in on a white veiled occasion…” He sings, loving how Taylor Swift has written a song for every occasion.

  “But you are not the kind of boy, who should be marrying the wrong girl!” He sings and hears loud gasps around the room – he knows that people expected him to be in love with Carrie or something. 

  “Or any girl!” Reggie adds, and Alex grins, and that gives him the motivation to continue. 

  “So, don't say yes, run away now. I'll meet you when you're out of the church at the back door… Don't wait or say a single vow – You need to hear me out, and they said speak now!” 

  He drags the ‘now’ for as long as he can, because he knows that the silence that will follow will be excruciating. And it is. Alex just stares at him, an unreadable expression on his face. 

  Willie finally looks at Carrie, and when their eyes meet, she gives him an odd look. He half expected her to kill him, but the way she looks at him, it’s almost as if she’s relieved. 

  Alex clears his throat, the sound piercing through the silence of the room. Whispers arise, and Willie exchanges a look with Luke, who asks him, “You want me to dig you a hole to die?” 

  Before he can nod, Alex says, “Uh…” He fiddles with his hands, before finally saying, “Fuck it”, and untying his tie. His mother gasps, and his father stands up, but he raises a hand. 

  He locks eyes with Willie, and his world spins on its axis. 

  “You are not the kind of guy to be rudely barging in on a white veiled occasion…But I am not the kind of boy… who should be marrying the wrong girl… or any girl!” Alex sings in that raspy voice of his, and Willie feels his heart soar. He can’t help the grin from escaping on his face, and he knows that his eyes are what Julie calls, ‘heart eyes.’ Luke grabs the guitar from Willie’s hand and starts playing along. 

  “And you'll say let's run away now, and I'll meet you when I'm out of my tux at the back door,” 

  Alex walks down the aisle, but suddenly remembers something, or rather, someone. He turns around, locking eyes with Carrie, and Willie can’t see what he’s saying, but Carrie smiles a big, soft one – one probably no one has ever seen on her face, and he sees her mouth ‘go.’ 

  “Baby, I didn't say my vows, so glad you were around; when they said speak now!” 

  He finishes, and stands in front of Willie, and Willie knows that the both of them can feel the air electrifying between them.   

  He turns, facing his grandmother. “Grandma, I’m sorry, but you’re 93, and I’m 20. I’m not going to give up my life for you to live. I love you, though. Mom, Dad, I’m truly sad that I’m not what you wanted. But I’m not gonna apologize for being myself, nor am I gonna apologize for loving who I want to. This is my life, and maybe it’s time that I start acting like it. I can’t keep wasting my life to please you. You – you should love me for who I am, that’s what good parents do.” Alex’s voice cracks, and Willie intertwines their fingers. Alex squeezes his hand. 

  Carrie’s mom stands up, shaking her head. “No, no, no… you do not get to ruin my daughter’s wedding –” 

  Alex’s father stands beside her, his face matching the shade of Carrie’s red lipstick. “I will not accept this –” 

  “Will?” Alex whispers, his eyes trained on his father. 

  “Yeah?” 

  “Run.” 

  With that, Alex tightens his hold on Willie’s hand, and the both of them run down the aisle, and outside. Willie can hear an uproar behind him, but it fades to background noise behind the thump of his heart. 

  “That was so fucking romantic!” Alex exclaims, as they come to a stop before Willie’s car. 

  “I just…” 

  “Wait – I’m sorry, Willie. I shouldn’t have put you through that. I should’ve fought more; I should’ve run away or something. That was not okay. I’m a twenty-year-old adult, and I should – I should – learn to be it, and not hurt any – anyone –” 

  “Hey, hey, hey…” Willie says, stepping closer to Alex. “It’s alright. They’re your parents. It’s not your fault that you want their approval. But I just want you to know that I love you, all of you, for who you are. And all of us do – Luke, Julie, Bobby, Reggie, Flynn, and even Carrie. We all love you, for who you are, and we’re always gonna be by your side.” 

  He smiles, cupping Willie’s face. “Thank you. Thank you so much. I – I love you so fucking much.” He kisses Willie, and the latter feels like he is floating amongst the stars. 

  “That – everything inside – from this tux to the decorations was horrible. I’m really glad that you… you know, stopped it.” Alex says, rubbing his thumb around Willie’s cheek. 

  He shrugs. “Well, it was your friends’ idea.” 

  “Of course it was.” 

  “Guys! Guys, guys, guys!” 

  Willie and Alex break out of their embrace at Carrie’s voice, who is currently running towards them, her dress bunched in her hands. Flynn is following her, holding her veil in her arms. Julie, Luke, Bobby, and Reggie are behind them, and they all have a look of panic plastered on their faces. 

  Flynn yells. “Carrie might’ve told your and her parents to fuck off, and your grandma to just die already, and so there’s a fair chance that we’re all gonna get killed, now that everyone knows that we’re all behind this.” 

  “Also, I threw red wine at our aunt’s dress, Carrie!” Bobby yells. 

  “I might have told your parents that they’re failures, and Julie and I are your real parents, Alex!” Luke yells. 

  “Also, Flynn and I are getting married!” Carrie yells. 

  Alex’s eyes widen, and he looks at Willie. “I think we all need to run.” 

  Willie nods, and he looks around. Maybe they will get killed (probably not), and maybe everything is a little crazy right now – but what he knows is that all of them are a family, and that he’d do anything for them. He also knows that Alex is worth everything, and that someday, they will get married, just the way they want, with the people that love them just the way they are. 

  Plus, is it weird to say that he kind of feels like Taylor Swift right now?

[aforrestofstuff]

What do you think the OPM characters' guilty pleasures would be? I feel like Tatsu loves soap operas and Atomic Samurai secretly loves a really popular boy band, like SMAP

Thanks for your request, anon! Sorry this took me so long to get to, you were buried in my inbox lol. But I hope this was worth the wait because oh boy this required all 3 of my brain cells.

Tornado of Terror: As you said, soap operas. She also loves candy apples in canon. But...she also is a HUGE fan of those really cheesy Cosmopolitan magazines that have all of the personality quizzes and the “which hot male celeb would date you” scenarios. She doesn’t fall for it one bit. In fact, she hate reads those fuckers in the same way that people pay to go see bad movies. It’s fun.

Silverfang: Yoga and following along to some cheesy-ass 80s workout videos. I’ve said he likes yoga in a previous headcanon, but he also likes to exercise along to some obnoxious 80s pop while some dude in a leotard instructs him on what to do from a TV screen. He wears sweatbands and legwarmers, too. The whole shebang. He only does it when he’s alone, though. Sometimes he’ll try to teach yoga to his disciples as a way to help them decompress after a long training session, but his workout tapes are his best-kept secret.

Atomic Samurai: I don’t know what a SMAP is, but he’s definitely got some questionable music choices going on considering he’s... well, the way that he is. I’d say he likes to listen to old country, like Marty Robbins and Glen Campbell. It’s really funny because you’ve got this intimidating man from Japan (or a fictional universe basically set in Japan) with a badass katana and shit but inside that empty head of his, there’s just a faint “out in the west Texas town of El Paso....”

Child Emperor: Picking at scabs. He’s often on his knees fixing shit in his lab, and he probably gets burned all the damn time from playing around with lasers so he’s undoubtedly always has a wound healing somewhere. Whenever he’s working on something, he’ll just absentmindedly pick at his scabs. It’s a bad habit and he knows it, but nothing beats the feeling of peeling off an entire patch of that shit. So satisfying.

Metal Knight: Buying books. He doesn’t even read them. He just buys bigass novels with smart-sounding names to fill up his library because he thinks it’ll make his dick grow another three inches or some shit. One of the few things he likes in this world (besides homicide) is the smell of a new book. If he’s feeling particularly pissy, he’ll go into his library and just ssssssnnnnnnnnnniififfffffffffff. He spends an outrageous amount of money on it. If he has anyone over (which is unlikely, but hypothetically speaking) and they mention his library by asking something like “have you read all of these?” It’ll be one of the few times in his life that he’ll feel shame.

King: Reading and writing fanfiction based on his favorite video game/anime series. Nobody knows he does this except his small following online, of course. And even more so, nobody online knows he’s an ultra-popular S-Class hero who’s friends with the most powerful man on earth. He’s actually a pretty decent writer, he just doesn’t take himself too seriously so the plotline to his stories tend to get a little haywire and overly self-indulgent. Let him have his fun. He just wants to be a Sailor Scout.

Zombieman: Singing. He actually used to be a good singer (he sounded like a discount Steve Perry back in the day), but constant smoking really fucked up his voice. He might as well have lungs the size of grapes because he can’t carry a note for more than 2 seconds without wheezing like an accordion with asthma. He’s never sang in front of anyone before because he thinks it’s silly thing that isn’t worth showing off. Play anything from The Eagles though, and he’ll have a hard time resisting.

Drive Knight: He likes to open up panels in his arms and legs to play with the wires (basically a robot’s version of nerve endings, I’m assuming) just so he can feel something. It’s kind of sad because he doesn’t experience pain or the cold or being tickled... (I know what y’all are thinking and you’d better STOP). So he sometimes takes it upon himself to dick around with his insides and dip his toe into what it feels like to be human, even if it’s just for a little bit. He’s super secretive about it (he’s just secretive about everything, really) because he doesn’t want anyone to know that he desires something outside of being a weapon of mass destruction justice.

Pig God: His whole schtick is basically indulging in a guilty pleasure — pigging out on delicious food with no regard whatsoever for one’s overall health. Other than that, however, he does like to collect body pillows. There, I said it. All he fucking does is eat and he’s too much of a big boi to be going out 24/7, so he’s gotta be on the internet/watching anime/playing video games/reading manga during all of that downtime between his stints of doing hero work. His bed is fucking ginormous to handle all of that big boy-ness and on it, he has his body pillow nest. He rests on a throne made for kings. A true icon.

Superalloy Darkshine: Also working out along to some cheesy 80s exercise videos. His hero outfit was inspired from what those ravishing instructors would wear on the television. Well, it was supposed to be a full leotard but it ripped every time he flexed just a tiny bit so the speedo is the only thing that’s left. He’s gotta hella rhythm and keeps up with the music using little to no effort. Although, he can’t go too hard because he’s also a big boi and he’ll literally shake the entire building if he gets too turnt up. Dance muscle boy, dance.

Watchdog Man: Eating too many dog treats lol. Sometimes while he’s stationed on his little podium thing, visitors will leave him little offerings like dog treats and other miscellaneous food items/toys. He never takes them or eats them in front of people, but he often brings everything home with him after a long day just to gobble that shit up. He’s gained a little weight since he started doing it but you can’t even notice it because his suit is hella bulky. Some of it is due in part to stress-eating because being a dog and dude at the same time is hectic, but it’s honest work.

Flashy Flash: Racing shit. Whenever he’s on his travels during, say, assassination missions or hero work, he gets hella bored really quickly. So, to help with this, he’ll often race birds or planes flying in the sky on his way to his destination to see who’s quicker (it’s always him). Sometimes he’ll even play catch with himself by throwing a pine cone or something and running to the place he guesses it’ll land before it even touches the ground. He just does a ton of weird speedster shit whenever he’s bored and he’ll deny it if anyone asks.

Genos: Purposefully putting a little bit too much oil on his joints after each upgrade so he’ll be as slick as a salamander. It’s a really funny feeling to be able to move your limbs with little to no resistance without having to worry about popping or breaking anything. It just makes him feel so agile despite being like, a hunk of actual metal. If he wasn’t so uptight, he would loosen the screws in his fingers to he can bend them almost all the way back (he’s actually thought about it a few times), but both Dr. Kuseno and his 3 remaining braincells attested to that. He just likes to tinker around with his body and see what weird shit he can do. It’s a bad habit because it’s led to a few things being broken on multiple occasions.

Metal Bat: Zenko’s shitty pop music. Whenever he drops her off at school or piano practice, he’ll immediately go home and blast that shit on full volume (because he’s practically deaf from always jumping out of falling buildings and continuously blasting music in his earbuds) while doing chores and the like. He’s one of those people that HAVE to have something going on in the background as they’re getting shit done. He’d rather be caught dead than listening to the OPM equivalent of Taylor Swift because he knows Zenko would never let him live it down.

Tanktop Master: Wearing suits around the house when he’s not even going anywhere. He’s got to wear his tanktop 24/7 whenever he’s in public to keep up The Image (which he has no problem with, he genuinely loves the tanktop ideology) but he also needs to feel fancy every once and a while. So, if he happens to have the time while in between appearances, he’ll prance around in a suit tailored just for him. Because he’s so fucking huge that he had to pay someone a large sum to custom make an outfit that actually fits. He is 7-motherfucking-feet tall. 7.

Puri-Puri Prisoner: Making Valentine’s Day cards all times of the year. Listen, it gets boring as hell in prison. Sometimes the guards will let all of the inmates have a little glitter and glue to keep themselves busy because no harm can come of a little arts and crafts, right? He likes to make cards on the daily just to let all of his lovers know how much he appreciates them. If they express even the slightest amount of disdain for his creations, he’ll spent the next week crying in the darkest corner of his cell block. He also likes origami. Origami is huge in prison because it’s hella time-consuming and guaranteed to calm a busy mind. His favorite things to make are little unicorns.

Amai Mask: Bath bombs. There have been several mishaps in which he’s used a poorly-made bath bomb and came out of the tub looking like Shrek but he’s grown and lot since then, okay? After a long day or a particularly stressful concert, he’ll sink into some hot water and drop a ball of lavender-scented goodness in there. It’s become a bit of an addiction because he’s got multiple cabinets dedicated solely to his collection, but at least he always smells divine.

Iaian: Shakespearean dramas. Kama got him hooked on theater shit and he’s since ripped through all of the most well-known plays. He thinks in iambic pentameter. It wasn’t always noticeable since he’s a quiet, well-reserved guy but his fellow disciples and Kami have recently noticed that he’s developed a bit of a dramatic flair. Even worse, he’s started calling himself a knight whenever he puts on his armor. Everyone prays it’s just a phase but seeing as how stubborn Iaian is, that seeks highly unlikely. Kami is dying inside because he can’t handle another drama nerd.

Okamaitachi: Soap operas, like Tatsumaki. Kama is the most dramatic out of all of the disciples so it’s only natural that she’d like the most dramatic genre of any show out there. She doesn’t exactly watch them religiously though. She’s the type of viewer to drop off the face of the earth for three seasons and come back without knowing what the fuck is going on (because the disciples have limited access to cable due to Kami’s dumbassery and ignorance to anything technology-related), but still cry during the finale anyway because oh no these people are so hot and one of them is deaaaaaad and the other one is that person’s long-lost sister....

Bushidrill: Taking alcohol from Atomic Samurai’s stash every so often. Bushidrill knows what the good shit is and he could buy it himself if he wanted to, but why would he when there’s a perfectly good alcoholic to steal from living right down the hall? He only takes in small doses because, believe it or not—he’s smart, but Kami isn’t gonna notice regardless of whether or not Bushi takes 1 or 5 bottles at a time because the old shit couldn’t spot a purple raccoon if it was 3 feet in front of him. There have been times where Bushi has opened bottles of Kami’s alcohol right in front of him just to play God and he always, without missing a beat, says “Oh, we have the same taste. How neat.”

Fubuki: I’ve said this before in a previous headcanon, but she has a mild obsession with Victorian aesthetic. She’s got a small collection of semi-authentic ballgowns that cost upwards of a-fuckton-of-money each, but anything’s worth it to be able to play dress-up with Lily. Fubuki’s favorite thing is making Lily feel beautiful because everyone has been an insecure teenager at one point and she knows how it feels to not be comfortable in one’s own skin. This isn’t exactly a guilty pleasure because she’s not guilty about it, but it’s almost gotten to a point where an intervention is needed. She’s got so many damn dresses and sooooo much fine china....

Saitama: Retail therapy, lol. Saitama is only good at budgeting because he has no choice given how fucking poor he is, but give this boy even a little bit of leeway and he’ll buy the ugliest clothes (to which he thinks look poppin’) and the best meats without even batting an eye. His entire manga collection is the product of him having little to no self control the moment he realizes he’s got a bit of money to spend on himself. This is also the only time he’ll experiment with cooking because now he can actually afford to fuck up, literally.

Mumen Rider: Sweets! I’ve said this in a previous hc but he has a major sweet tooth. You can substitute salt for sugar in any given recipe and he’ll see it as a major improvement because he just goes absolutely buckwild for anything sweet. His pancreas is suffering, but he believes nothing feels better than curling up under the covers on a rainy day with a heaping helping of milk chocolate. The only thing that makes him feel better after getting beat to shit is a kiss on the cheek and box of his favorite cookies (and some bananas, lol).

Sonic: Like Flash, he also likes racing things. But, in addition to that, his guilty pleasure is doing his own hair in elaborate hairstyles (when it was longer). He’s pretty much homeless so he’s got a lot of time to himself in between murders. This is when you can find him sitting in the woods somewhere braiding flowers into his hair and tying it off with a moss ribbon. He’d never admit he does this because he’s a big macho man and he’d probably cry.

Garou: Spicy chips. I’ve said this before in a previous hc, but he absolutely inhales his food without even tasting it half the time so it’s not even like he gets to enjoy the flavor that much. He just likes the burn because he’s a shithead. He also doesn’t fear death or a torn-up asshole, so he’ll eat an entire family-sized bag of the OPM-universe equivalent to Takis without even batting an eye. He’s been beat to shit so many times that the agony that comes with downing so much spice is lost on him. He doesn’t even need water. It’s insane. Someone stop this madman at once.

[the-navistar-carol]

Daminette Songfic: ‘Summer of ‘69’ by Bryan Adams

From the Maribat AU of @ozmav

@maribat-archive I’m back at it again >:)

I got my first real six-string

Bought it at the five-and-dime

When he had first been taken in by Bruce Wayne, he had turned up his nose at the prospect of entertaining some kid superhero from France. She wasn’t going to be impressive.

She wasn’t even going to be good!

Man, Damian thought to himself, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, was I wrong.

Played it 'til my fingers bled

Was the summer of '69

It had taken forever for them to even consider being on speaking terms, let alone friends. That alone had been a marvel in and of itself.

Not that he’d trade it for anything in the universe. If it came to it, he would probably let the world burn for another minute with her.

“Dude,” Dick had whistled. “You are whipped.”

Again, he’d turned up his nose at the prospect. He hadn’t even known what the former Robin had meant.

But yeah. I had been.

Me and some guys from school

Had a band and we tried real hard

She’d never given up, not even when she was flung into the floor. Not that she did now. Ladybug, Marinette, was and is the greatest girl he knew.

Top of her class, an aspiring designer, with the biggest heart he had ever seen. And not only that, but she was a superhero, saving cities on the daily and pulling the croissants out of the oven.

At least he had a family, people who were there as backup. And not to mention the budget of a billionaire.

She managed with a family who barely knew what she got herself into, a class who had turned against her, and the funds of a bakery. Plus public schooling.

Damn, he mused. If she was one of us, look out Joker.

Jimmy quit, Jody got married

I should've known we'd never get far

Dick had befriended her first. Well, second, after Alfred. But he had taken the first step.

His teasing had never failed to make her laugh, giggles scrunching up her nose and a beaming smile that lit up the room. Ladybug and Nightwing would have late-night philosophy talks, making each other think beyond their boundaries.

She’d taught him to bake, always there with patience when he’d fudged a recipe.

The eldest Robin had shown her more complicated gymnastics (not that she wasn’t already more flexible than most of them would ever be), and acrobatics that turned her every slip and fall into a tumble, and she’d roll right back up onto her feet.

Dick had taught her how to get back up.

Oh, when I look back now

That summer seemed to last forever

Jason had taken her under his wing after Dick.

Whenever she’d curled into a ball, shuddering after a hard practice, he would toss her into the air and take off like a shot, careening through the halls of Wayne Manor. It wasn’t long before her laughs rang off the walls, the Red Hood with a wild grin.

They had the sibling dynamic — there for each other, even at their faults.

Marinette had introduced Jason to color schemes and designs, at least how costumes worked. It was most definitely because of that awful helmet.

Jason, on the other hand, had taught her how to shoot. It was out of necessity, he claimed. If she didn’t know how to defend herself, and her yo-yo was out of reach, she may not have a choice.

Jason had given her the tactics nobody thought she would know.

And if I had the choice

Yeah, I'd always wanna be there

Tim had warmed up to her third, although he had been a bit worried about her age.

As her superhero duties became more needed back in Paris, the two of them started working together at night, on cases none of the rest could crack. The Insomnia Buddies, she’d dubbed them. Or, rather, as Tim called them, the Coffee Crew.

Whenever he became stressed to the point of a breakdown, she taught him meditation, she taught him calm.

The Red Robin showed her computers, and how to bypass firewalls with a tap of a key. Underhanded, but in case she needed the information.

Tim had taught her how to think.

Those were the best days of my life

He, Damian, had taken the longest. It had taken years to become as close to her as the other three were.

But they eventually bonded over common interest and curiosity about the other, growing closer every time they spent an hour in each other’s presence.

Marinette opened his mind to possibilities outside simply what had been placed in front of him. You never have only two choices, she told him firmly, eyes narrowed in determination. Never.

The newest Robin may not have been the first to pick her back up after a tough spar, but he would always be there in a real one, whether it was to take the hit or let her rest.

He, Damian, had given her a real partner.

Ain't no use in complaining

When you've got a job to do

The summers she spent at Gotham had become less of a chore and more like a long-lost family member returning to them. They gained inside jokes, and Skype chats between Gotham and France became more common, until it was almost an everyday thing.

They watched each other grow from bratty kids to mature teenagers, from gangly to sure of themselves.

And man, had her almost literal transformation had him whipped.

Watch out, Hawkmoth.

Spent my evenings down at the drive-in

And that's when I met you, yeah

He’d joined an exchange program to Paris, planning on not telling her, but of course the day he had Jason blurted it out on their nightly video call.

She’d gone absolutely red, and fallen off her desk chair with a loud thud. To this day, it brought a smile to his face.

“R-really?” Her voice had been hesitant, but excited nonetheless. “I can’t believe it! When are you coming?”

Dick, from his position out of the way of the camera, gave Damian a knowing look, a wry grin, and a small wiggle of his eyebrows.

Dumbass.

Standin' on your mama's porch

You told me that you'd wait forever

It wasn’t long after that announcement, when she was in her final year of lyceé, that her video chats had started to become more… tired. She’d change the subject whenever they talked about her classmates or, worse, her friends.

It wasn’t only him who had noticed it. Tim had been the first to pick it up, and immediately set off on finding information about the class. Without telling Marinette, of course.

What he found was no concrete proof, but more videos on the Ladyblog detailed a girl named Lila Rossi.

An awful liar if he ever saw one.

Oh, and when you held my hand

I knew that it was now or never

The detective work lasted a week and a half before it was outed. Marinette didn’t get mad about it, but simply hung her head and apologized for not telling them.

His heart had torn to see his angel beaten down like this.

She was across the ocean, president of a class he couldn’t defend her against.

He, Robin, a superhero, was useless.

The exchange program left in six months.

Too long.

Those were the best days of my life

He went to her over winter break, though. Thank whatever higher power he could.

As soon as he had stepped into her room with the door closed, she had broken down in his arms. His brothers were right behind him, and joined the hug with words of comfort and encouragement.

It had taken her half an hour to calm down, but when she had finished, they were tears of happiness. Happiness that they were there for her.

“We’re gonna make this the best two weeks of your year, little lady” Jason had promised her with a crooked grin, the white patch in his hair tousled.

Tim didn’t miss the way she looked away at the word lady. “Mari-bug, what’s going on?”

She took a deep, shuddering breath, and tugged Damian over to her bed, not wanting to let go of him. “It’s a long story.”

We aren’t going anywhere, angel.

Oh, yeah.

Back in the summer of '69

When she finished, she had had to take breaks three times—three times!—to calm herself down.

“And I’ve almost been akumatised because of this, a few times,” she admitted, her voice a quiet whisper. “I figured out how to not let my emotions get the best of me, though. My parents don’t really know.”

Jason’s expression clearly told Damian he was in need of a skinning knife. Or guns. Guns were faster.

A series of pops filled the room. Dick, an uncharacteristically serious expression on his face, had popped his knuckles. “I think that it’s time some other people knew the harm Lila caused.”

“And if she gets akumatised,” Damian added, “she’s well deserved it.”

“She can’t keep going like this and not receive the consequences,” Tim put in. “It’s not right.”

Hell’s coming to Lila Rossi.

Man we were killin' time

We were young and restless

And the damned Lila situation didn’t even begin to cover Chat Noir. But Marinette insisted they get away from the topic.

She was on winter break, dammit, and Jason was hellbent on making good on his promise.

Tim had the best idea, oddly enough. An arcade.

While Damian had found the concept childish at best, the way Marinette’s eyes lit up at the prospect quickly stilled any protest.

To the flashy lights and cheap prizes we go.

We needed to unwind

I guess nothin' can last forever, forever, no! yeah!

Once they got there, Dick was quick to pull out his credit card and get a near- unlimited token supply. He nudged Damian with a sly grin. “Get her a big prize, loverboy.”

Thankfully, he said it out of her hearing range. Then he pushed him over, and they toured the arcade together.

Naturally, Jason was a master at the shooting games. Tim was an unexpected genius at Guitar Hero. Dick, of course, managed to beat the highscore on DDR by a good hundred thousand points. Show-off.

You deserve all the joy, angel.

And now the times are changin'

Look at everything that's come and gone

The two weeks had come and gone like nothing. But the two months afterward were an absolute hell of a waiting game.

But Marinette was happier, knowing that her Gotham friends were there for her.

“He’s still whipped,” Dick cackled one night after a video call.

Tim grinned, and ruffled Damian’s hair. “I can see why.”

He’d only growled at them, but they persisted anyway, giving bad advice they knew full well was awful.

But what else were brothers for?

Sometimes when I play that old six-string

I think about you, wonder what went wrong

The exchange program left them in Mlle. Bustier’s class. Well, at least Damian and a few schoolmates.

He could see just how bad the class was for himself.

At his first step into the class, he had been mobbed by a tanned brunette (Lila) claiming to be his lost soulmate, which he quickly and sharply shut down, and proceeded to sit next to Marinette.

Damian could hear her fake sobs from all the way in the back.

“Can you believe it?! He doesn’t remember me!”

Oh, fuck off.

Standin' on your mama's porch

You told me that it'd last forever

He stood, furious, and proceeded to give a thorough explanation on why she was wrong, a liar, and an awful person.

“I’ve never met you, I’ve known Marinette since I was ten, and I don’t see how the daughter of a single French domestic diplomat would ever meet an American at a charity gala in Gotham!”

Silence.

Then explosion.

Not fiery, of course. Of apologies, launched directly at Marinette.

She simply raised a hand to quell them in their tracks. “Some of you I will be able to forgive. Some of you I will not be. Thank you for your apologies.” Her tone was nowhere near the broken girl who had sobbed in his arms two months ago. She was reforged, stronger than steel.

And with a head held high like that, nothing can bring you down.

Oh, and when you held my hand

I knew that it was now or never

Nathanaël, Alix, Ivan, Myléne. They were able to be forgiven easier than the rest.

Sabrina and Chloé, she was neutral to. They, if they wanted to gain her trust, had a neutral starting ground.

Max, Kim, Nino. They were forgiven less easily, and would take weeks to even be on friendly terms again.

Alya, Lila, and Adrien she probably never would.

And he was perfectly fine with that.

They don’t deserve her.

Those were the best days of my life

Near the end of the exchange program, he took her to the Eiffel Tower as the sun set, overlooking all of Paris. He wasn’t nervous, of course he wasn’t. Damian Wayne, nervous in front of the girl he had been absolutely whipped for for the better part of a year?

Oh, you better believe it.

At the top tier, he covered her eyes for the entirety of the ride.

“Damiaan.” She was struggling to hide giggles. “I’ve seen this before, y’know?”

“Nah,” he grinned. “You haven’t.”

The top deck was empty, devoid of any and all tourists.

And then the fireworks started, filling the sky with all the colors of the rainbow.

Worth it.

Oh, yeah

Back in the summer of '69, oh

She grabbed his hand, eyes widening in surprise as a dazzling smile swept any amusement off her face and replaced it with wonder. “Oh my God, Dami.”

“I told you, you haven’t seen this before.”

“Wait— you— for me?”

Don’t you dare freeze.

“For you,” he agreed. “I love you, Marinette.”

Those words had been like weights—saying them the first time was hard.

It was the summer of '69, oh, yeah

Me and my baby in '69, oh

She didn’t say anything, only turned her gaze away from the fireworks and to him, the colorful explosions mirrored in her silver eyes. She was close, he could quite distinctly smell the strawberry lip gloss.

“Dami, I…” Hesitation. Shit.

Then, she launched herself at him, arms going around his neck as she crushed him in a tight hug. His arms came up to pull her close.

“I love you too, you extra idiot!”

Oh.

It was the summer,

They had shared a first kiss then, beneath the fireworks and the stars and the moon.

Neither of them were particularly any good, and she kept giggling, but he wouldn’t have traded it for anybody else.

Nor anywhere else.

Never in the world.

the summer,

This time, after she had graduated université, started as a designer, and finally moved to Gotham, they didn’t have to wait for time zones.

This time, as he caught his breath when he saw her in dazzling white, they would never have to wait again.

And this time, they could face things together.

Was he still absolutely whipped for Marinette Dupain-Cheng?

Always.

the summer of '69, yeah

[isthisthingeven0n]

overly cautious : j.w

brief summary: you’re natalies sister and for months she’s been trying to introduce you to jeff. but unlike her, you’re less keen on the idea as you’re cautious of his past.

word count: requested: yes, I combined two requests together for this. one from an anon and the other from @tearsforhan 💛 warnings: none really

* masterlistin’

(everything on my blog is my own writing. if it is shared on another page or website know it isn’t me. all rights reserved. - i have to start doing this as I had some shit on my other blog with plagiarism)

“He’s nice, I promise.” Natalie pulls on your hand as you sigh loudly.

For weeks she’s been trying to get you to visit, and now that you finally have graduated college it couldn’t be a better time.

“Nat, I really don’t care.” You groan as you near the house you consider a second home. “From what I’ve seen, he’s no good to be ‘round.” You tell her, having seen the footage of him talking about his sketchy past.

“That was years ago, Y/n.” Natalie reminds you, something she’s been drilling into you for months as you would FaceTime her and David from your apartment. “He’s changed a lot. Just, just meet him at least.” She states in her authoritative big sister tone.

Rolling your eyes you have no choice but to comply. She pushes open the front door and you see familiar faces who smile. The sound of music increases, drowning out what Natalie says to you as she wanders off, leaving you by the doorway.

“Hey!” You turn and see David who brings you into a hug. He yells to you over the music, but you are oblivious to what it is he’s actually saying. “Have you met Jeff?” He speaks clearly this time, just about being clear over the music.

He can clearly see your face drop as you shake your head. David pats your shoulder as he motions to the tall guy across the house, standing by the kitchen where a selection of drinks are displayed. “I’ll go see Zane first, I know he’s been wanting to catch up.” You tell David, putting the inevitable off for a while longer.

“Alright, alright,” David mutters to himself, holding his hands up in defence as he walks off and disappears into the crowd of the party.

Wandering through the crowds, you pass by various strangers. You feel someone grab your bum, and you turn seeing someone smirking to you. “Not happening.” You mutter, moving away from the crowd and head to the bar for a drink.

“Some people don’t have boundaries when drunk.” You hear someone comment and you nod along as you pour a drink into the red cup, purposely picking something strong. 

You down the liquid instantly, feeling the burn down your throat as you cough quietly, covering your mouth to avoid anything coming back up. Instantly, your hand outstretches for another drink and you feel someone moving closer. 

“Night goin’ that bad?” He questions and you turn your head. 

Looking up, you see who it is. After months of seeing him merely through a screen, he’s finally stood in front of you with a small smile lacing his lips. “Could say that.” You mutter in response, unsure if he’ll hear you over the music. 

“I’m Jeff, by the way.” He tells you as he leans against the counter, facing the crowd as you roll your eyes.

“Yeah, I know who you are.” You respond, watching as he quickly turns around and faces you. 

His eyes wander over your face, picking out details and his eyes widen. His fingers snap together as he opens his mouth. “You’re Natalie’s sister, aren’t you?” He questions and you hold up the red cup, nodding. 

“The one and only.” You say with a light laugh, emptying the cup before slamming it back down. 

Jeff chuckles to himself as you glance up at him with a straight face. “Sorry, you’re just really pretty.” He states. But he watches as you scoff lightly, pouring a new drink. “Okay, normally girls respond at least.” 

“Sorry, I’m not really one to fall for those kinda lines I hear literally every single day.” You tell him and Jeff nods. 

“Okay, not a fan of pick up lines. I’ll take note.” He jokes, smiling to you as you hold your drink in your hand, looking around for anyone you know to serve as a distraction from talking to him for much longer. “I take it if you know me, you know about my past then? That what this is all about?” He motions and you quietly sigh.

“I just don’t know if I should trust you. I mean, everyone else does, but I don’t get it.” You tell him, feeling a bit tipsy already as you sway in front of him, resting your hand on your hip. “Like, you seem alright I’ll admit, and you’re hot, I’ll let you have that.” 

“Thanks,” He comments, but you hold your hand up stopping him. 

“Hold on.” You state as you take a sip of your drink. “But you seem sketchy like you have bad businesses going on behind the scenes or some shit.” You suggest and Jeff shrugs his shoulders. 

“I can neither confirm or deny.” He tells you with a small smile. “You don’t have to trust me, just like I don’t have to trust you.” He explains and you nod, accepting that fact. “How about a dance at least? Can’t do any harm, right?” 

You glance over, trying to see Natalie but she’s nowhere to be found. All you can hear in your head is her telling you to give him a chance. So, you listen to her for once and accept. “Alright, one dance.” You tell him and he nods, taking your hand as you weave into the crowd, dancing along with him.

As you dance, you can feel his hands resting on your waist, not daring to move further south without your permission. Your hairs rise up as you turn to face him, smiling to him until you feel someone grab your ass. 

Jeff watches as your smile drops and sees a guy behind you staring. “Dude, what the fuck?” Jeff yells to the guy as you rest your hand on Jeff’s arm. “Why you grabbing girls like that?” Aggression rises in his voice, and the guy backs away.

“Meant no harm, dude.” The guy retorts and you cross your arms. 

Looking down at you, Jeff can see how uncomfortable you are by this and takes your hand, leading you out from the crowds and into the garden. “I’m sorry.” He mutters to you as you remain too quiet for his liking as your eyes remain fixated on the ground. 

You shake your head. “You don’t have to be, not your fault.” You tell him quietly as you wander over to the railings where it’s much quieter as most people remain inside. “I just hate that shit like that happens.” You say with a sigh as you run your fingers through your hair, oblivious to his eyes on you. “Like, who has the right to do that shit?” You groan loudly. 

“It’s a shitty attitude some guys have. I hate to admit I’ve been there, but having learnt the consequences you realise it isn’t fair to anyone to be like that.” Jeff states and it takes you by surprise. 

Raising an eyebrow to his comment, you look up at Jeff and he nods. “Seriously?” You ask him with a small laugh. “You are proof that there’s life after being a fuck boy?” 

Jeff holds his hands up. “Living proof, in the flesh.” He jokes, making you smile. “And I don’t use lines often on girls anymore. I try and at least get to know them first.” He tells you quietly, smiling softly to you. 

“Good to know.” You comment back, glancing up. “And I’m sorry I thought ill of you before.” You tell him. “Probably thought too soon as you do seem like a decent guy after all.” 

“So you admit it?” He questions, watching as a smile plays on your lips. 

You nod to him. “I’ll admit it.” You say as your hands rest on the rails, close to his. Slowly, you nudge them closer to his, shuffling closer to Jeff as your head rests on his arm. “You’re an alright guy, after all, Jeff.” 

[breakingsomething]

october tenth - part three

ok so this one is 8.7k words so be warned. tagging @beebmo for inspiring this idea!

basic summary: aiden takes guitar lessons. jack meets a man in a store. both of them keep secrets and don't communicate, as per usual.

trigger warnings: blood, alcohol, mentions of murder, self harm

aiden hadn't realized just how lacking in social skills he was until he was attempting to make contact with someone other than jack for the first time.

the door of the music store was red, with a small window on the front. it was covered in colourful flyers and newsletters, advertising various events and things aiden knew nothing about. there was a small sign that said "push" in bold black letters. aiden had been staring at it too long to feel comfortable. shaking slightly in his long black coat and beanie. too afraid to step inside.

"excuse me, are you going in or not?"

aiden jumped, not turning to look and see who had spoken but instead quickly pushing open the door open and stepping inside. the store was much warmer than the biting air outside, the lights so bright it made aiden wince. there were stacks of records and cds and vinyls, so many vivid colours and patterns and fonts. a loud song aiden didn't recognize blasted over speakers above. aiden felt his lips twitch at the corners. oh, he thought he already loved this place. was it just because it was somewhere other than jack's place? he didn't know. didn't care enough to think about it.

he glanced around for the employee he was supposed to talk to, anxiety bubbling in his chest again. it wasn't just that he was an introvert or antisocial, though he supposed those were supporting factors - but he had literally never held a conversation with anyone other than jack in his life. on a couple occasions he'd spoken a few words to others, but now… now, he was not only going to have to talk, but pretend to be jack at the same time. which he could do. maybe. in front of a camera was one thing, but…

"can i help you, sir?" said a man dressed in all black, with a nametag on his shirt. rhudy, it said his name was. "are you jack? just wondering, you look rather lost."

aiden just nodded, for all his usual cockiness suddenly rendered unable to speak. rhudy smiles, dimples appearing in his pale cheeks. "alright!" he stretched out a hand for aiden to shake. he didn't take it, swallowing hard, and rhudy retracted his arm without changing expression. "come round the back, i'll show you around. we only have a small space for lessons, hope you're not claustrophobic, ha!" he beamed, and turned to walk in the other direction, quickly weaving through the shelves.

no, he wasn't claustrophobic. he was, however, breathing very heavily and feeling rather like he needed to sit down. he wanted jack. gods, he wanted jack. with a shuddering breath - this was pathetic, he needed to calm the fuck down - he followed the other man to the back.

it was small. red walls covered in shelves, stacks of different instruments in one corner next to a large window covered with white curtains. there were five chairs in a circle in the centre of the room on top of an oval crimson rug. rhudy pulled a chair and sat, aiden very slowly following but staying as far away from him as he could. every nerve in his body was screaming at him to run.

"now, jack," the man said, running his fingers though wavy black hair, dyed blue at the ends. "my name's rhudy, pronounced roo-dee, it's great to meet you. you told me you know a bit of guitar already?"

jack had told him that. aiden nodded again, biting his tongue so hard blood welled up in his mouth.

rhudy gave a small laugh, reaching behind him and grabbing a red acoustic guitar, much like aiden's own but definitely in better condition. "do you talk, then? nothing wrong if you don't want to, just wanting to know."

aiden flushed, forcing himself to open his mouth. "yeah, yeah, course," he said, far too quickly. his fingers gripped the underside of his seat far too tightly.

rhudy blinked, then tilted his head slightly. there was a moment of silence before he spoke, his words sending spikes through aiden's heart. "your name isn't jack, is it?"

aiden was going to throw up. "course it is," he laughed nervously, voice far too high pitched. fuck, but he hated this man for making him feel this way. how did he know, how did he -

"no," rhudy said firmly, leaning forward in his seat, guitar on his lap forgotten. "it's not. and you're…" he lowered his voice. "you're definitely magic or something, it's coming off you in waves. what kind of magician are you, then?" he folded his hands. "also, what's your real name? just by looking at you, i think maybe it starts with an a." he started listing off ideas, ignoring aiden's small noises of protest. "andrew? anthony? aleksanteri? antiseptic?"

he then seemed to notice how pale aiden had gone and how badly he was shaking. "oh, oh, i didn't mean to upset you," he said, sitting up again awkwardly.

"y-you didn't," aiden spat, trying to disguise his panic with anger. he wanted to fucking kill this man, he wanted to… oh, this wasn't right, he couldn't be here, he had to go home to jack. aiden stood, pushing past the chairs and making for the door. "i think this was a mistake."

"wait, wait!" rhudy said, setting his guitar aside as he leapt to his feet and stumbled past the chairs to stand in front of aiden. "i am so sorry, i get carried away sometimes and i swear i didn't mean to -" he took a breath. "sorry, really. i'll call you jack if you want."

aiden burned. he wanted to run, he wanted to pull the switchblade from his jacket pocket and rip this man's throat out. "ok," he instead said softly. more blood in his mouth as he sat back down, rhudy following.

he narrowed his eyes, desperately trying to push through his slowly building panic attack and regain some semblance of dignity. "magician," he muttered. "what makes you think i'm a magician?"

rhudy hesitated, reevaluating. aiden hated him. "you're… you smell like magic. harsh, like fire, or an overheating computer." he snorted, trying to keep eye contact with aiden. "do you do magic?"

aiden had come here for a guitar lesson. a fucking guitar lesson. "no," he said firmly. "i don't. do… do you?"

rhudy nodded. "you don't know about… well, suppose it doesn't matter." and before aiden can say a word, he picked up the guitar again. "anyway, let's -"

"hey, wait, you can't - you can't just dump that shit on me and then teach me guitar!" aiden spluttered, throwing up his arms. "how did you know my name wasn't -" shit. he visibly winced. rhudy just smiled, eyes twinkling.

"i know things," he said, tapping the side of his head. "that's one thing i'm good at. knowing things. clairvoyance, it's called."

clairvoyance. wow, everything made sense now.

rhudy absentmindedly plucked a tune on the guitar strings, raising an eyebrow. "so your name's not jack?"

"no," aiden admitted. he didn't say anything else.

rhudy nodded. "ok, i'm calling you antiseptic then. more badass name than fucking andrew. unless that is your name?" aiden shook his head. "ok. anyway. we'll have plenty of time to talk about magic later. for now, let's just… ok. what songs can you play?"

-

rhudy was odd. rhudy was odd, and aiden did not know how to feel about him.

over the next two weeks, he explained a bit about the magic to him. from what he said, it seemed like magic was slightly more common that aiden had thought, which worried him. surely he would have noticed, surely he would have seen at some point? he'd considered the possibility that jack's creation of his magician had something to do with it, but that seemed ridiculous. bringing to life one person with magic powers was one thing, but a whole group of people? unless… unless jack was one of them. a particularly powerful magician, maybe. ugh, it hurt to think about.

aiden didn't tell jack what he'd learned.

well, he did tell jack some of the things he'd learned. the music related things, at least. jack had commented on how much he'd improved in terms of playing, and despite himself, aiden had swelled with pride.

"thanks. i guess lessons are paying off." he grinned. jack ruffled his hair as he walked by, and aiden attempted to swat at his legs as his friend laughed.

"oh, they are. i can say this now, but you were simply terrible before, aid. completely and utterly horrendous." he smirked and disappeared into the kitchen.

aiden rolled his eyes, zipping up his guitar case and preparing to head out again. "well, that's rude."

"it's just truth!"

aiden followed jack into the kitchen and stuck out his tongue. "ok, whatever. dickwad. what are you doing today?"

jack shrugged. "dunno. i've been watching dude perfect a lot, i was legitimately thinking about attempting to fly to texas and do a collab with them." he laughed at the ridiculousness of it, evidently trying to relieve the tension of making a joke like that. he knew aiden didn't like jack's collabs. "what do you think?"

aiden rolled his eyes, grabbing his boots from the shoe rack. he knew jack was only joking. "alright then, bro average."

"hey, that's so mean!"

"oh, i'm mean? you just told me my guitar was shite!"

"your guitar was shite, past tense!"

"fuck you, i'm leaving."

jack rummaged in the fridge, pulling out a rectangular bottle. "stacy, no, don't take the kids," he joked, twisting off the cap and taking a gulp.

aiden suddenly frowned. "are you day drinking, jay? seriously?"

jack shrugged and sat down at the table, pulling out his phone and adjusting his grey snapback. "this whiskey is nice. don't worry, i wouldn't get drunk without you."

"can't get drunk with me, either, if you don't want to kill me." aiden said as he tied his boots. "are you forgetting i can't drink?"

jack started, blinking like he'd just woken up. "oh… oh, yeah," he murmured softly. "yeah."

aiden didn't move for a second. then he came round the table and hesitantly placed a hand on the back of jack's neck. "jay, are you ok? you've been acting… a bit off, lately."

jack nodded, far too quickly. "yeah, yeah, of course," he reassured. "just a… i'm fine, don't worry."

aiden didn't have time to worry anyway. he was late for his lesson. he just smiled and told jack to take care of himself as he left, half jogging down the street with his case on his back.

yes, rhudy was odd. he talked about magic ever so casually when he was around aiden, and joked with him like he was an old friend. aiden was still debating killing him. but part of him thought… maybe he liked this guy. he was interesting, definitely. and he was good at guitar. and he was nice to aiden despite how rude and snappy he was. aiden couldn't understand him.

"hey, anti!" rhudy greeted him as soon as he came into the store. he had his hair back in the tiniest ponytail, curls hanging down in front of his face. he didn't try to high five aiden, either, which showed he'd at least been paying attention to his touch aversive tendencies. "good to see you, even if it it ten minutes late." he laughed, already starting for the back of the room. aiden smiled slightly. yes, he thought he did like this guy.

there was someone waiting in the back room.

"oh, is someone in here?" said the man who was sitting on aiden's usual seat. he had spiky brown hair and a long beard, a bass guitar resting on his legs. "sorry, bros, lemme move my stuff."

aiden and rhudy waited awkwardly as the man slowly packed up his guitar, chattering all the while. "no one told me this room was being used, rhudy, apologies. i thought it was free, didn't know you did lessons in here on thursdays."

"yep, i do," rhudy interrupted. "it's ok, rory, just remember that for future."

aiden got the feeling rhudy wasn't exactly fond of this man. he shifted from foot to foot, tapping his fingers on his knife in his pocket.

rory looked up at the movement, standing up straight. "well, who's this awkward looking fellow?" he asked cheerfully, and aiden's face burned. the man flashed a grin. "name's rory. rhudy teaches me too sometimes, when i can pay him." he laughed, though no one else did. "so, you any good on guitar? can't be that great if rhudy's teaching you."

"hurry up, rory," rhudy said tiredly before aiden could do anything he wouldn't regret. "we have a lesson to have."

"naturally!" rory chuckled. he clapped aiden's shoulder, causing him to yelp and rory to laugh. "oho, calm down, i won't hurt you. a bit jumpy, are we?" he waved at rhudy as he went out, and he unwillingly waved back. "seeya, lads!"

the man had his phone in his pocket. by the time he'd left the room, aiden had gotten everything he needed. he sat down next to rhudy, shaking with rage and anxiety and disgust.

"sorry about him," rhudy said sympathetically. "he's… a lot to handle. doesn't mean any harm, really."

aiden didn't care. the second he was feeling upset enough to kill anyone again, this man was becoming his first new victim. he had his address now. fuck anything else.

but then rhudy tilted his head, looking aiden in the eyes. "can i touch your shoulder?" and just the fact that he asked touched aiden enough that he nodded, and before starting the lesson rhudy gently pat aiden's shoulder and smiled, and aiden felt strangely warm for the rest of the day.

-

everything was wrong.

everything was so painfully wrong that jack felt sick. if anyone had asked, he wouldn't have been able to tell them what the problem was, but he knew that something was so off it was making him shake and cause bile to burn his throat. he pulled his knees up to his chest on the couch and took a desperate gulp of his whiskey, hoping that maybe for a second it would burn this feeling away. it didn't. in fact, it seemed to make it worse.

he should be recording. he should be making videos. he shouldn't be shivering in his living room, curled up and drinking an expensive bottle of japanese whiskey. where was aiden? fuck, he needed aiden. he was going to throw up or pass out or something. part of him hoped for the latter if only to rip this strange horrible feeling right out of him.

no keys in the lock. no knock at the door. jack couldn't sit up to look at the couch, but he knew aiden wouldn't be back anytime soon. he let out a shuddering breath and laid sideways on the couch, his bottle falling to the floor. he didn't care. he fucking hated the taste anyway.

-

"i better go home soon," aiden said, though part of him really didn't want to. he was actually having a good time. he and rhudy had stopped playing guitar long ago - now they were just talking, or really, rhudy was talking and aiden was listening. which he was fine with, really. it was easier for both of them that way.

"aw, man," rhudy groaned exaggeratedly, slumping back dramatically in his chair. "really? come on, septic, stay here, i don't have any other lessons tonight."

aiden shook his head. part of him thought about staying, if only so he wouldn't have to go home and see jack. but he was getting tired anyway. "yeah, i should go."

rhudy made a face and stood. "ok, ok. see you tomorrow?"

aiden frowned as he slung his case onto his back. "i don't have a lesson tomorrow."

rhudy gave an embarrassed laugh and rubbed the back of his neck. "oh yeah, you don't, do you," he murmured. then he raised an eyebrow. "would you like to? maybe somewhere… not here? like… out in the park or something?"

they made their way over to the door, aiden biting his lip. "you, uh, you wanna give me a guitar lesson in a park?"

rhudy nodded eagerly. "uh, yeah. a guitar lesson, yeah. just - yeah. if you want."

aiden shrugged, feeling a grin on his face. "yeah, sure, yeah. if you want."

"if you want."

"if you want!"

and despite wondering if maybe he was missing something obvious, aiden was smiling as he left the store and walked home, feeling light and warm.

that feeling immediately dissipated the second he walked in the house.

it was freezing. the windows seemed to be all open, a cold breeze blowing the curtains out. "bloody hell," aiden muttered, slamming one shut and glancing down the hall. "jack, you up?"

there was a moment of silence before aiden heard a sound that made every hair in his body stand on end. a sharp, pained whimper, coming from what seemed to be the living room.

he bolted down the hall, shrugging off his guitar and tossing it carelessly to the ground. when he came into the room, his heart dropped. jack was curled up on the couch, shaking badly, hands over his ears and blood on his face. his eyes were squeezed tightly shut, and he didn't look up as aiden dropped to his knees beside the couch, gasping. "jack! jesus shit, jack!"

jack gave a small, pathetic cry. "no, no, leave me alone," he sobbed, drawing even further into himself. "don't touch, don't hurt, fuck off, fuck off, fuck off!"

aiden cursed, noticing an empty bottle of alcohol on the floor near the couch. "fuck, jay, how much did you have to drink?"

"barely anything, swear, i don't drink, i don't!" jack cried, trying to cover his face and ears at the same time. "leave me 'lone, go away, don't want to hurt anyone, don't want to die!"

aiden's blood ran cold. "jack. jack, what are you talking about? did someone hurt you? did something - shit, jay, did you make another video?"

"no, no, no!" jack wailed, tossing and turning wildly. blood trickled from his eyes and onto the cushions below. "i didn't, aiden, didn't do anything, please!"

aiden couldn't get another coherent sentence out of him for another four or so hours. by the time jack calmed and was able to sit up and speak properly, it was late at night and the room was dark. jack leaned his head against aiden's shoulder, breathing heavily and shakily but still breathing, still breathing. aiden didn't know what to say.

"i'm sorry," were the first words jack said when he could speak. "i don't know what came over me."

aiden stroked his hair, the physical contact making him shiver. "there was blood and shit," he mumbled. "like a creation. but it was - you didn't make a video."

"i didn't make a video for you either," jack said, voicing what they were both thinking.

"i… i'm different," aiden said. "and we both know it."

jack glanced over, his eyes red. "different how?"

aiden didn't want to say it. he didn't want to say anything. so he didn't.

"maybe you have some kind of epilepsy too," he eventually said. "and that's why you have those…seizures."

jack snorted. "seizures that make me bleed from the eyes and create magic clones of myself?"

aiden smacked his chin into his knees. "well, you didn't make any magic clones this time." he sounded more like he was trying to convince himself. "you just drank too much, that's all."

"drank one bottle of whiskey and bled like a demon," jack said under his breath, and aiden pretended not to hear him.

they spent the night watching voyager and eventually fell asleep, jack on aiden's legs and aiden slumped over the arm of the couch.

-

aiden left early the next day.

"who are you texting?" jack teased as he walked past aiden in the kitchen. they had wordlessly agreed to put the events of last night behind them until they had to face them. "and why-y do you have your guitar with you? you don't have a lesson."

aiden flipped him off without looking up. "because fuck you, that's why."

jack frowned. "be careful, aid."

he glanced up, relaxing and shooting a small smile. "when am i not careful, jack?" he furrowed his brow. "don't answer that."

after aiden had left, jack decided to go out shopping. it was early on a saturday, and there were a lot of families with kids and such, who jack carefully avoided as much as he could. he stopped in the sweets aisle, pondering buying aiden some black liquorice. he hadn't been spending a lot of time with him lately, and figured maybe he'd appreciate it. he was just throwing a bag into his basket when someone small bumped into his legs.

he jumped, turning round quickly to face whoever it was. a young girl, no older than six, with brown hair in a ponytail and a puffy pink jacket. "papa, connor's being mean!" she whined, not letting go of his legs. "i wanted to get the tangfastics, but he said he wanted them, but i asked first, papa! i asked first, i called bagsy!"

jack was stunned into silence for a second. "uh," he eventually managed. "uh, kid, i'm not your… your papa."

the girl looked up, bright blue eyes sparkling. "you're silly!" she grinned, then taking a step back. "lift me up, i lost connor and wanna see him over all the people!"

jack was just about to start panicking when someone came through the crowd, tapping the girl on the head. "lou-ise, did you -" he started, then he and jack both looked up and froze.

jack's first thought was - "aiden?" he said, confused. "what are you…"

but no, this wasn't aiden. but the man was jack's exact twin in every seemingly possible way. messy, yellow-green hair, a short brown beard, bright blue eyes, wearing a grey snapback and black leather jacket. he was staring at jack blankly, eyes wide and mouth hanging slightly open. jack stared right back, mind absolutely racing.

his first instinct was to run. what if this was jackieboy man or the magnificent magician, the ones who had hurt aiden? but before he could do anything, before he could race down the aisle as quickly as he could, the girl next to him spoke. "you're not my papa!" she said, skipping over to her other man and the tiny blonde boy that jack assumed was her brother. she grabbed her papa's hand and both kids joined their father in staring at jack in awe.

"holy sh- my god," the man said after a moment, sounding just like jack but with an american accent. "you look - wow, that's so unbelievably weird. you are… you're like my exact twin. and i found you in an asda. what - what the hell?" he broke into a grin, laughing at the ridiculousness of it. "are you my long lost brother or something?"

jack made several noises, struggling to speak actual words. "i… uh…" he snorted, putting his hands in his jacket pockets. "yeah, this is… weird."

"he even sounds like you, papa!" the boy cried, stepping forwards slightly. he made a face at jack, his sister giggling. their dad shook his head before letting go of his daughter's hand and stretching it out towards jack.

"sorry, uh, my name's chase," he said, still grinning. jack shook his hand, suddenly very aware of how many people were in here watching this go down. "chase brody. it's, uh, nice to meet you, even under these odd circumstances, ha."

jack forced a grin. he didn't recognize the name at all. he couldn't be the doctor either, then, the doctor was german and his name wasn't brody, it had been… schneeplestein? "my name's jack," he said. "yeah, wow. nice to - to meet you, yeah."

there were several seconds of awkward silence after that, until the girl spoke again. "are you our uncle?" she asked. "or papa's brother? why do you look like him? are you twins? do you know each other? are you his clone?"

jack laughed despite himself. "i wish i could answer any of those questions, uh…" he looked at chase questioningly.

"oh! this is louise, and my son, connor," chase introduced, tapping them both on the head in turn. "and, uh, we should probably get going, my wife will be wondering. wait a sec." he pulled a tiny notebook and pen from his pocket, scribbling something onto the paper. "i don't think this is something we can just walk away from and never think of again, so i'm gonna give you my number, maybe we can talk later." he handed the paper to jack, and he took it, both of them smiling awkwardly. "yeah. uh, good to meet you." he grabbed his children's hands again, and they both waved at jack as they turned round and started to walk off. "see you, dude!"

jack waved slowly, staring after them long after they were gone.

-

it was cold out. so cold out that no children or families were even in the park, leaving it all to aiden and rhudy. they chattered warmly as they crunched through the early september frost in the grass, making their way over to a spot in the field next to the trees and sitting on the freezing ground. rhudy had bought them food from greggs, and they ate as they talked, both guitars forgotten on their legs as they leaned against the trees. despite the chill, this was the warmest aiden had felt in a long time. it felt like easier days, like when jack and aiden had been able to get along and be friends instead of snapping and ignoring each other. it felt good. it felt happy.

this wasn't a feeling aiden was used to, but he wished he could be.

later on, they picked up their stuff and walked down on the beach. the tide was in, so they kept close to the wall, stumbling over rocks and slipping on seaweed, laughing loudly and clinging to each other. for once, aiden didn't mind the unexpected touch that he usually only accepted from jack. it felt happy. everything really did feel happy.

"come on, anti!" rhudy yelled, racing ahead of him across the rocks. aiden flipped him off, finding solid ground and taking advantage of it to run after him. he was aware of how stupid the both of them must look right now - two men in their late twenties chasing each other like children - but he suddenly didn't care. he didn't care, and he didn't know why. he was having fun. he wasn't feeling depressed, he wasn't thinking about killing himself, he was alive and it felt fucking amazing. he laughed as he tore across the rocks, almost catching up to rhudy, reaching out to grab his arm -

and slipping, falling -

"anti! anti, shit, anti!"

he groaned, bright light in front of his eyes the second he opened them. something digging into his back. sand on his hands, something sharp, his head, his head hurt - "fuck," he mumbled. he felt a pair of hands grab his, helping him sit up. "oh, oh, fuck, ow."

"anti, are you ok? shit, did you hit your head? are you bleeding? your hands are bleeding, shit," rhudy panicked. his hands were on aiden's shoulders, aiden's face. he let out a noise and leaned into the other man, his whole body aching.

rhudy ran his hands over his back. "hey, i think you're ok, i don't - i don't have a medkit, specifically, but we can go to mine and get -"

and suddenly the embarrassment of everything hit aiden all at once. what was he doing, running around like an idiot, getting so close to someone who was still mostly a stranger? he pulled back, cheeks burning in humiliation, struggling to push himself up. "i'm fine, i have to - i have to get home, my - my roommate will be worried about me."

rhudy nodded, too quickly. "oh, yeah, sure," he said. he grabbed aiden's hands again, trying to help him up, but he was suddenly just so fucking angry with everything that he pushed him off, stumbling to his feet himself. it was after he'd done that that he realized that had been a dumb idea - sand had gotten into the big cut on his hand, and it stung. he swayed on his feet, and rhudy helped steady him despite his yelp of protest.

"i'm - uh, i'm sorry you… can i walk you home?" rhudy blurted. aiden started making his way back up the beach, trying to subtly wipe sand off himself.

"i'll be fine," he mumbled. the last thing he needed was for jack to see him like this with another person.

despite that, rhudy walked him up to the gates of the park, occasionally looking at aiden like he wanted to say something but never doing so. at the gates, he stopped walking and hesitated. "anti, uh… sorry this didn't go so great. maybe next time we can go get food or something. less risk of injury." he laughed awkwardly, running his fingers through his hair. aiden eyed him suspiciously, wondering if he was mocking him.

"sure, yeah," he said, having no intention of going out with rhudy again. he'd stick with just the guitar lessons, thank you very much.

rhudy brightened, a smile spreading across his face. "cool!" he beamed. he clapped his hands together gently. "sure you don't want me to walk -"

"yes, i'm sure," aiden interrupted and left rhudy at the gate, beginning the walk back himself in silence.

jack wasn't at home.

that wasn't extremely unusual, but usually he left a note or something. aiden wandered through the house uncertainly, making sure there was really no one there, before collapsing to the couch and staring at the wall, thinking about how much of an idiot he was.

"aid-en. wakey wakey, i got you liquorice."

aiden slowly blinked, seeing a pair of bright blue eyes in front of his own. he didn't even remember falling asleep. "mm," he groaned, closing his eyes again. "thanks."

he felt a hand run through his hair, and he unwillingly let out a small, relaxed sigh. "what's up?" jack said softly. aiden heard him sink down next to him on the floor. "how were lessons with - shit, aiden, what happened to your hand?"

oh yeah. he'd forgotten. "fell," he mumbled, not bothering to elaborate. jack cursed silently.

"and you didn't disinfect it or bandage it or anything?" aiden made another sleepy "hmm" as a no. "fuck's sake. stay there, lazy bastard, i'll fix you up."

it was another quiet night for the both of them, although jack did decide to forfeit recording for a little while so as to sit with aiden, chattering and playing music loudly. and despite how his anger had faded to a soft numb burn, jack's presence was nice, and he felt slightly more alive than usual.

it was the next day that aiden noticed.

a new presence. a new electrical item in the house. that wasn't extremely unusual, but usually jack would tell him something like that, obviously knowing that aiden would recognize the change and wonder. the fact that he hadn't mentioned just made aiden more curious, and he followed the signature through the house, somehow unable to locate it exactly until late that night, when jack was recording and aiden found it in his coat pocket. a new phone. aiden hesitated, knowing he should respect jack's privacy like he'd promised and not look - but what was he doing with a whole new phone when he already had a perfectly good one?

one look. just one look. no harm could be done with just one look.

there was nothing on the phone. nothing but a text conversation to a number aiden didn't recognize.

the conversation had been initiated by jack, at two am that morning. aiden would have been asleep by then, he realized with a jolt.

hey, the message said. figured i'd message you.

the number had responded. hey there! i almost didn't think you'd text me.

who the fuck was this? a girlfriend? but why would jack have bought a whole new phone just to text her? heart racing, he kept looking.

course i did. look, i can't say much over text. can we maybe meet up again, same place we met? i want to talk to you again.

hell yeah, dude. tomorrow at twelve work for you? i gotta get the kids from school, so i can't do later than three.

sure. seeya then.

that was how the conversation ended.

ok, aiden thought. so jack was keeping secrets from him. "i can't say much over text" - hmm, wonder why that was. aiden reassembled and slumped against a wall, breathing heavily through his nose.

that fucking bastard. whoever it was he was meeting, it was someone he didn't want aiden seeing. and that was exactly why he was going to follow him and see who it was.

he thought aiden wouldn't notice if he bought a new phone? fucking idiot. it would have been easier to hide if he had just used his normal phone. did he really think aiden was stupid? he clenched his fists, biting his cheek so hard he tasted blood in his mouth. that asshole. that asshole. that fucking asshole.

by the time jack was done recording, aiden was in his room, pretending to be asleep. but in reality, he was already planning exactly what he was going to do the next day, and how he was going to tell jack what he knew.

-

"i'm going out," jack said, around eleven thirty the next day. aiden was sitting on the couch on his laptop, eating apple slices, and he barely glanced up at jack's words. "got shit to do. what are you gonna do?"

aiden shrugged, holding up a hand while he finished chewing. "can i hack into police records and find wrongly released criminals so i can kill them?" he joked once he'd finished.

jack rolled his eyes, relieved aiden hadn't questioned where he was going. "oh yeah, absolutely," he chuckled. "have fun with that, dude. seeya." the door clicked as he left and walked down the steps, putting up his umbrella to shield himself from the pouring rain.

he felt kind of bad doing this without telling aiden. truth was, he didn't want him to know about chase because he might think he was bad like that hero and magician. but even that… after leaving asda yesterday, jack had gone to the library and done some researching. the hero had been seen several times around the city, his costume constantly changing but always recognizable. he had become known as "jbm," which jack knew was short for "jackieboy man." how no one else knew what the jbm stood for, he didn't know, but what he did know was that this hero didn't seem evil. he had appeared to only do good things from what he had seen, from rescuing that girl at the beginning to saving a kid who was being hurt by his father. jack didn't understand why he'd hurt aiden like that. it didn't seem right.

he didn't want to say aiden was lying. he didn't.

but there was something more to the story that he was definitely missing.

he saw chase standing outside, a small yellow umbrella with a duck's face on it held over his head. seeing him again was strange enough - it was like seeing himself wearing a stranger's clothes - but that umbrella had to be the icing on this very weird cake. he tried to hold back a laugh as he walked up beside him. "hey, there."

chase jumped at his voice, then jumped again at his face. "christ on a bike, you scared me," he laughed, shaking his head. "i haven't gotten used to - you know." he waved his hand round his face, jack humming in agreement. "so, uh… where do you wanna go?"

jack hesitated. "you wanna go get some food? there's some places just over there, i don't mind where we go."

chase grinned. "hell yeah. you have any preferences? i'll eat anything, i don't mind."

"subway?"

"sounds like a plan."

they walked through the parking lot and crossed the street to the various restaurants across from the asda. they politely chatted the whole way there, ignoring the very obvious elephant in the room in favour of discussing chase's umbrella. "it's louise's, my daughter," he clarified with a chuckle. "i think i've lost my own one. i have gotten several strange looks, but hey, that's how it is sometimes." jack laughed, and chase held the door for him to go inside. they each ordered and sat down, preparing to finally talk.

"so," chase eventually said as they finished a casual conversation about chase's kids. "are we gonna talk about the whole… why we look identical thing?"

jack had been hoping to avoid talking about that for a while, mostly because he wasn't sure how to explain the truth without seeming insane. how do you tell someone you think you might have brought them to life? "uh, yeah. i guess. i mean… i don't really know."

"it's not even a funny "haha we look sort of similar" thing," chase said as he unwrapped his bacon and salad sandwich and took a bite. "it's like - we're literally identical. every last detail. down to the shape of, like, our eyes. and our voices are the same, just different accents." he swallowed and then puts on a very convincing irish accent. "i mean, i can do irish too."

"that is weird," jack murmured. he was starting to feel very light. "how - how did you come to be able to do such a good irish accent if you're american?"

"my family moved us to ireland when i was fifteen," he said, waving his hand in a circle. "i learned to impersonate an irish accent to fit in with my classmates, so they didn't make fun of me. dunno how it got so good." he laughed awkwardly, sipping his coke. "so we both have ties to ireland, too? damn, ok, this is getting… very weird. i think that we genuinely might be related."

jack bit into his own sandwich, at a loss for words. "uh, maybe," he said. had he really created a person with a whole backstory that he didn't even write? "yeah. yeah."

chase hesitated. "think we should do, like… a blood test or something?" he winced. "that sounded dumb. i mean, i - i told my wife about this whole thing last night and she didn't believe me, even when my kids backed me up. this is all so weird." he shook his head again and breathed out a laugh. "but, anyway! we can talk about that kinda stuff later. tell me a bit about you, i've talked about myself enough."

jack did so, avoiding all mentions of aiden and his powers, instead talking about his time in ireland and his youtube channel. surprisingly, chase told him he had a channel too. "it's called bro average," he said, picking at his sandwich and not noticing the shock on jack's face. "i do trickshot stuff, lots of athletic shit. it blew up sometime last year, i've got like two million subs. it's wild, dude, seriously!"

bro average… where had he heard those words? he knew them. he'd heard that name. fuck, but he couldn't remember where. and if it was true, this man had only been in existence for a few days. why could he remember a past, how powerful were jack's powers?

the lights flickered. chase barely noticed. jack did. he glanced up, suddenly desperately hoping it was just a coincidence.

"and you've got a gaming channel?" chase said, oblivious. "how many subs does that have? i haven't heard that name before."

"about four million," he said, face reddening as chase cheered in awe.

"holy shit! that's so cool, dude. i'll have to check it out, i'm surprised i haven't seen it." chase stirred his drink. "i think maybe we're just the same person from different lives, ha." he stilled very suddenly. "i'm joking, but also i'm really not."

the lights flickered again, much more forcibly this time. the woman preparing the sandwiches glanced up, confused.

"so… you wouldn't happen to know any other clones, would you?" chase joked, tucking a strand of hair back into his hat. "you don't seem as… surprised as you probably should be about this whole situation."

jack hesitated. "what would you say if i told you i did?"

chase raised his eyebrows and was about to say something else when he paused, looking behind him slowly. "hey, what's that… can you hear that weird buzzing noise?"

"i have to go to the bathroom," jack said immediately, standing up and nearly knocking over his drink. "be back in a sec."

he didn't even give chase time to respond. just stormed into the bathroom at the back of the restaurant and, after checking there was no one else in any of the stalls, stood in the middle of the room. "what the fuck, aiden?"

there was a loud screeching that immediately spiked jack's tinnitus, and he cried out, clamping his hands over his ears. the room sparked with colour and static, and aiden formed in front of jack, face blank.

"jesus shit, dude!" jack yelled. "what the fuck is wrong with you, are you following me?"

aiden tilted his head and crossed his arms. "you bought a whole new phone just to talk to him?" he said flatly. "and you thought i wouldn't notice? seriously? do you take me for a fucking idiot, jack mcloughlin?"

jack sighed. "i didn't -" he threw up his arms, at a loss. "aiden -"

"what were you afraid of, jack?" aiden said, very quietly. his body glitched, and his eyes melted into a solid black. "were you scared i'd be upset? scared i'd do something? scared i'd try to -" he disappeared and suddenly reformed directly in front of him, causing him to yelp and jump back. "- hurt him?"

"aiden, stop it!" jack cried disbelievingly. aiden stepped back, still glitching wildly, an amused smile on his face. "what the fuck's gotten into you?"

"you were keeping him secret." aiden deadpanned. "hiding from me. lying to me."

"because i knew you'd react like this!" jack despaired, and aiden's buzzing glitches quietened for just a second, his smirk slipping. "i knew you'd freak out and get all possessive, like you always do!"

there was no sound but the hum of static for a long moment.

"so that's how you see me, huh?" aiden eventually said. "just possessive."

jack shook his head rapidly. "aiden, fuck's sake, of course not. you're my friend!"

the smirk came back. "am i really?" the glitching suddenly picked up full force, and even the space around him began to bend around aiden. "am i? or am i just your fucking puppet, jack? here to jump when you say jump, just made to keep you from being sad and lonely?" his tone became mocking and childish at the end, and each word felt like a stab to jack's heart.

"aid-aiden, dude, of course not! what the fuck gave you that impression? i love you, you mean the goddamn world to me!"

the glitching suddenly stopped, leaving a deafening silence.

"i'm sure i do," aiden murmured, and disappeared.

jack just stared at the spot where he had been for a moment. then he splashed some water from the sinks on his face, feeling sick with dread and worry. he had never been good with confrontation, and everything aiden had said just felt… painful. the fact that he thought like that made his head spin. was he really that bad of a friend?

the word "puppet" kept echoing in his mind.

he glanced at his reflection in the mirror. he looked tired, bags under his head, hair mussed from the weather. he didn't bother trying to sort it, just left the bathroom and back into the main section of the restaurant.

chase was gone.

panic coursed through jack's body. he raced outside, swinging round the corner, only to see - his heart dropped. aiden, talking to chase as they walked quickly away from the subway.

"chase!" he called, and they both turned round, chase's eyes widening in horror as he realized. aiden broke out in a huge grin as chase jumped away from him, looking back and forth between the two of them.

"what the - what the fuck, what the fuck!" he stammered, stumbling back into a lamppost. "who - what - i don't -"

"oh, keep quiet if you've nothing good to say," aiden jeered, letting his eyes turn black. chase cried out in shock, and aiden laughed in amusement.

"aiden, get the fuck away from him," jack ordered, pushing aiden back. "this isn't a joke, aiden, stop. whatever you're mad about, don't take it out on chase."

"aw, chase!" aiden sang, rapping his knuckles on chase's head. he shrank back, terrified. "you have a name, how sweet! did you call yourself that, or did jack name you?"

"i - i - i don't know what you're talking about!" chase sobbed. his eyes flickered over to jack, who was dithering helplessly at the side, fruitlessly trying to pull aiden away. "please, leave me alone, i have a wife and kids -"

"a wife and kids!" aide crowed. he turned to jack, eyes comically wide. "you hear that, jack? he has a wife and kids!"

"aiden, stop it. come home, we can talk - i'm sorry i tried to hide this from you, ok? please, calm down, just -"

"can we talk about what the fuck is happening?" chase interrupted, looking like he was about to cry. "i don't - i don't understand, i didn't think there was more - clones, more clones, i don't get it!"

"ohhh, you didn't mention me, jack?" aiden said in an exaggerated, mocking tone, pouty lip and all. "your first creation, too?" he cackled. "why am i not surprised?"

jack covered his face, suddenly too overwhelmed to speak as chase continued panicking. "creation? jack, what - what the fuck are you on about? what have - what have you gotten me into?"

"ah. you haven't told him that either." anti turned to chase, who was trembling enormously now. "would you like me to tell you why you look so much like our jack here?"

despite it all, aiden jumped when jack put a hand on his arm. "please," he said quietly, biting his lip. "go home. or go… somewhere. or stay, if you're gonna stop being an asshole. just - stop this. please."

all the fight seemed to go out of aiden at once, and he practically deflated in front of jack's eyes. he glanced at chase, who was breathing very heavily and scrubbing at his face to try and hide the tears leaking from his eyes. he didn't say a word this time. just vanished into the air, buzzing as he disappeared.

jack and chase were left alone.

"chase," jack murmured. chase was trembling badly, shoulders shaking. "i'm sorry, i - i didn't mean - that was a lot, i'm sorry."

"what did he mean," chase said through his tears. "created?"

jack went silent.

"ok… uh," he started. a couple people walked by, and jack realized; how had no one noticed his and anti's fight? a thing to think about later, he supposed. "i… i have these… these weird abilities. aiden thinks that, maybe, it's like soul -"

"no," chase interrupted. he laughed, almost hysterically, stepping off the curb into the parking lot. "no, don't even try that shit. you're - you're insane, you're fucking insane!"

"chase, wait," jack pleaded. he cursed aiden in his mind. "please -"

chase took off running in the other direction, leaving jack standing by himself.

the worst part was, he couldn't blame him, really. he wished he too could run and never come back.

-

jack was alone all night.

and the next night.

and the night after that.

he spent the fourth night crying, out of despair, out of anger, out of sadness, out of fear. out of everything. he missed his friend so badly, so badly. but he'd ruined everything. it was all his fault. all his fucking fault.

yep, he was a terrible person.

-

aiden spent four nights away.

he spent those four nights sleeping in people's attics and such, stealing food when no one was looking and using public bathrooms in shops. he could just go home and listen to jack apologize tearfully and put all the blame on himself, which he thought would almost ne worth it - but really, he was too fucking tired. too fucking angry. he wanted to do nothing but sleep and hate himself and feel angry at everyone around him.

surprisingly, he decided to go back to the music store for his next lesson on friday. he was bored and lonely and, quite honestly, desperate for human contact. rhudy's face brightened when he saw him enter the store, and aiden hated the smile that tried to rise to his lips upon seeing him.

"septic!" rhudy cried, and without warning, threw his arms right around him. and fuck, if aiden didn't sob slightly, practically melting into the warmth. it felt fucking fantastic. he hated it. he wanted it to last forever.

"i'm sorry about the beach," rhudy mumbled into his ear. "i can see so much shit, but i didn't see - i didn't know -" he suddenly pulled away. "are you… ok?"

aiden didn't dare say a word in case he somehow burst into tears right then. rhudy took that as a sign to take his shoulder gently and pull him away from the crowd. "come round the back, you're ok, you're ok."

aiden was dimly aware that he didn't even have his guitar with him. he almost laughed at his idiocy.

"sit down. anti, are you ok? talk to me, man." rhudy opened the back room curtains, and aiden winced in the light. "you haven't been home in a while, have you?"

aiden was confused, before remembering - clairvoyance. he sighed. "no. had a fight with my - with my roommate." a shuddering breath. "i'm fine."

rhudy sat down across from him. his black hair curled round his face, stopping just above his shoulders. his brown eyes were filled with worry. "i'm sorry," he mumbled. "the other man i taught guitar to - rory - he's dead. murdered, they said. he was fucking ripped apart, they wouldn't have known it was him if it wasn't his home."

aiden forced a look of surprise onto his face. "oh, shit. rhudy, i'm sorry."

"don't be," he sighed. "it's not your fault."

aiden swallowed and looked down at the floor, nodding.

rhudy tapped his knees. "you've hurt yourself."

aiden snorted, self consciously wrapping his arms around himself. "jesus, you know a bit too much for your own good, don't you think?"

rhudy ignored him, instead gently taking one of aiden's hands and rolling up his sleeve. aiden's breath hitched at the contact, and he felt almost satisfied with how shocked rhudy looked when he saw what aiden had done. "fuck, anti, did you do this to yourself?"

not intentionally, at first. he'd just scraped his arm against the scratchy, uneven floor, then he'd liked the pain and done it again, and again. grounding himself. "why do you call me that?" aiden said, instead of answering his question.

they stared at each other in silence, rhudy still holding aiden's arm. "i don't know," rhudy eventually murmured, evidently not wanting to leave the previous topic be. "it just seemed like… your name. like it was connected to you. if - if you don't like it, i can call you something else?"

aiden considered for a moment. considered a lot of things. then he gently pulled his arm away from rhudy's and smiled up at him, an actual, genuine smile for the first time in about a week. something about that felt right. something about him felt right. suddenly, everything seemed to make sense.

"no," anti said. "i like it. i think i like it."

rhudy smiled back at him, and the world was right again.

[helisol]

ye s, well

it basically came to me like a prophet receiving a vision from an angry god. you know. like brian david gilberts video ideas but with more slow burn.

no really i wrote all this down in my phone’s note app because some nearly coherent things popped up in my head every time i was on the train or bus these last few days.

(after-actually-writing-this disclaimer/note: this is 2000 words of slightly edited rambling about Bagginshield in the Afterlife. i had to put it in a read more.)

so the gist of it

the botfa goes just as in the movie with minor details altered. like bilbo kissing thorin just before he dies which inadvertently causes a ripple in time and space that makes the valar curious of them both. you know. minor stuff.

so bilbo goes back to the shire, the war of the ring goes down, and the hobbit/elf gang sails to valinor at the end. classic stuff, not much alternating of universes here.

but here’s where things turn into the “my city now” meme because DUDE DO I HAVE A LOT OF THOUGHTS ABOUT VALINOR AND HOW THE AFTERLIFE WORKS

like, I’m sorry mister jolkien rolkien tolkien, but just putting people into a hall to await being judged like a hospital waiting room? snooze, that’s boring!

so first of all, and you can fight me on this, Yavanna Made The Hobbits And You Can’t Change My Mind.

it just makes sense for her to have been very saddened by the destruction of literally all her work on arda through melkor’s poison, so she made living, growing things that could protect themselves from harm. as opposed to the ents, by the way, which were made by Eru to protect all the other living, growing things. it was a nice gesture of Eru to make those, but not quite what Yavanna wanted or had in mind, i imagine.

as with the dwarves, Eru wasn’t all happy about the existence of another race he didn’t make but you know, whatever, ‘I’ll just let this married couple have their own kids aside from mine, it’s okay’.

so he hands both the dwarves and the hobbits independent thought and free will, but under the condition (and here is where the afterlife stuff comes into play) that Aule and Yavanna be responsible for their mortal creations after their death. meaning that both races have seperate afterlives from the halls of mandos, MEANING THAT ITS COMPLETELY FINE FOR AULE AND YAVANNA TO BE LIKE “oh look honey, these two are so very in love and remind me of us, shan’t we do something about that?”

so. they do something about that. more precisely, they rearrange their afterlife-realms so they’re next to each other and someone with enough willpower could cross through the barrier. because listen, they’re valar, they can do whatever they want just for kicks.

okay so after that tangent lets get back to the meat of the matter: gay dwarves. I know not everyone has read Sansukh, a 500k word mammoth of a fic, and I don’t really intend to copy any of det’s canon, but their version of The Halls of Mahal really inspired me. basically the dwarven afterlife is one big hunk of a mountain/underground city where they’re free to live their days until dagor dagorath doing what they do best in the company of their families and friends; like smithing, crafting, building and other JustDwarrowThings.

meanwhile the hobbit afterlife is Basically The Shire and instead of being given the materials to build things, all the hobbits who go there get to grow plants and do their gardening. they don’t have to- just like none of the dwarves have to craft stuff- since there’s always enough food for everyone, but they are just allowed to do what they do best if they so desire.

now when Bilbo arrived in the undying lands he was still Old As Hell and im sorry to put it this way, he definitely kicked the can after like, a week of living there. not really so undying, them lands, huh. anyway Bilbo bites the dust and LOOK AT THAT he’s suddenly young again, and another LOOK AT THAT he’s standing in a very comfy, but Not Quite Bag End hobbit hole that has a note hung up on the front door. you wouldn’t think gods could have handwriting but hey, again, they’re gods they can do whatever. the note just tells him that yavannah made this place special and just for Bilbo but that there’s another home waiting for him. very cryptic there, lady. he doesn’t leave at first because hey, his family is here. there’s a lot of reunions and celebrating and food because its the fucking hobbit afterlife, what else would you expect

it takes him a few days of Regular Hobbit Life in his new home to realise ‘holy shit, this is so boring’ so what does a Fool of a Took do when things get boring and there’s a note urging him to do something?

HE’S GOING ON AN ADVENTURE

so Bilbo runs through the whole not-shire, meeting all sorts of people he outlived on the way (looking at you, Lobelia), as well as some elves. because elves can definitely just waltz through all the afterlives. they can walk on top of snow, you think they wouldn’t walk around wherever they please in valinor? rip to mankind, but they’re different.

he gets to the furthest reaches of it eventually, and lo and behold, what awaits him but the view of a tall mountain, an invisible barrier and a very flustered Thorin who is at his wits end as to how Bilbo even got here.

now for thorin’s part of the story we’ll have to start after the botfa again. he basically woke up in the darkness like an episode of naked and afraid, and started talking to Aule. his maker, who loves him to bits by the way since he made thorin, just tells him he’s free to go wherever his heart takes him. again with the cryptic messages from the gods.

so thorin, still very self-loathing and bitter because of his actions right before his death, sees this as Mahal’s way of saying ‘please don’t step foot in my halls u disgusting litle creacher’, when really he just meant ‘please do some well deserved self reflecting and then come inside to be with your family, they all miss you terribly’.

after his chat with the maker thorin just spawns in right at the front gate of the mountain and he has a choice to make. go inside or stay outside. and we all know Thorin’s proclivity for drama so he basically spends LITERAL YEARS just living in self imposed solitary confinement.

oh also tiny hc here, thorin was said to have taken “any work offered to him in the towns of men”, and they showed him in a smithy, but personally I believe they meant it when they said “any kind of work”. so basically thorin is a jack of all trades, master of some. he definitely has master-level skills in certain areas though, enough to build a vaguely hobbit-hole shaped house. why is it hobbit hole shaped?

oh right, the part where Thorin is absolutely enamoured with Bilbo.

"Go back to your books and your armchair, plant your trees, watch them grow. If more of us valued food and cheer and song above hoarded gold, it would be a merrier world.”- HELLO? GAY POLICE? I’D LIKE TO REPORT A CASE OF ‘DWARF KING REALISING THAT THE HOBBIT WAY OF LIVING IS A REALLY GREAT ONE IN CONCEPT / WISHING HE COULD HAVE HAD THAT KIND OF LIFE WITH BILBO’

anyway it’s a long 80 years until Thorin does get to meet Bilbo again, and in the meantime we have one of my favorite additions to any Hobbit fanfic ever: Frerin

For the uninitiated, Frerin is Thorin’s brother. They also have a sister, Dís, but Tolkien never specified when she died and she was a bit younger than Thorin and Frerin so I reckon she’d still be alive as an old dwarf lady somewhere?

Anyway, Frerin. Oh boy. Sansukh, again, does an excellent job at turning Frerin into a character with a level of authenticity that gets real fucking close to Genuine Tolkien™, so most of my own characterisation of Frerin is based on that in Sansukh. With the important omission of the dwarves not being able to see the present/their still alive loved ones in middle earth through a magic mirror pool.

so Frerin takes it upon himself to leave the mountain in search of his brother because he really does want him back. but also because Mahal has had it with Thorin’s antics and suggests Frerin fetch him so he can finally reunite with his family. Mahal doesn’t talk to the dwarves a lot because he’s like an awkward and distant dad, but he does actually speak to them.

so Thorin is supposed to go see his family, which he does, but not immediately. it takes like, a solid year of just brotherly (and sister-sonly) companionship for him to open up about all his anxieties and regrets and THEN he goes into the mountain to cry in his mother’s lap. as you do.

however Thorin still feels like he doesn’t 100% belong with the other dwarves in there, so he frequently spends long stretches of time outside, building away at his house, thinking about Bilbo. the company goes out to visit him sometimes.

more details on the house tho, cuz it’s Important; it’s built halfway into a hill near the mountain, like a proper hobbit hole would be, but the lower levels are built into stone. look, he’s had 80 years to work on constructing this. it’s near perfect in every way for both hobbit and dwarf standards and could definitely fit the entire company and more inside.

now about the barrier. elves can pass through without a second thought because they’re shiny little bastards who just get to do all the cool stuff, but the other races can’t just hop between realms like that; they really have to muster up the willpower. which usually means they can’t do it because a drawback for both dwarves and hobbits is that they favor isolation from other races even in death, and as such don’t want to mingle with each other.

unless you’re Bilbo Badass Baggins though, who simply runs through the barrier to yell at Thorin for leaving him sad and alone for 80 years. he is that bitch.

there’s gonna be some legolas and gimli shenanigans if i can fit them in (cuz i dont know when exactly they sailed west together), possibly a mention of tauriel because bruh peter jackson did us dirty by not giving her any closure besides ‘lol i guess she’s banished from mirkwood??’ and Mairon. because. I also have some thoughts about him.

also Fili and Kili as pseudo matchmakers because every fic needs that

and did I mention there’s gonna be hozier lyrics for chapter titles

i said this was the gist of it but i somehow ended up at ~1900 words. well, more power to me.

[yehet-me-up]

Boiling Point

Pairing: Jongin x reader (female)

Genre: dude idk, soft and romantic... stripper AU?!

Rating: (M) for language and sexual themes/situations 

Word Count: 4,179

Summary: In the year you’ve been working at the Elxyion Male Revue you’ve somehow managed to not date, or anything else, with any of your incredibly hot co-workers. But then a new dancer starts who makes you break all your rules.

A/N: HAPPY BELATED BIRTHDAY/CHRISTMAS @gingersaysjump​ ILY BAE <333 😉 😉 😉

The lights on the strip dazzle you, as they always do. 

A hum of pleasure courses through you on your walk to work. In the year you’ve lived here Vegas has never failed to capture your imagination.

The city seems to rise as night falls. While the rest of the world closes its doors and falls asleep, Vegas wakes from its slumber and comes alive. 

A faint breeze blows in off the desert and teases the edges of your dress. The material brushes against your thighs, already slightly damp in the persistent heat. It impresses you the way the blazing sun from the day lingers well on into the night, mixes with alcohol and music and skin, and infuses the city with an electric pulse that doesn’t burn off until dawn. 

Something is coming, you think to yourself abruptly. You draw your lip between your teeth and work at it while you ponder what it could be. 

Call it intuition, fate, whatever you want - it’s there, and it’s always guided you. 

Whatever is coming, you’ll handle it, you tell yourself and shrug absently, releasing your lip. 

Oh how wrong you are.

The club is in full preparation mode when you arrive. Kat the bar manager waves at you before her announcer boyfriend Chanyeol resumes what appears to be a very thorough exploration of her mouth with his tongue.

A man with cat-like eyes gives you a nod, his lips pulling back into what would be a smirk on a more arrogant man. The costume manager is fitting him for a military outfit that looks downright deadly and that familiar coil of heat grows in your core as you meet Minseok’s gaze. 

You lift your hand in greeting, thankfully slipping through the curtain on the far side of the room to head into the staff lounge. He’s been flirting with you for weeks. Making eye contact every time he brought someone on stage to dance with, grinding his hips into that night’s bachelorette or birthday girl so you knew that he wasn’t just tempting you. 

He wanted you to know exactly how good it would be if you finally let him fuck you. 

For weeks he’s been letting his hand linger on your lower back when you all leave together at the end of the night. Giving you knowing looks at staff meetings. Hinting at things, but not acting on them; slowly working down your defenses. 

But for now you’ve remained strong.

There’s always a buzz around the Elyxion Male Revue on Friday nights. Big crowds. Sweat. Screaming women going insane with each new inch of skin revealed by the dancers.

But, more importantly for you, Friday nights bring excellent tips.

You lift your purse over your head and slip it in your locker. Suddenly you feel a chin press to your shoulder. 

‘Are you ready to die, my friend?’ says the cheerful voice. 

Turning you raise a brow at your friend Sarah, you fight a smile as she gives you her giddy I know something you don’t know look.

‘What?’ 

‘Oh come on, ask me,’ she teases, humming.

‘You know I’m not going to ask, so you might as well just tell me,’ you deadpan, pulling your apron from your locker.

‘Ugh, fine. Ruin my fun,’ she says, dropping the charade. ‘Or maybe I won’t tell you, and I’ll get to watch you melt with no warning.’

‘Are you talking about the new military number?’ you ask. ‘Old news. I saw Min being fitted when I came in. Plus, did you forget I work on Sundays when they practice their new routines?’

She makes a sound like a buzzer. ‘Nope. Try again.’

You turn and fold your arms, leveling her with your most serious stare and finally she relents.

‘Oh fine. You’re lucky I love you,’ she says, stepping closer. Something about the mischievous twinkle in her eyes causes the forewarning in the pit of your stomach to come alive again. 

‘There’s a new dancer starting,’ she says nonchalantly. 

Your brows pull together. ‘Okay... and? We get new dancers all the time, how is that news?’

‘Remember that show we watched last month? That dance competition we binged?’

‘I remember you turning it into a drinking game and almost passing out halfway through the first episode.’

She rolls her eyes and laughs. ‘Yes. That one. Well, I have it on news from a secret source that your favorite dancer just accepted a job here and will be here tomorrow to watch the show.’

Images flood your mind - a downright sinful expression on an angelic face. Hip thrusts revealing swaths of tanned, sweat-covered skin. An artistry of movement that somehow stirred both your heart and your desire. 

A groan falls from your lips. ‘Oh, shit.’

Sarah’s eyes light up and she gives you finger guns. ‘There it is!’

‘Kim Jongin is going to be dancing here?’ you ask, desperate to seek clarification.

‘You got it, babe,’ she says, pulling her hair back into a low ponytail and turning to leave. ‘Get ready to burn.’

For a moment you watch her weave through the crowd of dancers, assistants, servers, and bartenders and feel your life tilt off balance.

‘Helloooo ladieeees and welcome to Elyxion, the number one male revue on the strip, out-thrusting Chippendale’s and Thunder From Down Under six nights a week. Are you ready to get this party started?’ Chanyeol’s voice booms over the speakers and the packed crowd goes wild. 

You chuckle to yourself and bend down to take a woman’s drink order over the ecstatic screams of the crowd. 

The sound of a fire alarm goes off through the room and you quickly write down the drink and move toward the bar. 

‘Uh oh, ladies. I think there might be…’ Chanyeol’s joyful voice strings along the crowd, playing perfectly to the mix of fantasy and reality they came here for. 

He walks across the stage, lifting his hand to his ear. ‘A FIRE IN THE BUILDING.’

The lights in the room drop just as you come to stand next to Kat at the bar. The two of you share an amused look and turn to watch the first performance. 

Minseok always starts the show with the first solo - a firefighter number. Something about his combination of devastatingly hotness and his warm and reassuring presence sets the tone for the evening. 

You discreetly deliver drinks to the tables during his dance.

His stare practically bores a hole in the back of your head and you know he’s hoping you’ll make eye contact. It’s a game you both enjoy playing, but there’s something missing tonight. 

For some reason when you finally relent, as you always do, and watch him essentially dry hump the bachelorette on stage to Nelly’s ‘Hot in Herre’ you don’t feel the same electricity you once did.

With a confused shake of your head you carry on with the evening, laughing with the bar staff and other waiters, dancing along to the music when you can’t resist, and wondering what it is about the mere mention of Jongin that threw you off your groove.

The mid-afternoon line in Starbucks drags, sapping your energy. You step from foot to foot, eyeing the man at the front of the line who is placing what appears to be a million orders at once. 

All you want is caffeine, but apparently Saturday is going to put you through hell to get it. After a long Friday night and with another wild night ahead of you, Saturdays always feel like three days in one. 

With a sigh you raise your hand and begin to work your thumb into a kink in your neck. A buzzing in your pocket draws your attention. You pull out your phone and glance at the text on the screen. 

Sarah 2:15pm dead woman walking

Sarah 2:15pm hope you’re ready for tonight ;)

Y/N 2:16pm you stop that now

Sarah 2:16pm nope, can’t make me

Sarah 2:16pm muahahahaha

You laugh to yourself and slide the phone back in the pocket of your dress. 

Finally the man of a million orders moves to the side and the line moves forward. 

The heat in Vegas is an insistent, unrelenting beast. It tugs at your hair, plays along the line of your neck, trails down your spine, refusing to let you find relief. If the club wasn’t air conditioned you’d be willing to bet women of all ages would literally pass out from the combination of masculine sexuality and heat in the air. 

It’s especially hot in this goddamn Starbucks because the constant crush of bodies refuses to let the door stay closed and do its job of keeping this place cool. 

A group of teenagers brushes past you. One of the boys reaches around to tickle the girl next to him and she jolts in surprise, crashing into you and throwing you backward - directly into the person behind you.

Strong hands wrap around your body, keeping you upright.

‘Shit, I’m so sorry,’ the girl says, reaching out a hand in your direction.

You wave her off with a smile. ‘No harm, no foul. It’s crowded as hell in here.’

She looks relieved and the hoard of youths finally departs, leaving you to turn and thank your rescuer. 

Only years of customer service jobs and a practiced ability to control your reactions keeps you from dropping your mouth in shock. 

The man behind you is none other than Kim Jongin himself, even more handsome in person in low slung jeans and a plain black button-up shirt. He finally removes his fingers from their hold on your upper arms and instantly you want to ask him to put them back.

‘Are you all right?’ he asks, low voice cascading across your skin. 

You shake your head to clear it and give him a warm smile. ‘Yes, thanks to you.’

He laughs. ‘No problem. I’m not used to Starbucks’ being so crowded, but then again I’ve never visited one in Vegas.’

‘I know, right? Vegas is a universe unto itself. No normal rules apply.’

The line slides forward and you take a few steps up before turning back to him. When you do you see that he’s nonchalantly taking a look at your tanned legs showed to perfection by the skirt you’re wearing.

Oh, so that’s how it’s going to be, you think, lips twitching in amusement.

‘See something you like?’ 

He lifts his eyes to meet yours. Were he another man he might look apologetic, chastised, or maybe make a pass at you, a bold statement claiming you as his own possession to admire. 

But he surprises you.

‘Sorry, that was rude of me - checking you out before I even ask your name.’ 

A boyish smile graces his lips accompanied by the seductive lift of one brow. A heat that has nothing to do with the high temperatures outside sweeps through you. 

Warning bells go through your mind. Your commitment to not date people you work with. A hard-learned lesson not to be swept up by men who seem too good to be true rushes to your consciousness.

But unfortunately, or fortunately, depending on how you look at things, you’ve never been one to heed warnings. 

The moment stretches on, neither of you breaking eye contact. There’s something in his irises, playing around his expression you can’t place. An attraction, sure. Playfulness, definitely. You decide to call it purity, someone who is exactly who he presents himself to be - no bullshit or facade, a rarity in Vegas.

You are well and truly fucked. And he didn’t even have to take your clothes off.

‘Well. Are you going to ask?’ you say, giving him your best flirtatious smile.

His brows crease adorably. ‘Ask what?’

The line moves forward and you’re finally to the register. Delight courses through you. Leaning forward you pause a few inches from his ear, looking at him through your lashes. ‘My name.’

He laughs, a bright warm sound, as unrestrained and un-self-conscious as the rest of him while you place your order. 

When you step aside he’s got his phone out, holding it up to you with your name saved, making you laugh. Damn, you’d given your name to the barista. 

‘How about a number to go with the name?’ 

Your lips pull back into a lopsided smirk. ‘I don’t think you’ll need it.’

He looks confused again. Somehow, your drink is already ready, the barista at the end of the bar calling your name. 

‘I work at Elyxion,’ you say, joy and mischief infusing your words. 

He chuckles, looking down at his feet. Another man might have asked questions, been off-put by the clear disparity of information between the two of you. But once again he surprises you, merely lifting a shoulder and turning to place his order. 

‘I’ll see tonight.’

‘See you there... Jongin,’ you draw out the syllable, earning another laugh from him as you weave your way outside through the crowd.

The buzz in the club is even higher than normal when you arrive. Something about Jongin’s upcoming appearance has pushed everyone to operate at an even higher level. Costume staff, servers, even some of the strippers themselves - all seem to be trying extra hard tonight. 

You laugh to yourself as you get ready, already surrendered to whatever the night will bring. 

When you show up to the pre-opening staff huddle you find Jongin easily, his silver hair shining even in the low light of the prep room. When he sees you he gives you a wink before turning to listen to your general manager Junmyeon give the rundown for the show tonight.

He introduces Jongin and everyone welcomes him, the words passing through your mind without your notice. You’re far too distracted by the low cut shirt he’s wearing as you shamelessly check him out.

He catches you watching and smothers a laugh, raising an eyebrow as if to say fair is fair. 

You mouth ‘at least I know your name’ to him and his eyes crinkle at the corner as he tries not to laugh.

The huddle breaks up and Junmyeon claps a hand on Jongin’s shoulder, steering him backstage to watch the show. 

Unfortunately you only catch glimpses of him throughout the night as you serve drinks. He watches the routines with focus, mimicking the moves subtly in almost real time. 

You find him like a homing beacon every time you serve on the far side of the room. And every time you walk back to the bar you run your hand along your neck, simultaneously cursing and thanking God for bringing this man into your orbit. 

Sunday is everyone’s Friday, blessedly. A final show to close out the week and then a long day off on Mondays for everyone to rest and recover. 

After two full days of weekend high the building is always nice and empty when you arrive for your shift. Sunday afternoons you and Kat do all the weekly tasks like inventory and ordering and bookkeeping in between yawning and drowning yourselves in coffee. 

Jongin arrives just after two in an obscenely arousing pair of gray sweatpants and a black tank top. He waves to you and Kat while chatting with some of the other performers before heading onstage. 

You do your best to not watch his rehearsal, avoiding the way you can see every line of his body as he practices the choreography. 

‘Those goddamn hip thrusts,’ you mutter, glancing away as if he’s the sun, too bright and hot to look at without being burned in some way.

‘What was that?’ Kat asks, but the look on her face lets you know that she’s aware of not only what you said, but also what you meant. 

You stick your tongue out at her and kneel down to intently count the glassware behind the bar. 

‘That’s what I thought.’

After the last of the group numbers is through a DJ Khaled song starts, low and dangerous, and you feel it in your gut that this is the song they’ve chosen for Jongin’s solo dance. 

‘Fuck,’ you sigh.

‘He’s dancing right now isn’t he,’ you ask with a wince, looking up at Kat. 

She’s got her arms folded, leaning back against the bar. She tilts her head and whistles. ‘He sure is, my friend.’

‘Double fuck,’ you laugh to yourself. 

‘You really should be watching this.’

‘Nope. No. Definitely not,’ you say decisively. ‘No dating people I work with. Or anything else for that matter, no matter how sweet and charming and incredible at dancing they are.’

She laughs. ‘Honey, I think you might want to make an exception.’

You narrow your eyes at her and go back to counting, standing and turning your back on the stage to work on the liquors.

‘You know that works better when you practice on a real person!’ Kat calls out, startling you.

‘What are you doing?!’

When you turn you see Sehun the choreographer rolling his eyes in amusement and Jongin on the floor, raised up on his arms smiling at you.

Kat gives you a satisfied grin. ‘Trust me.’

Jongin stands, resting his hands on his hips. Even from this distance you can see his chest rise and fall with his breathing, the sweat that shines on his chest and arms. 

He stares you down, raising that damn brow in challenge. ‘Are you volunteering?’

She practically shoves you forward, taking the inventory list from your hands. ‘Yes, she is.’

You curse under your breath and smooth your hair behind your ears while you walk. Just what you need, to burn alive with lust while half your co-workers watch. 

‘Hold You Down’ starts over again, the bass from the speakers thrumming through your veins. 

In all the months you’ve worked here you could count on one hand the number of times you’ve been on stage. And you knew decidedly how many times you’ve been on stage in this context - none. 

From here the bright lights of the stage make it hard to see the rest of the room, or even backstage. The spotlights create a bubble that exists only for you and Jongin. You assume the position on the chair set up at center stage, bracing your hands and grasping the edges of the chair for dear life.

With his eyes fixed on yours he moves in time to the beat, drawing his lip into his mouth and biting down as he takes off his shirt with aching slowness. 

Once it’s free he steps up to you, bringing his face a breath from yours. He bends down, running his hands up your thighs to grasp your hips. You almost whine at how goddamn good he looks staring up at you, his head inches from where you want him the most, if you’re honest with yourself. 

In one fluid motion he cups your thighs and lifts you onto his shoulders, your legs over him and your crotch directly in his face. You scream and laugh, grasping the back of his head in your hands to avoid falling. He gives you a wink that only you can see and your shake your head in amusement.

The chorus kicks in, fast and sensual, and he shifts you, spinning you into a bridal style hold. 

He moves again, laying you on the floor before tearing off his pants and crawling over you, a hungry look on his face that makes you clench your thighs together. 

You’re so captivated by his expression you hardly see what he’s doing with his body. But oh, how you feel it. 

His thighs press against yours as he grinds himself into you, balancing the line all male dancers have to between giving the lucky chosen woman what she wants but maintaining enough professional distance to avoid coming on too strong.

Too bad, I want you closer you think, surprising yourself. 

He finally finishes and helps you up. From the way he’s breathing heavily and watching you, you know he was thinking the same thing. He thanks you and you walk back to the bar as best as you can without passing out.

‘So, how was it?’ Kat asks.

‘I’m going to need a cold shower as soon as I get home,’ you sigh. ‘Or more  batteries for my vibrator.’

Kat laughs, clapping you on the shoulder. ‘Or you could just fuck him. The man is umm literally drooling on you.’

You lift your eyes skyward, praying for divine assitance.

It goes on like this for days.

Lunches at the taco joint down the street, laughing about tales from your previous jobs and his wild career. Dancing together when the group goes out after work to hit the strip on Thursday night. 

Flirting with Jongin is a dangerous game you can’t help but play. 

Perhaps its resisting fate, stubbornly refusing to acknowledge the feeling in your chest when he brushes your hair behind your ear one night. 

Or perhaps it’s logic, warning you away from what could be disastrous for your sanity. For life as you know it. Watching him grind on other women on stage makes jealousy and possession rise in your chest like a hungry wolf, in a way it never did for Minseok. 

It disturbs you how fast this man has blotted out the rest of your life, and you can’t figure out how to feel about it.

Sunday arrives and once again you watch Jongin dance, feeling like you might combust at any moment from a combination of lust and need and … something decidedly softer. 

You take a break as lunch arrives and head to the back room to check your phone. You turn while scrolling through instagram, bumping into a solid form. 

This time when Jongin’s arms keep you upright you’re inches from his face. The smell of his cologne and his sweat, the devilish smile on his lips, makes you almost whine out loud. 

‘Hey,’ you start with a laugh, but you can’t bring yourself to move. 

‘Hey,’ he repeats with a smirk.

Blessedly the back room is empty. You can hear Minseok and Chanyeol laughing distantly and you know they’re entertaining the group while everyone eats. Leaving the two of you all alone back here, for better or worse.

In the silence he lifts his hands to cradle your jaw, his thumbs sweeping across your cheeks. With a sigh you finally succumb to this thing between you, resting your face against his hand and closing your eyes.

‘I love what we have right now, but I don’t just want to flirt with you,’ he says softly. ‘And I’m not just trying to sleep with you, I want more.’

Once again he surprises you with his guilelessness, speaking the truth with no hint of shame. He waits until you open your eyes to continue.

‘I want you to be mine. Will you let me take you for dinner tomorrow?’

Your heart feels like it turns into liquid butter. You shrug and say, ‘Okay.’ 

‘Okay?’ he asks, confusion once again turning his face boyish and adorable. 

You laugh and drop your hands to hold onto his hips. ‘Okay.’

You nod. Simple as that. Perhaps you knew the day you met him that this is where things would lead. Or maybe it’s just that Vegas magic. Either way, you’ll take it. 

He smiles in response, wrapping his arms around you, pulling your face into his neck and sighing in satisfaction.

A moment later he pulls back, cupping your neck with his hand and pressing his lips to yours without waiting any longer. He kisses softer than you’d expect from his dancing. Steadily working his mouth against yours until you relax and soften in his arms. 

You move your hands to his neck, tangling them in his hair and gently tugging on his lower lip. He grins against you, sliding his tongue along the seam of your lips seeking entrance. 

His hands slide down your sides, trailing heat in their wake, heading for your hips. You moan into his mouth as his strong hands slip under the edge of your shirt and caress the skin of your lower back.

The two of you kiss for what feels like days in the quiet, dark back room. Days could have passed and you wouldn’t have even noticed. Eventually he pulls back and gives you a grin.

After a beat you speak. ‘Okay, but could we do both the sex and the relationship, I’m about to die from how badly I want you.’

He laughs against your hair, a low sound that surrounds you. Pulling his head back he meets your gaze, heat evident in his expression. 

Slowly he presses you against the wall, his arousal clearly evident against your thigh. 

‘Come with me,’ he says with a suggestive raise of his brows, clasping your hand in his. 

‘More than happy to,’ you quip, earning you another laugh from him as he leads you into one of the changing rooms.

[elizabethtarington]

The Broken Pieces

Pairing: Male Human x Ace Male Incubus Warning:SFW (Angst, Depression, Mention of Death and Past Abuse) Word Count: 4328 Note: OkCryptid Collab Prompt from @thetravelerwrites. Here’s my humble contribution. I had an idea in my ‘idea book’ for a while and was happy to knock this out as a combo piece. I really wanted to create something like this and I’m pretty pleased with how it turned out. I hope y’all enjoy! Ao3 Version | My Website Version 

“Alright, bud. Your profile is all set up.”

Mason poked his head out from the kitchen to give Jeremy, longtime friend and class of 2011 survivor, a quizzical frown, “What profile?”

Jeremy shook his head at Mason “I’ll give you three guesses. It’s been two years since you broke up with Maria. What kind of profile do you think it is?”

Mason went back to putting popcorn in the microwave, frowning slightly at the rotating bag of kernels. While it popped, he leaned against the doorway and watched Jeremy. The man with his furrowed brow was finger deep in some dating app as he swiped his finger across the screen. Mason knew his friend meant well, but he wasn’t sure he was ready for this kind of thing.

“I’m not sure the dating scene is my thing. It’s been the same song and dance. I meet some gal or guy and I end up dating them and then they hurt me and leave a pile of ash behind—I’m just not interested.”

“I totally respect that you don’t want to date, but you should at least get out there. Maybe meet new people.”

Mason sighed, “Is this because you’re leaving next month and you’re worried about me?”

Glancing up from the phone Jeremy met Mason’s gaze, “Can you blame me? You don’t really have anyone else, Mason. Maria kind of made sure of that.”

Mason was the first to break eye contact as pain flared up in his chest. Maria. Everything about her still caused bitterness and regret to burn in his veins and bile to well up in his throat. What had been so fun in the beginning had become toxic and abusive. A dull throb started in his head as he began thinking about it.

“That she did.”

There was a silence between the two friends. An understanding of the damage combined with a quiet desperation to fix it.

“I’m not going to pressure you, Mason—but I can’t help but worry that you’re going to disappear into yourself.”

Mason was worried too. He was worried that he was never going to be able to connect with a person ever again and that Jeremy really was his last and only friend. It was enough to make Mason outstretch his hand for his phone.

“Alright, explain this thing to me.”

A hopeful grin spread across Jeremy’s face as he shot up from the couch and practically danced into the kitchen beside Mason. Glancing away from the popcorn, Mason raised an eyebrow as he looked down at the dating app.

“OkCryptid? Seriously, dude?”

“What? You never thought about going on a date with a different creature? Are you speciesist?” Jeremy teased, playfully cocking his hand onto his hip.

“That’s not it, I guess I just never really thought about dating someone that wasn’t a human.”

“Well, time to get your feet wet my friend, maybe literally.”

Mason inwardly winced at his friends over-exuberance as he began showing Mason how to use the app. It seemed easy enough to navigate, but Mason didn’t want to look at it any longer once the microwave alerted him that the popcorn was ready. The monster dating app was definitely a far second to horrible movie night and snacks.

After the movie, Jeremy went home and Mason began flipping through profiles on the app and cringed repeatedly. Mason himself wouldn’t be bragging about his profile. Jeremy had chosen a picture he had snapped while Mason was driving. But the worst part about it was what Jeremy had written on his behalf. While the self-summary was spot on, Mason was a florist that liked to garden in his spare time, or play video games and movie nights, it was how Jeremy had made him sound like a quirky weirdo.

I love plants so much that I can tell you what each individual flower means and how to arrange them in a perfect bouquet for when I meet your parents.

“Jeremy, you asshole,” Mason muttered as he edited his description, removing that line completely.

He tweaked it seven times and reread it only to find he’d gone from random freak to completely uninteresting. If he were trying to find someone to date and they had this profile description it would be a pass for Mason. With that thought, Mason got ready for bed, fighting the feeling of oncoming depression and the stinging sensation of tears. As his head hit the pillow he hoped sleep would give him a moment of peace.

For three weeks, the app stayed on Mason’s phone, forgotten until a notification beeped while Mason was at work. He almost ignored it as he began trimming up some calla lilies for a wedding bouquet that needed to be finished by the end of the week.

“You got pinged, Mason.” Came a small voice from a pot of soil on Mason’s workbench.

Mason glanced at the alraune, Delpha. She was a small floral creature, that could easily be mistaken for a sunflower with a small face. She had come into his store, nearly getting stepped on in the process, to ask for a job. It had been a couple of years since then, but Mason had accommodated her in many ways so that she could walk from table to table, helping the plants grow and stay healthy with her magic.

Now she was helping him grow a new kind of flower hybrid that would be special to only his store. She was carefully placing seeds into the soil with her as sparkling green magic spread from her leafy hands, “I guess there’s no harm in checking it.”

Swiping the phone on, Mason stared down at the app’s notification with surprise. Someone had messaged him. Not just any someone, an incubus someone.

“What is it, Mason?”

A sudden onset of dry mouth caused Mason to struggle as he opened the app to look at the message and the incubus in question, “It’s a message from someone on the dating app my friend installed.”

“Oh? Which app? I’m partial to Monstr myself. I once went on a date with a mandrake root and you would not believe the night we had together.”  Delpha jumped out of the pot, scattering dirt across the table as she moved to look at Mason’s phone. “Ohh! OkCryptid! Mason, I didn’t know you swung our way, towards us otherworldly creatures.”

“I-uh, I’ve always thought about it but then I met Maria and—”

Mason cut himself off, he didn’t want to discuss personal stuff with Delpha. Not about Maria at least. This incubus, however, was a different story.

His name was Vylixar but went by Vyl. He looked like a Vyl, Mason decided looking at the imposing creature. Mason had met several incubi and succubi over the years and their appearances weren’t exactly what most humans would consider the epitome of beauty. They often had scale-like skin with little horns protruding from their shoulders and elbows, but they came in a variety of colors. Vyl was a deep mauve with large spikes. His horns on his head looked sharp and pointed, curling from his head down to his pointed ears. In his profile picture was him revealing sharp fangs with what Mason assumed was a friendly smile on his short snout.

Mason turned the phone so Delpha could see, “What do you think?”

“Oh, he looks big and strong, although you might want to be careful, incubi often like to feast on energy.”

“I’ve heard of it, but never really educated myself on it.”  Mason pulled his phone back to look at what Vyl had messaged. “Is it sexual energy? I don’t really have any of that right now.”

“It can be. I’ve heard that it feels good for humans when they feast on you. It can get addictive.”

It had been a while since Mason had felt good in any respects. Every day felt like he was just struggling to hold on to what little he had left. Maybe this is a risk he should take.

Quickly glancing over the text, Mason wrote back his response, double and triple checking his words trying to not sound like an idiot. He hesitated to hit the send button but finally pressed send after rereading his message one more time. After he did so he put his phone down, anxiously waiting to hear back as he went back to preparing the wedding bouquet.

Another notification made Mason’s phone beep as he was about to wrap and pin the ribbon onto the bouquet.

“Would you like to have dinner with me?”

Mason could feel his palms start to sweat, but his reply was instant ‘Yes’. ‘Vyl is typing’ quickly turned into another message back asking if tonight would work for him. Mason was astonished at how much Vyl wanted to meet him. Despite himself, Mason was getting excited, the sooner he met Vyl, the better.

He messaged back that he was available and no sooner had he sent the message did Vyl respond with a date and time. Confusion at the location made Mason raise his eyebrow. It was a bakery just down the street from where Mason worked, he had even been there to help with a cake order that required several rose heads that a bride had specifically wanted. Had Mason already met Vyl before? He didn’t recognize him at all.

After work was finished, Mason headed home to clean himself up a bit and put on a button up shirt that he always liked. Maria hated it. It was blue plaid that made Mason look like a lanky roadie is what she had said, usually wrinkling her nose in disgust. She would then suggest a plain and professional button-up shirt.

“Fuck her,” Mason growled, buttoning the shirt up a little more fiercely. “I look good.”

Mason had finished inspecting himself before he was out the door and arrived at the bakery. Vyl had said 7:30 but as Mason stood outside the bakery he frowned up at the closed sign. The bakery had already closed and had been for nearly an hour. Mason was ready to believe that he got tricked when he saw a hulking incubus with large clawed feet walk towards the door.

He unlocked it and smiled, his yellow glowing eyes looked Mason up and down as he opened the door, “Mason?”

“Uh—yeah. That’s me.”

“Hi, please come in.” Vyl moved to the side, keeping the door wide as Mason shuffled into the bakery. “Sorry, I was running a little bit late with the cleanup in the bakery and preparing dinner. I hope you don’t mind.”

Mason glanced back to see Vyl locking up before he walked past him into the back, “Come on back, I’m just starting to finish up cooking.”

Uncertain and a little concerned, Mason gave pause at the situation. Vyl owned the bakery? And was cooking dinner for Mason?

“Uh, Vyl?” Mason asked wandering into the back to see an expansive setup. Several tables were placed throughout the expansive space, where little fairies were sprinkling sugar on cookies while others were turning cakes as they were being decorated with colorful icing and decadent chocolate.

“Don’t mind the sugar plum fairies, they do a lot of the work at night. We won’t be eating down here though, my little flat is just above the shop.”

Mason continued to follow behind, taking one last peek at the fairies and the massive kitchen. It had several silver machines that Mason assumed were for mixing and preparing the pastries and cakes. He also had never seen sugar plum fairies before and was fascinated at how they seemed to really enjoy rolling out fondant together.

Up a set of spiral stairs, Mason finally followed Vyl up to a different floor that had a large red door propped open. The enticing scent of food made Mason’s stomach growl loudly enough that Vyl glanced back and chuckle.

“Feeling hungry?”

“I am, actually.”

“Good, I’m glad you brought your appetite. I should have asked beforehand, but are you allergic to anything?”

“Uh, no. I’ll pretty much eat everything. My friend says my stomach is made out of lead.”

Vyl smirked, “Well, my cooking isn’t atrocious, so hopefully you won’t have to put that theory to the test.”

Vyl opened the door again, ushering Mason forward into the flat. It was spacious and well decorated much to Mason’s surprise. He didn’t know what to expect but he certainly didn’t think Vyl’s place would be so homey. Vinyl records decorated the walls, mixed in was some jazz posters in thick black frames. A flat-screen was bolted into the wall above a small white painted fireplace and sitting across from it was a couch with two other chairs surrounding a glass coffee table.

“Can I get you a glass of wine or maybe a beer?”

“I won’t say no to a beer.” Mason nodded as he took off his shoes before he followed Vyl into the kitchen.

The kitchen was similar to the one in the bakery, stainless steel appliances that were polished and cleaned to a pristine shine like no one had been using them. He watched as Vyl opened the fridge and pulled out a beer and popped the cap off easily before handing it to Mason. With his nerves starting to make him want to bail, Mason gratefully took the beer and took a sip, surprised at how smooth the dark liquor went down.

“Wow, what is this?”

“Ah, that is a St. Bernardus Abt 12. It’s good right?”

“It really is, I don’t think I’ve tasted anything like this before.”

“Well, don’t drink that one down too fast, it’s got a high alcohol content and on an empty stomach that beer will go straight to your head.”

Vyl smiled at his comment as he washed his hands. His hands quickly found their way to a blade as he began to chop some vegetables and throwing them into a large bowl with some leafy greens.

“Can I help with anything?”

“No thank you, I should be fine. But if you don’t mind, I could use the company.”

Mason nodded, “Sure thing.”

Silence had filled the air with only Vyl’s chopping to compensate for it before Mason took one more swig of beer before trying to talk, “So, do you own the bakery? I’ve actually worked with you guys before for that rose cake for a wedding about a year ago.”

“Oh! Are you the gentleman from the flower store down the street?”

“Yes, actually.”

“Well, fancy that. I had no idea. I’m usually in the back downstairs making the cakes.” Vyl stopped as the smile that had appeared, faded quickly. “My late partner used to deal with the customers so you probably saw him.”

Mason’s eyes went wide as he watched the large incubus pause as he threw the remaining vegetables into the bowl before turning to wash the cutting board in the sink.

“Your late partner.” Mason murmured as he tried to remember the person he met. A picture of a young man with long hair tied into a long braid came to mind. He had glasses and a soft kind smile as he had greeted Mason and discussed business with. Lucas. That was his name. “Lucas.”

“Yes. Lucas. My wonderful partner.”

“When did he pass?” Mason asked, carefully watching Vyl as he walked to the oven to check on a large roast.

“It was a year ago—on this day actually. A heart attack of all things. The man was fit as a fiddle, yet his heart had a blockage.” Vyl stared intently at the roast, sticking it with a thermometer, “I hope you don’t mind—it’s just that I really needed someone tonight. I needed to feel like this place was a home again with a cooked meal and with someone to share it with.”

Vyl paused, “I’m sorry if you’re disappointed or you were hoping for something more than just a meal.”

“No. No. Vyl, don’t apologize.” Mason’s brow furrowed, his heart ached for the incubus in front of him. He understood the pain and he understood the need for companionship even if it meant this wasn’t actually a date. Whatever preconceived ideas Mason had about Vyl feeding on him just so he could feel good was gone. “I get it. I really do.”

“You do?”

Those glowing eyes turned to Mason with shock and lingering sadness as tears had been forming in the corner of his eyes.

“I do. Honestly, I’m not ready to date anyways. I got out of a bad relationship two years ago and I haven’t really been the same since. My friend Jeremy put the app on my phone because he’s worried that I don’t have any friends and he’s concerned that I’ll be lonely since he’s leaving in a week.”

Vyl let out a small breath of relief, “Lucas would have done the same which is the only reason I installed the app myself. I can hear him in the back of my mind, pushing me to move on, but it’s hard. Even harder is to find someone who would want to date me anyway.”

“Why do you think that?”

“I’m-uh, not like other incubi. I don’t really do the sex thing. Ever. I just don’t have an interest in it, I’d much rather have a companion who doesn’t mind snuggling on the couch to watch some movies or maybe will go on walks with me while we indulge in ice cream. I still need to feed occasionally, but it’s very rare for me since I’ve gone what most of my kind consider ‘vegan’. I eat human food for sustenance.”

Vyl stood up, closing the oven door, reaching for his own glass of wine as he took a sip.

“That—honestly sounds what I want right now.” Mason shuffled from side to side, inwardly admiring Vyl’s bravery for being honest with him, all while feeling a little guilty that he had come here without thinking that perhaps Vyl was a person and not an object to magically make Mason happy. He didn’t want sex, but he wanted to feel good. He wanted to feel happy again. “I don’t have much interest in anyone sexually either. Not after my ex. Honestly, I just feel—”

Mason stopped himself. There he was, bringing up that woman again.

“Did you want to talk about it? I mean, I’m a stranger or a potential friend, should we enjoy each other’s company—but sometimes talking to a stranger about your problems is easier than talking to your friends. I’m less involved in what happened.”

Taking a deep swig from the bottle, Mason struggled until it spilled out, “I’ve always been a bit more reclusive than most people, so I figured dating someone who was the opposite of me would help me to come out of my shell a bit more. Maria was my opposite. In every way. She wasn’t very good for me and really enjoyed hurting me by putting me down. Near the end of our relationship, I questioned whether it was just in my head or maybe I was emotionally fragile and just sensitive. Maybe I was just not good enough for her. But what broke everything was when I found out that she had been cheating—as if the verbal abuse wasn’t enough. I really wasn’t enough for her. She even blamed me when I confronted her about it. It was—bad. ”

Another profound silence settled between them as Mason did his best to keep his eyes on the floor. He was struggling to reign it all in.

“Oh—Mason.” Vyl said softly. “Can I give you a hug?”

Mason nodded immediately as he felt the welling of emotions inside of him. She had cut him up into tiny pieces and he just didn’t know how to put himself back together again. For a moment as Vyl wrapped his arms around Mason, he felt as if he might just be able to do it. He might become whole again, one day.

Unexpected tears and sniffles began to plague Vyl as he held Mason tightly. It only made Mason respond in kind, burying his face into Vyl’s chest to hide his own tears. They both stood in that kitchen, clinging for their own reason to continue on as the fresh home cooked meal reminded them of care and warmth. Tonight it was enough to share a meal together. It was enough to share each others company.

They pulled apart, both quickly wiping their own tears away before Vyl laughed, “Look at us. What a horrible meeting this is.”

Mason sniffed, letting out a chuckle, “No, it’s actually pretty great.”

“I’m sorry that she hurt you so deeply.”

“Yeah, me too.” Mason nodded, “Honestly, I’m pretty sure I should go see a therapist. This kind of baggage is heavy and I don’t want to burden anyone with it.”

“That’s understandable and probably the healthiest solution.” Vyl turned to open the oven and check the roast once more, “Ah, I believe that dinner is ready.”

“Great, I think all the crying made me hungrier than I was before.”

Vyl laughed, “Crying can be good for the soul, but I can relate. I think I’m hungry after I blubber—at the very least, I’m thirsty.”

Mason felt a wave of relief as he watched Vyl grab two sets of plates, handing one to Mason before setting the other one down. He picked up a carving knife and fork, cutting large slices of steaming roast and plopping two onto Mason’s plate.

His mouth watered as he stared at the hot beef, his stomach also letting out a resounding grumble of approval, “Wow, this looks delicious. Where did you learn to cook or bake?”

“I went to a culinary school a long time ago. Since we incubi have long lives, I’ve been in and out of school for centuries, picking up new things and recreating the old.”

Vyl handed Mason cutlery as he ushered him into the dining room across from the living room. The table was small with four chairs and four placemats already set on the surface. Mason had wondered if perhaps Vyl was the one who placed the little vase of fake flowers in the middle or if it was Lucas.

Setting down his plate, Vyl walked to the kitchen, coming back with the bowl of salad and several dressings pressed to his chest before he set them all down.

“I didn’t even think about how long you live. So, have you been vegan for long then?”

“Yes, actually. I just never enjoyed it like others of my kind did. So, I just didn’t do it. Occasionally the mood strikes where I wouldn’t mind feeding on a person, but it’s very rare. Because of that, I learned to cook and get nutrition from food. It only made sense to learn to cook or bake to earn money while I eat to survive.”

“Makes sense to me.” Mason smiled, cutting into his roast before taking the first bite.

It was glorious as the savory flavor hit Mason’s taste buds, “Wow. This is really good.”

Vyl’s smile grew large as he watched as Mason began cutting up his food more to get another piece into his mouth, “I’m glad—Lucas definitely appreciated my cooking as well.”

“Was this his favorite meal?”

“It was.” Vyl paused, “I’m sorry, I just feel really guilty about this ‘date’. Like I’m using you.”

“Well, join the club. I feel like an ass because I originally came here thinking that I might feel good if you fed off me. “

Vyl let out a hearty laugh, “A date where both parties were looking to ease their own pain and suffering by using the other. How romantic. This could only lead to good things.”

“From the looks of it, we might become ‘cry buddies’.”

“Cry buddies,” Vyl chuckled again, “I like it. It really brings out a softer side.”

Dinner had turned into a late gabfest with Vyl showing Mason how to make a cupcake with buttercream icing. They talked about everything from their past relationships, to video games, books, and movies. Mason even was pleased to discover that Vyl was interested in incorporating more real flowers into his baking displays. They had a lot in common and when the evening drew to a close they exchanged numbers before Vyl showed Mason out of the bakery with a box of cookies and their cupcake creations.

“I really enjoyed tonight. It’s not what I thought it would be.” Mason spoke first, pausing at the door as Vyl unlocked and opened it.

“I did too. I’m probably as surprised as you are.”

A silent pause descended on Mason as he stared down at the box in hand before meeting Vyl’s gaze, “I know I sound like a broken record, but I’m not ready to date. I’m still not really in a healthy place where I should be dating, but I want to see you again as a friend. Is that okay?”

Vyl nodded, a small smile toying at the corners of his snout, “I would like that very much, Mason. Do you think we could meet up on Sunday? I could show you how to make cookies.”

Vyl ruffled Mason’s hair playfully as Mason felt relief flood through his body.

“I’d like that.”

“Cool. I’ll text you later then. Have a good night and please get home safely.”

Mason nodded as he stepped outside, “I will—oh and Vyl?”

“Yeah?” Vyl paused before closing the door.

“Thank you. Truly.”

“Thank you too, Mason.”

Mason began walking away with goodies in hand as he heard Vyl lock up. He felt lighter than he had in a while and decided to text Jeremy about how his evening went. He ended the message with a quick note that he was going to be just fine. For the first time, Mason knew it to be true.

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Also if anyone wanted to use this for the collab, feel free. It’s super dorky, but I spliced it together with this person’s creation from Pixabay. 

[hale-of-stiles-heart]

idk whether you'd want like, lois lane-esque stiles or not to go with superman!derek but what about an au where derek flirts with stiles by "saving" him from everyday mishaps ??? if you hate that i can send another lmao c:

Sorry it took so long! And sorry if it’s a little rushed! (also on ao3!)

Being Superman meant that Derek was almost constantly saving people. Whether it was rescuing a family from a burning building or fighting one of his superpowered enemies, he was saving people.

At this point, it was simple habit to help people, something that had been ingrained in him since childhood. Growing up in a small town, in the midst of a tight-knit farming community, he had quickly learned the importance of helping others.

Throughout grade school, he had always been the first one to volunteer to help his teachers with everything from cleaning the chalkboard after a lesson to passing out papers to other students. It had earned him the moniker of teacher's pet, which he had heard other students whisper behind his back, not that he had cared much.

He had made a concerted effort to make friends with new kids who transferred in to school, offering to sit with them at lunch or show them around so they wouldn't get lost. He had even made it a habit to share his lunch with students who couldn't afford to buy school lunch and didn't have enough food at home to spare for a bagged lunch.

In high school, he had organized food drives and baking sales, doing everything in his power to help in whatever way he could. And when he bought his first car, a beat-up old Chevy pickup that wasn't much to look at but was his, he had taken it upon himself to offer rides to school whenever it rained so others didn't have to get soaked while waiting for the bus.

His almost compulsive habit of helping continued throughout college where he had founded more than a few student organizations that offered support for marginalized students and acting as the designated driver for dozens of parties he never would have attended otherwise. And it had never gone away.

Which is why when Derek started developing a rather embarrassing crush on one of his co-workers at the Daily Planet, he immediately fell back on his only method of flirting: saving him.

Stiles Stilinski was the Planet's newest hire, a fact checker slash reporter who was almost worryingly unafraid in the field. He had a penchant for getting himself into trouble no matter where he was, like the time that he had wound up as a witness to bank robbery while cashing his first paycheck from the Planet.

He had also stumbled upon a local chop shop in the city when he brought his precious Jeep in for an oil change only two months into his stay in the city. He had written a scathing expose about the business that had earned him a few death threats and had made Derek go on constant alert.

But Stiles hadn't been the slightest bit worried which only made Derek worry even more. And start his own personal brand of flirting which mostly consisted of 'saving' Stiles from everyday mishaps.

It started with simple things, ones that no one in their right mind would construe as flirting. He would inform Stiles when his shoelaces were untied, saving the extraordinarily clumsy reporter from tripping over his own feet and braining himself on the edge of his desk.

Stiles had just rolled his eyes and continued on his way to Mr. White's office. Of course, Stiles had ended up tripping and nearly smacked his head against the wall as he let out a shocked, high pitched cry.

It may have been an abuse of his powers and his mother probably wouldn't have approved but less than a second later, Derek had been at Stiles' side, righting him with a hand on his elbow. Stiles had brushed off Derek's concern with another eye roll as he bent to tie his shoes, though his cheeks were decidedly more red than before.

Another time, while leaving the office for the night, he had ended up walking to the parking garage with Stiles who was too engrossed in typing something on his phone to notice the steep drop off of the curb. Before Stiles could tumble off the sidewalk and break his ankle or worse, Derek had darted to his side, setting a guiding hand on the small of Stiles' back as he warned, "Watch your step."

Stiles had thanked him with a bright grin, making an offhand comment about the game on his phone he was playing, something about a Poochyena or something of that ilk. Derek never pretended to be very pop culture savvy.

A few weeks after the curb incident, Stiles was goofing off at his desk as he proofread his latest article about the local police department's annual charity ball, rocking back in his swivel chair. While grumbling about how much his eyes hurt from the hours of editing he had been putting in, he had leaned back much too far in his chair.

Before he could fumble backwards, bringing the chair with him, Derek, who had been walking by on his way back to his own desk, caught the back of his chair. Steadying the chair, he smirked at Stiles who gaped up at him, upside down, brown eyes wide.

"Careful," Derek had teased as he set the chair upright, the momentum rocking Stiles a bit. He couldn't resist puffing out his chest when Stiles' flushed a blotchy red to match his flannel shirt.

"My hero," Stiles had quipped, flashing Derek a bright grin as he turned back to his computer, nimble fingers flying over the keys. Derek had continued on his way to his desk with an extra spring in his step.

Things went on like that for quite some time. Stiles would do something reckless and clumsy and come dangerously close to bodily harm and Derek would swoop in like a white knight and save him from embarrassment and head contusions.

The pattern continued for weeks until Erica, one of the Planet's best photographers, decided to throw an impromptu office party. Derek wasn't even sure what exactly the point of the party was but he would have to be a fool to miss out on the champagne cupcakes Erica baked for every special event.

Apparently, neither could Stiles.

Though it was technically Stiles' day off, Derek heard the hum of his Jeep's engine as he approached the office building. As Stiles drew closer, Derek could hear the familiar pattern of his heartbeat, rabbit fast from caffeine and Stiles' jog into the building.

Stiles was in his usual state of dishevelment, wearing a dark blue flannel over a heather gray t-shirt and a pair of black jeans, his hair a complete mess. He had a paper cup of coffee from his favorite café in his hand, the scent of vanilla and caramel filling the room when he entered.

"Who's getting married?" Stiles asked as he made his way over to the table of various desserts where Derek was lingering, taking a break from editing his most recent article. His eyes flitted over the array of treats, from Erica's perfectly frosted cupcakes to the delicate chocolate cream puffs Boyd had bought from a nearby bakery.

Derek laughed into his own cup of coffee as Stiles licked his chops like a hungry puppy. Handing Stiles a paper plate to let him gorge himself to his heart's content, he asked, "Why do you think someone's getting married?"

"There's free food at work," Stiles pointed out, loading up his plate with as many cupcakes and mini eclairs as he possibly could. He glanced up at Derek as he popped a cream puff into his mouth, chewing with his mouth open in an oddly endearing way as he explained, "And not the shitty donuts that creep Daehler usually brings in. Must be a special occasion."

"Good point," Derek agreed, reaching over to grab an eclair from Stiles' plate. It earned him an affronted cry from Stiles who reached over to swat Derek on the arm.

"But no one's getting married," Derek informed him, taking a bite of his stolen eclair. Stiles shrugged, still loading up his plate with as much food as he could carry. "Erica just wanted to throw a party."

"Sounds like her," Stiles commented, raising his cup of coffee to his lips to take a sip. And because Stiles was quite literally the clumsiest person that Derek had ever met, the simple act of drinking coffee turned into a fiasco when he tipped the cup back too much and nearly spilled it all over himself.

Luckily, Derek was there to reach out and right Stiles' coffee cup before he could scald himself. But where Derek would have expected gratitude or a bit of embarrassment, as per usual, he only found suspicion as Stiles squinted at him.

"What are you doing?" Stiles asked, his voice low, curling up at the end. He narrowed his eyes a bit more as he gave Derek a quick once-over, pressing his lips together in a thin line.

"What do you mean?" Derek stammered, trying to appear as innocent as possible. He pushed his glasses further up his nose, Stiles following the movement with a raised brow.

"I mean," Stiles started, setting his plate of treats down on the table so he could point an accusing finger at Derek, "You keep doing stuff like that. The sidewalk, the chair, my shoelaces. What is this? Some kind of white knight syndrome or are you just flirting with me?"

Derek nearly swallowed his own tongue. He could feel his cheeks flush with heat, sure that he was turning bright red, his capillaries traitorous little bastards.

He shoved his free hand into his pocket, trying to look as casual as he could. But if Stiles was the clumsiest person ever, Derek was the most awkward.

Stiles clearly agreed as his eyes widened with realization as he stared at Derek, his jaw actually dropping like he were an animated character. Still pointing at Derek, he squeaked, "Dude, really?!"

Fully aware that he had never been very good at lying to Stiles --- save for the whole secret identity slash superpowered alien thing --- Derek just sighed. Chewing his bottom lip, he nodded, bracing himself for the inevitable rejection.

"That's awesome!" Stiles announced, breaking Derek out of his insecure little stupor. A wide smile had replaced his slack-jawed expression, his entire face lit up like the sun.

And like the sun, it made Derek feel utterly invincible. Invincible enough to swallow his hesitation and shove his awkwardness aside enough for him to ask, "So, uh, do you maybe wanna go out sometime?"

"Sometime?" Stiles echoed, tilting his head to the side like a floppy-eared puppy. Meeting Derek's eyes, Stiles smiled almost coyly and suggested, "What about right now?"

Derek beamed back at him, enthusiastically agreeing, "I think that sounds super."

[loving-jack-kelly]

Psych AU

Jack

Is Shawn, obviously

Cop dad, troublemaker because he liked disrupting his dad’s authority, actually very smart but does his absolute best to avoid people knowing it

His dad figured out he had a photographic memory when they were like, watching a movie, and Jack called out a mistake that nobody believed was real until he rewound and showed them, and then trained him to be super observant

His dad really wanted him to be a cop and Jack refused out of principle

Never held a job for long because as soon as something else caught his eye he’d go for it

Usually squeaked by on stretching pay from a job for forever, living in a tiny apartment, and doing art commissions when he could get them

Is really good at reading people from what his dad taught him

A Chaotic Good in its purest form, he’s always trying to help people but gets in his own way with his antics

Davey

Is Gus

Jack’s best friend while they were growing up

Was very respectful of authority and balanced Jack out, until Jack got him in on his schemes and then they were the terror of every adult in town

Pharmaceutical salesman, knows so many medicines off the top of his head

Drive a Blueberry and Jack makes fun of it but actually loves the car

Lawful Good, always obey the rules unless Jack makes him do otherwise, has a hard time lying

Spot

Lassiter, obviously he’s Lassie guys

Head detective, very put together and capable

Solves cases all the time and hates that Jack also solves cases all the time

Acts high and mighty but really does care about everyone

Crutchie

Juliet, Crutchie is Jules

Shows up and Jack is instantly like oh boy that crush hit me over the head with the velocity of a 747

He’s a transfer detective who’s worked his whole life to get where he is despite being an amputee and having a prosthetic

Jack acts like his crush is a joke but means it 100%

Crutchie is very capable and kicks ass and hates being underestimated because it’s almost kept him from achieving his dream before

When he was first trying to get to be a police officer he almost wasn’t allowed into police academy because they thought his prosthetic was a hazard and it took him his entire time to convince them otherwise

Now he won’t let anything get in the way of his being the best detective he can be

At first Jack bothers him because he had to work so hard to get where he is and Jack just shows up and starts solving crimes without seemingly a second thought, but Jack grows on him

Katherine

Chief Vick

Is technically the interim chief but she’ll death glare anyone who calls her that because she deserves to be full chief and everyone knows it

Very skeptical of Jack and thus Davey but they are efficient and so she lets them keep working

Jack likes calling in tips to the police when he solves a case on his own because he thinks it’s funny that he can solve crimes from his couch that the police can’t

Eventually he calls one in and they call him in, he assumes it’s for like, reward money, but actually they suspect him in the case because he was right but it sounded like insider knowledge

He doesn’t want to admit he figured it out because of his observance and memory, but they’re going to arrest him, and he noticed the front desk cop was superstitious and so on a whim claims to be a psychic

Spot, the would-be arresting officer, is like, no way, that’s fake, psychics don’t exist

But Jack uses the things he noticed while waiting to be seen to “prove” that he’s psychic and everyone kind of starts to believe him because how else did he know so much about people he’d never met before?

But then Katherine hires him as a consultant for a case that they can’t solve because she figures he can’t do much harm when they’re about to lose the case to higher ups anyway

So Jack shows up to Davey’s job and is like, dude, I have a job and you have a job with me, let’s go

To which Davey responds, no way am I doing anything with you, your last five job attempts have been disasters

But Jack convinces him eventually and soon they have an office and a private investigative business

Davey constantly threatens to tell everyone that Jack isn’t a psychic but he never would because Jack really is solving crimes and they’re best friends

Jack flirts. With literally anyone. Even when it’s entirely inappropriate. Davey does his best to keep him in check. It doesn’t really work

Jack his sister just died don’t flirt with him

Jack her best friend is missing

Jack he’s the bad guy

Jack she is literally trying to murder us stop complimenting her form

Jack he

Jack she

Jack

He’s so ridiculously bi people genuinely think he’s joking like they think he’s straight making gay jokes because of the sheer number of times he flirts with guys and girls all the time

He does his best to seem as immature as possible, but he has a pretty high emotional intelligence

For a while, Crutchie is dating a guy who’s similar to Jack, which makes Jack sad because he wants to be dating Crutchie but Crutchie has never seemed interested

Eventually Crutchie overhears Jack talking to Davey about him and Jack says that he’s willing to just be friends if that means Crutchie is happy, only he wants to be happy too, and he can’t imagine being happy without Crutchie because he’s pretty much fallen in love with him over the years they’ve gotten to work together

And then Crutchie eventually gets together with Jack, after he gets out of his other relationship

Dating Jack is essentially dating both Jack and Davey because they’re always together

It also ends up being much like babysitting sometimes, because Jack gets into all sorts of trouble and Davey only does so much to stop him before joining in

Also when Jack proposes his speech (taken directly from Shawn’s proposal bc tbh it was an incredible proposal) goes like this:

Charlie Morris, I do not believe in love at first sight, because I didn’t even need to see you to know I wanted to spend forever with you. That didn’t make any sense. Scratch that. I have spent my whole life running from one thing to another, quitting and running and quitting and running and pretending that my destiny was to drive a wienermobile.

Davey: He was young and afraid of commitment.

That’s true. But I’m not that young anymore. And I’m also not afraid. Because when I’m with you, Char, I’m just fearless and unbreakable.

Davey: Like Samuel L. Jackson.

Jack: No, Samuel L. Jackson was the glass man.

Davey: Not emotionally, Jack, not emotionally.

Jack: Okay, dude, well dial it back just a teeny bit.

Davey: *choked up* Okay.

I know that I come with baggage, and a best friend who’s not going anywhere. Ever. But I promise you that from this moment forward the only running I will be doing is into your arms, and I will never stop holding your cold little hands or losing myself when I wake up in the morning and look at you and recognize how frickin’ lucky I am.

Davey: *in the background* Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, it’s happening, say yes, say yes!

Crutchie: Yes, yes!

Jack: Okay, well technically, you just said yes to Davey.

Crutchie: Well ask me, Jack!

Crutchie, will you marry us? Me? Mostly me? Even though Davey is always gonna be part of the deal and one day he’ll have his own Crutchie and we’ll be one big family and we’ll have dogs, all rescues, and kids, probable before we’re sixty. Just marry me so I can show you how amazing our life will be together?

Davey was crying by the end of it and Crutchie said yes, obviously, please do yourself a favor and watch the scene from the real show it’s cinematic genius.

Spot meets Race and for pretty much the only time in his life opens up easily and right away

And then it turns out Race is the criminal in the case they’re working on and Spot has to arrest him but he promises to wait until Race is out of prison and they end up together anyway

Now for the true reason this au works: the quotes. The dialogue. All of these are direct quotes from the show.

Davey: You named your fake detective agency "Psych"? As in "got you"? Why didn't you just call it "Hey, we're fooling you and the police department; hope we don't make a mistake and somebody dies because of it."

Jack: First of all, Davey, that name is entirely too long; it would never fit on the window. And secondly, the best way you convince people you're not lying to them is to tell them you are!

Davey: How do you just eat when there's a dead guy laying there?

Jack: What, is that rude? Am I supposed to share?

Jack: Good morning, detectives! Are we collecting donations for the policeman's ball?

Spot: We don't have balls.

Jack: I honestly have no response to that.

Crutchie: You're not hired. I can't pay you. If it turns out there's something to it, I'll make sure you get put on the case. That's all I can do.

Jack: Crutchie, I'm quite sure we could work out some kind of services exchange. You see I like to do some sketching myself and sometimes I need a model.

Crutchie: Huh! [gets up and walks from the room]

Jack: Was that inappropriate? ...Felt OK.

Jack: Don't panic. Those bites are consistent with a T-Rex bite.

Davey: You know that?

Jack: Yes, I know that. [shows picture of himself in the mouth of a T-Rex skeleton] I was banned from the Wyoming National Museum for that shot. The bruises didn't go away for a year, but it was totally worth it. It was my best screensaver ever!

Crutchie: Jack, how do you know this?

Jack: The same way that I know that as a child Spot wanted nothing more than a pony.

[They all look at Spot]

Spot: Oh, come on. Who didn't?

Davey: Anyone who wasn't an 8 year-old girl.

Spot: I hate snow globes.

Jack: Huh. That's strange, because my psychic sense told me specifically that snow globes didn't give you nightmares of being trapped in a clear ball with snow that burned your skin off.

Spot: Who keeps telling people I like snow globes?!

Jack: I don't think anyone's here.

Davey: How sure are you?

Jack: Fairly to pretty damn.

Jack: Davey, don't be a myopic chihuahua. I have a full-proof plan that solves the case and gives the Chief all the credit.

Davey: What is it?

Jack: Actually, all I have is the phrase "I have a full-proof plan." Beyond that, I'm wide open.

And so many more these are all from like the first three seasons of eight the whole show is like this it’s incredible and I love it

[translightyagami]

Otp questions for Matsuda/Light?

dflkjskaljf;ldfsakj ALL OF THEM????? aight dude.

1: Who spends almost all their money on the other?

i don’t think either of them spends a lot of money on each other. their relationship isn’t rlly....over the table. but i think matsuda gets light presents sometimes like that sashmi phone charm or fun socks. he definitely DEFINITELY gets light something on valentines day bc he sort of hopes light will do the same but uh light has to go on his lunch break to the nearest convience store and buy some shitty chocolates bc he doesn’t want matsuda to know he forgot. except matsuda like knows, he’s just too nice and a little too into light to say anything.

2: Who sleeps in the other’s lap?

matsuda will lay his head on light’s lap while light is doing paper work. its late on a tuesday when they hv light’s apartment to themselves which almost nvr happens and he’s running his hand thru matsuda’s hair. its almost like they’re a real couple. it’s almost like light cares.

3: Who walks around the house half-naked and who yells at them to put on some clothes?

they r both way too conservative abt their bodies to walk around half naked anywhere but if matsuda spills something on his shirt he’s not gonna soak in that cold coffee. he’ll strip that shirt off and use light’s washing machine and then chill in the kitchen. light yells at him, which scares the shit out of matsuda bc light almost nvr yells at ppl if he can help it, and tells him that misa is going to b home in like an hour so he can’t b waltzing around w no shirt on. then he stops, sees matsuda’s wide eyes and his anger slinks back into it’s cage so he offers to blow him as an apology.

4: Which one tells the other not to stay up all night and which one stays up all night anyway?

matsuda is always getting on light for staying up too late. “you’re giving kira too much of your time!” he says and light just gets this ugly look on his face like he’s halfway to a laugh but also abt to melt. “how else can we bring him to justice,” he says, “if we aren’t giving up some parts of our comfort?” that shuts matsuda up.

5: Which one tries to make food for the other but burns it all by accident and which one tells them that it’s okay and makes them both cookies?

god they both suck so hard at cooking. matsuda tries to make them like romantic meals and light lets him bc he loves it when ppl do things for him ever at all. all the meals end up burnt and light tells matsuda he doesn’t mind but he rlly rlly does bc then he has to explain to misa why their apartment smells like burned chicken. they order takeout or go somewhere to eat and its rlly uncomfortable for the rest of the night.

6: Which one reads OTP prompts and says “Oh that’s us!” and which one goes “Eh, not really”?

oh for sure matsuda sees those, like, couples memes and wants desperately to send them to light and b like “ha that’s us” but he’s not sure if they count as a couple since light makes him leave immeadiately after they fuck. so instead he just sort of casually will announce that this meme makes him think of someone and light doesn’t look up from his work like “what’s a meme?”

7: Which one constantly wears the other’s clothes?

god they r like different sizes but sometimes, if light is weak and lets matsuda convince him to go to his place, light borrows a shirt from matsuda that’s too big on his all flat angles body. it hangs on him and it kind of....turns matsuda on a little?? they’re all his old college track shirts. light always returns them promptly the next day, washed and folded in a plastic bag.

8: Which one spends all day running errands and which one says “You remembered [thing], right?”

light likes to send matsuda on errands bc he knows he can and also he hates hving to do small tasks so he’ll like send him to get lunch and then when he gets back will get huffy if he forgets to bring like...enough napkins.

9: Which one drives the car and which one gives them directions?

it’s canonical in my headcanon that light is a very bad driver and matsuda actually had to help him learn so matsuda drives them most of the time. light gives surprisingly good directions for what a shit driver he is, mostly bc he has a good memory and spent a lot of time using the subway so he knows his streets. get him out in the country tho and he’s like “uhhhh turn left?? maybe right??? lets use the gps.”

10: Which one does the posing while the other one draws?

light poses and matsuda draws a shitty stick figure w a tie on. light must stiffle the urge to rip it up and it’s the greatest feat of strength he’s ever managed.

11: If they were about to rob a museum, which one does backflips through lasers and which one is strolling behind with a bag of chips?

uhhuhuhuuhhh shit man i literally hv no idea with this one!!! neither of them can do a backflip but matsuda is convinced that if given the chance, he could do one and then light and he hv that charlie and mac argument of “u can’t do a backflip” “i do a backflip every day of my life!!”

12: Which one of your OTP overdoes it on the alcohol and which one makes the other stop drinking?

literally. neither of them stops the other one. light doesn’t drink a lot but matsuda will take him out clubbing which means light gets drunk off two cocktails and half of matsuda’s rum n’ coke. he dances to ariana grande and pulls matsuda on the floor and matsuda is so flattered by the attention that he lets light get drunker until he’s swaying and they hv to take a cab back to his apartment bc he can barely stand.

13: Which one likes to surprise the other with a lot of small random gifts?

i think i said in the first question, but matsuda often leaves light little gifts.

14: Which one keeps accidentally using the other’s last name instead of their own?

dslkfjla;skdfj;aslkfj;slfa matsuda sometimes puts yagami as his last name but that’s only bc he spends so much time w that family. he’d b so pleased to marry into it honestly. its a secret dream of his to propose to light and for light to accept and it keeps him warm on nights when light won’t return his calls.

15: Which one screams about the spider and which one brings the spider outside?

neither of them take the spider outside but matsuda will just smack it w his shoe. light gets the bug spray and watches the spider die, slowly and painfully. he only ever does this when no one else is around but god, it’s a little thrill to take the edge off.

16: Which one gives the other their jacket?

matsuda forgets his jacket A Lot and so light will offer his as a token of affection (or at least as much a token as light can manage). it nvr fits but the same song and dance happens every time. matsuda wishes that light would forget his jacket once so it would b the other way around but uhhhh mr. five hundred plans at once has nvr been unprepared for bad weather. except once on a certain rooftop but like who’s keeping score?

17: Who keeps getting threatened by the other’s overprotective older sibling?

their relationship is secret so nobody. but if sayu knew, she’d hv a word or two for matsuda abt dating her wonderful brother who deserves the best boyfriend life has to offer.

18: Who’s the first one to admit they have feelings for the other?

hmm. this one is......tough. neither of them every say anything but matsuda almost does. it takes a while. it takes several times of matsuda getting up to put on his shoes and looking over his shoulder, asking if light’s sure he wants to be alone. its a lot of him “dropping by” when he knows misa isn’t home but light didn’t ask him to come over and just watching tv together. he’s like a frog in water slowly boiling until he realizes the water is too hot and he’s burning with some kinda something for light. so he works up a little courage and a little stupidity and one night, after sex, he rolls over and asks light what they are. light blinks and smiles. “we’re friends,” he says and matsuda’s heart is a brick sinking into his stomach. “oh,” he says. “okay.” he doesn’t bring it up again.

a week later, light calls one of their outings a date and the brick starts to lift.

19: How good would your OTP be at parenting?

Oh They’d B Such Shit.

20: Which one types with perfect grammar and which one types using numbers as letters?

is this.....are you trying to ask me who does 1337 speak? okay okay. u would b surprised but i think light uses a lot of text chat when he messages ppl he’s closer to. if its like a work message, its all business but if it’s like a booty call to matsuda its like “hey wyd?” matsuda texts in such.....text code....u would hv to hv one of those “what is ur teen saying” guides next to u to understand. light can’t keep up. the only time matsuda texts with perfect grammar is when he’s sexting and honestly? that is half of what drives light wild.

21: Who gets attacked by a bully and who protects them?

here’s the facts: light likes matsuda but if he saw him getting bullied or anything and protecting him meant bringing himself to literally any harm? he’d turn right around and go in a different direction. matsuda defends light constantly whenever someone says something abt him being kira. anyone got anything to say abt light yagami? matsuda is on ‘em at the drop of a hat.

22: Who makes the bad puns and who makes a pained smile every time the other makes a pun?

god matsuda makes so many puns. he’s out of control. every time he opens his mouth its light’s worst nightmare which is nice humor and fun. he’ll grit his teeth and smile but inside he’s in special dead hell which is for ppl hearing bad jokes. BUT there’s one time where light is doing something and doesn’t catch himself b4 just out loud making a pun and the grin on matsuda’s? could’ve lit up an entire stadium.

23: Who comes home from work to see that the other one bought a puppy?

if matsuda ever brought a puppy into light’s home, he’d b out on his ass in a minute. his dick game isn’t that strong.

24: Which one gives the other a piggyback ride when they’re tired?

matsuda is actually a little stronger than light, he’s like short-ish but built and frequently has to carry light home from clubs bc he can’t handle his alcohol. when he does carry him, light gets v handsy and matsuda has to like try and calm him down which is hard bc matsuda is drunk too? uhuhuh here’s something: one time when matsuda was carrying light home, light kept up this stream of conversation abt nothing and then started to make this weird, choked crying noise and matsuda was like whats wrong and light just kept saying “he’s dead” all gargled n shit. matsuda got him home and everything and light offered to hv sex with him but there was something so dead eyed abt him that matsuda was like “uhhhh i’ll just go home.” and light looked v small and matsuda knew he should probably stay, that light would b sick soon and probably vomit and he should definitely stay but he leaves anyway. he thinks abt that a lot after he shoots light. abt the way he lay there like a corpse, like he died six years ago and was haunting himself.

25: Which one competes in some sort of activity and which one does the overzealous cheering?

every once in a while light will do some intramural sports like soccer just to keep up his physique (he’s one of those ppl that like sports over like gym time) and matsuda always goes w misa under the pretense of their friendship. secretly tho he’s checking out light’s legs in shorts. light has v defined thighs.

26: Who takes a selfie when the other one falls asleep on their shoulder?

matsuda takes eight selfies every rare occasion light sleeps on him and uses the kitty ear filter on them. he only sends the snapchat to his mom, who is the only person that knows abt him and light, and keeps the photo saved on his phone. light nvr finds out abt them. matsuda’s mom snapchats him back a thumbs up.

27: Which one would give the other a makeover if they asked?

light would definitely give matsuda pointers and he actually does it, unsolicited, pretty often. if he could get a crack at matsuda’s waredrobe? god. the amount of macy’s casual wear he would shove in there. he hates matsuda’s day off clothes. worn jeans??? no thanks!!!

28: Which one owns a pet that the other is absolutely terrified of?

matsuda has a lizard named suds and light is not terrified of it, okay??? he just doesn’t like how it feels when it touches his skin and also how its eyes look and also he’s maybe a little scared of it so whatever

29: Which one holds the umbrella over both of them when it rains?

light insists on holding the umbrella bc he’s taller and likes the control but if he’s super busy and speedwalking he lets matsuda do it. also bc he likes flexing his ability to make ppl do things and it makes him feel royal to hv someone else hold his umbrella.

30: If your OTP went on vacation, where would they go and what would they do? Who would take the pictures?

well, they’d literally nvr go on vacation bc they r not in that kind of relationship BUT if they did, they’d probably just go out to the country to a bed n breakfast in the gayest fashion possible. light would use the time to read some books he bought but nvr got around to reading. matsuda attempts to write a science fiction story which he is too embarassed to show light. light hacks his computer when he’s asleep so he can read it and finds out that the love interest is just a thinly veiled version of himself so he shuts the computer and crawls in bed, blushing bc he’s flattered and bc there were a lot of alien sex scenes w his character.

matsuda takes several phone pics of light falling asleep in the car on the way to the bed n breakfast and is sorely tempted to save one as his phone background. he doesn’t but he does keep one of those pictures even after light dies. it reminds him that light was human. that somewhere there was a person in there, that he didn’t sleep with a monster.

[peacefulwriter88]

Space In Between - Part 5

Warnings: Language. None yet. Things will start cooking soon

A/N: I promise things will get to move and shake soon. Until then, slow burn. Also hoping to post more this weekend. 

Tag List:  @that-theater-techie-from-kc @sleepretreat @lancetucker @xxhuffelpuff-girlxx

“I’m conflicted.”

Alex’s voice carries in his living room, a beer nestled between his hands and Chris rolls his eyes, knowing where it’s headed. Alex had been distant ever since they had left the game, keeping a watchful eye on Chris throughout the rest of their time together. The weekend was supposed to be a fun, simple relaxing guys weekend. No talk of babies, or wives or work or anything.  Mark had flown in the night before, as he was scheduled to present to Chris’ class that Monday. They were going to go to the game, had now changed to head out to check out a comedy show. Tomorrow they were going to hit up a bar to watch a days’ worth of football together. Fun, simple and relaxing.

Until Rick had fucked everything up.

Alex had seen him with Y/N. Had started to piece things together. Had been in a weird, grumpy mood as his eyes flicked back to where you stood, cheering and drinking beers and earnestly trying to avoid looking down at him and Chris.

Fuck.

He was going to kill Rick. He was going to find the best way to get back at him.

Mark looks up from his phone and asks,

“About what?”

“Yea dude,” Rick chimes in, taking another long sip of his beer. “That’s ambiguous as fuck.”

Alex eyes flicker over to Chris, taking a long steady sip before sitting back in his seat. The other two men haven’t noticed but Chris is torn between wanting to punch Alex in the face and fall deeper into this seat. He wasn’t sober enough for this. Not right now.

“On how to deal with the elephant in the room.” His eyes flash to Chris again.

“What?” He finally voices. He was over this tennis match. If Alex wanted to clear the air and clarify what he was suspecting in his mind, then fuck it.

He was tired of having the internal battle with himself anyways.

“You know what?” Alex challenges back and Chris rolls his eyes,

“I do but it’s not a problem for me.”

“It’s not a pr – Chris do you even hear yourself?” he slams his beer down on table in front of him, throwing his hands in the air “Did your divorce also steal your common sense? Do you know how much trouble you could get not only yourself in but her? And if it was anyone else, maybe I wouldn’t give two shits of you throwing your life away. Falling down this rabbit hole of a mess while you figure out your early midlife crisis. But you’re also trying to drag someone who literally has a bright future ahead of her. That kind of selfishness I can’t tolerate.” 

His outburst has grabbed the attention of Rick and Mark, who are watching in mild curiosity and confusion.

“What the hell is going on here?” Mark asks, an aside more to Rick than the room but Alex catches it.

“Oh, you were there Rick. Hell – I’m sure you encouraged it because Chris didn’t clarify that Y/N is one of his students. In the course he’s filling in for!”

Rick spits out his beer as Mark puts down his phone. Now he had all their attention.

“Wait she’s a what?! No way…she’s gotta be another professor….or….” Rick trails off as Chris falls back in his chair, throwing an arm over his face.

Mark pitches in meekly,

 “I mean, to be fair, she doesn’t look like an under grad student….”

“She’s not!” Chris cuts him off. “She’s a graduate student.”

“Doesn’t matter. She’s one of your students. You’ve been crushing on one of your students. You’ve been flirting and taking one of your students, graduate or not, on coffee dates. Trying to pursue something more.” Alex counters and Rick chuckles, his drunken state causing the words to fumble out of his mouth,

“Hey, admits why she was teasing you. I mean, it was written all over your face the minute she walked by, swaying her hips the only way you can, your face all slack jaw and in awe but I gotta give that girl some cred. She may be totally into you but she damn well knows how to play you like a fiddle. I like her. She’d be good for you. Hell better than Beth. She gets your sense of humor and your over obsession about space.”

“Ahhhhhh, get off of it.” Chris mumbles, deciding he just wanted to fall deeper in the sofa. Deep and far away from the three idiots he called his friends.

“Is this the same girl that you’ve been pestering me about with all those questions? The question, mind you,  where we both stay up all night trying to find some answers to give because – and I quote – you wanted to make an impression on her?” he takes a swig as Chris’ face turns a tomato red. “Makes total sense. You always did have a thing for cute, intelligent women.”

“Lay. Off. Of. It.”

Rick and Mark are laughing in their tipsy state but Alex is less than amused. He stands up, his voice boisterous as he points a finger at Chris.

“Chris – I love you. Love you like a brother man. But you have to figure this out. I get it – you’re ready to move on. Ready to start a life with someone new. Date and all that shit. BUT YOU CAN’T DO IT WITH YOUR STUDENTS! Let alone her. She’s one of NASA’s finalist.”

“No shit?” Rick and Mark say at the same time and Chris moves his hands from his face, looking at Alex with serious eyes.

“Yea. Got the call in on Friday. She doesn’t know that and won’t know that until the spring but she doesn’t need grad school. Hell, NASA is willing to compensate her for all the loans she’s taking out for it. She’s naturally gifted. Kinda like you, Beck. She’s brilliant and I’ll be damned if you scathe her because you can’t keep your dick in your pants and get it wet by someone else. So heed my warning. Leave. Her. The. Fuck. Alone.”

There’s silence. Alex was a contained man. Never got too riled up about anything. Happy, sad, melancholy, mellow – his dial typically ran neutral for most emotions. But this had him upset and it had Chris conflicted.

Sober Chris could easily rationalize and move on. Alex was right. He didn’t’ know what the fuck was wrong with him. Oh wait – yea he did. Rick had hit it on the head.  The fact of the matter was, like a kid out of high school, he had only given in to going to the game because he wanted to run into you. Wanted to see what you were like outside of the classroom. Couldn’t help but drink in your body when you walked down the stairs in those jeans – damn tight jeans that should be illegal for you to wear outside the house. Couldn’t help but take in the way they hugged over every inch of your lower half as you swayed down the stairs, your hair thrown up in a loose ponytail as you laughed alongside Mara. Liked the way the shirt teased your lower abdomen and all he could imagine was what it would taste like to kiss over your soft skin as he grabbed your breast.

He was infatuated by you. It was your goddamn brain. The way you challenged him. Teased him when he got really excited about something, fumbling over sentences to make a point. The way you laughed at him naturally, hung on every word he said. And yet, there was a sassiness to you – some domineering part of you that let him know you always were in charge in life.

He wanted you. So badly. That was the problem. Wanted you more in all the ways he couldn’t. Because Alex was right. If NASA was looking at you, was looking to hire you before you finished school, this kinda thing could ruin it for you. He knew the rules. It was very clear. Normally wouldn’t challenge them.

He just liked you. Plain and simple. Enjoyed the way he felt when you were around. The way you challenged him to be someteing more. How you were the first person since the divorce who had pulled out a genuine smile from him. Could make him feel like himself – like the man he was before he had realized that him and Beth had rushed into things.

Felt like perhaps he could be doing the same with you and yet he was terrified in all the ways he as mystified. Terrified because he knew with oyu it was different. Hadn’t felt this way with Beth

Mark’s subtle chuckle breaks him of his thoughts as he says,

“Listen Chris I get it. I understand where you can see no harm in the flirting. You aren’t technically a professor here but you are faculty and you gotta play by their rules. You could let her know that you can try to pick this up once she’s graduated or you’re done teaching. Simple as that.”

Alex nods.

“Agreed. You have to. And if you can’t do it for you, then think about her. She’s about to be a part of something huge, like we were, and it would be a damned shame if you tarnish her reputation just for your own goddamn selfish reasons.”

Chris is leaning forward, his hair in his hands as Rick sits next to him, pushing him slightly.

“I get it man, Y/N is great. But maybe you get your groove back with someone else. There were so many ladies checking you out today. Gotta be easy on this campus.”

He knows all of this, knows it as he begrudgingly agrees and they head out. Knows it as he stews in his head for the rest of the weekend, non-chalantly contributing to the conversation.

Thing was, he didn’t want to try it with anyone else.

He only wanted you.