#I’m sure it must be hard for him getting to see gay couples existing happily knowing he never got that and never will

[lucky-dreamfisher]

Queer Subtext in The Illusion of Living - Part 5/5

It’s time to address the elephant in the room: Henry.

Joey tries very, very hard to ‘no homo’ his relationship with the man:

“His presence was helpful, I can happily admit, but his absence was even more so. Not having him at the studio ended up being one of the best things that could have happened to it. Of course, the funny thing is, I couldn't have not had him without having him in the first place. Just like you can't appreciate the light if you haven't spent time in the dark, so too does a person's absence become clear only if he has been around.” TIOL, page 154

“A letter from Henry. You might not think I'd keep such a thing, but I do. I have no ill will toward the man as you know. Him leaving, as I said, was the best thing that could have happened to the studio. His letter reminds me of that.” TIOL, page 218

The lady doth protest too much, methinks.

The only hint we get regarding Joey’s true feelings for Henry is the following note by Nathan:

“NateA: Joey has always been a professional person, far more so in many ways than me. That is why this section of the book is so forgiving of the man who abandoned the studio he helped create. Joey can't help but see the good in people. That being said, as a good friend of Joey's, I know that Henry's departure was a great upheaval for him and a great personal betrayal. Joey never truly forgave Henry, and I don't think he should have felt obligated to. The fact that Joey is so gracious in this part of the book is a reflection of his incredible generosity in allowing Henry Stein to be stainless in the eyes of history. I think, had he lived longer, Joey might have in later years called it his greatest illusion.” TIOL, page 155

I’m very surprised by the harshness in Nathan’s tone here. Especially since Henry appears to believe that he and Joey have parted on good terms, and Joey admits that they have continued to exchange letters for a while after Henry’s departure. We’ve also seen Henry’s note to Joey in the game, and it comes across as warm and supportive:

It really doesn’t sound like anything ugly happened between him and Joey. So then why are both Joey and Nathan convinced that Henry is a monster?

While I can believe that Joey is pathetic enough to consider anyone who slights him his worst enemy, Nathan comes across as a more level-headed person. So for him to voice his approval for Joey’s petty grudge must mean that he knows something that we don’t. But what could it be?

Honestly, nothing else comes to mind except for romantic heartbreak. It’s the only thing that could justify a man holding such a deep grudge for so many years. This isn’t Joey’s first friendship that grew apart over the years - his army friends have moved on with their life as well. It’s a normal part of life and there’s nothing in TIOL that would suggest Joey is unable to cope with that. We also know that the studio did fine for quite some time after Henry’s departure, so it’s not like Henry left Joey deep in debt. Henry wasn’t even the only animator at the studio:

“When the studio opened I surrounded him with artists of all skill levels, and the Writing Department had its own de facto leader in Mr. Hemmings, and so the whole of Creative was well managed for that first year of the company before I had to part ways with Henry.“ TIOL, page 155

And so we’re left with only one rational explanation: that Joey isn’t so much hurt by Henry leaving his job, as by the fact that Henry left specifically for the sake of his marriage.

Try as I might, I found no reference to Linda in TIOL. Even though Joey claims to have been friends with Henry for many years, he makes zero mention of ever having met Linda. While there are some hints that Henry wasn’t yet married to her at the time when he and Joey opened the studio together (such as the fact that he claims he hasn’t seen her in “days” even though he presumably slept at home, implying that he and Linda weren’t living together at the time. A shopping list among his notes in the Handbook also suggests that he cooked his own meals, which would be unusual for a married man with a demanding job), the two were already a couple by then, and must have known each other for a while already. Surely, as Henry’s friend, Joey would have met her?

Even when talking about Henry leaving, Joey uses a cryptic language:

“Henry left for his own reasons, and the correspondence between us became less and less. To be honest, it was almost like a weight off when he left. He had grown more sensitive as the studio became more successful and giving him pep talks had become exhausting for me. All the good qualities he brought, the hard work and diligence, were being undermined by a restless need for something different. Something that wasn't Bendy. I will never understand that drive. Bendy was and is perfection.“ TIOL, page 177

In DCTL Norman claims that Henry left to spend time with his wife. Why doesn’t Joey say that? It doesn’t make him look bad to admit that an employee left to enjoy a quiet family life. It’s almost like he refuses to acknowledge Linda’s existence at all. Like it’s too painful for him to speak of her.

Perhaps the “personal betrayal” that Nathan is referring to is related to Henry choosing a real family, over the “studio family”, and the possibility of having a real child, as opposed to a fictional one?

The symbolic image of Bendy as a child shows up multiple times in the game: for example the drawing from Henry appears to depict Bendy, Alice and Boris as a happy family, with Bendy holding onto their hands like a child would:

There’s also Alice using a womb imagery to describe the ink machine:

And of course, the final monologue is centered on Henry’s choice to pursue a family:

That monologue is very interesting if we assume Joey to be gay. Because a gay man would never have been able to follow Henry’s road. Gay!Joey could never choose to have a real family with a man he loved, because that option was denied to him by the homophobic society he was living in. The studio is the closest thing to a family that gay!Joey could ever hope to have. 

And evidently, that was not enough for Henry.

If Joey’s indeed gay, that must have felt incredibly unfair to him - knowing that he had no chance of happiness in marital bliss from the start, through no fault of his own. This would explain his desire to create a real, living, breathing Bendy, no matter the cost, just to prove to Henry that Joey’s “child” can be just as real as the one Linda could give him.

“Bendy was Joey's child, and he felt just as strongly about Bendy as I feel about my flesh-and-blood son.“ TIOL, page 2

This idea of an illusory choice very much resembles the choice between the Angel Path and the Devil Path in Chapter 3. It’s the only choice that Henry ever gets to make in the game, yet no matter which way he chooses, he still ends up in the same corridor. Some of the golden messages highlight his helplessness:

The symbolic meaning of the choice between the Angel and the Devil also shows up TIOL. There’s a scene in the book, where Joey writes a play about an Angel and a Devil fighting over the soul of a human man. Eventually, the Devil confesses that he doesn’t want the human to make his choice, because then one of them would have to leave. The play was supposed to end with the man making his choice, but according to Joey they lacked a third actor, so the ending was never played out.

I believe that the play is symbolic of the relationship between Henry and Joey, specifically with regards to Henry choosing a relationship with Linda over his friendship with Joey.

There are several reasons that lead me to believe this:

The human in the play making a choice between the Angel and the Devil is reminiscent of Henry choosing between Devil Path and Angel path in BATIM.

The play highlights that the Devil is on the left side of the human, while the Angel is on his right side:

“ANGEL: Spending my time with a devil has been an enlightening experience. Working with you over these years with you sitting on that left shoulder, so far and yet so near, all our debates, they were invigorating for the spirit. 

DEVIL: I won't miss you! Fighting all the time, trying to trick you into agreeing with me, trying to push you off that right shoulder of yours. The violence and the anger. I won't miss it at all!”, TIOL page 89

Much like the Devil Path is on the left side in the game, while the Angel path is on the right side:

The Devil is obviously a stand-in for Bendy. Joey even dances on the stage at one point, and one of Bendy’s nicknames is “The Dancing Demon”. Joey also claims that the Devil from the play was an inspiration for Bendy:

“Let's start with the basic idea of a cartoon.You need a main character. Someone who has adventures and who the audience relates to." I did. I needed that. I needed a character who didn't just reflect the general population back to itself, but a more exciting version. I had no interest in moralizing, besides I didn't think moralizing was particularly realistic. People don't see the world as one populated by do-gooders. I thought of the angel in my play. She could never be a lead character. The devil on the other hand…” TIOL, 165

The fact that Joey claims the ending was never played out is strongly reminiscent of the missing ending of the Tombstone Picnic

It’s possible that Joey is lying about the ending not having been played out, to hide Henry’s role in the success of the play, much like he removed his part in Tombstone Picnic. After all, what would be the point of writing a play for 3 actors, when you only have 2? Why not ask someone to play the 3rd?

Although the play itself is centered more on the relationship between the Devil and the Angel, rather than their relationship with the human, there is still a strong queer symbolism in the play:

“Abby shifted nervously next to me the whole evening. She was in a dress for the first time in a long time, white and soft. I was pleased she'd come in character. For my part the only red thing I owned was a garish bow tie, so that was all I was able to contribute visually.” TIOL, page 82

The angel is played by a woman, who usually wears men’s clothing, but of course, the Angel being a symbol of Christian values couldn’t possibly be portrayed breaking the gender norms. She had to wear a dress, though Abby is clearly uncomfortable in it. She’s essentially performing heteronormative feminity. Next to her we have Joey as the Devil, dressed in a red bow tie, which as I’ve mentioned in the first part of this analysis, used to be a symbol of homosexuality. 

This contrast between the uncomfortably heteronormative Angel and flamboyantly queer Devil is striking. It’s also very much in line with the views of the society in the 1920s. For something to be the symbol of purity and goodness, it has to be heterosexual, and the Devil is queer, because he’s also the symbol of sin.

That symbolism could be indicative of Joey’s own internalized homophobia. Back in his army days, his friends used to bully him for breaking gender norms. Joey likes to present himself as the hero, who was easily able to outsmart the bullies, but many of his later remarks in the book and in DCTL show that some of that attitude has left a deep mark on him.

The symbolism could also be intentional. Joey boasts about having personal ties to Noel Coward, a real life gay playwright, who was known for his many affairs with men, and for putting an ungodly amount of queer symbolism in his works:

“The old woman took a liking to me, and she was nice enough. Besides, her connections were incredible. She knew everyone, she even had the playwright Noel Coward come to stay with her whenever he was in town.” TIOL, page 144

There’s a lot of evidence pointing to the play being symbolic of Henry’s choice between his relationship with Linda and with Joey. But it’s also symbolic of Henry’s choice between Bendy, and a real child. The studio family, and a traditional family. Heteronormative relationship vs a queer relationship. 

Although there’s no indication in canon that Henry might be bisexual, he doesn’t need to be. The game has beaten into our heads that the “choice” is an illusion. Henry was never going to choose the Devil, or at least that’s what Joey believes. Although we’re never told what choice the human in the play was going to make, we’re told that he was supposed to be dressed in white, which suggests that he chose the Angel. 

“(The door stage right opens. A man all in white enters calmly and chooses a seat, brushes it off carefully and sits. He takes his hat off and holds it gingerly in his lap.) (Quiet.) (Curtain.) THE END” TIOL, page 91

That might be why the Devil in the play confesses that he doesn’t want the human to make his choice, fearing that one of them will have to leave once such a choice is made:

“DEVIL: You think he has made a choice? 

ANGEL: It is possible. 

DEVIL: Do you think he might be all bad? 

ANGEL: I hope he is all good. 

DEVIL: If he is all bad, my job here is done. If he is all good, you can go home. 

DEVIL: Strange. If we win we also lose. You would think that would be something I would find delightful. 

ANGEL: You would think I would love to make such a personal sacrifice.” TIOL, page 89

The line about a “personal sacrifice” is very interesting in this context. The Angel and the Devil clearly care for each other and for the human, and don’t want their relationship to come to an end. Though the Devil in the play seems to make gestures that the audience interprets as romantic in nature, Joey insists that it isn’t the case:

“I leaned in and placed a hand on Abby's knee. There was a gasp from someone in the audience, but I knew Abby wouldn't be flustered by it. That wasn't the nature of our relationship.” TIOL, page 89 

It makes me wonder if perhaps Linda and Joey used to be friends at some point, and both competed over Henry’s attention.

There’s a much overused trope in fiction where two men compete over a woman, which ends up ruining their friendship. It would be really interesting and subversive to see a man and a woman competing over a man instead.

EDIT: I can’t believe I forgot to add this part:

"Joey, thanks for coming," said Henry, approaching from behind us. I turned to look at him He had dressed up for the event but every item of clothing looked slightly wrong. The sleeves of his shirt a bit short, his vest a bit long, his tie askew. He smiled, though, with such confidence that I couldn't help admire him. I still do.” TIOL, page 160

Joey fell for Henry’s smile, how romantic!

“We watched in silence as he worked. Despite his lack of genius, to this day, I will always say that watching Henry work was a real pleasure.“ TIOL, page 173

“It's fascinating. Henry was never the showman like I was. He didn't tend to be easily remembered by those who met him when we did business. I was invariably the face of the company, the one introduced first at a gala, the one to whom people slipped their business cards.Yet in the end he ended up setting up camp in this small corner of my memory. I can't deny that he is tied to the creation of Bendy, to the creation of the studio itself. That at one time, in one small apartment, one too warm evening, we had shaken hands. That once upon a time we had been partners. He'll always be there, in the dark recesses of my mind. Always linked to me that way. Funny how the forgettable man is now forever in my mind” TIOL, page 177

[whatwouldmindykdo]

I wrote a little something about coming to terms with my sexuality and thought I’d share it here...

For as long as I can remember I’ve dreamt of my wedding day. As soon as I was able to comprehend the concept of wedding and marriage it became my only goal, my ultimate achievement: I wanted, I needed to get married. This would make me successful and prove my worthiness. I would be happy forever. And so, for years, I’d spend hours imagining the magical day: the dress, of course, and its designer, the venue, the guests, the music, the menu, the bridal party, the decor. And of course, the groom. Because it was always a groom. However, I would find it extremely difficult to imagine him. I could think of qualities I would look for in a partner, but that was it. Looking back now, I think that, more than any of these things, what I dreamt of was being loved and being in love. I was just hoping to find the kind of unconditional love I grew up surrounded by. Not a person but a feeling. An ideal. 

I grew up in what you would probably call a liberal family. My parents are very open-minded, left-wing voters and I grew up having political debates at the dinner table. But it was always about tolerance. Every love is love, they would say. Everyone deserves to be happy, they would say.

This, however, was not true for them growing up. Both my parents grew up in working class families and worked their way into the middle class. As liberal as my parents are, their own parents were rather conservative in thought. 

My father’s parents had grown up on farms. Their own parents, my great-grandparents, lived a life I cannot even begin to comprehend. After the Second World War, as life was changing everywhere, and especially in the countryside, my grandparents left for the city (well, a city, not THE city) to work in factories. They were deeply religious and my father was raised a Catholic. However, he also enjoyed great freedom. He was free to come and go, almost as he wished, to play with his brother and friends. He was free not to work in school, drop out after middle school and go on to work with his father. Which he did, for a while, until he realized he didn’t want to do that his entire life. In other words, he was free to fail, and try again. Would it had been the same thing had he been a girl? We will never know, as he was one of two boys. 

My mother, on the other hand, was not. Her grandparents had been mining workers, as almost everyone in the area. Her own parents had been saved from this life, and pushed to look for work in other industries. They had married young and my mother was the eldest of two. Her parents were heavily involved in political and union movements, pushing for workers’ rights. This gave her an awareness of the political situation and an ideal of what is achievable when you work for it. My mother, however, is also a woman. And as such, her parents expected her to behave a certain way. 

She was expected to be the perfect little girl. Calm, pretty, smiling. Not to take too much space. Do well in school. Be polite. And so my mother tried her best to be this ideal girl. She excelled in school, practiced many sports, and took it upon herself to keep the family together and happy. She eventually went on to work and had to move out to another city, but always close to family as she was sharing an apartment with her aunt. When she found another job closer to her parents, she moved back home. Eventually, she met my father. They dated for a couple of years, but moving in together was unfathomable. Not before marriage. And that’s how my parents ended up married without having ever lived together, something I honestly find quite hard to imagine. Her brother, on the other hand, lived a life closer to my dad’s. He could not roam the streets or drop out of school but he did leave high school without graduating, moving out to work away and never looked back. He introduced many girlfriends to his parents before eventually having a child and getting married, in that order. 

My parents would probably tell you that they raised me and my brother the same way. That not more was expected of me. That I could do the exact same thing he did. And to some extent that is true. We were both expected to excel in school. To be polite and respectful. We were both told we could dream of being whoever we wanted to be. But what had been instilled to my mother was also, somehow, perhaps more sneakily, taught to me. I also had to be the perfect little girl, no excuses. The one that doesn’t move. The one that doesn’t scream or make a scene. The one that helps at home. As Michelle Cliff says in Notes on Speechlessness, ‘I am reminded that a great compliment of my childhood was: ‘she’s such a quiet girl’’.

Instead of rebelling against this system I made it mine: it was my way of taking up space. My way of being remarkable. I was expected to excel at school: I was top of the class. I was expected to be calm and discreet: I would literally never speak. Even today it takes a lot for me to be able to do things I know my parents disapprove. Because I have built myself through others’ approval, and then who am I once they don’t approve? 

What does that have to do with being a lesbian, you may wonder. See, I knew about lesbians. I knew about gays. It was not entirely unknown to me. I saw them on the news, we talked about them at home. But no one in my family was gay, lesbian or part of the LGBTQI+ community, at least not openly. That was not what we did. As much as my family rebelled against capitalistic society, we were expected to conform in certain areas, and this was one. We, as a family, are heterosexuals. And so I unconsciously associated being a good girl to being heterosexual. 

I don’t remember the first time I heard of the LGBTQI+ community, nor do I remember the first time I had a crush on a girl. I am quite sure she was my primary school best friend. I very clearly remember wondering whether I was in love with her or whether that was just how you felt for your best friend (hint: I kinda knew the answer). And so, little me moved on with life. Eventually the feeling wore out, and there was a very intense and dramatic fall out. But that was it, no more questions about my sexuality. Not until I was well into my teenage years, at least. When I made it to university I had began what I would call my transformative journey, learning extensively about feminism, inclusivity and human rights. I was passionate about these subjects and wanted to learn more, and more. I surrounded myself with people who were open-minded, teaching me about these very topics, and, for some of them, part of the LGBTQI+ community. At about this time I began identifying as pansexual or bisexual. I have never been really sure about this. There was no major coming out though. I just stated here and there that I thought love was about a person and their soul, not their gender. Even though I was identifying as pansexual / bisexual, the doubt never really left. I felt ill-at-ease with the identification. Maybe I’m not into labels, I’d think. Maybe. 

Deep down, I knew. I think I’d always known. I would get major crushes on women in films and TV shows. Maybe that’s just identification. I could hardly imagine being in a relationship with a man. Maybe I just haven’t met THE one. I would feel uncomfortable whenever a man flirted with me. Maybe I’m just not into him. 

I just couldn’t imagine being a lesbian. And that’s not to say that I could fathom the very existence of lesbians. I knew they existed, I had a friend as they say. I truly believed that all love is love. What I couldn’t accept was that I was a lesbian. How could I not like men? Good girls like men. Good girls are straight. Good girls get married TO A MAN, and have children WITH A MAN. No way. I must be pansexual. Or bisexual. Not lesbian. 

Funnily enough, the pandemic was a big transitional time for me. I was able to truly connect with myself. Away from the world and the mundanities of everyday life, focusing on what really matters for the first time, I came to a realization. I do not like men. I do not find pleasure in imagining a relationship with a man. This realization was validated by experience. I signed up on a dating app (what??? I know, don’t judge). My immediate reaction was to set up my preferences to women  only (that should have been another hint right?!). However, almost immediately I changed those preferences to everyone (men and women). Why? Because, I thought, by excluding men I might miss out on the one (he’s always somewhere). What if I miss on the opportunity of happily ever after because I renounce to dating half of humanity? And oh boy did I regret that. I was instantly contacted by half the male population of my surroundings (the joys of being on a dating app) and it really felt like it was not for me. I was feeling miserable rather than happy, anxious rather than excited. I switched back to women only and I have felt safer and more myself ever since. 

I guess you could say that I have been feeling rather at peace with who I am. I have come out to a few (selected) friends, in the least dramatic way possible (well, they also are the least dramatic women I know). There remains the question, however, of coming out to family. Because although I have come to term with being a lesbian, I am still scared AF when it comes to coming out to my family and the main reason is: what if I am not lesbian after all (eye roll emoji)? The real reason, though, is that I know that as open-minded as my parents are, a coming out also means a period of adaptation, of understanding what it means exactly. And for someone like me who hates both confrontation and disappointing this feels like a big deal. Selfishly, I wish someone had been there before in my family. That I would not be the first. The trailblazer. The odd one out. The lesbian aunt. But then, I think of my little cousins. And how I could be that person for them. If I allow myself past the fear. 

Thing is, I also truly believe that I will not be able to be fully happy until I come out. I will not be truly happy until I can be who I am fully, knowing that the people who accept it are the ones who love me, for real. But what if that means losing my grandfather? What if it means that people will literally never stop talking about it? 

As much as I have talked about the hardships of coming out and coming to terms with my sexuality, I will also mention that coming to terms with this reality has been a huge relief. It has opened me to a world where love and inclusion are legion. A world where you are accepted for who you truly are. It has given me role models, values and a political awareness that I probably would not have had otherwise. In other words, being lesbian is a blessing because it is who I am, fully. And when I get to be this person, I can finally start to breathe. I can finally start to live. 

My problem lies with mainstream culture and the way it portrays lesbian relationships. I have grown up with the ability of seeing gay couples loving each other, hating each other, flirting, breaking up. Mainstream media and popular culture have very much romanticized gay relationships. What of lesbian relationships then? The reality is completely different. And how could it not be when Instagram still censored the ‘lesbians’ hashtag two weeks ago? When we only have The L Word as a reference? Where on TV and in films have lesbians been given the space and time to actually develop a relationship except in that show? And I’m not even talking about the perfect, happy relationship. Just any relationship. More than 3 minutes of screen time. You’ll have to agree that this is rather recent. 

How different would my life have been if I had seen lesbian couples on TV? How different would my life have been if people had not shied away from lesbian relationships? It is time for pop culture to be inclusive of our people. Little girls need this representation. They need to know that this kind of love exists, is normal, and brings fulfillment. I wish this had been my reality so that I wouldn’t have been mad when Casey from Atypical dumps her boyfriend to explore her relationship with Izzie. Because then perhaps I wouldn’t have been mad at her for doing that. I wouldn’t have been mad at Izzie for being honest. Because that is how deeply rooted my fear of being a lesbian was: I was mad at these two women for having the courage to explore their feelings and be true to themselves, when Casey could have had the perfect ending with Evan. And that is not ok. I need to let go of the idea that the perfect life means being in a heterosexual relationship. Because I know that this is not for me. This will not bring me fulfillment. 

[captainshyguy]

not to be a little melancholic but i've been thinking a bit about all the people that have come and gone in my general social circle like. not just irl, but online too. the close friends, who eventually left, and the ones on the outskirts, but were always there. at least, for a time. the people you never quite talked to, but were in your bubble, in your life, if just for a bit. the people who will only be icon, words on a screen to me. the people who will forever be 14 in my memories, because its all i have of them 

its just...its weird yknow? not even getting into social circles from school, friends you grew apart from, friends of friends of friends in your class that you had an odd connection with

but online its like. i’ve been in a few online communities in my time. the penguins of madagscar community on fanpop, one for the same fandom on deviantart, the agents of shield one here, then the maze runner, then star wars, then mario, then star wars again...i’d say ‘and hollow knight now’ but lets be honest, i haven’t made....many friends or even mutuals through it solely X]

i guess my point is like. all of these communities were different people. and over time, whilst i’ve generally stayed put (until i was physically the last one left, and jumped ship, like fanpop) people just. they left yknow? maybe it took a couple of months, maybe a couple of years, but they did, and its such an almost...odd thing to experience

im not saying people cant leave, not at all but it just made me think how many people i’ve known, how many i’ve been friends with, how many existed in my orbit. how many i only have pieces of. and i guess...how many people’s orbits i was in. the person i was in the past lives on through each and every one of then, and i have no idea what stuck. what’s their ‘luke’ memory, their takeway. heck, some of them wouldn't even have it by that name. 

one thing im glad about in a way is like. from each of the communities that like. meant something to me, i managed to grab a few people almost. a few that also dug their heels in, a few that are still in my orbit, however close or far, but they’re there. they’re posting actively or somewhat actively and i know where to find them. and thats nice 

it just makes me wonder sometimes yknow?? how many people currently in my circle, currently in my orbit, will eventually leave one day? who will stop posting, who’s icon i simply will never see again.

i do hope, with all my heart, that all the ones that i fell out of touch with are doing well 

(im musing about specific people under the read more, WILL get long kjdfhnd) 

from my primary/secondary school i dont have anyone exactly. the closest i have is one guy i was pretty fond of but not like. romantically. i follow his youtube and whilst i dont really watch the videos seeing his face pop up every now and again is nice. but man i do think back on those secondary school friends. funnily enough by the end whilst i liked my “official” best friends i honestly ended up more fond of others. sarah, priya, shriya, zarah, zi yu, kyle. danny, introducing me to treasure planet, hiding away with him and his friends to watch films in forgotten rooms when it was near the end of the year, then liam, of course, man..its weird he was my best friend in the first few years when i moved there, then we got put in different classes so we just didnt see eahc other much. but that fondness was always, always there. god, and jake....i wonder if he thinks back fondly to the two of us pretending to be transformers. i wonder if im still jazz to him. god, and then sophia, just, not even hanging out but having our little ‘hot buttered toast’ song. i hope thats the memory she has of me. (i haven’t even listed everyone from this part, and i couldnt! it was a 7-8 year period of my life! right during my brain developmental stages!!)

its weird i was in love with ryan for nearly three years. a lot of those memories are soured knowing one of my friends spread it around school and everyone secretly knew, (and looking back i was way out of his league like, morally lol) but still. maybe once or twice a year i’ll dream about him, and for a brief moment, im there, sitting with him in geography as he shows me magic tricks, during that period i do genuinely think he liked me too (before it wore off for him lol) and im still in love. 

from college, man....ewan was like. i have a feeling he was leading me on since he had a girlfriend lmao, and was just flirting for fun bc he saw i was shy and was trying to get me to react, but it never felt like bullying yknow? i dont think he was actively trying to make fun of me. so i dont know, it was nice, it felt nice and it still kinda does. 

khairun.....im so glad i still have her. i’m still a little gay for her. i remember sitting with her on the bus, riding for hours as we were on the geology trip, and she would ramble about the game of thrones video game and she’d squint so happily and her eyes would sparkle. she talks about dark souls now and i only see her messages, but i can still feel her enthusiasm. or tanisha and fatima, my other geology friends, my maze runner friends. seeing the scorch trials with fatima in the cinema. joking about newt and thomas with tanisha. sitting around the table with my actual friend group, in the big lounge chair reading the tolkien dictonary, joking about the flash with bindiya. sleeping around maddie’s house and playing would you rather. 

heck, i didnt even touch on teachers!!! teachers i connected with so much on a genuine level!!! mrs chambers, mr hauge, mr wrght, miss lloyd, mr hutchinson, miss petra, mrs young! mrs mohammed, mr santa maria, mr longdon, miss langley, mrs maize, miss davies. i know with teachers, the kids must start to blur together at a point. but i just....i hope, at least. with those first two, they’ll remember me, just a bit. i keep having dreams where im in my old school, and i try to find them., i’ve found mr hague a few times. but until about a month ago, whenever i got to geography, miss chambers was never there. im glad i finally found her. 

then fanpop...lexii, having the same birthday as me, talking with kait and roleyplaying as penguin ocs in high stakes situations. dating dylan fkjdngjdh, rigging the club’s presidential election. its weird, i dont have a lot of memories from this time. just....just people? people posting their ocs, people drawing ech others ocs. kaitlyn, anya, kait, dylan, lexii, imaneasel, mya, peacebaby, madascargirl, kate, starslight, imogen, tressa, sammi, crystal, cc, syliva, jasmine, hikari, amber,  yellow, steff, lilly, blue, richard, monique, sharpey, hannah, icicle, ratking, cian i- god, there was so many of us. theres more, i can think of more names. there was so many

anya did what i did pretty much and went to deviantart then kinda dug her heels in and didnt leave, though i don think she’s more active on toyhouse. and yet, i still see her art there, so its nice. having her throughout the years has been nice, watching as both of our art improves. she’s always been a bit ahead of me. then cian i’ve been talknig with pretty much every day for about 6 months now, thats been nice 

and then here, man! the agents of shield fandom! man! i dont remember a lot of names honestly besides the ones who stayed, and sam. i hope sam’s okay. y’all who stayed, who are still mutuals, the hm....five of us i think? though the one ofy’all i was closest to isnt around as often X[ but still. im happy y’all are here 

some of y’all that have been around long enoguh will know i was best friends with kacie for a while. from....i think that was my brief stint in the dan and phil fandom. she. well. she’s okay, the last i heard of her. but my overtalking screwed that up i think. my last message from her, a few years later, was amicable at least. i still feel awful about that if i think on it too hard

i think i only picked up ronan from the maze runner, at least, that i talk to, yeah, right, there’s two others that are still about but i dont think we’ve ever held a convo X] 

and u current peeps! from mario, star wars and.....im not quite sure where for some of you! i love u all! especially y’all that have been around forever, just, liking each others posts every now and again., i dont know how many people you all follow, but i follow less than a 100. i might only be a blip on your radar, but i like seeing y’all, genuinely. thank you for being in my orbit. i hope i’m a comforting or at least. nice reliable presence in yours, for as long as we all stick around.  

[iwillsithereandtrytocontribute]

Not so Villainous

Pairings: pining Anxceit, familial Anxceitmus 

Warnings: swearing, Deceit, Remus

Masterlist Ao3

This is a gift for @ollyollyoxinfree. I haven’t really interacted with you, so I hope this is something you’ll enjoy. I had a lot of fun writing it. Edit: I made this for the Spring Fling and wanted to post this here as well. Enjoy! :)

Deceit knocked on Anxiety's door hesitantly. Just because he was new, didn't mean he needed to be excluded. Besides, Remus and Wrath would only behave if they had a reason to, and a new player would definitely fit the bill. No answer. Deceit knocked again. Finally the door creaked open just a hair.

Deceit took a deep breath, uncharacteristically nervous. "We're having a game night downstairs." Nothing. "That is, would you care to join us?" The door opened a little wider. 

"You want me to play a game with you?" A timid voice asked. Deceit peered into the dark room, trying to get a better view of the much smaller side before answering. 

"Why of course not," he said smoothly.

"Oh. Okay," Anxiety answered quietly. Deceit cocked his head to the side, confused. Why was Anxiety’ voice suddenly sounding choked? The door had begun to close by the time he realized.

"No, wait!" Deceit yelled sticking his hand into the opening between the door and the frame. The door slammed into his hand, making him hiss in pain. Anxiety flung open the door immediately. 

"Oh my god! Are you okay?" Anxiety took Deceit's hand in his own. Deceit tried not to blush. He definitely wasn't thinking about how gay he was. Even as Deceit tasted the lie when it came through his head, he was preoccupied by Anxiety. "I'm so sorry," Anxiety said, shrinking into himself. "I'll just go." He took a step back towards his room. Deceit caught his hand, trying not to wince as his sore hand wrapped around Anxiety's forearm.

"Please do. I mean, I totally don't have a problem with lying. I tell the truth all the time," Deceit told Anxiety, stumbling over his words.

"Oh," Anxiety said hesitantly. "Ok."

"So you won't come?"

"Are you sure?"

Deceit sighed. He tightened his grip on Anxiety's arm and began pulling him to the stairs. Anxiety followed. "Wrath and Remus aren't waiting for us."

"They are? Maybe I shouldn't-" Anxiety began. Deceit turned to him praying that he could speak honestly for once.

"They want to meet you," Deceit said slowly and carefully. "We want to get to know you." He smiled warmly, all too aware of the fang on his left side. In hindsight he probably shouldn't have smiled, but Anxiety didn't seem to mind.

"Really?" Anxiety asked again. Deceit nodded, not trusting himself to speak. Anxiety let Deceit lead him to the stairs. "What are they like?"

"Oh, the others?" Deceit chuckled, more than a little nervous. "I've instructed them to behave."

"That's not really an answer."

Deceit didn't respond. When they reached the living room, Wrath and Remus were already fighting. 

"I want to play Monopoly!" Wrath yelled.

"Fuck you!" Remus yelled. "Monopoly can-"

Deceit cleared his throat loudly. Remus and Wrath separated. Deceit sighed. "Guys, we talked about this."

"Yes, but-" Wrath began. 

"Yes. But yes." Deceit let go of Anxiety and walked between the other two sides. "He is literally anxiety. The least you two can do is behave for an hour," Deceit whispered. He took a deep breath and smiled at Anxiety who returned it nervously. "What do you want to play Anxiety?"

"Um, I don't know," Anxiety said hesitantly. 

"Oh my god! He's so cute!" Remus squealed. "I want to eat his ears!" Anxiety took a step back, subconsciously covering his ears.

"Don't worry," Deceit chuckled. "That's how Remus shows his affection. When we first met he asked to use my unconscious body for target practice."

"Okay. I guess we could play Villainous?" Anxiety answered.

"Why would you‐" Wrath began. Deceit hissed a warning. "Choose anything else?" Wrath finished with a squeak. Anxiety smiled softly. 

"You like Disney?" Remus asked excitedly. Anxiety nodded.

"I-I think so. I've only really existed for a couple of weeks."

Remus ran up to Anxiety, grabbing his arms, and swinging him around. Anxiety's face turned white. Given Deceit's first encounter with Remus, he knew Anxiety was fearing for his life. "I love Disney! So does my brother that bit-" Deceit shot Remus a look. Remus winked at Anxiety. "But we don't need to bore ourselves talking about him? Who's your favorite villain?"

"Uh." Remus let go of Anxiety so he could speak. "I like Maleficent I guess. Cool aesthetic," Anxiety answered happily.

"Yeah, he's definitely Thomas's emo phase," Wrath whispered. He yelped when Deceit smacked his arm. Anxiety and Remus turned to look at them.

"Oh! My turn!" Remus yelled. He ran back and slapped Wrath across the face.

"Remus!" Wrath and Deceit responded in unison. Wrath glared at Remus as Deceit opened his mouth to lecture Remus, but Deceit stopped when he heard a small giggle from behind Anxiety's hand. The giggle turned into a chuckle, then into a full out laugh. And it was the most beautiful sound Deceit had ever heard. Anxiety quieted down after a minute, tears in his eyes, and breathing hard.

"Welcome to the family," Deceit said, extending his hand. Anxiety strode forward and took it. He shook it awkwardly after a moment.

"Thanks," Anxiety replied. 

"Shall we?"

They set up the game quickly, and spent the better part of an hour foiling each other's plans and laughing around the coffee table. As one might expect, Remus was by far the most animated, but as the evening wore on Deceit joined in, then Anxiety. Even Wrath begrudgingly gave an evil laugh or two.

"Good game," Anxiety said suddenly. 

"What?" Wrath screamed, leaping up from his spot on the floor. "No! How did you-" Remus matched his movements, feeling protective of the small Anxiety.

"Um. I don't know. I'm sorry." Anxiety apologized profusely. He looked down at the floor and shrunk into himself.  

"Wrath!" Deceit said sharply. 

"Oh come on, Deceit," Wrath sneered. 

"Wrath, he lost fair and square."

"Why do you care so much?" Wrath demanded.

“It’s just a game asshole,” Remus retorted. “Let. It. Go.”

“He won the first game he ever played? Bullshit!” Wrath screeched, storming out of the room.  

"Wrath!” Deceit called after him, standing up. “You get your ass back here and- and he’s gone.” He looked down at Anxiety, who by this point, was rocking back and forth with his eyes shut tightly. “Hey,” Deceit said softly, “you okay?”

Anxiety nodded furiously, rocking faster. “I’m fine,” he choked out. Remus was struck by a sudden headache. He sat down with a thud. Deceit felt it too, a searing pain in his stomach. 

“Dee, I don’t think he’s fine,” Remus said. 

“Really? I noticed,” Deceit replied sarcastically. “Anxiety, what are you doing? Can you, I know, stop this?”

Anxiety shook his head vehemently. “I- I don’t know. It’s never this bad. Never this bad.” A tear rolled down his face, swiftly followed by another. He rocked himself into exhaustion. After nearly an hour, the pain Deceit and Remus were feeling subsided. They slowly picked themselves up off of the ground. 

“Remus,” Deceit said thoughtfully, “please go give Wrath living hell.”

Remus grinned harshly. “With pleasure.” he leaned down to give Anxiety a gentle pat on the back. “You’ll take care of him right?” Deceit nodded.

“Of course not. I won’t take him to his room and meet you back here when you’ve finished.”

Remus cracked his knuckles. “Thanks for giving me permission Dee, that bastard will get what’s coming to him.”

Anxiety stirred slightly when Deceit lifted him. His eyes fluttered open as Deceit walked up the stairs holding him. He flailed suddenly, falling to the ground. “What are you doing?” Anxiety asked.

“Well, I wasn’t taking you to your room if that’s what you mean,” Deceit told him, raising his eyebrow.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean-” 

Deceit put a finger to his lips. Anxiety fell quiet. “You need to keep apologizing. Believe me Wrath was playing nice tonight, because I forced him to. He would eat you alive if given the chance.” Anxiety’s eyes widened in terror. Deceit pulled Anxiety to his feet and they walked to his room. They sat on Deceit’s bed together. “Anxiety. I’m sure of what your purpose is as a part of Thomas, but for better or for worse, you’re a Dark Side.”

“What-”

“We’re the good guys, Anxiety,” Deceit said, trying to keep the pain out of his voice. “We’re locked away. Hidden from the Others.”

“What others? Why are we the ones hidden?” Anxiety asked. He leaned towards Deceit, anxious to hear more.

“Creativity, Logic, and Morality.” Deceit sneered as he said each of their names. “We are the sides of himself Thomas doesn’t want to know about. So, we’re stuck here. For now.”

“I’m confused.” Anxiety furrowed his brow and stared at the terrarium Deceit kept in one of the corners. “What do you mean, for now? And why doesn’t Thomas want to know about us?”

Deceit sighed. It seemed hard to imagine that anyone could be so naive. Still, he had been like Anxiety once. “I’ll show you.”

Deceit grabbed Anxiety’s hand and sank down. They popped into the Light Side’s common room. Roman screamed, flinging the board the three sides were sitting around into the air. Logic adjusted his glasses irritatedly saying, “Roman, for the last time, would you please refrain from sabotaging the game by dramatically throwing the board.” Roman just pointed behind Logic and Morality. They turned to see Deceit and Anxiety. Logic huffed, clearly annoyed. He stood up, towering over all of the other sides. “What did we tell you last time you came, Deceit? You and the rest of your ilk are not welcome here.”

“Ooh ilk. That’s a fun word Logic,” Morality cooed. “Where’d you learn that one kiddo?”

“Morality, how many times must I remind you, we are the same age and part of someone’s personality. I cannot be your kiddo.”

“See?” Deceit looked at Anxiety to gauge his reaction. “What did I tell you? We’re not wanted.”

“Affirmative,” Logic agreed. Morality smiled sympathetically. 

“Don’t worry kiddo, you’ll have a good home with the Others won’t you-” Morality paused, waiting for a name.

“Anxiety,” Anxiety mumbled. He looked up at Deceit, who saw something more in his eyes now. A fire that hadn’t been there before. “My name is Anxiety,” he repeated with more power. They sank down together.

“Good riddance,” Roman said as he cleaned up the Monopoly pieces. “You know, I always used to play this with-”

“We know,” Logan and Patton replied in unison.

“You’ve only mentioned it 10 times already,” Logan sighed.

Deceit walked Anxiety to his room. “I’m really sorry about tonight. This was the way I wanted to welcome you to the family,” Deceit apologized.

“I had fun actually. Thanks,” Anxiety said sincerely. “And you know what? We’ll find a way to stick it to those Light Side pricks.”

Deceit brightened. He always did love getting back at the Golden Trio. “You mean that?” Anxiety nodded, a slight grin spreading across his face.

“See you tomorrow Dee,” Anxiety called as he entered his room. 

He had shut the door before Deceit was able to reply. “See you tomorrow Anxiety,” he whispered to no one but himself. It was just as well that no one could see him, or they would have taken note of the blush that had spread across the human side of his face.

If you’d like to be on my taglist for writing (and I’m thinking of maybe making one for art if anyone wants) please shoot me an ask. :) Same goes for any questions about my writing or just general questions about anything. I love to interact with people. Stay safe everyone.

Taglist 

@probablynothumanish

@dragonleesupporter

@pixelatedrose

[possiblyimbiassed]

What happened to Sherlock? Part VIII - The Sign of the Hetero Norm (1)

Why does Mary Morstan play such a prominent role in BBC Sherlock? 

I’m surely not the only one asking myself this; while she’s barely mentioned in canon after marrying Watson, she’s all over the place from TEH and onwards in Mofftiss’ adaptation. And when I recently read this excellent fic by @discordantwords, a couple of things dawned on me, that I think have been brewing in my mind for quite some time. Which brings me to the long promised continuation of my marathon meta series about what I think we’re actually seeing in this show. Because the entire point of Mary Morstan seems to be to prevent Sherlock and John from getting together in a romantic relationship - a story of hetero norm. This eighth installment will explore the ‘case’ of little Rosie, and the role she and her mother plays in this show. 

This far I’ve published an intro and seven installments, each with corresponding attempts to test my hypotheses:

Introduction - The game is on (explains the method of analysis) Part I - Blog vs TV-show Part II - Re-living memories Part III - Drugs and weirdness Part IV – Heartbreak and coma (1) Part IV – Heartbreak and coma (2) Part V – Bizarre scenarios Part VI - Live and let die (1) Part VI - Live and let die (2)

Part VII - The Importance of Being Earnest (1) 

Part VII - The Importance of Being Earnest (2)

This installment will also be parted in two, and the second half can be found here (X). Many of the screen caps from BBC Sherlock in this meta are from Kissthemgoodbye.net - thanks! And thanks also to Ariane DeVere for the incredibly useful transcripts!

My next hypotheses is, in and off itself, a clear and straightforward prediction that can be explicitly verified or falsified once we finally get to S5, so it will be extra fun to see what happens with it in future: 

Hypothesis #8: John is not the father of Mary’s baby

(Disclaimer: My suspicion here only concerns John’s biological offspring. It would still be possible that John, and perhaps also Sherlock, might father the child - if it exists - by adoption. It does not exclude a metaphorical reading where the baby represents, for example, Sherlock’s and John’s relationship. I also want to stress that this hypothesis is an attempt at logical reasoning based on observations in the show and in ACD canon; it’s not meant to be ‘gossipy’ and has nothing to do with whether I would actually like to see this happen or not - that’s a whole other story. ;) )  

This hypothesis has been brewing in my mind for quite some time now, but I don’t think it’s just a hunch; there are actually a series of reasons that have made me come to this conclusion. 

(Continued under the cut)

But first of all: can we debunk my hypothesis at this stage in the story, by testing it ‘scientifically’? Well, not really, since the show doesn’t provide any reliable evidence that confirms John as Rosie’s biological father. Not even IRL would this have been possible without a DNA-test (or without physical circumstances that would have made any other option impossible). And the only thing that the show tells us about human DNA-tests is that not even this procedure is 100% reliable, as shown in ASIB:

JOHN: You were dead on a slab. It was definitely you. IRENE: DNA-tests are only as good as the records you keep. JOHN: And I bet you know the record-keeper. IRENE: I know what he likes, and I needed to disappear.

DNA is brought up in TGG (Ian Monkford’s blood) and again in TST (the identification of Charlie Wellsborough’s body), but since John’s fatherhood is never questioned in the show, little Rosie is never tested, as far as we know. The remaining evidence that speaks for John being the father is circumstantial: that John and Mary obviously must have been living together at the approximate time of conception. And that they both act as if they’re both Rosie’s parents.

So I guess that in order to get any further with this, I’ll have to start at the other end, analysing the characters and see if I can find evidence that support my hypothesis - on a textual level as well as metaphorically and on the meta level. 

Mary’s function in the story

I think we can safely say that Mary is the most controversial character of BBC Sherlock. Some viewers love her, others hate her, but I can’t recall anyone claiming to feel indifferent towards her. Mofftiss have indeed managed to push forward a character who is hardly even visible in canon, once she’s married to Watson. In BBC Sherlock, however, Mary totally dominates the show from HLV and onwards. Her appearances may have been increasing in numbers and length already from her introduction in TEH. But from the point where John wakes up in HLV, there isn’t a single case where she’s not somehow involved. Up until TFP, everything is about ’Mary’. And even then, once we might have believed we’d got rid of the ghost of this hijacking protagonist, she comes back, only to once again take over the narrative with a weird and basically inexplicable voiceover. She seems like some kind of obsession; a brain ghost stuck on someone’s mind.

This is rather different from ACD canon, where Mary Morstan has extremely few lines as soon as she’s no longer a client, but Watson’s wife. Personally I find it hard to see the lovable aspect of this character in BBC Sherlock, since she constantly shifts appearance, behaviour and motivation; it’s almost impossible to pin down who she actually is. Which makes me convinced that Mary is not meant to be a real, believable character that we can relate to as such - at least not all the time. And maybe that goes for canon as well.

But what then is the purpose of her, what’s Mary’s actual function in the narrative, looking at the subtext? I think there’s basically three of them, and by no means mutually exclusive:

1. Mary is a metaphor for heteronormativity and its power over people when they internalise it

2. Mary is a façade or ‘beard’, where a straight marriage is established to cover up a story of a gay relationship

3. Mary is a mirror for Sherlock; by substituting himself with a female spouse for John, Sherlock can be with John ‘by proxy’, trying to figure out John without having to face his own real problem: reveal his emotions and risk failure.

As soon as Mary firmly puts her foot in the show, it all becomes a spectacle, a demonstration of how to keep up a straight facade at any cost. After TSoT, no-one ever assumes John and Sherlock are a romantic couple; Mary is the ultimate ’proof’ that John is indeed straight. Which is of course illogical, because why would a bi person stop being it because they married someone, no matter of which sex? Mary admits it herself by telling Sherlock that ”neither of us was the first, you know”. And Sherlock complains that John is dancing around Sholto ”like a puppet” even after the wedding ceremony. But in all the episodes after TSoT, John is happily freed from people’s assumptions regarding his sexual orientation. Gone are all the gay jokes, and John Watson is miraculously ‘cured’. 

I think this is perfectly illustrated in the fic by @discordantwords​ that I mentioned above. The plot follows logically on TFP, as things would be if everything we’ve seen from HLV and onwards is actually meant to be ‘true’. Mary is now dead and John lives alone with little Rosie. For a case, in order to get close to the suspects, Sherlock is planning to fake his own wedding with Janine Hawkins, and John is feeling jealous and excluded – especially when he finds out that one of the murders that Sherlock is investigating had involved a wedding of a gay couple:

"Why all of this, then?" he asked. He tipped his head towards the kitchen, where Janine was fiddling with the kettle. "I could have just—wouldn't it have been easier for us to just—?"

"You're not gay," Sherlock said.

"Well," John paused. "No." He cleared his throat, looked back at the wall. "But everyone already thinks we're a couple. Wouldn't be that much of a stretch, really. For a case."

"No one has thought that for quite some time."

This fanfic rings perfectly true to me, considering S4 on the surface level; John and Sherlock appearing as a couple wouldn’t work after John’s own wedding in TSoT. Because gone is now every allusion to John being anything else than straight. Gone is also John’s admiration for Sherlock; from HLV and on, he hardly ever even speaks about Sherlock in a positive way. (Which also makes me wonder: was ‘The Fall’ also about Sherlock feeling he had fallen from John’s pedestal of admiration?). For the rest of the show, it’s only Sherlock whom we see suffering from (presumably) gay pining. It’s only in Sherlock’s Victorian imagination that Moriarty tells them to ’elope’ together, while John in TLD is shown to be exclusively fixed on his dead wife. 

On the surface, Sherlock seems to support John’s relationship with Mary, while I’m sure he is actually suffering deeply. But I think, metaphorically, that Sherlock is acting like some kind of self-sacrificing Christ figure. (Don’t forget Irene’s words from ASiB: “I think you’re damaged, delusional and believe in a higher power. In your case, it’s yourself”). He bears the ‘cross’ of torture by seeing John with someone else, until he can’t stand it any more and trashes himself on drugs. This is what we see at the beginning of TEH, John holding hands with a woman in front of Sherlock’s grave:

Why can’t we see Mary’s face already here? I think it’s because this is from Sherlock’s POV; he’s either seeing or imagining them from behind. She might have a hidden face but a familiar shape because by the time Sherlock is recalling this, he already knows what Mary looks like. But at this point in time, maybe he didn’t? In any case, it must be devastating for Sherlock to see or imagine John with someone else, when he should be there to mourn him, Sherlock. 

Thinking about John with Mary, Sherlock can’t even sleep. He is tortured on a cross and dies for all our ’sins’, doesn’t he? On the meta level Sherlock Holmes sacrifices his life, he extinguishes his true self, in the name of heteronormativity. So that John can have his straight marriage, even if it’s dysfunctional. But our worst ’sin’ as an audience, I believe - our ultimate mistake - is to buy into this narrative without questioning it. That’s literally letting the hetero norm rule.

King David the Adulterer

Mary’s ex-boyfriend David is introduced in TSoT, but after this episode he never shows up again. But this seems very random to me; why is David even there, and why is he depicted as some kind of rival to John? What is his narrative purpose? David is often blurred out in the scenes, but he is definitely present during the whole wedding reception, where his role is to be an usher (showing people their places/seats). David gives the impression to be single, since he attends Mary’s wedding without any partner as company.

Sherlock, who meets David alone at 221B during the wedding planning, deduces that he still seems to have an intimate relationship with Mary. Only recently I discovered this meta from 2014 called The Baby Problem by @abitnotgood​, which brings up pretty much exactly the same suspicions I have had for quite some time now. The main points are the following:

Mary was dating David for 2 of the totally 5 years she had been undercover with the false name Mary.

They’re still close enough friends for David to attend the wedding, which might indicate their breakup was unwanted from one or both parts.

Mary’s reactions during the wedding reception indicates that she still cares for David.

Sherlock finds out that David has “offered to be her shoulder to cry on no less than three occasions.” 

David sits at the same table as most other major characters, which indicates that he’s important.

David doesn’t look particularly happy while toasting for the bride and groom.

To these I could also add that Sherlock gets so suspicious about David that he threatens him with keeping a close eye on his whereabouts with Mary. From a story telling POV, when a character is suspected by the main character who is a genius detective, there should actually be some reason for this - shouldn’t it?

So who is David? Does he appear anywhere in canon? I actually think he does. In ACD’s short story The Crooked Man (CROO), the name David plays a symbolical role. The story is about a (supposed) murder of a middle-aged military officer, colonel James Barclay. It’s a classical Sherlock Holmes mystery with a door locked from the inside and the key missing. The death seems to originate from a domestic quarrel between the colonel and his wife. (Which is particularly interesting considering the Watsons’ ‘domestic’ in HLV). 

Turns out the colonel died of fright when he saw his old rival Henry Wood, whom he had betrayed in the war and deliberately left to be captured by the enemy. Henry was repeatedly tortured and crippled and held prisoner for many years, until he could escape back to London and a coincidence brought his old love interest in his way, who was now married to the colonel. (Hmm... tortured by the enemy. Been away. Love interest married. Does this seem like anyone we know? ;) ). Henry was “the crooked man” of the story, who was bereft of his loved one because of James. 

But the name David was mystically uttered by Colonel Barclay’s wife while quarreling with her husband - why? Holmes claimed it was a biblical reference to the drama of king David, Batsheba and Uriah. King David committed adultery with the beautiful Bathsheba, who was married to his soldier Uriah. Bathsheba got pregnant after sleeping with David, while Uriah was out fighting a war. David tried to cover up that fact by sending Uriah home, but Uriah refused to leave his comrades. Then David betrayed his rival Uriah the same way James betrayed Henry: by deliberately leaving him exposed to the enemy. The only difference was that Uriah died on the battlefield, while Henry was caught and crippled. Which leads us almost inevitably to Captain John Watson - he is a soldier who was crippled by the enemy too, wasn’t he? ;)

What about Rosie?

Although Mary is dominating the show from TEH and forwards, John’s and Mary’s daughter - little Rosie - is subjected to the opposite treatment; she has very little screen time, and we never learn about a single character trait of hers. In ACD canon the Watsons never had a child, as far as I know. And – even in Victorian times – I believe it would have seemed strange with the Doctor spending so much of his free time (besides work) together with Holmes, obviously neglecting his family duties. So since Mofftiss have introduced a totally new ingredient to their adaptation - a time-consuming baby - one would think this has to have a clear purpose, right? I would have expected Rosie to play a part of her own, someone the audience could relate to just like the other characters, if only still a baby. 

But instead, Rosie is seen most of all as an obstacle. Mary is balancing her while discussing a case with Sherlock. Rosie is handed over to John like a sack of potatoes when the family goes on to solve a case with Sherlock; she doesn’t make a sound and we don’t even see her little face. We see John change Rosie’s diaper once (basically to show that he has a toy daisy behind his ear, which is apparently a good flirting device), and then we see Sherlock trying to babysit her at 221B, getting hit in the eye by her toy. We also hear her cry in the background once, and see Molly hold her once. And that’s about it. 

When Sherlock texts them from the London Aquarium at the end of TST, Mary and John debate which of them is going to have to stay with the baby, but finally both of them show up at the Aquarium – without Rosie. And this happens not long after Mary has taken a ‘little trip’ around Eurasia ending up in Morocco and John and Sherlock going after her – little Rosie staying at home. Which means weeks without any of her parents. If S4 were real, I’d feel truly sorry for little Rosie.

In TLD, Rosie is more absent than her dead mother! While Mary haunts the episode, all we hear about the baby is John’s tremendous guilt for neglecting and abandoning her (which he manages to do completely). John does seem to have enough spare time and energy to go on another case with Sherlock, though, in the middle of his therapy session. At the end of TLD, all is supposedly fine again with Rosie (until John gets shot with a tranquiliser), but we never get to see it. But then in TFP John goes on a long journey with Sherlock to a far away island, and not a word about Rosie. She’s not even present when John receives Mary’s DVD at home. At the end she’s suddenly there again, though, without any comment. 

Based on this, it doesn’t seem farfetched to ask if this little character is even supposed to be real. There’s a subtle hint in TLD which could point in this skeptic direction: 

Sherlock: “And, of course, I hadn’t really anticipated that I’d hallucinated meeting his daughter.” “Still a bit troubled by the daughter. Did seem very real, and she gave me information I couldn’t have acquired elsewhere.” 

John: “But she wasn’t ever here?”

An earlier quote from TGG could also question John’s fatherhood: ”Of course he’s not the boy’s father - look at the turnups on his jeans!” (Sherlock while watching telly with John in TGG, right after the fourth ‘pip’).

And - of course - if S4 is all imaginary, only happening in Sherlock’s head, Rosie would probably not even have been born yet. 

There are also some more subtle hints about Rosie’s narrative function: John’s guilt about cheating on Mary in TLD is connected to the baby. John specifically mentions that he was “cheating” on Mary while she was taking care of Rosie: JOHN (to Ghost!Mary): “We texted constantly. You wanna know when? Every time you left the room, that’s when.  When you were feeding our daughter; when you were stopping her from crying – that’s when.” This does make the (otherwise rather exaggerated) texting affair sound a bit more damning for John, doesn’t it? ;)  If this is all taking place inside Sherlock’s head, it might rather reflect one of Sherlock’s (possibly) major excuses to himself for not confessing his true feelings to John; it might (once the baby is born) disrupt a whole family and affect an innocent little child.

John and Mary’s relationship

The other day I took to re-watch this little piece of extra material from S4: statements by Martin Freeman and Amanda Abbington about John’s and Mary’s relationship (X). Every time I see this video I’m just laughing so hard. Please don’t miss how Martin is struggling to keep a straight face without smiling, after claiming “they’ve been through stuff already in S3 that would test any couple.” (Yep. Like the discovery that Mary is actually a contract killer who shot his best friend and hasn’t even revealed her real name to John). Or how Amanda avoids looking at the camera when she’s lying talking about Mary’s feelings towards John, closing her eyes and shaking her head. Great acting! :)

I mean, this cannot even be intended to fool anyone; I think this is meant to signal to the audience that the marriage we’re seeing is a dishonest, superficial construction made up of empty words. It’s very similar to the scene in HLV where Sherlock tells John about his ‘relationship’ with Janine. Platitudes like “we’re in a good place” are not only included, but also called out in the very same dialogue. John: “You got that from a book!”  Sherlock: “Everyone got that from a book!”. In the video clip, overly sweet violin music is playing when Martin and Amanda talk about their characters’ supposed deep love for each other, but this is mixed up with sitcom-like scenes where this love is made very hard to believe in, like Mary about to give birth in the car and roaring to her husband to pull over, or John telling Mary that he simply intends to forget about a recent past where she very nearly murdered his best friend.  

John’s marriage actually seems terrible from start; he can’t even keep himself off Sherlock’s blog comments during his own honeymoon. Which I believe is canon consistent; in ACD’s stories Mary Morstan even encourages Watson to never leave Holmes’ side. And the bad marriage is also confirmed in HLV by Wiggins’ and Sherlock’s deductions about John’s cycling to work and keeping his shirts ‘folded and ready to leave’ at any moment.

But what’s Mary’s position in this? Let’s say, as a mental experiment, that she knows from start about John’s feelings for Sherlock. Why would she want to be together with, and even go on to marry, a man who is obviously in love with someone else? Well, while I don’t buy the facade-climbing Ninja!Mary who tries to kill Sherlock in HLV, she could still be dishonest in her approach to John. She could still be on some sort of mission related to Sherlock, where her role simply is to get in between John and Sherlock, while she actually is together with someone else (and even carrying that someone’s child). Her aim could be to hurt Sherlock as much as possible, for a specific reason. 

As far as I see in TEH, Mary seems suspiciously eager to befriend Sherlock. Instead of behaving like one would expect from someone in love who just got their special moment ruined by a rival; with anger or at least annoyance, and of course supporting the beloved - Mary immediately sides with Sherlock.

And she seems to side with him most of all on an intellectual level, taking part in his explanations of how he managed to fake his death.

“Oh, he would have needed a confidant...”

So - what can we deduce about Mary?

If everything we see in the show after TSoT only has happened inside Sherlock’s head (as I’ve tried to make a case for in this meta series), from this follows logically that in Sherlock’s ‘reality’, there is no Assasin!Mary, no SecretAgent!Mary, no Martyr!Mary and - of course - no Ghost!Mary. Because up until the wedding, Mary seemed to be just an ordinary woman. The character’s appearance from HLV and onwards would all be fabrications of Sherlock’s drug-influenced mind, albeit loaded with a lot of metaphorical meaning from his subconscious. 

But Mary still seems to exist on some level, doesn’t she? She is referred to by John on his blog, talked about by other people on the blog (including Sherlock), and she even makes comments on it on no less than ten occasions. On the blog, John is clear about getting married to Mary. And after Sherlock’s final blog post ‘The Sign of Three’, it also gets obvious that Mary is now pregnant. 

And – most importantly – if S4 is all-fake, this also means that in Sherlock’s ‘reality’, Mary’s drama-loaded death in TST never happened. Mary is still alive! So if Mary is a ‘façade’, a ‘beard’ and/or a mirror for Sherlock on a meta- and sub-textual level, who is she on the textual level? Well, I think there are some clues in the show, and also a lot of subtext material in ACD canon to draw from, which might have been developed into actual story line in the show.  

And this will bring us to the second half of this meta, which you can find here (X).

Tagging some people who might be interested: @raggedyblue​ @ebaeschnbliah​ @sarahthecoat​ @gosherlocked​ @loveismyrevolution​ @sagestreet​​ @tjlcisthenewsexy​​ @elldotsee​​ @88thparallel​​ @devoursjohnlock​​ @sherlock-overflow-error​​ @yeah-oh-shit​

[lewishamil10n]

M O M

Day 5 - Mary finds out, eventually. 

Warnings - Hurt/Comfort, the boys are dropping hints, Angst, Comfort, Fluff, Berry!AU

‘Those two have certainly become closer than the last time I’ve seen them.’ The alternate universe Bobby points out, and Mary almost chokes on her coffee. 

  ‘What?’

  ‘I mean, look at them, they almost look like a married couple.’ He inclines his head towards the brothers direction. The older Winchester has his arm around his brother, leaning his head against him while he’s feeding himself breakfast, and Sam happily points out something on the computer. 

  ‘You’re not implying that there…’ She starts, looking at her son’s carefullying. 

  ‘Nah, maybe not. They’re closer than regular siblings.’ Bobby says quickly. If he knows something, he doesn’t say anything about it. ‘They’ve only ever had each other for their whole life. To lean on, to cry, to spend time with -- I’m pretty sure they’ve been each other prom date.’

  Mary watches them closely for a bit longer, then sighs. They’ve really ever only had each other. ‘Guess your right.’ 

  🌻

  ‘I’m happy for my dad’s. Aren’t you?’ Jack suddenly says one day, while looking at flowers and Mary’s trying to find some summer decor to spruce up the bunker a bit. 

  ‘Well, yes. They’ve taken good care of you.’ The hunter smiles at the nephilim. ‘The three of them really do love you.’

  Jack pauses his thoughts for a moment, waving to a random passerby before looking back at the flowers. He doesn’t know which ones to pick, so he grabs whatever he can seem to get his hands on and gives a lopsided grin at Mary. 

  She laughs, rolls her eyes and pays for all of the flowers. They stroll through the small Texas town, looking at whatever seems to be displayed in the windows. 

  ‘They can be so loud sometimes.’ Jack starts again. 

  ‘They’re known to have loud voices and the arguments between them can get pretty heated. I mean, have you seen them when they’re watching Disney movies? For men killing monsters on the daily they sure have childlike mindsets. But that's a good thing.’ The thought of it gives her happiness. 

  ‘Huh? No, not that! When they’re busy making out with each other!’ He says, and Mary mind immediately goes back to the conversation she had with Bobby. ‘They can be really loud!’

‘You mean…’ How can she phrase this for a innocent kid? ‘Sexual actions with each other?’

  ‘Yeah! And when the bed starts slamming into the wall it becomes really, really hard to fall asleep afterwards.’ Jack’s watching her carefully, and the hunter gets this feeling she's being watched. 

  She is. Jack eyes are unsettling, and his smile is almost believable. Almost as if was an interrogation.

  ‘Wait, just clear it up for me -- which dads are you talking about?’

  ‘Oh, uh --’ The nephilim was thrown off by that question. ‘Dean and Castiel! Because of the whole handprint thing between them? And they’re totally in love and having sex! Yeah! That!’

  ‘Jack, answer me honestly, are you lying to--’ 

  ‘Is that cotton candy!’ He jumped in excitement, forgetting the conversation. ‘Can I get some, Mary?’

  She giggled. ‘Sure.’

  🌻

  ‘Berry!’ Sam yelled, running down the hallway. ‘Berry! Bad dog!’ Berry ran up and down the stairs, before finally coming into the library and finding behind Mary, who was reading a book. 

  ‘Oh, Berry, what did you do this time?’ Mary made in her you-did-nothing-wrong-you-precious-bean voice, and Berry wagged his tail and accepted his ears being scratched. Berry dropped the red flannel shirt in front of her, and from the size, it was obvious it was Sam’s.

  ‘Berry!’ Sam and Castiel entered the library, and Berry ducked behind Mary. 

  ‘Berry, you cannot hide in plain sight. You are as tall as Sam is, we can still see you.’ Castiel told the dog, and it sat down behind her. ‘We can still see you.’

  He barked eagerly. 

  Mary held up Sam’s shirt, eyebrow raised. ‘I’m presuming that this is yours?’ 

  ‘Yeah, it is!’ Sam walked over to his mom, giving an appreciative nod before taking it. ‘Thanks Mary.’

  Her eyes immediately went to the bruises on his neck and chest, that trailed down past his stomach. Sam flinched a bit when his mom touched his neck, and looked at her in confusion. ‘Sam…? Have you been going out and getting laid lately?’

  ‘What? No!’ Sam flushed like a little kid. ‘No, no, not that! I’ve just…’

  ‘Sam, honey, it’s okay if you are. I mean, I know you probably think I’m going to compare you to Dean, because he does it all the time--’

  ‘No, I’ve been having sex with Castiel!’ Sam buttoned the last of his button, then held Sam’s hand. ‘He and I are in a relationship.’

  She froze again. The three of them stood awkwardly, because didn’t Jack tell her that Dean and Castiel we’re dating? Berry rubbing against her hand looking for some sort of attention, snapped her out of her thoughts. 

  ‘Sam? Jack told me that Dean and Castiel were dating.’ Mary approached cautiously, then gasped. ‘Castiel! Are you cheating on my other son with Sam!’

  ‘What?’ Castiel seemed genuinely confused, and Sam put his hands out in front of him and Castiel, just in case she decided to attack.

  ‘No, Mary, he’s dating me, we just haven’t told Jack yet! He must be confused, because Dean and Castiel’s room’s are right next to each other!’ The younger Winchester said, and that seem reasonable, besides from the part where Castiel still seemed like he had no idea what was going on. 

  ‘Okay then.’ Mary said, giving Castiel a glare before turning her attention back to Berry. ‘Were you feed? You look so skinny!’

  🌻

  ‘Mary, I’d like to speak to you.’ Castiel approached her the next evening while Jack and her watched Sleeping Beauty. 

  ‘What is it, Castiel?’ She tilted her head. ‘Something wrong?’

  ‘It is about your sons.’ He replied, and her eyes opened wide. ‘No, I am not cheating on them, if that is what you are thinking about.’

  ‘Oh. Then what is it?’

  Castiel gulped. ‘I am in a relationship with neither of them.’ 

Mary lifted an eyebrow in confusion. ‘Did you and Sam break up--’

  ‘We were never in a relationship to begin with. And neither of them are getting laid.’ Castiel stated. Jack stopped chewing his popcorn, and gave a hesitant look to the angel. ‘They are in an intimate relationship with each other.’ 

  ‘Yes, Castiel they are brothers--’

  ‘Mary, they’re having sex with each other. They’re in love love with each other.’ Jack blurted out, and Castiel opened his eyes wide. ‘I’m sorry! But she didn’t know and I couldn’t keep it a secret for much longer, she's their mom! And they aren’t the type to kiss and tell!’

  ‘Show.’ Castiel corrected him, before placing a hand on Mary’s shoulder. ‘Please, do not separate them, they are in love, and are each other’s soulmates. You must understand that they have each other and have died for the other, because they cannot simply live without the other half of their life.’ 

  ‘Where are they?’ Mary asked, nonchalantly. ‘And don’t lie to me.’

  ‘They’re having an inmate moment with each other in Dean’s bedroom.’ The angel didn’t look her in the eyes, and went over to Jack to hug him. 

  🌻

  Her boys. They were brothers. And having sex with each other. 

  She almost started laughing right there and then when the door was slightly ajar, and peaked quickly, and Castiel was right. 

  ‘Sam!’ Dean shouted, balls deep in his brothers ass as Sam exposed his neck for his brother to lick and bite and suck at. ‘Fuck, it’s like everytime I prep you -- oh, Sammy! -- you go right back to being a virgin!’

  ‘S-shut up! Just hurry up, everyone is still in the bunker you know!’ His hands raked up and down the older Winchester's back. Crescents and deep red strokes painted Dean’s back. His legs wrapped securely around Dean’s waist, grabbing him close and gasping and panting and moaning. 

  Mary walked away, still hearing the groans coming from both of her sons. Her mind couldn’t wrap itself around any of it, and she sighed. She needed a drink. 

  🌻

  Sam and Dean came out of the room shortly afterwards, and entered the kitchen to get something to eat, where Mary was sitting at the table as if she was expecting them.

  ‘Boys?’ She started. ‘Do you want to tell me anything?’

  The brothers looked at each other confused. 

  ‘No… did you want to tell us something?’ Dean asked. 

  ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘Yeah, we’re sure.’ Sam’s mouth became a thin line. ‘Unless you want to tell us something?’

  ‘How long have you two been together?’ She asked, and noticed the small twitch in both of them. 

  ‘I mean,’ Dean chuckled lightly. ‘We’ve been together since birth and--’

  ‘Siblings don’t exactly fuck each other.’ She started, then winced at how badly it was worded. ‘I mean, you two do know it’s incest, right?’

  Sam started sniffling, crossing his arms tight and Dean’s eyes started watering up. 

  ‘I’m sorry, Mary.’ He stated, and the older Winchesters eyes opened wide. ‘Im sorry.’

  ‘The hell, Sammy? I’m not!’ He came in front of him, making Sam uncross his arms, and wrapping it around his neck, while Dean wrapped his arms around his waist. ‘Hey, I’m not sorry for falling in love with you, there ain’t nothing wrong with the way we are. You and I were made for each other, this relationship is perfect in it’s imperfect messed up way. I’m not sorry for loving you, and waking up to you every morning makes me the happiest person alive. I love you, Sammy.’ 

  Sam looked Dean in the eyes, moving and kissing the older Winchester slowly and Mary stood there silently. Sam broke it apart, needing air and simply rested his forehead against his. They both stood there, as if they we’re the only two people in existence, hands now intertwined with each other. 

  ‘I love you, Dean. I love you so much.’ Sam whispered for Dean. 

  ‘I love you too.’ 

  The two of them stood there for a couple more minutes while Mary watched, not saying a word, then breaking the silence. ‘Boys.’

‘Listen,’ Dean turned to look at his mom, tears streaming down his face. He stood to Sam’s left, gripping Sam’s hand tightly. ‘This--this is who your sons are. In a gay, incestous relationship with each other--but I love Sam and I will not break up with him--’

  ‘What? No, boys! I’m happy for you!’ Mary chuckled. That’s why those two dorks were crying. ‘This wasn’t exactly how I imagined your life to be, nor did I imagine your lives becoming this way, but I am happy for you two.’

  The two of them started crying harder, and Mary smiled. ‘C’mere, you two idiots.’

  The two of them leaned their heads on Mary’s shoulder, gripping her tightly and yet still cried because she loved them and accepted them and that was all that really mattered.

—

oh my god this is perfect mixture of hilarious and adorable. i love that both of them immediately pretended they were with cas, and jack had me laughing out loud with every word. you write their interactions so well!!

poor boys, though, immediately expecting the worst from mary :c im glad she took it well and they got to have their moment (even tho it looks like they totally forgot she was there lmao)

you are so good at humor and i’m so dead from all these winchester family feels 😭 you’re amazing ily 🥰

[artificialqueens]

Places Adore and Bianca Were Nearly Caught Having Sex (3/?) (Biadore) - Miss Alyssa Secret

Anon request from AQ - Roy goes into a lingerie store to buy thongs for Danny. Bonus he grabs a whip while at the counter for good measure.

All of the above with a Miss Alyssa twist ;)

A/N: Recognize the title? Anon, I finished writing this before seeing your airport request. Next time! -MAS

******** Victor’s Secret

The mall should be used as a torture device, Roy decided. The gaggles of teenagers (all genders, sexualities, and sizes) on their phones and generally causing mayhem were bad enough. Add to it people with what felt like dozens of misbehaving kids, and even his patience gave out.

It was incredibly tempting to go shop as Bianca if only to be able to yell, “Get the fuck outta the way!”. On second and third thought, getting into drag on a day off wasn’t terribly appealing, and if he did that there was no way he’d be able to get any actual shopping done at all.

Also? He wasn’t particularly interested in the legions of Drag Race fans knowing which socks he bought.

He kept a polite smile plastered on his face as he was jostled by the crowd, intent on getting out of there as fast as possible. There was gridlock on one of the pedestrian bridges, and he rolled his eyes. Roy was just about to attempt a detour when a very pink advertisement caught his eye.

Pivoting, he made his way into the store. His senses were immediately assaulted by the cloying smell of multiple perfumes in a small space and the music turned up to painful levels. He forged onwards, past the racks of overpriced negligees and robes. The corsets received a snort of professional disdain - the showy D-rings and ribbons would never hold up to actual wear, and most women he knew weren’t proportioned like anime characters.

At last, he reached a quieter area, ignoring the side eye he was getting from the teenage girls. Danny had an amazing ass, one he happily showcased with his collection of underwear. Roy considered and discarded the notion that he would consider receiving women’s lingerie an insult. His sometimes lover was secure enough in his self and sexuality that he’d probably be intrigued if presented with a bundle of lace and bows.

With that in mind, he surveyed the table whose sign proclaimed “6 for $32!”. He bought Bianca’s black panties online to avoid the hassle, and idly wondered if he ought to pick her up a couple of pairs.

The lacy boy shorts had some promise, as did the cheeky panties. Roy waited until a young couple moved out of the way (with the level of disinterest from the guy, he hoped she moved on to better prospects), and crouched to dig through the drawers of thongs. There were animal prints that Danny would likely love, and silky ones with tiny gold hearts. He held up a pair, trying to determine if it was the right size. Unfortunately, even the XLs probably didn’t have enough fabric left to contain a dick and balls, and he sighed in disappointment.

”Is there anything I can help you with, sir?”

Roy turned to find a black-clad twenty-something smiling cheerfully down at him.

“Oh, those are really cute!” She nodded at the panties he already held.

“Uhhh, thanks,” he muttered, thanking small mercies that she wasn’t a Drag Race fan.

”I’m sure she’ll love them,” she continued. “Any occasion you’re shopping for?”

If only she knew.

”Well, ummm, I just wanted to see if…”

Roy cringed internally, hoping he didn’t sound like a creepy straight guy.

”That’s totally fine. We have guys in here all the time shopping for their girlfriends.” She handed him a basket with a wink.

Telling her, “I’m trying to see if the thong would fit my drag queen unlabeled-but-important-relationship-person/lover,” probably wasn’t going to get her to go away any faster than lying.

“Errr, thank you. I think I’m just going to look at a few more…”

”Of course. My name’s Tina if you need any help.”

He breathed out a hefty sigh of relief, waited until she was busy with another customer, and put all of the panties he was holding back before making his escape.

********

As predicted, Danny was vastly amused when he described his adventure into Victoria’s Secret. He’d accompanied a few female friends in the past, but going solo was something else.

”You know,” Danny grinned and wiped a stray bit of cum off Roy’s lower lip, “I wouldn’t say no to going underwear shopping together.”

His attempt to answer was lost as Danny tugged him to his feet, pushed him onto the bed, and climbed on top. Roy forgot exactly what he’d been trying to say when a clever hand closed around his cock and started jerking him off with perfectly timed strokes.

There was something to be said about fucking your best friend, he mused as they laid together while the sweat cooled.

********

Roy thought he could be forgiven for not remembering their conversation a couple of weeks later. When he mentioned going to the toy store for more lube and condoms, Danny’s eyes lit up.

“Oh! Hey, what about going to one that sells underwear?”

”Underwear?”

”Yeah, you could help me pick some out.”

He concentrated on not spitting wine onto the couch, taking in Danny’s enthusiastic expression and his own arousal at the thought.

”Fine, but if I’m paying I get to decide if they’re worth it.”

The wineglass was removed from his hand, and he suddenly had a lapful of Danny.

”Cool. Can I suck your dick before we go?”

********

He had long since stopped being embarrassed or self-conscious about shopping for intimate items, but Danny brought an entirely new dimension to it. Whereas alone or with other friends it was a humorous and fun process, the filthy things Danny was whispering in his ear were making it increasingly difficult to conceal his growing erection.

They were standing in front of the wall of lube, and had been for the last several minutes while Danny described in graphic detail what they could do with each.

”…and then I’ll make you lick my ass, and-“

Roy squeezed his thighs together in a vain attempt to quell the throbbing in his balls.

”Angel,” he muttered through gritted teeth, “pick one and let’s go before I drag you into the fitting room and fuck you.”

In hindsight, he should have realized that it was the exact opposite of a threat, but he blamed it on most of the blood in his brain rapidly heading south.

“Okay!” Danny chirped happily, dropping three different bottles into the basket and pulling Roy by the hand towards the lingerie.

By the time they’d agreed on a half dozen thongs and jockstraps (“Do you ever think we’re a little too stereotypically gay?” “Fuck all the way off.”), Roy had managed to get his raging hard on mostly under control. He wasn’t paying enough attention, however, to realize that Danny wasn’t heading towards the register until a bored staff member reminded them that all lingerie must be tried on over existing undergarments.

He opened his mouth to protest, but Danny was already pulling him into one of the fitting rooms and sliding the curtain shut, pushing Roy down onto the single chair inside.

”Why are you trying them on? We could just head home and-“

Roy’s mouth fell open as Danny dropped his pants to reveal the skimpiest thong he’d ever seen before.

“You said you wanted to make sure you liked them before you paid,” he grinned wickedly, tongue peeking out from between his teeth.

Danny stepped into one of the jockstraps, pulling the bright purple elastic into place over his hips. He made a show of adjusting his package cupped by the fabric in front, then turned around and shook his ass.

He gave Roy an expectant look, eyes narrowing at the crossed arms and weak glare.

”Gonna tell me what you think?”

”Angel, if you don’t hurry up I’m going to get us kicked out of here for public indecency.”

He crossed his legs as well, refusing to give Danny the satisfaction of watching him nudge the renewed erection into a more comfortable position in his pants.

Instead of arguing, Danny surprised him by poking his head out past the curtain.

”Excuse me?” He was using his Adore voice, slightly breathy and flirty. Roy shifted the basket onto his lap as the tattooed clerk approached, shaking her neon dyed hair and generally giving the air of can’t be bothered.

”Yeah?” She sounded even less interested than she looked, which was impressive.

”I need an opinion and my friend is being dumb,” Danny shot a glance at Roy who gave them a tight smile. “Does this make my ass look good?”

The young woman took one look at Roy, taking in the way he was sitting and his expression of long-suffering frustration, and abruptly broke into a fit of giggles.

”Oh I bet he’s dumb right now. Yeah,” she snapped her gum and gave Danny’s ass a quick once-over, “I’d say you should buy those.”

”Thank you.” Danny was laying it on even thicker, and she shook her head before walking away still laughing.

”Hmmm…”

Danny prowled across the small space, pushing the basket aside to straddle his lap and rubbing the substantial bulge against Roy’s chest. The tip of his cock stretched the fabric upwards, nudging his chin, and Roy closed his eyes for a moment. He could smell Danny’s arousal, and it was rapidly degrading his sense of control.

Giving in, he met Danny’s challenging state before slipping one hand inside both layers of fabric and tugging out his half-hard cock. Still watching, he leaned forward and closed his lips around the head, giving it a few good sucks before letting it pop free.

”Fuck…”

Roy licked up the underside with teasing flicks of his tongue before dipping into the slit.

”…yeah…”

”You two still doing okay in there?”

They both froze as the clerk’s voice came from the other side of the curtain.

“Uhh, yeah, thanks!” Roy hoped he didn’t sound too panicked.

”Shit,” Danny muttered as her footsteps receded.

”Come on.” Roy pushed him back gently and stood, grabbing the basket. “Get dressed and lets get out of here.”

”Don’t you want to see the rest of them?”

He tossed the jockstrap in with the rest, and Roy stopped to stare at the thong stretched tight over Danny’s erection.

”I’m buying them all.”

At the register, the clerk gave them both a knowing and far too amused look before ringing them up. Danny squirmed against Roy’s side as he eyed the display of riding crops.

“No.”

”B…”

Accepting his card back, Roy shoved the bag into Danny’s hands and smiled at the clerk. She bid them a cheerful day, and turned to help someone else.

”If you behave,” Roy hissed into Danny’s ear, “I already have one at home.”

Danny practically dragged them out of the store.

”Party!”

[walkerismychoice]

For Law and Love - Chapter 13

Book: Desire and Decorum - Modern day AU

Paring: Ernest Sinclaire X MC

Raiting: PG-13

Summary: Day one of their month apart, but Ernest and Anna still find a way to spend time together. Anna is trying to keep a low profile today, but nobody wants to let her forgot what day it is.

Word Count: 2543

Law and Love Master List  - Catch up here

One month. Anna had been through one month over 250 times in her life. Certainly one more was insignificant compared to the total. And it's not like she wouldn't be able to see him, but it was almost more difficult to have someone you wanted so badly but couldn't have in front of your face all the time then to not see them at all. Yet she still wanted to be with him as much as possible, so she found herself waking at the dreadful hour of seven on a Saturday morning to volunteer at the legal aid clinic on campus. She threw her hair up, put on a clean pair of jeans and a sweater, and grabbed an extra large coffee on the way, hoping she'd feel awake by the time she got there.

As was expected with his “on time is late, and 15 min early is on time personality”, Ernest was already there when she arrived. She had to resist the urge to hug him or be too informal, so she decided if she couldn't act how she wanted to, she'd have some fun with it.

"Good morning, Mr. Sinclaire. Than you so much for this opportunity," Anna greeted.

Ernest raised an eyebrow at her. "Good morning Anna, why don't I introduce you to Mr. Chambers. He'll be training you this morning."

"Anna, so nice to meet you." He held out his hand for Anna to shake. He was a couple inches shorter than Ernest with curly dark brown hair and couldn't have been much older than Ernest. "None of this stuffy Mr. Chambers though. You can call me Bart."

"Nice to meet you too, Bart," Anna replied warmly. There was something about Bart that put her at ease. "How can I help?"

"I'm afraid it's not glamorous work, but we have a backlog of filing to do. Let me show you to the file room." Bart led her to a small room towards the back of the building and explained which piles needed to go where. Just before he was about to leave, he looked at her and smirked. "You know, Ernest had told me a lot about you."

"He has? I'm just one of his students..." Anna waited nervously to see where he was going. She already trusted Bart, but this legal clinic was affiliated with the school and she didn't want any rumors going around.

Bart chuckled. "Relax Anna, Ernest is a good guy, and I'm on your side. It's usually hard to get anything personal out of him, so for him to open up to me about you and this whole ordeal must mean you're pretty special. If he's not going to be interested in someone like me, I'm happy it's you." He must have noticed a slight change in her expression due to his unexpected admission, adding "Yes, I'm gay if you couldn't already tell."

Anna laughed. "I didn't want to make any assumptions."

"I have a boyfriend now, and obviously I'm not his type, but if I had ever had a chance with him, I would have been all over it. Anyhow, the clients will start trickling in any moment, so I'll leave you you to it, but let me know if you have any questions." Bart snuck through the partially opened door, leaving her alone with the massive stacks of paperwork.

Anna put her earbuds in and put some music on to make the menial task a bit more enjoyable. She got in a groove and had made a good dent, not even sure how much time had passed when she felt a tap on her shoulder. It startled her to the point that she jumped and let out a yelp. She whipped her head around expecting to see Bart. "Ernest! What are you doing in here?"

Ernest threw a stack of envelopes on the table and wrapped her in a tight embrace. "Bart insisted I file those immediately."

Anna peaked over his shoulder to see he had closed the door behind him. "Oh did he? He's a pretty decent wingman isn't he?"

"One of the best." Ernest cupped her cheek and ducked his head down to kiss her. He backed her into the table, and then picked her up and sat her atop it. She wrapped her legs around him, pulling him closer as she deepened the kiss, having to fight the urge to start ripping his clothes off since it was neither the time or the place.

Anna put her hand on Ernest’s chest as she pulled back and looked up at him. “I think we better stop before I get us both kicked out of school.”

“You just can’t resist me, can you?” Ernest teased. 

 Anna rolled her eyes. “Today I can, but just barely. Ask me again in a few weeks.” 

“It’s only been a day, hasn’t it? Speaking of the date, I have a confession.” Ernest picked the stack of envelopes up from the table and handed them to Anna. They were tied together with a red bow and she could see the top one was addressed to her, with ‘Day 1′ written on it. “It seems you may have been hoping I would forget what day it is today. With everything going on, I neglected to get you a proper present, but I hope these will suffice. Happy Birthday Anna.” 

Anna didn’t forget it was her birthday, but she had hoped everyone else would. She had planned to celebrate her 21st birthday with Ernest and all her other close friends, but given the circumstances, she just wasn’t in the mood if he couldn't attend. As thoughtful as he was, she should have figured Ernest wouldn’t let it go by unnoticed.  Anna untied the ribbon and sifted through the envelopes numbered 1-31 and her eyes began to well up. "When did you have time to do all this?"

"Let's just say I didn't get a lot of sleep last night." Ernest pecked her sweetly on the lips. "I know we won't be able to talk or see each other every day, but at least you'll get a little something from me."

Anna threw her arms around his neck and rested her head against his chest. "It's perfect."

Ernest left Anna to finish her filing. There was still another hour or so until lunch, and she figured she had at least that much more work to do. She worked diligently and powered through a few extra minutes to get it all done. When she reached the break room, all the employees and volunteers were there and Bart was standing next to a birthday cake.

"We heard it was your birthday, and we never pass up an opportunity to eat cake around here." He lit the candle and led everyone in singing happy birthday to Anna. She was a mix of mortified that all these people she just met were making a fuss over her and touched that Ernest set this all up, for she highly doubted Bart figured out her birthday from the volunteer paperwork she just submitted that morning.

"Thank you," Anna mouthed to Ernest and he just nodded and smiled. The ate lunch and had cake before it was time for Ernest to get back to the clients.

Bart approached Anna before going back to his work. "You got the filing done much faster than I anticipated. I didn't prepare anything else for you to assist with today, so if you want you can go home early, otherwise you could shadow Ernest to get a feel for what we do here."

Anna wasn't going to turn down a chance to spend more time with Ernest, and she was curious to see what kind of cases he dealt with, so she happily agreed to stay. The first client was a man named Luis with an energetic boy in tow who looked about four or five. He rolled his toy truck across the desk and over the paperwork, and Ernest took it all in stride. He went around to Ernest's side of the desk and stared at him expectantly.

"I'm sorry," Luis apologized. "I didn't have anyone to watch him today. Alex, come here!"

"No worries," Ernest assured him. "Hey Alex, I have a very important job for you. Would you like to be my special helper?" Alex nodded and beamed proudly. "Can you give this paper to your dad to fill out?"

Alex took the form to his father and continued to be the courier for each document throughout the visit. It turned out Luis was a single father trying to get permanent custody of Alex. His mom was in and out of jail and sporadically in Alex's life. Luis had been laid off from his job for some time, but now he had steady employment and hoped he had a better chance of the courts awarding full custody. Anna was in awe of the level of compassion and kindness Ernest showed towards both Luis and Alex, and it made her love him even more. Yes, there was no denying she was completely head-over-heels in love with Ernest Sinclaire.

Ernest saw a few more clients that afternoon including an immigration case, a tenant-landlord dispute, and woman seeking disability benefits. Anna had been around lawyers her whole life, but this was a completely different side of things - one she knew existed but had never experienced. Her dad’s clients were typically large corporations and individuals who could pay top dollar for his services. His work certainly served a purpose, but this type of advocacy work, while not likely profitable, seemed to really give people a chance to change things in their lives for the better. Anna was beginning to see for the first time that maybe this career path could not only help fulfill her dad’s wishes, but could be something she was passionate about as well.

At the end of the day, Ernest and Anna snuck in a quick goodbye before Anna headed back home to spend her birthday and the rest of her weekend with her dad. She hadn’t seen him in a few weeks, and spending her birthday with him would be a good distraction. She knew he wouldn’t have expected her to celebrate her 21st birthday with him, but she was sure deep down he was thrilled to have her there instead of out at some bar getting wasted. 

Anna walked through the front door, and was confused when she saw a couple pairs of women’s shoes by the door. She turned the corner to the living room and noticed a large birthday banner, before she saw two familiar faces pop out.

“Surprise!” Briar yelled and rand over hugged her. 

Annabelle followed suit. “We know you said you didn’t want to do anything, but we came to crash your party anyway. Don’t worry, nothing wild. Just a fun girls night in.”

Somehow Briar and Annabelle both new Anna well enough to know what she needed even more than herself. She thought she wanted to wallow in self-pity with her dad, but having them there was a breath of fresh air, and her mood instantly lifted.

“I’m glad I have troublemaker best friends like you two who never listen to anything I say.” Anna chuckled. “Seriously though, I’m really happy you both are here. I’m just going to go say hi to my dad.”

Anna wandered into the kitchen where she could hear her dad banging around. “Hi sweetheart!” Vincent threw his arms around her and kissed her on the cheek. “Happy Birthday!”

“Hi, Dad. I hope you don’t mind that Briar and Annabelle are joining us.”

“Of course I don’t mind!” Vincent Exclaimed. “Who do you think invited them? I know you love your old man, but I know you need your friends too. I figured we could all eat dinner together, and then I’ll leave you girls to whatever girls do.”

Anna scanned the kitchen. There was a pan of lasagna prepped and ready to go in the oven, and her dad was cutting up vegetables for salad. “Do you need any help with anything?

Vincent shooed her away. “Get out of here. It’s your birthday. Go relax.” He pointed to a bottle of white wine chilling in a bucket on the counter. “You could get yourself and your friends a drink now that you’re legal. There’s some beers in the fridge also.”

“The wine will be perfect. Thanks dad.” Anna grabbed the wine and three glasses and joined her friends in the living room.

Dinner was nice, and Vincent had gotten tiramisu from Anna’s favorite Italian bakery for dessert. Both Anna and Vincent were pleased to hear Briar had ditched Eddie and Arthur and was navigating somewhat of a long distance relationship with Luke.  It was nothing serious yet, but they had continued to talk since they met at the bar and had plans to meet for lunch the next day. Annabelle gave a hilarious but PG-rated version of her Tinder adventures, and they all ate until they were stuffed.

Vincent retired early as promised, and the girls put on face masks and gave each other pedicures, which probably wasn’t the best idea after a few glasses of wine. Nevertheless, Anna hadn’t felt so light nor laughed that much in quite some time. They settled in and watched To All The Boys I’ve Loved Before, which Anna could never get tired of. She had to admit Peter Kavinsky made her swoon, but he still had nothing on Ernest Sinclaire.

When they could all barely keep their eyes open, Anna showed Briar and Annabelle to their guest rooms, before climbing into bed. She retrieved evelop #1 from her bag, which she had purposefully saved until now to open and read what was inside.

My Anna,

One day down, and one day closer to us being together freely again. I couldn’t have imagined just a few months ago I’d be here today, having someone like you I can’t live without. However much you are missing me, I’m certain I’ll be missing you more.

I know this birthday isn’t what you planned, but I hope the time we got to spend made you at least a little happy. I’m not sure what kind of trouble you’ll get into the rest of the day without me, but please for your sake and mine, try to refrain from getting so drunk you puke on another man’s shoes. I hope to be the first and last to experience that with you. 

Love,

Ernest 

Anna laughed to herself as she wiped a tear from her cheek. Then she realized what he’d written in closing and her heart fluttered. She knew she loved him and she thought he felt the same, but they’d never thrown that four letter word out there. She wondered if it held the weight she thought it did, but Ernest took nothing of importance lightly. If he used that word, he meant it. Anna tucked the letter safety in her nightstand drawer and her head hit the pillow with a big smile on her face. This was not at all the 21st birthday she had envisioned, but all in all it had been a pretty great day. 

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[things-we-used-tc-share]

It was always you

“It was always you,  falling for me,

now there’s always time, calling for me,

I’m the light blinking at the end of the road,

blink back to let me know,”

Warnings: Smoking and alcohol ment, tattoos?

Ship: Royality, Background Analogical

Plot: Patton and Roman have been friends for years, best friends, inseparable friends. They’d always been there for each other and always will be. 

Written for @romansleftshoulderpad happy PALentines day jr! 

“My turn!” Roman declared, a seven-year-old with a cape tied around his shoulders as he brandished a small plastic sword “I wanna fight the bad guys now Pat!” His best friend, tripping over his own feet with a wide grin, points his own sword to the sky. 

“I will protect the prince!” The brunet declared “We can fight together,” Mrs Prince, leaning against the wall to the house with a glass of lemonade shakes her head and nudges Mrs Sanders with a smile, the warm smile at watching their children play happily is returned. 

“People would think they’re brothers, the way they act,” A small laugh leaves her and she calls “Boys! Dinners ready,” The swords become abandoned on the floor as it becomes a race to eat, the cape around Roman’s neck billowing behind them as he grabs his best friend’s hand and runs. 

--

“I hate school,” eleven-year-old Roman complains to a maths book, before lowering it and nudging Patton “Shall we go to the treehouse?” The treehouse in question was one built in the forest behind Roman’s house. Patton blinks, a mouthful of cookie blocking his response, but Roman waits patiently. 

“We should ask your mum first,” He looks down at the maths book “I don’t understand maths, I mean shouldn’t there be more numbers? Why are there letters too?” He lets out a harumph of displeasure before sliding the plate of cookies closer. 

Mrs Prince came in to see how they were doing, to be met by two very upset young faces as they glared at the work that was surely well above their grade. “Alright boys you can go to the treehouse, be back before dark! Take your dad’s phone Roman,” The two let out a cheer as they scramble out the door, grabbing Mr Prince’s phone as they go. 

The treehouse was their fortitude, it could be a palace or a battleground or a spaceship. Patton digs the cookies out of his pockets, handing one to Roman as they sit on the edge, legs swinging whilst they take in the forest around them.

“I hope we’ll be friends forever Roman,”

“Of course we will Patton!”

--

“You have paint all over you,” Roman snorts, gesturing to the blue and black paint all up Patton’s arms, the elder simply shrugs, “treehouse?” Patton nods, his portfolio bag swinging by his side as they head towards Roman’s house. “Are you finally going to show me the project you’ve been working on?”

“Maybe,” The shorter replies with a grin “Maybe I’ll never show you!” Roman gives him a light shove through a smile and they walk in silence. Now sixteen and struggling with their work, they'd already chosen the paths they’d wanted. Patton, an artist, if the paint and ink decorating his skin was anything to go by. Roman, an actor, and he was brilliant at it. 

They climb the ladder as they’d done for most of their lives and Patton pulls out the sketchbook he’d been so heavily protecting, handing it to Roman and looking down at his feet as they swung. He hears a soft ‘oh’ escape the other before he’s met with Roman’s grin “I’ve never looked this good before,” Patton laughs gently as his attention is drawn back to the sketchbook full of observations of Roman. 

--

“Is that a...cigarette?” seventeen-year-old Roman blinks down at the voice from where his legs are dangling, to the bottom of the ladder to Patton’s shocked expression. “Roman!” He moves back for the elder to scramble up the ladder, blankly watching the end of his cigarette as the smoke drifts from it. He hates that he’d hidden it from Patton in the first place, amongst other things. “Roman, when did you start smoking? Why did you start smoking?” 

There’s silence in the static air for a second, punctuated by an inhale and long exhale, like a sigh. “I’m just...not really feeling okay lately, stress I think,”

“So you thought cancer was a good way to remedy that?” He’s half joking, half serious, mostly upset and a little bit angry that Roman would start smoking and then hide it from him. The way the other had been acting lately it seemed there was a lot he was hiding; for once he’d been staring off into space, barely recognizing his own existence more often than not, plastering on smiles that were so fake they could’ve been made from plastic. “Roman, what’s gotten into you lately?”

Alarm shoots through Patton as Roman’s brown eyes met his own pale grey ones, and he sees tears in them. The younger sniffles and wipes his eyes before his body starts to shake with tears like he was afraid. “Patton I...” He chokes and swallows, a hand coming up to his mouth to muffle the sobs before he finally forces out his words “I’m gay,” The other goes very still for a moment and then sighs. 

“Oh Roman,” He hugs him, pressing a kiss to his forehead “That’s okay, there’s nothing wrong with that at all,” Roman breaks, sobbing as the cigarette falls down the ladders and his arms wrap around his friend, seeking some comfort for a secret he’d been carrying alone for far too long. “I suppose now is a good of a time as any to tell you I’m gay too,” Patton says gently, rubbing the others back “Have you told your parents yet?” A head shake “Anyone at all?” And another “Roman, how long have you known?”

“A year and a bit, maybe longer I don’t know I just...I was scared, I knew that you wouldn’t mind, and my parents wouldn’t and I’m sure most people know because I’m not...exactly a picture of masculinity but I was still scared,”

“I know Ro, I know, it’s all okay,”

“You always make it okay,”

--

“This city is...busy,” Patton sighs, sketchbook tucked under his arm as he watches the cars move past him “And the accents are weird,” twenty-one and taking a vacation from his work for ‘inspiration’ the two had traveled to the UK for a little bit of a change of scenery. “But it’s nice, it’s pretty,” The buildings weren’t as tall as those he’d seen in New York, they were a comfortable size. Most of them made out of glass. 

“We should go get all our stuff checked into the hotel,” Patton hums in agreement, as they head in the direction that Google Maps said that they should. The busy streets were a little different from what he’s used too, but his heart still fills up with warmth as he takes in the new signs and the cars that drive on the wrong side of the road. The hotel is not particularly large, situated on one of the biggest roads in the city. They check in and take a keycard each before pulling their suitcases into a lift that should surely be bigger. 

“Are you happy?” Patton asks, his wide eyes and gentle smile flooding Roman’s heart with something he’d experienced before and was trying desperately to ignore. 

“I couldn’t be happier Pat,” The smile that elicits made his heart beat tenfold faster before the elevator doors open and they begin their search for the right room, suitcases making noise against the carpeted floor that makes Patton laugh a little, high off the feeling of a new city. A new country, a new place. He hums as he puts the keycard into the door and pushes it open with his shoulder. 

“Oh,” He mutters “Uh Roman?” Roman hums from behind him and then looks over Patton’s shoulder before letting out a small laugh, either there was a God out there and he was playing a cruel joke or Patton forgot to double check that it was two singles and not a double bed. “I must have messed up, I’m sorry,” His face falls but his best friend only squeezed his arm. 

“It’s alright Pat, there’s definitely worst ways to be spending my nights, plus we’ve been sleeping in the same bed since we were kids!”

“When we were kids,” The other corrects, but a small smile tugs at his lips. Roman was right, it’s hardly the end of the world.

(By the end of the holiday, he’d be wondering how he’d slept alone for so long)

--

Patton thought about the holiday for a while after it had ended. Halfway through the week, he’d spent waking up next to Roman he’d hit a realization. He’d gone to the UK to draw the sights and gain a sense of perspective and take pictures of the wonderful landscapes, yet most of the time he’d spent staring at his best friend (Because really, was there anything much prettier than Roman?). 

He played it off as though it was a simple aesthetic attraction, Roman was objectively pretty, most people found him attractive. Until he’d woken up with Roman’s arm around his waist and his breath on his neck and thought “this feels like home,” He’d known he was gay for a long time now, and he’d always found Roman to be a center of attraction, but it was a worrying realization to look at your best friend and think you might actually be falling in love with them. 

Unbeknownst to him, Roman had been facing this dilemma for a couple of years now, and the best solution would be just to tell him. But it wouldn’t be much of a story if it was that simple, would it?

Aged twenty-two, the two of them decide that life together is more fun, and get a flat together, along with two other students that they haven’t actually met yet. 

--

“Absolutely not happening,” Somewhere between twenty-two and twenty-five the two had made friends with their drastically different roommates. Logan, a brilliantly minded biochemistry student with a penchant for, despite being extremely clever, enjoying ruining everyone’s fun. Specifically Roman’s. 

“Please Logan,” Roman whines, like a child instead of a full-grown adult. He sighs “Fine? Patton!” The art student looks up from the collection of paper strewn all over the floor, his hair rather messy. “Will you do it?” He’s not really sure what he’s agreeing too and looks like he hasn’t slept in days before nodding. “Great, Patton will be my fake date,” Patton goes bright red and stares hard at the piece of paper in his hands. 

“More like a real date,” Their other friend, Virgil, a pessimist and not one for biting his tongue, mutters through a smirk. The hard glares he catches off both Patton and Roman makes him chuckle before his attention turns to his phone “It’s true,” Logan exchanges a small smile with his friend behind the two would-be-lovers back and receives a quiet eyeroll from Virgil. “One day they’ll figure it out,” 

--

Roman’s had many boyfriends, he’s had so many boyfriends that he almost didn’t notice that Patton had never really been in a relationship; there was an attempt between him and Logan which lasted around month before they decided that it didn’t felt right, but he’d really not noticed that Patton had never had a long term relationship. 

He feels bad because he liked all those men, but he’d never stopped looking at Patton and thinking that he was his entire life. Now twenty-five and accepted that he was never going to fall out of love with his best friend. Anyone that witnessed them would tell them that they rather had to be emotionally blind, so to speak, to not notice the way they hang off each other’s words. The only thing different between these two being in a loving relationship and a loving friendship were that they called it a “Friendship,”

In hindsight, Roman had wished Logan had said yes when he’d asked him to accompany him as his fake date because he could pretend to be in love like nobodies business, and Logan knows that he has no desire to ever be romantically involved with him; he wasn’t sure how to pretend to not be in love, you would think he’d have mastered it by now. 

He was terrified Patton would catch on and from the second he saw him dressed in his blue suit, hair swept back from his eyes he worried he himself would not be able to conceal it.  Interestingly enough, Patton was thinking the exact same thing. 

“You look nice Pat,” The younger manages out as if he’s being suffocated by his own words, stiffly and choking with a hard look in his eyes. “Really nice,”

“Thanks, Roman,” Patton noticed, but he didn’t want to mention it. “You look handsome as always,” He smiles and takes the offered arm as they walk towards the Taxi together. Behind them and waving them off Logan shook his head and Virgil is trying to stifle laughs, leaning against his friend’s shoulder as the two walk off. 

“I think we should start placing bets,” Virgil mutters and Logan tries to hide the smile on his face. 

--

“Uh,” Virgil blinked down at the couch with confusion on his face before he slowly walks back up the stairs and into Logan’s room “Logan, Logan,” He whispers, tapping the other awake “You’ll never guess!” Logan lets out a soft groan before following Virgil’s gesturing hands “Stay quiet,” His eyebrows furrow as he tries to comb his hair with his hands into something somewhat acceptable. When he reaches the living room and follows the hand that is pointing to the couch he peers over his shoulder. 

“Are they...?” Virgil shrugs. 

Roman was lying on the couch, his blazer resting on the floor with his tie with the first few buttons of his shirt undone. The TV was playing quietly, barely making a sound. Patton was lying on Roman, his head on his chest and his arms at the other’s side with a content smile on his lips. “That is...undeniably adorable,” 

“They have to talk about it now surely,” Virgil mutters with a sigh before creeping past into the kitchen “WHo knows how long this was going on before we met them like I’m not going crazy right?” Logan fishes out the cereal from the cupboard with a hum. “Patton told me how he feels about Roman,” He finally admits (Patton had been worried extensively about being the fake date to his best friend whom he was in love with, and the existing pressure of his work had lead to one big explosion of emotion, in which Virgil had made him a cup of tea and reassured him). 

“Interesting, because Roman confided in me about his feelings for Patton,

They eat in silence (Distantly, Logan wonders how Virgil manages to notice other people’s feelings but not when the affections are directed at himself). 

--

“You got a...tattoo?” Roman blinks at Patton, whose holding out his arm, wrapped in cling film. The blues and reds and browns make up that of a bird, bright and vibrant watercolors that were very Patton. “It suits you, I love it, did you design it yourself?” Patton nods and lets his arm fall by his side. 

“He designed mine too,” Virgil, a minute behind him, chucks his bag on the floor. Roman’s not sure if he’s ever even seen Virgil’s arms before as he pulls his hoodie sleeve up. It was a blackbird, with purple splashes of watercolor, also very Virgil. “Honestly Pat you should go into tattoo design,” Patton only laughs, Roman tries to ignore the slight sinking feeling that Virgil ha known and he hadn’t. Then reminds himself that Patton has every right to go and do what he wishes, with or without informing himself. 

“Hey Pat?” Virgil moves past them to go and find Logan and show him his new design “I’m going back home in a couple days, just for a week, I was wondering if you’d like to come? See my parents and yours of course,” 

“Yeah I’d love too Roman,” Patton smiles in all his warmth, Roman is tired of simple motions making him feel as though his heart is breaking. 

--

“I can’t believe it’s still here,” The two sit in their treehouse, a bottle of wine between them as Roman lights a cigarette “And I still can’t believe your smoking,” 

“For old times sake,” Roman shrugs and leans back against the wall, taking a swig from the bottle. He inhaled and exhaled before looking up at the stars. “I think Logan would like it here,” He mutters “The stars are so clear,” The brunet nods but the only star he’s really looking at-and has ever been looking, at-is Roman. The smoke curls from his lips and drifts into the air and he looks so sad. “Patton I can’t do this anymore,” It’s like deja vu, Roman, smoking a cigarette and tearing up except now there’s a bottle of wine and the fact that he feels like he could lose his best friend (He really should know Patton better than that). 

“What’s wrong?” The cigarette gets flicked to the ground and the elder can see the tears being fought out of soft brown eyes, he can suddenly see everything that Roman’s being trying to hide and his heart almost stops beating. 

“I love you,” First there’s confusion on Patton’s face, well, of course, Roman loves him they’d always loved each other, why would he look so scared over...oh. Oh. Patton throws his arms around his best friend with no other conscious thought than to comfort him, holding him as close as possible. 

“I love you too,” Patton’s voice chokes on his words as he feels the tears well, it had been so, so long now, years of tossing and turning the matter in his brain repeatedly. He wondered had it been the same for Roman, by the way, his shoulders shook he thought it might be. They sit like this for a while, holding onto each other, Patton shifting into Roman’s lap so they could hold on more comfortable. “After all this time,”

“How long?”

“About...five years, and for you?”

“Nearly ten,” All this time, he’d never brought it up, never mentioned it, had he told anyone? Had he simply bore the burden alone? Patton had so many questions and not enough time to have them all answered, not right now anyway. His only response was to shake his head, his fingertips tracing patterns into Roman’s cheekbones carefully, delicately, like he may break any second. 

They just stare at the tear stains through the darkness, exploring the expressions that convey both relief and heartbreak simultaneously. They’d been keeping a secret from each other for far too long, and that’s not what should’ve happened, both carrying their own guilt that the other felt he could not come and approach the topic. 

Without enough words to say what they’re feeling, Patton simply kisses him, his hands cupping his best friend’s chin like he was holding the world between the palms of his hands. Roman’s hands slide up the other’s back and gripped the back of his jacket like he’s terrified the other might disappear right in front of them. 

Finally. 

--

There are few surprises left for the two by the end of the trip away, one of them, however, did not include finding Virgil and Logan kissing rather feverishly on the couch. “Really?” Roman snorts, “Like we’re gone for a week so you guys decide to desecrate every conceivable surface in the house?” Logan at least, had the conscience to look embarrassed. 

“Well, at least I don’t have to watch you two pining for each other anymore,” Patton hums, and Virgil gives him a look that says ‘you have got to be kidding me’ whilst Logan’s expression seems to be more along the lines of ‘you two are one to talk,’ but they silently acknowledge the two hands that are holding each other. 

“We’ve not had a movie night in a while,” Virgil comments as he moves towards the kitchen “Think you two lovebirds will be up to it?” Patton’s cheeks go very red whilst Roman doesn’t look remotely perturbed “Can’t hide anything from me, my dudes, now you order the Pizza, I’ll see what’s on Netflix,”

The four settle into their own routine, feeling content as Patton reaches for the phone to order pizza and Virgil returns with a glass of juice to scroll through the shows available. They exchange little glances with their partners, small smiles of happiness. 

[hisgirlwonder]

One Shot - Heaven in Hiding

Length: 1.7k words Warning: Smut, kink, humiliation, etc Synopsis: Michael calls for you to his office but you won’t go without a fight. Unable to tolerate your insubordinate behaviour, he has to show the others who is in charge before anyone else decides to step out of line. Notes: I did plan to create a second part but I’m not too sure currently, will see if I get the inspiration to :)

Gallant comes back from his interview with Michael declaring to you and Coco as he sits down, “Girls, your boy is in with a chance at Langdon. I got slapped in the face with a total gay vibe. I mean, look at him. No straight male has hair like that,” then points to himself, “I should know, I do hair for a living and I’m gay.”

The two of you look at each other in disbelief then look back at Gallant. Coco comments, putting her hand in the air for him to stop, “Oh honey, no no. I hate to break it to you but that man is the modern day Prince.” Agreeing with Coco, your lips are lightly puckered and you nod. She continues where she left off, gesturing with her hands, “His magnetism, his charm, his prowess are all part of the appeal. He knows he’s so pretty that straight men would bow before him.” She looks Gallant up and down, “He probably can figuratively feel that hard on you have for him a mile away. “

Before the conversation can continue any further, Michael walks in the room and directly to your table. “I hate to break up the party where the three of you are discussing my sexuality but, y/n, you need to come with me.”

“Why? Why me? What could I have possibly done to warrant you moving from your throne coming down here?” You question him, snapping at his demand.

He dug at you, “Why not? Shouldn’t you feel honoured that I’m wasting my time on your existence or that I even know your name?”

You scoff, “I don’t think you need to barge in here, dick in hand to wank over the authority you possess, and not tell me why you want or need me to come with you.” You knew what you’d be in for but you never let a man speak to you like that. This place was the end of the line and he could kill you for all you cared. He’d never kill you though; you were too much fun. You were a brat and you drove Michael crazy.

The contempt sets Michael off and he wants to show everyone who’s boss. He doesn’t want the others thinking they can speak to him the way you just did. He gets a hold on a handful of your hair and pulls you to him. “You live here, we provide for you, and for what? For your insolence?” He pulls tighter and spits callous words at you, “I could snap your fucking neck right now and your peers would thank me that I spared them.”

He drops the tight grip around your hair causing you to lose your balance and fall to the floor. “Come with me now. You don’t need or deserve an explanation. Just do as I say. You need to remember, you’re only a grey and not a purple. You don’t have the privilege like others do when it comes to deciding what you want to do around here. I also don’t repeat myself more than once.” That’s right. He dug the knife in a little deeper. You were only a grey; no more, no less. You watched as those like Coco got to wear beautiful purple dresses and you were stuck in the grey smocks provided for you.

-

You loudly close the door to Michael’s room and exclaim, “You didn’t have to rip me a new one back there, you know?” He walks over from his desk and runs his hands up and down your arms, “I’m sorry, pet. It just needs to be believable. You did insinuate that I was going to wank over my power so…” he trails off, placing a gentle kiss on your shoulder. You interject, holding back the laughter, “You have to hand it to me, the dick in hand comment was hilarious. Now, you say believable huh? Don’t you mean terrifying? Gallant isn’t adept at being around you when you’re like that. He’s terrified of you. Not all of us are like me.” You smile, your tongue caught in your teeth. You didn’t love this game but you didn’t hate it either. “Michael, why did you call me here anyway?”

“A couple of reasons,” one of his fingers push some of your fallen hair behind your ear, “Let me get the first for you.” He makes his way back to where he was before you came in and undoes the clasp on the necklace around his neck. You can only presume from his actions and what you can see he’s unlocking a drawer. Michael takes out a lilac coloured box, calling you over. You wander to where he’s sitting, positioning yourself to the right of him. An arm of his wraps around your thighs and he cocks his head at the box in front of you, “Open it.”

Michael had, in secret, bought you many things before but never anything like this. He usually bought you things like your favourite books, your favourite treats, that sort of thing. This was different. This was purple lingerie and not just any purple but royal purple. You look to him and try to say something but you’re unable to form a proper sentence, somewhat speechless.  “You may wear grey dresses and seem like another number to them but to me,” he plants a kiss on your outer thigh, “Deep down you’re a purple to me; more of a purple than anyone else here,” he assures you.  Your hand strokes his hair in approval - you were the only one allowed to even think about touching his golden locks. Once you’ve gained composure enough to be coherent, you swoon, “Oh, Michael, they’re beautiful.”

Michael stands up to meet you at your level, slightly above you in height. He was only around 3 inches taller but it made enough of a difference to the situation – you felt small, and it added to your submissiveness.

“Maybe I can give you the second present now.” You notice his teeth grazing his bottom lip. “I am pretty hungry.” A moment later, the two of you are locking lips - his kisses reek of desperation and desire and his hands are everywhere; one is fixed in your hair, tugging at it, and the other is exploring your body. He moves his hands down and positions his arms to pick you up. The two of you are still engaged in a passionate kiss when Michael throws you down on the bed. He positions himself above you and asks, “How shall we do this, Miss l/n?”

You swirl your fingertips over his chest and playfully tease in a childlike manner, “Like I’m just a pathetic little grey with no real purpose other than to serve you.” Michael tongues his front teeth at your words, “This morning has sent you into a state, hasn’t it?” You bring him down to you, your eager mouth finding his earlobe, whispering, “You have no idea.”

-

There is a change in the energy inside those four walls suddenly. His hand grabs at your face, “Oh, little grey, what are you doing here? Why are you in my room?” You got too much of a kick out of this. You stay quiet, waiting to see what happens next. His tone changes, becoming louder. “Answer me! I am your superior and I demand an answer.”

Rolling your eyes at his comment, you jest, “Well, if you must know, was bored.” You knew how much Michael disliked someone rolling their eyes at him so it amped up his frustration even further. You wanted him to break and become merciless on your body. Michael snaps, “Bored? Is that so? Well, maybe I can find some use for you.”

He runs his hands up your thighs and teases at your slit through your damp underwear. “I can feel how wet you are without even taking them off. Pathetic.” His fingers slip the fabric to the side and force their way past the entrance. You try to hold back a moan of enjoyment to stay in character. You’d be lying if you said his humiliation didn’t set you off. The power and dominance he asserted against you, both in the bedroom and in public, drove you wild.

Michael remarks with a low snarl, “I’m learning more and more about you every time I see you. Like, right now for example, your body is offering itself to me.” He brings up his speed, fucking you faster with his hand. “It doesn’t know that I already own it,” then comes a pauses as he rips off your underwear, leaving you exposed. Saying nothing to you as his face dives in, kissing and tonguing every inch of flesh between your legs.

You try to hide the fact his mouth, especially his tongue, felt like heaven. “W-w-why are you doing this?” You stutter, pretending that you weren’t enjoying what was happening.  “You can’t do this.” He looks up, chin covered in your juices, “That’s where you’re wrong. I can do whatever I want.” Everything about the moment felt so right; his hands, his fingers, his mouth, his tongue (oh god his tongue). If you were to die right now, you would die happily.

With fingers still in your dripping pussy, he can feel you reaching the edge, so he taunts you, “If I had plans to actually use your worthless hole to fill you with my seed right now, your body would dissolve like a sugar cube in water before you realised what was going on enough to try and stop me.” His mouth finds his way back to your clit and he’s more aggressive this time.

His own words spark a match inside him and the fire consumes him, and it spread to consume you too. The heat rises up throughout your body and explodes. You burst at the seams, climaxing intensely. You cover your mouth with your arm to try and muffle the loudness of your noises. Michael looks up from between your legs. He bites your thigh gently, unable to hold back his satisfaction of what just happened. “Do you want to go make a show?” Your hand tousles his hair and you knew exactly what he meant.

“Yes, yes I do.”

[littlegalerion]

Shipathon  Meme!

Tagged by @sheirukitriesfandom Thanks for tagging me and giving me an excuse to rant about ships~ Tagging: @foxyhearts @diamond-loki @greennightingale  1.) First Ship you Ever Wrote Fic For? It was for Vanus and Caafire, and it actually got featured front page on an animo! It was old Caafire though, before I had developed her to her current status of unable-to-use-magic-because-if-she-does-she’ll-explode sword swinger master. Back then she was just a free lance battlemage with a bad family life.  2.) Ship you Write Most Now? Well... tech I write for Trechire x Eliindil (Sheogorath) most now because that’s my timeline’s canon, so every time I write using characters in that universe I’m tech writing that ship, as Sunnabela and Kirr are their kids (Sunnabela his step-son, but Eliindil raised him). Just it’s a post-ship writing I guess? In terms of who I formulate for the most, that would probably be Laloriaran X Trechire in the AU, which I really should write more of.  3.)Ship you Read the Most Now? Sotha Sil x S/O, and it’s more just headcanon fluff stuff really. I wish there was more Sotha Sil x S/O, but that’s “not lore friendly” so I think a lot of would be writers get intimidated and scared away by lorebeards to write any solid series with it. I HAVE seen some, and for that I’m grateful. The headcanons at least seem to be multiplying beautifully.  4.) Newest Ship? Some questions are best left unanswered.  5.) Rare Ship you Wanna Read More of? Bring on the Sotha Sil x S/O or the Vanus x S/O.  Please, spoil me.  6.) Your Taboo Ship? Okay, I can already feel the heat of sheer rage from people reading what I’m gonna write under this. But Vanus x Mannimarco is the most toxic ship I have ever seen, in ANY fandom.  Firstly, heavily cliche. “They hate each other so at one time they must have liked or loved each other” No, that is not what that means. Sometimes it could be the case, but if it was romantic, then it wasn’t a “little falling out”. Vanus and Mannimarco are legends in their war against each other. In ESO Mannimarco loudly insults and kills mages of the guild, while Vanus openly spits against necromancy. Both very passionately doing so. If something romantic did happen, it’s a romance with no good memories in it. Secondly, it’s abusive. In Summerset, we get to see the two of them in their youth interacting. During this quest, it’s very obvious Mannimarco is manipulating Vanus, who is very optimistic and wants to believe the best in his friend. Mannimarco, however, doesn’t care. He never saw Vanus as an equal, BUT as a potentially USEFUL mage. He probably did feel a sting when Vanus rejected necromancy, but it wasn’t because “oh dear, my lover has rejected me!” It was most likely because Mannimarco realized he had lost a very useful future second in command, and gained an enemy which would prove a pain for years to come. I like to also point out, Mannimarco wasn’t this lonely little necromancer in the Order. We see a note concerning him in the dungeon that proves he had other friends and, while perhaps not well received overall, he had their respect as a senior member.  What I’m getting at is, if there was ANY romantic or sexual relationship between Mannimarco and Vanus, it was NOT healthy. Mannimarco knew what he was doing, and was most likely an emotionally abusive partner. The type that gets uncomfortably moody or guilt trips their partner to get his way. He is SEEN doing this in the quest, actually, when Vanus catches him raising a skeleton guar, Mannimarco replies, “I thought you’d understand” and “You sound like the Ritemaster.” A chord he knew would hit Vanus hard, which it did, as Vanus stumbles to reply and drops the argument.  Listen, if your s/o does something that makes you feel very uncomfortable and unsafe, then you go to them about it and they pull that crap on you, YOU LEAVE.  Lastly, a lot of the time it seems I see this ship under “cute gay mages owo”. Gay couples deserve healthy relationships. Gay relationships do not need to be soaked in pure drama and dark tones to exist. Especially in Elder Scrolls, where gay couples live happily and were never considered out of place.  Do not hide under the gay tag to get away with an abusive ship. Being gay doesn’t excuse a person for being an asshole, or for someone to be a pushover. But that’s enough of my ravings against that ship. For the record, I adore Mannimarco as a villain; he’s one the best I’ve ever seen, honestly.  So this isn’t just an unfair rage fest against him.  7.) They never met in Canon Ship? I feel like I have a ship on the tip of my tongue, but it just isn’t coming out. I’m drawing a blank. Nerevar with literally anyone else other than Ayem? 8.)Your unexpected Ship? Lyris and her Redguard husband were a surprise. I usually don’t relate to the warrior types in these games, but these two are just sweethearts.  9.) The Ship you Always Forget to give Love to? Verandis x Trechire. GEEZE, I forget about them so much and it’s probably the most logical ship. Verandis is a vampire lord who wants to convince the world vampires aren’t always evil, and to convince other vampires they shouldn’t live at war with the world. Trechire is a werewolf alpha who hides her wolf self from virtually everyone she knows, save for her pack, who she strives to teach to be true hunters with a code of honor. Not just some hounds who bark crazily at passersby who have a bow in their hands.  Both mages, both Altmer, both famous for their family names, so there’s lots of pressure on them.  They’d have so much to talk about, and would be such a stress reliever to each other.  10.) Ship your OC with a canon character? I already do, that’s like half the ships already in this post.  My biggest one is Laloriaran x Trechire.  Although Trechire x Sheogorath is my canon, as Eliindil becomes Sheogorath, so that counts as a canon character? 11.) Ship you’re embarrassed to Ship? She recently acquired his staff motif in this big event on ESO. He recently traded his old staff design in for the new Chapter, but in the main quest line his character model still has it.  That’s all I’m saying, because I don’t take the ship seriously, but it still exists and fuels my nightmares.  12.)Your most Romantic Ship? Trechire and Eliindil, because Trechire was made by me, Eliindil is an OC made by both me and my fiance who helps flesh out his personality, design, and background.  Then of course Laloriaran and Trechire.... 13.)Your Sexiest Ship? If I don’t say Sheogorath and Trechire, pretty sure I’m getting teleported 50 feet above the stone surface of where I shall die.  14.) Your most Tragic Ship? Laloriaran and Trechire, who ARE in my canon but of course, Laloriaran dies.  In her canon, Trechire completed the events of Morrowind, Clockwork City, and Summerset before the main questline of ESO. She had seen so many friends or just good people die. Leythen being ripped from reality right before her, Darien being forced to sacrifice himself and Trechire reading his last words before him fading away forever. Tanval Indoril dying from his own mistake, Verandis making a stupid decision out of desperation and guilt. Not to mention all the numerous little quests where this innocent and complicated person dies or suffers in the end. ESO is vicious. She had witnessed so much death, and in Laloriaran’s eyes she saw someone who understood that pain. More than anything in the world, she wanted the last Ayleid to return to Tamriel, where he’d be among friends that wouldn’t count on him for survival, but live and thrive together. She made a promise in her heart, if ANYONE would survive, even at the cost of her own life, Trechire would see to it that Laloriaran did, be it as a lover or as a friend.  And in the end, he died in her arms, Trechire a healer who could offer nothing to save him.  15.) A Ship You want more Content For? Again, BRING ON THE VANUS WITH S/O AND SOTHA SIL WITH S/O, PLEASE. 

[tenecity]

for love series

—❝ 你存在我深深的脑海里 (you exist deep in my mind) ❞

Ziyi and Xukun, Xukun and Ziyi. That’s how it’s been. Inseparable.

When Xukun managed to get into the same prestigious school as Ziyi, he was completely over the moon. For the past year or two, he had been so lonely, walking back home by himself, idling at the balcony, staring at the stars in the deep of the night, wondering if Ziyi was looking at the same moon.

His mother had told him, exasperatingly, that he needed to grow out of this. Grow out of forever tagging along with Ziyi. But since young, his hand was permanently holding on to the elder boy’s hand, or tugging at the edge of the other’s crisp shirt, completely inseparable. Old habits die hard.

Ziyi was like his protector, protecting him from the other boys who jeered and made fun of the small boy, always whispering comforting words into Xukun’s ear. Ziyi was like his best friend, being there for him all the time, forever by his side, never leaving him, the gentle, kind face never fading. Ziyi was his support, holding him, giving him a shoulder to cry on when he got bullied in school, the soothing strokes of the hand always enough to calm the storm in him.

And then one day, Ziyi became his lover. Or rather, it was more like a crush. Xukun honestly doesn’t know when he started to love Ziyi, but he knows that he fell slowly and surely, spiraling deeper into the abyss. It was in the small things. 

Like how Ziyi always stretches out his hand and comfortably intertwines his fingers with Xukun’s when they walk to school. Like how Ziyi likes to call him “sunshine”. Like how Ziyi always presses a fluttering kiss on his forehead whenever he sends him home. Like how he could just imagine how Ziyi looks like when he talks over the phone, all the expressions of his conveyed through his mere words and tone.

But he has never told Ziyi that he loved him. Especially since Ziyi already has a boyfriend.

White, hot anger surged in Xukun when he saw the man, walking in, dazzling and striking, hand in hand with Ziyi, his Ziyi. It’s a good thing his mother restrained him before he could claw at the guest, otherwise, who knows what the consequences would be.

“Do you not like that guest?” His mother had soothingly asked him, eyes gentle, soft, full of concern.

Xukun vigorously nodded his head.

And his mother merely sighed.

She must have spoken with Ziyi, because the next day, Ziyi asks him the same question, the same concern that he saw in his mother, reflected in the elder’s eyes. “But why, Kun? I mean-” 

“I just don’t like him, ok?” He brings his knees up to his chest, tears already threatening to fall. “Ge, can you break up with him, please? I really don’t like him. I hate it when he is around, when he is around you. 

“Remember what you said, when we were little? You belonged to me, and I belonged to you. You can’t just break that promise, right?” The last few words come out small and vulnerable. Silence follows and fear slips into his heart. Perhaps he was too demanding?

But then, the edges of his mouth immediately pull up when he feels a ruffle of his hair and a fleeting kiss on the top of his head, sealing the promise.

Afterwards, the man was gone, and he never came back. Xukun smiles at that thought. Ziyi always listens to what he says, always giving in to him. 

—

Now, things aren’t turning out as well as Xukun expected it to be. It’s highschool after all. New friends, new teachers, new environment, more work, longer hours, more work. Rushing around this big place with a maze of corridors and his mind so preoccupied with schoolwork, he could not even think about Ziyi, much less text him to meet up with him. He has seen glimpses of the other boy, but in a flash he is gone. Perhaps Ziyi is also busy; I mean, being in the basketball team is sure to be demanding.

As Xukun turns a corner, skidding past a teacher, he screeches to a halt and he stops dead in his tracks when he sees Ziyi, happily laughing with some other people. Friends who are not him, people who aren’t him. And Ziyi looks so happy. 

Something snaps in Xukun, as if he realises something, and a sour, dreadful, sinking feeling is released, and it spreads in him, growing in volume as he mulls over the matter over the next couple of days.

—

Fingers tap impatiently on his phone screen. He had texted Ziyi 24 hours ago, and yet, there is no response. Was Ziyi avoiding him? I mean, he didn’t even call to check in on him when he first arrived, he doesn’t even seem to know that Xukun is in his high school. Annoyance evident on his face, he grabs the jacket and snatches his phone, door slamming on his way out.

He reaches the junior’s dorm and asks some of the students there, but none of them have seem to see Ziyi, all shaking their head when he tells them the name. He rushes down the corridors, looking into all the pantries, but no Ziyi is in sight. Slight panic rises as he bursts out into the entrance, frantically looking left and right, hoping to just catch of glimpse of—

And there he is, the angelic boy, sitting on one of the benches, looking as serene as ever, the moonlight almost making his skin glow. Xukun trudges over, tapping lightly on the other man’s shoulder.

“Xukun?” The boy says it almost nonchalantly, not the least bit surprised at the younger boy’s appearance.

“Ge~” Xukun whines as he wraps his arms around the other, snuggling into the other’s chest, anger dissipated at the sight of the elder. “You didn’t even call or text to check up on me.”

“I’m really sorry Kun, I’ve just been so busy.” The elder mumbles into Xukun’s fluffy hair, twirling the locks idly, looking fondly at the other. His voice, like an echo, soothing, silky, gentle, like a glossy river, flowing forever.

Xukun frowns as he sees a couple breezing past them, twinkling laughter light in the air. “Are you…”

“Am I dating?” Ziyi takes a step back and frowns slightly, hand absentmindedly brushing away the locks covering Xukun’s clear eyes.

“No, of course not Kunkun…. Remember our promise? You belong to me and I belong to you. Of course I haven’t dated.

I was waiting for you.” 

Eyes fluttering close, Xukun enjoys the sweet, lingering taste of the chapped lips that are pressed against his, taking in the floral perfume of Ziyi’s. 

Because finally, finally, they can be together.

China is still pretty conservative, so I guess it is normal for people to stare at a gay couple. Xukun brushes off their stares and doesn’t give a damn as he holds onto Ziyi’s hand firmly. Ziyi, too, seems unfazed by it all, peppering kisses onto Xukun’s face, dissolving the other into a puddle of giggles as Xukun squirms out of Ziyi’s hold.

Xukun would proudly say theirs is a perfect relationship. They never fought, they never argued, they never disagreed much. They loved each other deeply and cared for each other well. Ziyi would always be seen idling outside Xukun’s classroom, waiting to pick him up, smile immediately appearing on his face when Xukun clings onto his arm. 

Xukun would always been seen outside Ziyi’s dorm, pillows and whatnot held in his arms as he crawls into the bed, falling soundly asleep in the protective arms of Ziyi.

Xukun enjoys their kisses the most, The soft, delectable lips pressed against his, always leaving fluttering, fleeting kisses and bites and wet swipes of the tongue, stirring a desire in Xukun to want more. Ziyi loves to kiss Xukun’s neck, kisses trailing down, causing whimpers and soft pleas to leave the younger’s lips, as he lightly nips on the pale skin. They always get weird, almost disgusted looks from their roommates, but, well, how can he resist those plump, soft lips?

—

Prom floats around the corner, and of course, Ziyi is here to fetch him. He looks gorgeous, clad in all black, a red rose, just withering slightly at the edges, tucked neatly at his breast pocket, his hand beautifully extending out towards Xukun as he kisses the top of the other’s hand, leading him down the stairs of the front of Xukun’s house. Xukun waves the worried looks on his parent’s face, happily bouncing into the car, so ready for this prom.

Music surrounds them as they both sway to the music, Xukun’s arms wound their way around Ziyi’s neck, and the elder’s hands placed firmly on his boyfriend’s hips, both of them whispering sweet nothings to each other. Xukun closes his eyes, drowning himself in the light touches of his boyfriend, the whispers that float past his ears like the wind, the music that whirls around him, giving him a lingering, sweet feeling.

And then, the lights are switched off. And then, the music abruptly stops.

Bang, bang. Gunshots are the only thing left ringing in his ears. 

And everything goes black.

—

White ceiling. White walls, white wards. That is the only thing that registers in Xukun’s mind when he opens his eyes. He attempts to prop himself up, but winces and crashes back down onto the bed, sinking into the soft material, groaning at the sharp pain at his side. The nurse immediately rushes to his side and helps to lift the bed up, asking him a series of questions that he vaguely answers.

The doctors rush in soon after, checking up on him, before clearing that everything was okay, giving his friends and family the signal to come in and visit him. Tears trickle down his parent’s faces as they hug him close, grateful that the school shooting didn’t rob them of their son; his friends all looking relieved that he had pulled through.

“Mum, mum!” His eyes widen at a sudden thought, panic rising as his voice increases in volume.

“What is it?” She sniffles out, wiping her tears, concern written all over her face.

“Where’s Ziyi?”

“...Ziyi?”

“Ziyi! Wang Ziyi!” He turns frantically to his friends, who look surprised and puzzled. “Ziyi! The guy I was dancing with at prom.”

Silence stretches between all of them, the doctor shifts his glasses up his nose, looking intently at the frantic young boy.

“But Xukun,” One of his friends break the silence, tone loaded with questions, and a touch of fear.

“You weren’t dancing with anyone at prom.”

—

“It is evident, Mr and Mrs Cai, that his schizophrenia is getting worse. It seems, like his hallucinations stem from, what did you say Mrs Cai, ah yes, his imaginary friend that he created when he was younger. Look here, this part of the brain,” The doctor says as he circles a part of the scan, “controls the imaginations and dreams of a person and it seems to me, a tad bit too active. 

“In fact, it looks like he can no longer differentiate what is reality and what isn’t. The lines are blurring for him, and, I regret to inform you, that there is no cure for this.

“My only recommendation, sir and madam, is to send him to the mental institute. They have the expertise for this area, and can provide him the best care possible. 

“If you are willing, I can transfer this case to some colleagues I have over their, who are well-versed in this area, and completely experienced in handling such serious cases.”

—

When Xukun arrives at the institute, he is just a slight bit disoriented. 

He has been told, that apparently, Ziyi was an imaginary character, not someone real. That everything they had together, was just a fleeting dream. 

No, its not true, it can’t be true. He had screamed in the doctor’s face, hot tears flooding down his face. Handcuffs had clicked and he couldn’t move around without a bodyguard for the next couple of days. It was horrible.

So Xukun has learnt. He pretends. He tells them, Ziyi never existed, he knows. But sometimes it is too much, and it lets a slip, and the doctor, with those dark, piercing eyes knows that he is lying.

Which is why, now he has to go to some weird place where apparently everyone else is exactly like him. Disoriented, sick, mentally unstable and have to be isolated in order to be cured. Ridiculous.

He steps into the building, eyes wandering as they take in the magnificent architecture. The high ceilings with glass panes shine different shades of blue onto the marble floor and Xukun stares at the intricate designs, completely entranced.

—

“Ah, you must be the patient Dr. Lin transferred to me.” Xukun’s head snaps up and they narrow at the strangely familiar figure.

“Hi, I’m Dr Wang, but you can just call me Ziyi. I’m your doctor for your stay here. 

What’s your name, sunshine?”

I told you, he existed.

But only in your mind, sunshine. 

And then, everything goes black.

[recentanimenews]

Bookshelf Briefs 11/16/20

A Bride’s Story, Vol. 12 | By Kaoru Mori | Yen Press – Being at a yearly schedule for this series is bad, but it could be worse: Yotsuba&! seems to come out every 3-4 years. The best part of this volume sees Mr. Smith and Talas meeting up with Anis and Sherine, a married couple that, as before, remains defined by the lack of husband in their lives. He’s there, to be sure, but this may as well be a yuri couple for all the emotional beats. Also, learning how to write everyone’s name is very awesome and cathartic. Elsewhere, Karluk is reminded that everyone has different skill sets, and Pariya has to deal with unexpectedly being on her own. The “plot” of the series barely exists, and I’m not sure it will last till Karluk comes of age. But it’s peaceful and the art is gorgeous. – Sean Gaffney

Cherry Magic!: Thirty Years of Virginity Can Make You a Wizard?!, Vol. 1 | By Yuu Toyota | Square Enix – With a title and conceit like Cherry Magic!, I’ll admit I wasn’t expecting much from the series, so I was delighted to encounter a surprisingly charming and lighthearted first volume. After turning thirty without experiencing so much as a first kiss, Adachi finds that he can now read people’s minds when he physically touches them. The ability can occasionally be helpful, but in general he tries to avoid using it. Things take an awkward turn when he bumps into his coworker Kurosawa, inadvertently learning he’s been hiding a crush on him. Kurosawa is a popular and nice enough guy, but Adachi, being romantically inexperienced, isn’t quite sure what he should do with his newfound knowledge—especially considering that Kurosawa hasn’t actually mentioned anything about liking him yet. Cherry Magic! is a silly but sweet romantic comedy; I had fun reading it and would happily read more. -Ash Brown

Farming Life in Another World, Vol. 1 | By Kinosuke Naito and Yasuyuki Tsurugi | One Peace Books – If you liked everything about In Another World with My Smartphone but wish that the magical smartphone had been replaced with a magical farming tool, have I got a series for you. Most of the plot beats are even the same, although Hiraki manages to get it on with most of his wives a good 20 or so volumes before Touya. Despite that last sentence, those who are buying this for the “snu snu” will not be happy—it’s far more interested in the farming, as well as his accumulation of wolves, spiders, and brides. I’m honestly not unhappy that we only got the manga version of this—I suspect it would be tedious in prose. As it is, it’s perfectly good slow-life isekai with a farming bent. – Sean Gaffney

Himouto! Umaru-chan, Vol. 11 | By Sankakuhead | Seven Seas – This is the penultimate volume of the original series, though I understand there are several spinoffs. That said, there’s nothing here indicating that we’re headed for a big finish or climax. Which makes sense—this is not really that kind of series. It does show us how Umaru and Ebina met, which is as cutesy as it sounds. Indeed, cutesy is the watchword for every single chapter. Even the sibling relationship friction, which was what drove many of the early volumes, seems to have been dialed way back as they’re mostly getting along now. It’s a good sign that the series should be wrapping up, really, and so it is. That said, if you love Umaru-chan, this should make you happy. – Sean Gaffney

Revolutionary Girl Utena: After the Revolution | By Chihi Saito | Viz Media – I am, to put it mildly, not a fan of the original Utena manga. So I was initially incredibly uninterested in this 20-years-later single-volume afterword. That said, it does not seem to even take place in the same universe—it feels like Saito was told to make this an anime sequel more than a manga sequel. Good news, this means Juri is gay again. Not surprisingly, I found the Juri/Shiori/Ruka story the most interesting, though I still hate Ruka more than the creators want me to. Elsewhere, Touga and Saionji turn into Scooby Doo investigators, and Miki and Kaoru are still really into incestual subtext. I still prefer Artistic Veggie Platters as an Utena continuation, but this is OK. – Sean Gaffney

Teasing Master Takagi-san, Vol. 10 | By Soichiro Yamamoto | Yen Press – The “future” chapter showing Nishikata and Takagi married and having a daughter was wildly popular with readers. We don’t get another in the series here—by this point there was a spinoff all its own to take care of that—but we do see an older Chi in middle school, trying to be what her mother was with the guy she likes and failing miserably. It’s pretty adorable. As for the actual cast, they pet dogs, go fishing, eat candy, and make everyone think they are the most sickeningly sweet couple you’ll ever meet without actually being a couple. There’s no “plot advancing” chapters here, but there’s lots of cuteness, and Takagi is the most likeable of the “teasing” girls we see a lot of these days. – Sean Gaffney

That Blue Summer, Vol. 8 | By Atsuko Namba | Kodansha Comics (digital only) – Rio’s days in the tranquil village of Ueko are coming to an end. She has ended things with Ginzo because it was too hard, knowing they could never be together long-term, and tries to put on a brave face about going back home to Tokyo. But once she gets there and tries to move on, it’s clear she’s just going through the motions. I really liked that I wasn’t sure that the main couple would actually end up together, and also that the romance between a couple of side characters wasn’t just filler but a way to put things into perspective for Rio. What I liked most, though, is why Ginzo loves Rio—she’s the one who encouraged him to embrace his passion for graphic design, who created opportunities for him that boosted his confidence. This has been one of my favorites of the Kodansha digital-only shoujo offerings! – Michelle Smith

Yoshi no Zuikara: The Frog in the Well Does Not Know the Ocean, Vol. 1 | By Satsuki Yoshino | Yen Press – Despite my good intentions, I have yet to read Barakamon. And so I must ask… is this what Barakamon is like?! ‘Cos it’s good as hell! Naruhiko Tohno is a struggling manga artist who still lives in the remote village in which he was born and raised. He’s been writing fantasy manga for ten years and isn’t exactly gung-ho when his editor suggests he try writing rural slice-of-life instead, but it ends up selling far more than his previous series. I definitely enjoyed the segments about Tohno and his life growing up, particularly the obvious links between his middle-school friends and classmates and the characters in his manga, but I’m a little sad that we don’t spend more time with the characters in his manga, because they were totally charming, too. Guess I gotta go read everything in English by Yoshino-sensei now! – Michelle Smith

Yowamushi Pedal, Vol. 15 | By Wataru Watanabe | Yen Press – I mentioned as I was reading this that it’s astonishing that Watanabe has not turned his hand to horror manga, given everything about Midousuji in this volume, which is simply mind-numbingly creepy. That said, wow, he’s a good cyclist, and he likely will help to goad Naruko into becoming more well-rounded. Elsewhere, we learn how difficult it is to find new members who are as good as the old ones—the previous year was unusual, after all—and also not to abandon a potential member just because you judge them at first to be not worth your time. I hope to see more of our new huge son. It did feel weird that this volume did not have a major race in it, but I’m sure that’s coming soon. – Sean Gaffney

By: Ash Brown

[mutant-jojos]

In the spirit of Aggressively Arospec Month, I’ve decided to repost the aro Jotaro fic I wrote back in March. Normally I’d just link the AO3 post, but seeing as Tungle.hell doesn’t let outside links appear in tags anymore, I’ll just post it here. It’s short enough, anyway.

This is a very personal piece that was written very hastily, partly as a vent fic, and partly out of bitterness that the one (1) fic in the aromantic tag for JJBA at the time was about Polnareff having a one-sided crush on Kakyoin. It may not be the best fic in the world, but I hope it at least helps someone understand what it’s like to be aromantic. Please don’t forget about us.

Rating: M (Swearing, mentions of sexual stuff) Words: 2,212 Characters: Jotaro and Kakyoin Pairings: NONE Content warnings: Internalized arophobia, whatever the hell you would call mentions of fucking anthropomorphic trains (...it makes more sense in context I swear)

Jotaro lay on his side on his bed, a book in one hand, the other absent-mindedly petting Star Platinum (who was happily gnawing on a sock). On the floor in mostly disassembled heap was Kakyoin, scrolling through his phone with his one intact hand, reading Wikipedia or looking at post-modern surrealist memes or whatever it was Kakyoin did online anyway.

To an outsider, it might have seemed like they were ignoring each other and thus being bad friends, but it was quite the opposite. It was their ideal type of “hanging out”- just enjoying each other’s company, with the freedom to pursue their own interests, and no pressure to interact or search for some sort of compromise instead of doing what they each wanted to do. And besides, they did occasionally engage in conversation, just not to an unnecessary extent.

“Hey,” Kakyoin broke the silence, tilting his head back to look at Jotaro. “If you could play any obscure video game, what would it be?”

Jotaro snorted. “I don’t think I even know any obscure games. I’m not a dorito gremlin like you,” he teased.

“Oh, come on. There’s gotta be at least something weird you’ve always wanted to play,” Kakyoin prodded, smirking slightly.

Jotaro put his book down for a moment as he thought about it, trying to recall any video games that sounded interesting.

“I don’t know… I guess, maybe… Earthbound,” he decided. “Dunno what it’s about exactly, but I heard it’s kinda fucked up. And I guess you get to hit things with a baseball bat, so that’s cool.”

Kakyoin nodded. “I think the plot is like… Zelda, but it’s South Park, and designed to break your spirit,” he described vaguely.

“Oh, in that case I take it back. South Park is obnoxious.”

“It’s not literally South Park,” Kakyoin corrected him. “Just, you know, it’s like grade schoolers from the city doing fucked up shit… or… Look, I’ve never played it, I don’t know,” he admitted finally.

“Well then you shouldn’t have asked me to pick an obscure game,” Jotaro pointed out. “Anyway, I know you only asked so you could tell me about something, so go ahead.”

“I want to play the Fullmetal Alchemist video games,” Kakyoin said resolutely. Clearly, Jotaro had been correct.

Jotaro raised an eyebrow in surprise. “I didn’t know it had video games.”

“Yeah, there’s a couple,” Kakyoin replied. “They’re kind of hard to find these days, so I’ve never managed to get one, but I’ve wanted to play them for a while. I heard there’s one where Ed dies,” he added with a slow, wide-eyed nod, as if sharing some controversial rumor.

“That makes no sense. He’s the protagonist, he can’t die,” Jotaro said with a confused frown.

“I think he like, gets stabbed or something, and then he comes back to life…”

“...Isn’t like, the entire point of the series that people can’t come back from the dead? Like, I’m pretty sure they made that clear in episode 1,” Jotaro pointed out, even more confused.

“I know, it makes no sense. Which is why I totally want to see it,” Kakyoin laughed. “Ed was my first crush, you know.”

Jotaro went quiet for several seconds.

“...Al’s better,” Jotaro mumbled after a while.

“Oh, so Al was your Fullmetal crush?” Kakyoin teased.

Jotaro frowned in disgust. That was not what he’d meant.

“No.”

“Really? Then why are you blushing?” Kakyoin countered with a knowing smirk.

“Because it’s an embarrassing question, now leave me alone,” Jotaro growled, pulling his hat down over his face. The conversation was quickly becoming something Jotaro did not wish to discuss.

“Alright,” Kakyoin gave in, sounding slightly apologetic. “Answer me one question, though.”

“What is it?”

“Who was your first crush?” Kakyoin asked curiously.

Oh no.

Oh no. Shit. Fuck. Oh no. Why did Kakyoin have to ask that question? How the hell was Jotaro supposed to answer that? It wasn’t like he could just say he’d never had one, what kind of 18-year-old had never had a crush? Jotaro realized he’d have to make something up. He petted Star Platinum nervously as he went through mental lists of people, trying to pick someone that sounded reasonable for him to be attracted to.

“...R-Rosalind Franklin,” he decided after a minute, and then mentally kicked himself for being so hasty with his answer. Rosalind Franklin? Really?

“Ok, that’s a lie,” Kakyoin replied.

Jotaro’s eyes widened in horror. “What… what makes you say that,” he deadpanned. He briefly considered stopping time and just leaving, but that would only increase Kakyoin’s suspicions.

“For one thing, you sounded really uncertain and kind of like you were just making that up. And besides, aren’t you gay?” Kakyoin explained.

“Uh.” Was Jotaro gay?

Probably, he thought. It seemed like a reasonable conclusion. How could he be so foolish as to forget he was, evidently, gay? Damn you, Rosalind Franklin.

“What’s up with you? You’re being weirdly dodgy about this,” Kakyoin pointed out, frowning slightly. “Is there something you’re afraid to tell me?”

Jotaro didn’t respond; he didn’t know how to. He was completely backed into a corner. Out of options, he adjusted his hat again, and sighed before reluctantly answering.

“I’m fucked up, Kakyoin,” he said quietly.

“I know, but what’s that have to do with anything?” Kakyoin asked gently.

“I don’t get crushes. I just don’t. I don’t think I can,” Jotaro explained, running his fingers along the brim of his hat nervously. “I don’t even really know what a crush is supposed to feel like. Hell, I thought romance was fake until like, last year,” he added with an anxious laugh.

Kakyoin gave him a confused, slightly worried look. “What do you mean, fake? You thought people only pretend to get married and all that? Jotaro, that makes no sense.”

Jotaro shook his head. “No, not exactly, like… Back in middle school I’d see all these kids dating and shit, and I always thought ‘Oh, they don’t really like each other. Nobody gets those kinds of feelings at this age. They’re just imitating what they see on TV.’ And I guess I just kinda kept thinking that without realizing it, until I was like 17 and then it finally hit me that… It’s just me, I’m the weird one,” he finished with a sigh.

“Oh… I see,” Kakyoin said with a slow, careful nod, as if thinking carefully about Jotaro’s confession. “Um… Sorry I pressured you like that. That was wrong of me,” he admitted apologetically, looking away.

Jotaro gave a little shrug, and pretended to go back to reading his book- though really, his heart was racing too much to pay attention to it. He pulled Star Platinum close to his chest, and held the odd creature like a cat as he tried to calm down, or at least to look calm. Kakyoin had returned to his phone and seemed determined about whatever he was doing, and his lack of real reaction to Jotaro’s confession worried Jotaro. Was Kakyoin angry at him?

The minutes passed in agonizing silence, the only sounds being the ticking of the clock on the wall, the gentle gurgling of the fish tank filter, and the occasional electronic clacking of Kakyoin typing on his phone. As Star Platinum chewed on the sleeve of Jotaro’s hoodie, Jotaro found himself regretting everything he’d said in the past 5 minutes. And then regretting everything he had said ever, in his entire life. He regretted his whole existence. He felt like he’d just ruined his only friendship by admitting just how weird he really was. And sure, he had a laundry list of issues that had never bothered Kakyoin, but surely Kakyoin had to have a limit, right? He wasn’t talking to him, so Jotaro must have finally found the breaking point. This was it. It was all over. Jotaro had fucked up, all because he… didn’t have a crush on Alphonse Elric? Was that the original topic? It didn’t matter. Friendship was dead and so was Jotaro. Happiness was a lie and all roads led to anxiety.

“Hey, are you ok?” Kakyoin asked, breaking Jotaro’s train of thought.

“What,” Jotaro responded flatly, feeling slightly confused. By his side, Star Platinum squeaked and wiggled around in an attempt to escape Jotaro’s too-tight hug.

“You look like you’re kinda freaking out,” Kakyoin informed him sympathetically, as Star Platinum finally managed to slip free, and ran to his bed.

“I’m fine,” Jotaro replied hastily.

“You don’t look fine.”

“Yes.”

“Yes?”

Jotaro gave Kakyoin a slow, awkward thumbs up. Clearly the epitome of composure.

Kakyoin frowned worriedly. “Hey, look, I’m not mad at you or anything, I promise. It’s perfectly ok with me that you don’t like anyone,” he assured Jotaro.

“...Are you sure?” Jotaro questioned hesitantly.

“Jojo, you’d still be my best friend even if you were exclusively attracted to anthropomorphic trains,” Kakyoin promised, with a slight laugh.

“Why the fuck would I be into that?” Jotaro exclaimed in disgust, sitting up abruptly.

“I dunno, there seem to be a surprising amount of people who want to fuck Thomas the Tank Engine gijinkas,” Kakyoin replied with a shrug.

Jotaro shuddered. “Please, never say that sentence ever again.”

“Gladly,” Kakyoin agreed.

Kakyoin reformed his body, his unravelled arms and legs pulling together like a retracting yo-yo to return to a human shape, and then sat down at the foot of the bed.

“So I looked up some stuff, and… Forgive me if I’m jumping to conclusions, but from what you said it sounds like you might be aromantic,” he began seriously.

Jotaro frowned at him confusedly. “No, I just said I don’t do romance,” he reiterated, misunderstanding Kakyoin’s statement.

“Not ‘a romantic’, aromantic,” Kakyoin corrected him. “‘A’ as in ‘without’.”

“What’s that?”

“It’s like… supposedly there’s two types of attraction- Ok no, there’s actually more than that, but like as far as dating and all that goes there’s two: romantic attraction and sexual attraction,” Kakyoin began his explanation. “Romantic attraction is all the kissing and getting married and I love yous and all that-” (Jotaro rolled his eyes in disgust) “-And sexual attraction is fairly self-explanatory.”

“Makes sense,” Jotaro said, and looked at Kakyoin expectantly, waiting for him to get to the point.

“So someone who’s aromantic might experience sexual attraction, but not romantic attraction,” Kakyoin finished.

Jotaro paused for a moment to think about this. It certainly seemed logical, sure, but…

“That’s just hypothetical, though,” he decided.

Kakyoin raised an eyebrow. “Well… Sure, I guess you could look at it that way, but most sociological stuff is pretty hypothetical by definition,” he pointed out.

“Yeah, but people like that don’t really exist,” Jotaro insisted.

“Of course they do,” Kakyoin argued.

Jotaro gave him an unconvinced look. “So you’re telling me that there are people out there other than me who have never liked anyone, aren’t going to like anyone, and aren’t just royally fucked up in the head?” he repeated sarcastically.

“That’s exactly what I’ve been saying this whole time, yeah,” Kakyoin answered, trying his best to be patient but still sounding ever so slightly irritated.

Jotaro shook his head. “I don’t buy it. That just doesn’t happen to other people.”

“And how would you know, anyway?” Kakyoin countered, to Jotaro’s surprise. “You only have six people you talk to on a regular basis, I swear you leave the house like once every time Halley’s comet comes around, and you don’t use social media much either,” he pointed out. “If all the women in the world shaved their heads, you wouldn’t notice unless it was mentioned in a scientific journal.”

Damn.

“...Fine, I guess you have a point,” Jotaro admitted reluctantly.

Maybe Kakyoin was right. Maybe there was more to it than just Jotaro’s mental health issues. Really, it wasn’t like he wanted to be alone; he’d just grown up so surrounded by romance that he found it hard to believe that there could be anyone out there who felt the same way he did.

But maybe… maybe he wasn’t so broken after all.

Kakyoin gave Jotaro a gentle nudge.

“Besides… Even if you’re the only one in the world, that doesn’t mean there’s anything wrong with you. You don’t have to like anyone. It’s ok,” he promised, gentle yet persistent.

Jotaro stared at Kakyoin for a minute, not sure what to say. He wasn’t really one to express his emotions much, but… Somehow, hearing those words felt like he’d finally found something he’d been searching for his whole life, without even knowing it. Like something was finally going right.

“...Thanks,” he said quietly, and he meant it.

Kakyoin smiled in response, looking almost proud. “Of course.”

“Hey… Don’t mention this to anyone, ok?” Jotaro added as an afterthought. While it was nice that Kakyoin accepted him, the last thing he needed was Joseph “New Crush Every Month” Joestar getting on his back about things.

“Sure,” Kakyoin agreed.

“Thanks,” Jotaro repeated once again. Hesitantly, he reached for Kakyoin’s hand, a quiet, shy gesture of affection.

Kakyoin responded by moving in close to Jotaro’s side, leaning his head against Jotaro. Jotaro sighed contentedly and put an arm around Kakyoin’s shoulders.

“Want to watch a movie?” Kakyoin suggested.

“Yeah.”

Maybe things weren’t so bad after all.

[askjssterling-blog]

Bonjour, Paris // Jeffbastian

Who: Jeff Sterling and Sebastian Smythe ( @ask-slybastiansmythe ) What: Their first day in Paris When: Saturday the 26th of February, all day Where: Paris, France Notes: Because we suck, we managed to lose the first part of this para, but basically it was just Jeff and Sebastian arriving in Paris, going to Sebastian’s grandmother’s café (where she thought Jeff was her grandson’s boyfriend and they ate some pretty delicious sandwiches) and then going on a tour bus to start their sight seeing. It picks up after their bus stopped by the Eiffel Tower. There’s just a lot of playfulness and friends bonding. If anyone knows how to retrieve thins from a chatzy, we would appreciate the help and get the whole para.

Sebastian grinned, "And I'm glad that I can get you out of those main touristy places. Not that those are awful, but, you know. It's nice to be able to take you to the places you probably wouldn't have seen if you weren't with me. There's some really little places that I loved when I was here," he smiled. "It's not quite ​ all ​ the way up, but its's far enough up it doesn't even matter at that point," he laughed, looking up at the Tower in front of them.

Jeff laughed "It's always nice to see the little undiscovered places, but first I want to be a cliche and see everything that comes in those guides." Jeff shrugged with a wide smile. "Pretty good for me." he started to walk in front of Sebastian, going as fast as his injury allowed "C'mon, we haven't got all day!"

Sebastian nodded. "Paris is great, but it's the little bars, clubs, cafes, and shops that are the real gems of the city," he smiled. Laughing, Sebastian caught up to Jeff easily walking beside him to get their tickets and then to get on the lifts that would take them up to the viewing areas. "You don't have a fear of heights do you?"

Jeff hummed "I am probably not in the best shape to go to a club, but we could get a drink at the bar. Must be nice to not use your fake ID to get a drink around here." Jeff smiled softly as Sebastian quickly caught up to him, quickly playing for them when Sebastian asked for the tickets. "What? I didn't pay lunch and I am making you suffer through tourist lines, let me pay this one at least." he shrugged with a soft smile before getting in line. "If I did, I wouldn't be this excited to go up there, right?" he raised a brow playfully.

Sebastian smiled, "They have really nice and small bars. I think a bunch of old writers used to go to them to write and talk and whatnot," he said. "This place was the place to be in the 20's," he told him. "Fine, you can get the tickets," he nodded, letting Jeff pay before they got on the lift to start going up. "Fair point," he chuckled.

Jeff nodded "Yeah, I can imagine. Specially at night, with the lamps on, sitting outside. I love the vibe." he smiled "Can you imagine the work this took to build?" Jeff said as he looked through the windows of the lift, taking a few pictures of the metal structure. When the elevator stopped, Jeff got out, immediately going to the viewing windows. "This is so cool..." he said with a wide smile as he looked out at the city of Paris.

Sebastian "It's such a beautiful city. It's like it just glows," he said, looking around. "And then there's all these tourists who think they own the place," he mumbled, rolling his eyes fondly. "I can't imagine it. I don't even know where you would begin to build something like that," he shook his head, following Jeff out of the lift and grinning. "I'm not sure it gets better than this view."

Jeff smiled "I can finally see why you never shut up about it. It really is beautiful." Jeff had to agree with Sebastian. Paris is indeed a beautiful city, and living there must be really amazing. "There's tourists like that everywhere. Even in San Diego, it was horrible." he chuckled, taking another picture. He went around the level they were in, looking at the signs and trying to find out all the special monuments from all the way up there, until he found the stairs that lead to the last floor "These are going to be a bitch to go up and down, but can we?" he asked, ready to go up there.

Sebastian "I do love it here. I'd consider moving back if I hadn't set up a life in the States," he shrugged. "They're even worse here," he said, shaking his head. "It's the reason I never came here much," he laughed. "As long as you think you're going to be okay going up and down them," he nodded, staying behind Jeff.

Jeff listened to Sebastian, nodding along "And you have us in the States. You can take your fancy private jet here whenever you want." he joked with a smile "It 's what you get when you live in one of the busiest capitals in the world." he chuckled "I guess I need the knee workout since I'm skipping therapy, no?" he chuckled, slowly making his way up. He ha to stop at the top, biting his lip as he rubbed the side of his knee. It was just from the effort, and the wind hitting his face up there made it better. "I'm okay." he said quickly, not wanting to alarm Sebastian. He moved away from where he was leaning against to walk to the wire, where he could clearly see the entire city "Woah."

Sebastian chuckled, "this is true. My friends are back in the states too," he nodded. "I do want to try and come back here more often though," he said. "See Grandma more and all," he looked around the view and took a deep breath. He had missed it a lot, realizing it even more now that he was back. "Well I suppose this is a good alternative to therapy," he laughed with a nod. Sebastian looked at him and nodded, smiling when they reached the next level. "Right?"

Jeff nodded "Yeah, and I guess at least until you graduate, you'll have to stick around the states." he chuckled "Yeah, I'm sure she'll love to have you around more often." he smiled softly. "I guess. But I get a knee massage these, so I'm still pondering." he gave him a soft smile, before looking out the horizon. "It's pretty beautiful." he nodded in agreement, picking up his camera to snap a few pictures.

Sebastian "Yeah, more than I'd like, at least. I don't mind the states, but I miss the traveling and here," he said. "It's been weird not getting to see her as often," Sebastian nodded, smiling softly at Jeff. "Is that your way of asking me for a knee massage?" He laughed, walking around the level they were on. "Do you want me to take a picture of you?"

Jeff "You can always tell her to visit you, too. Change it up a bit." he suggested with a smile. Jeff laughed "No, I don't know you would know what to do, it's not an erotic massage." he joked "But I guess that sandwich was good enough to make up for it." he laughed, before nodding "Yeah, but be careful, it's my child." he took his camera from around his neck and placed it around Sebastian's, before leaning by the railings and smiling for the camera.

Sebastian "I know she wants to come to visit sometime," Sebastian nodded. He knew his grandmother couldn't travel as easily as his family could, but he was hoping that she would come to visit sometime. "Hey! I could figure out how to give a non erotic massage. I think," he laughed. "Ready?" He asked before taking a couple pictures of Jeff, making sure not to damage the camera in any way.

Jeff nodded "She needs to practice her English, too." Jeff laughed "I know, but I don't think I want unknowing hands touching my injury." he shook his head fondly. He gave Sebastian a thumbs up and a smile as he was ready, changing his position every other picture, poking his tongue out or doing the peace sign with a laugh. He stepped closer to Sebastian, getting his camera back "You want a few, too?" he asked

Sebastian "It's the perfect plan, really," he nodded with a smile. It'd be a great way for her to practice her English," he agreed. "You know my hands," he teased, winking at Jeff. Sebastian laughed at Jeff's posses and shrugged. "Sure why not?" he said, walking to where Jeff was, handing Jeff the camera so he could take pictures.

Jeff smiled, nodding "And once she does, remember her to bring back more of those sandwiches" Jeff laughed at what Sebastian said, shaking his head "You know what I meant, asshole." he bumped their shoulders together before getting his camera back, taking a few pictures of Sebastian and the Parisian skyline. "This is really fun up here, you can see the entire city... it's gorgeous." he said after a while.

Sebastian laughed. "You are addicted to those sandwiches, aren't you?" he grinned. "But that's pretty understandable," he nodded happily. "Hey!" Sebastian chuckled, loving the banter that went on between them all the time. "And you know what I meant," he said, bumping him back. "It's the best view. You can see so much from up here," he nodded, pointing a couple of things out to him.

Jeff shrugged with a laugh "They're pretty good, you can't blame me." The sandwiches were pretty good, he had to be honest. "You're lucky you're cool." he joked. It was fun to joke around like this with Sebastian, knowing it was just that, playful banter. This trip wouldn't be as fun if they didn't have that kind of friendship. Jeff looked at all the places Sebastian was pointing at, excited to see some up close later.

Sebastian "I admit. I'm pretty addicted to them too," he laughed, nodding. "I don't know if better sandwiches exist," he smiled. If he could forever eat his grandmother's sandwiches and nothing but them, Sebastian would be happy with that. "Why else would you put up with me?" He laughed, nudging the other. "I'm glad we came here."

Jeff nodded "They are pretty good, it's hard not to be obsessed. I think being in Paris as well adds to the charm, as well." Jeff shrugged with a grin "I need my token attractive gay friend." he joked, before shaking his head "I'm obviously joking." They stayed up there for a little while, until Jeff was satisfied with all the pictures he took. "Next place?" he asked with a smile.

Sebastian "They're my favorite. If I knew how to cook, I would make them all the time," he grinned. Despite his grandmother wanting to teach him to cook, he never felt the need to learn. He always had others cooking for him, so learning himself never seemed like something he needed to do. Sebastian laughed, "Well I'm also good for that," he teased. "Yeah let's head."

Jeff "How are you surviving college if you can't cook?" Jeff raised a brow curiously. Even he had to start cooking basic stuff after leaving Dalton so he could actually live without junk food like the rest of his colleagues. Jeff chuckled "You are. Now let's go." he smiled, slowly making his way to the lower level so they could get the elevator down and continue on with their tour.

Sebastian "Uhm, dining halls and ordering in?" He laughed with a shrug. He did a lot of eating out for a college student. "Also, I can make pasta, so there's that," he grinned at the other.. He followed Jeff back to the bus where they could started heading for the next stop. As they drove, Sebastian pointed out a few other lansmarks for Jeff to see.

Jeff hummed with a smile "I forget Stanford is a fancy college. Dinning halls in San Diego aren't that great, and I cooked quite a bit." he laughed "That's the basis of everything, pasta. As long as you got pasta down, you're good." he chuckled. Driving through the city, Jeff payed attention to everything Sebastian was saying, loving the little things Sebastian told him that he wouldn't get in a tourist book guide.

Sebastian laughed, nodding. "Yeah, our dinning halls are actually decent," he smiled. "We're lucky in that sense, I suppose," he nodded. "Pasta's the best, though. I eat it a lot," he said, looking at him. Sebastian tried to give Jeff the little facts about things that he knew about the city. As they went to the next stop, Sebastian smiled. "Isn't it great?"

Jeff made a face "You're lucky, then. Both because you don't have to cook and you have decent food." he winked playfully "Pasta is so good, I love italian. If I could eat it for every meal, I would" Jeff hummed "It's really cool, thanks for bringing me here, Bas." he gave Sebastian a honest smile.

Sebastian "I don't know what I'd do if we didn't have decent food at Stanford," he laughed. "I guess I'd be ordering a lot of take out," he shrugged. He knew that he should probably learn to cook more, but he struck with not learning for now. "I'm happy to share Paris with you," he smiled.

Jeff "Either die of starvation, or you'd learn how to cook." he joked with a laugh. Jeff grinned, pulling Sebastian into a extra tight hug and kissing the top of his head, just to mess with him "It's a lovely city, thanks!"

Sebastian "I'd probably stave. Let's be honest," Sebastian laughed, shaking his head. "Or maybe I could learn. Who knows," he grinned. Sebastian just patted Jeff on the back softly. "Uhm, yeah, you're welcome," he mumbled, smoothing his hair down from where Jeff kissed it.

Jeff laughed "Yeah, probably. Maybe you'd find out you can actually cook a mean meal." Jeff laughed as he watched Sebastian fix his hair before messing it again with a laugh "Sorry, couldn't help myself." he grinned, before picking up his camera and taking a few more pictures of the scenery.

Sebastian rolled his eyes. "Must you mess up my hair, Jeffery?" He groaned, trying to fix it again. He watched Jeff taking photos and smiled, letting him walk around for a little while. "I forget how much there is to see here," he said, looking at all the different sights around them.

Jeff hummed with a smile, turning back to Sebastian to take a picture of him. "Yeah, and even if the streets all look the same, they don't, and you don't get tired of it." he agreed, just enjoying going through the city.

Sebastian took Jeff to all the different sights of the city, smiling as the sun started to set. "It's the most beautiful at sunset," he said, looking at the river in front of them. "I used to sit along here and just watch the people walk by."

Jeff and Sebastian spent the rest of the day moving around the city, trying to hit all the known spots so Jeff would feel like he actually visited all those famous places around Paris. As the sun started to set, they walked along side the river, Jeff taking this moment to sit down at one of the benches that looked into the river. "Yeah, this is a pretty cool spot. Specially right now, it's beautiful." Jeff agreed, taking a couple of pictures. "I can see why all the writers wanted to be here."

Sebastian loved that he got to walk about the city and seeing the different sights around the city. He looked at Jeff and then back at the river with a smile. "This has been the perfect day, huh?" he asked, just taking it all in. "I love it," he hummed softly, leaning against the railing as they watched the sun set and the city start to light up. "It's like a picture perfect moment."

Jeff hummed in agreement "Yeah, it has. Didn't know Paris would be like this. Guess it is as cliche as everyone says, but that only means you won't get disappointed. I'm actually pleasantly surprised how fun it has been." he looked at the river and the people passing by with a smile, taking a picture every now and then "I'm actually trying to contain myself, or I'll go through my memory cards in like an hour." he laughed, taking a picture of Sebastian by the river.

[mariannemcclain-blog]

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Upon request, here's another fun/humor filled story that's also hot and sexy as well. I lost on the small breast/fat nipple drawing. Don't worry to those that like the naughty parts, they are at the end mixed in with the funny parts. I'm more curvy and portioned but happy with my figure. I know this sounds like an OkCupid profile but bare with me. I jokingly refer to myself as an Alexia Bledel's stunt double if she put on 40 lbs and had freckles. If you beloved this short article and you would like to acquire much more information with regards to free pictures of hairy pussy (grls.pics) kindly check out our own site. Grrrr annnnd moving on. 6hours and a sore back later, we arrived at our hotel. We didn't even get the Ocean View like we were promised. My gene-pool lottery gave me a winning pear shaped body complete with curvy hips and a bouncy cute ass. My two best friends took me on a roadtrip but I didn't want to go. I had a massive headache at this point and going out to drink just did not sound appealing. I exaggerated the headache even more and gave the girls the go-ahead to continue the night without me. We ate an early dinner at the hotel restaurant but my head was still killing me. Instead, we are looking at bushes and shrubs in much need of a pruning, stunning view of the fence and the crest of the grassy hill that over-looks that very lovely ocean view we were promised. " I'm barely through my sentence when the both of them are leaving a dust trail in their wake to hit the bars. I'm 31, 5'5, bright green eyes, medium length dark-blonde hair. It's my birthday weekend and dammit, I want to relax, 'not' get shit-faced. I go take a long nap and feeling a bit better but not enough to go out for the evening. Honestly, I just wanted to get some sleep and head back to the room. Trish feigns that, "ohh you sure you don't want me to come back with you? Ok, that out of the way, my Gonewild story starts a few years ago on my 29th birthday. I decide on chilling by the pool deck to work on my moon tan. I have a good ability to tune people so I'm content. ) and reading my kindle. How I hold onto it is beyond me but my reaction is more of stunned shock than anything else. The group of college guys and girls playing in the pool are loud but keeping to themselves. My actual birthday wasn't until tomorrow anyway so nothing was going to be ruined. He gives me the once over to make sure I was ok and nothing was broken but says nothing else. I start to hear shouts and alerts from the college group but don't register them in time. I'm in my one-piece swimsuit and shorts (ohh yeah, working on perfecting the non-mom milf look! Out of no-where, this water logged volleyball smacks my leg and practically knocks my kindle out of my free pics of hairy pussy hand. I can make teenagers avoid eye contact for upwards of 3 seconds and cause dogs to question if they actually did something wrong. Ohh yes, my glare is legendary. I'm beginning to fume and work up my courage to passively glare at the miscreants for ruining my birthday relaxation read. The much older brother of one of the college kids walks up to me and asks me if I'm all right. My glare subsides long enough to get that "omgheshotshitshitshit" look on my face. Jock#1 quickly comes over and apologizes while grabbing the ball to toss it back in the pool. " Don his name is, has "Classy Gentlemen" written all over his posture, demeanor on his shirtless physic. I'm pretty sure I have that "Bored Receptionist with gaping mouth open" look going for me. "Hey, sorry about that" he soothes, "Are you ok? " My look faltered into the "holyshityoujustmadeasexualreferenceaaarrrgggh! I just sit there in the lounge wondering what the hell just happened. I'm kind of chaperoning so its my duty. He ignored it with, ". Rough but polished to perfection. " I interrupted to change the subject, "A drink. I fumbled back, "No, it's ok. you can buy my a drink. The poor guy comes back (fully clothed now) about 20 minutes later with my poison of choice (Cadillac Margarita if you must know) and I ask him if everything was ok. " He smiled, agreed without saying much and I was happy to just having something to distract me from Mr Pecks McHugechest that was Don. His voice is like silky smooth gravel. " and "You know, if you just wanted birthday sex, there are easier ways to do it". Corny pick-up lines are eye rollingly bad, I know, but damnit if they don't work on me. My knight in shirtless-but-now-shirted armor! Don and I decide to go for a walk on the beach because reasons. Turns out he's as goofy as I am and has this great sense of humor. I drop my gear off at my room and find out girls with hairy cunts Don's is directly above me. give or take 30 or so rooms to the side. "Soo, do you often get wet when balls fly at your face? " I put on my good lowcut top to show off my non-existent cleavage and freshen up down below. I had to hook up with him at some point that weekend. Our walk-n-talk goes on for about 10mins or so and he puts his arm around my waist. Don is now sporting this god-awful tacky Hawaiian shirt, khaki shorts that have an honest to goodness tear along the sides that could hide a badger in them an flip-flops that look like something he recycled from an 80's vintage store. I love a man who doesn't take things seriously. Turns out, the pool side bar was closed and he had to go into the restaurant bar to get it only they didn't allow no-shirts, blah blah blah, he went out of his way to get me that drink. By the 30min mark my head is on his shoulders and his hands are on my hip. My man in fleshy armor is waiting by the pool and he's looking GOOOOOD. I hope its the former and he takes it upon himself to start by kissing me on the lips in a full head grasping double handed embrace. I move his arm a bit so that his hand intentionally brushes my ass. He and I chitchat for a bit. I love to be kissed passionately and the soft glow of a quarter moon is adding to the intensity. I melt because this is my turn on. now I'm wet again and a second set of balls are the cause once more. My left leg was wrapping around his while my arms were entwined around his back and shoulders. There is minimal ambient light outside and definitely nobody on the beach that we can see. I'm horny as hell at this point and the gentlemen in him needs to be corrupted if things are to progress some time this century. God he smelled good too. Granted, I could have been giving him the "Hey, do you smell that? At some point, his fingers found there way inside my shorts and under my panties to grab hold of my bare ass. I'm not an exhibitionist nor do I actively do PDA, but I was caught up in the moment. We had wondered far enough away from the hotel that we couldn't see it anymore but nearing the next track of beach houses. I loved it knowing there was nobody around. Being nervous as fuck, he undid my shorts and slid them down to my ankles as I scanned up and down the beach to make sure there weren't anyone out for a walk. Instant shivers up and down my spine. Nobody could see us from the road or houses but we were in full open view to the shoreline if someone was walking along the beach. I barely had time to fully register that my bottoms were on the sand when I feel his tongue lick my lower lips. I actually hunched over from the wave of shocking pleasure. His hand found their way off my head and gripped my ass cheek in a firm hold. He was giving me standing oral, on a beach, at night and in a few hours it would be my birthday! It was actually too much for me as my system was in overload. I pause, look up and give him "the look". Don had led me up to a rocky cove of shore and bushes where it was semi secluded. His cock was average yet rock hard. I pulled down the remnants of the torn cloth he called shorts and I yanked down his boxers. I pulled Don away to stand him upright. He gasped and rolled his head back to stare at the stars. Holy SHIT this was hot. I got up off my knees from the sand and brushed myself off. His taste was good too. With both of our shorts and underwear at our ankles, Don plunged his dick into me and it felt good. He took the opportunity of my bent frame to position himself behind me and rub his cock up and down my slit. I know he is average but damn if it didn't feel perfect going in and out. Up the coast near where the hotel was, we saw some flashlights in the distance heading our way. I knew he wouldn't last long so I wanted him inside me first. I engulfed his dick into my mouth and swallowed it whole. I recovered from the shock and arched my head back as my hand felt onto the back of his head. Don and I were enjoying ourselves too much to care at that point as both of us were on the verge. I grabbed hold of it at the base and teased it with some girly licks. I had already finished and working towards a second as Don was still pounding away when we heard the familiar jiggle of a dog collar. My sand filled panties and shorts flew back around my hips but Don had a harder time as his cock was still stone hard and I could tell he was struggling. The fucking dog that we heard came bounding up to us happily to greet new guests. I felt a small yet much needed orgasm coming and it hit me hard and fast. Feel free to say that in Doug's voice. The owner strolled up a minute or two later with a look of disgust at the two of us. New smells coming from their crotches. The weather beaten old man just grumbled under his breath and never acknowledge our hellos and casual attempts at a greeting. We made our way down to the beach again trying to look nonchalant and just a couple out for a stroll. SHOW STOPPER as we knew it was close and there wasn't much time. He attached the leash to his precious dog to prevent our sexual taint from disturbing his innocent nose. Poor guy could only cum once to my half dozen or so times. Performance anxiety I guess because he really didn't want to get caught by my friends as they walked in. Don and I wasted no time in stripping off our clothes and fucking like rabbits for the next half hour or so. Ok, looks like he knew what we were doing. like the college group didn't know what he actually just did. Don eventually gave up on the second orgasm and quickly showered to wash off the sex we had. Poor naive good-guy knight. We made our way back to the hotel, made a quick view of the parking lot to check if Trish and Angie were back and made a bee line to my room. submitted by ThrowawayCumbackF [link] [comment] Maybe it was the thought of being caught, or knowing we could be at any moment, it sent me over the edge fast.