#I’ve been yelling too much on Twitter everyone’s gonna get sick of me

[3fling]

.

[lilysdaydreams]

Praise Bingus (No fucking way)

→  I do not claim to know corpse- therefore please don't think that this is what he would actually act like, or that any details about his life are actually true. this is fiction.

→ Pairing: Corpse Husband X Fem!Reader

→ Genre: Angst and fluff. (FLUFF IS COMING I SWEAR)

→ Words: 3.9k

→ In a world where everyone is born with a mark on their wrist, two souls come together over the power of bingus.

→ (this isnt crack lol)

→ Warnings: Lots of swearing, um self-depreciation? rejection (kinda) and negative thoughts overall. Sorry im new to warnings.

→ Authors Note: this is the first time im doing like angst so please tell me if I did well? Um also, I’ve already started on the part 2 so keep your eyes out for that. If you wanna be tagged for part two please comment and lemme know. Also check out my other fics if you want!

→ Buy me a coffee

Part two  →    

~~~

Soulmates were a phenomenon. They'd been there for ages, drawn into the Egyptian tomb paintings, seen in the cave paintings from millions of years ago, talked about in stories passed down from generation to generation. They could be matching drawings, first words, names; all black before the soulmates met and turning gold the moment they talked to each other. There wasn't a scientist in the world who could explain the phenomenon.

You'd received your mark at birth just like everyone else, a sentence running around your wrist,

"No fucking way."

Your parents weren't that happy when you asked at the age of 4 what "fucking" meant but it wasn't that bad. You were happy that you had something unique, something other than the "Hi," or "Excuse me," that was on every other arm.

When you were 13, a little girl on the train pointed to your wrist and asked her mom what it meant. Ever since then, you'd taken to wearing bracelets over it. This had turned out to be a good idea because a few years later you started making Youtube videos. At the age of 16, you started a Youtube channel where you focused on a variety of things; makeup, fashion, games, art, skits and a whole lot more.

At the age of 20, you had a steady following of a little more than a million subscribers, and you had moved to LA to be closer to all your Youtube friends. You hadn't just grown on Youtube, you'd also started a lot of side projects. You were known for the art that you did on the side, along with the makeup palette you'd come out with a year ago. Soon you were planning to release a merch collection, one that you had been working on for a whole year now.

You hadn't met your soulmate at this point but honestly, you didn't really mind. Balancing Youtube and study (along with all your other side projects) was hard. There was no need to add the struggle of love into it... Or that's what you told yourself anyways.

There were days though, days where you wished you had someone to hug, someone to cuddle in bed with, someone to go on long walks with. You didn't let yourself wallow on it that long though. Crying about it was gonna do absolutely nothing.

It started on a rainy day. The story of you and him. You were editing your soon to be uploaded video, an e-girl outfits lookbook, which had been requested by your followers. Your personal style was all over the place and your previous soft girl and cottage care look books had done well, so you decided to continue the series.

You eyes blurred as you looked at the same point of the video, and you sighed, removing your glasses and rubbing your eyes. Your editor was sick and had let you know that they wouldn't be able to edit it by the deadline so here you were, editing it yourself. You stretched in your chair letting out a yawn. You were contemplating on whether to make coffee or not when your phone pinged.

"Nooooo" you whined when you noticed it was on the coffee table that was just a little out of your reach. Stretching your foot out, you tried to grab it between your toes and then sighed when the phone fell.

"I have zero luck, I swear" you muttered to yourself, bending to pick up the phone.

The text was from Rae, asking you to join a game of Among Us. You and Rae had been friends for a bit now, which all started when she came across your art and decided to order something from you. You had chatted and clicked immediately, immediately becoming fast friends. Ever since the lockdown started, she often asked you to join in on Among us games and your friendship had really grown over these past few months.

You sent a quick "sure!" and then went to your table, waiting for the PC to turn on. Quickly tweeting out that you were streaming, you opened up Youtube and turned on the stream, saying a quick hello and letting them know what you'd be doing.

"Rae just invited me guys, I don't really know who's there," you mumbled, replying to a comment asking you who you were playing with.

You squinted your eyes, joining the voice chat and then opening your phone camera to quickly check that you didn't look horrible. Sure you didn't really care about how you looked but it was always good to check that you didn't have anything stuck between your teeth before you turned on the camera.

There was already a conversation going on, between who you thought was Corpse and Sykkuno, judging by their voices.

"Yeah I could totally do that. Get a cat and name it Bingus. I wonder if th-"

You gasped when you heard what they were talking about and unmuted yourself immediately yelling "PRAISE LORD BINGUS" and effectively shocking everyone in the chat.

A moment of silence and then Rae yelled: "OH MY FUCKING GOD Y/N, YOU SCARED THE CRAP OUT OF ME."

You giggled as everyone groaned and whined, saying hi as they realised who it was. You had played with Sykkuno and the others a few times before but you'd never met Corpse before. You'd heard his voice though, as he was trending on twitter constantly over the past few weeks. Once they all quietened down, you realised Corpse hadn't said anything. Since you knew everyone else in the lobby, you introduced yourself, wondering if you'd scared him a bit too hard.

"Hey Corpse, I'm Y/N from Y/C/N, its so nice to finally meet you," you said gritting your teeth at you awkward introduction. For a second there was no response and then three words were said that made your jaw drop to the floor.

"No fucking way"

He had whispered it, obviously still in shock, and your eyes widened in surprise as a tingle spread all over your body. So this was what everyone meant by "you'll just know," when you asked them about how you would recognize your soulmate.

"Holy shit" you thought frozen in your seat.

Never had you been more glad that you hadn't turned the camera on yet.

"Uhhhh-" you started, but stopped now knowing what to say.

What the fuck were you supposed to do now.

"Wha- Whats wrong?" Rae asked after a moment passed.

Corpse cleared his throat and started "Its um, shes my -" and you cut him off, heart beating in your chest.

"Nothing. Its nothing." you said talking over him. "Who else are we waiting for Rae?" you asked joining the lobby quickly and choosing red as your colour.

"Uh one more person," she said slowly, still a bit confused.

"Oh awesome!" you said fake enthusiasm prevalent in your voice. "So Sykkuno," you started, wanting to keep the conversation going. "How's Bimbus doing?"

Sykkuno launched into a story of Bimbus and you blew out a sigh of relief, mind still numb over the revelation.

Corpse was your soulmate.

The guy who had literally went viral the past few weeks was your soulmate.

You'd finally found him.

You heard Rae cut Sykkuno off, telling everyone she was starting the game and muttered a "Thank god" when the words "CREWMATE" appeared on your screen. You would not have been able to play imposter at the moment, your mind pretty much stuck on the fact that Corpse was your fucking soulmate.

Heading down to admin, you realised you hadn't said anything yet to the stream so you quickly turned on your cam, saying a quick sorry to the viewers.

"Sorry guys, I forgot to put the camera on," you smiled focusing on card swipe.

"I hope everyone's been okay, I know this was quite sudden, but Rae invited me and I was like why not you know," you said rambling as you moved to comms and did the task there.

Lights were called and you moved to electrical, arriving there just as Leslie fixed them. You moved into the back of electrical doing the three tasks you had there when Sykkuno suddenly came in and went straight to standing on top of the vent.

You giggled already knowing his trick.

"Okay guys," you mumbled watching Sykkuno wiggle on the vent. "do we trust Sykkuno or not?"

"You know what," you said making a split second decision. "Its the first game, we might as well."

Joining him on the vent, you stilled for a second and then breathed a sigh of relief when he didn't automatically kill you.

"See, what did I tell you guys huh?" you question smiling straight at the camera. "I knew Sykkuno could be trusted."

You decided to follow Sykkuno going into reactor with him and starting 'Simon says' and just as you were on the last part, a body was found making you let a whine out.

"Guysss," you whined to the camera as Rae started talking about how she had found Daves body in admin.

"Um, I havent been in admin since the start of the game," you said, "also I can clear Sykkuno, for the last part of the round, he's been with me since lights went out."

Sykkuno confirmed it, "Yup that's right, also I can hard clear Y/N cuz guess what? She stood on the vent with me and none of us died."

Everyone chuckled as he said "Thats good enough for me."

"Uh, I was in navigation mostly." said Lily.

"Poki, can I just ask what you were doing?" said Sean, an undercurrent of mirth present.

"Me?" asked Poki speaking for the first time. "What was I doing?"

"You weren't doing any tasks, you were literally just walking from one side of medbay to the other when I peeked in."

Poki started laughing, trying to get her words out at the same time.

"Okay so-" a giggle. "okay okay- I was just, I was trying to um do the beep test," she said finally breaking down and making everyone else laugh as well.

"What the fuck?" you said, laughing at the image in your mind.

"My chat told me to do it last game so I decided to do it now, I was literally just playing around," she said finally, adding "I swear I'm not imposter" at the end.

"Hmmm," you hummed, bringing a hand up to stroke your chin. "Are you sure it was last game Poki... hm...."

Giggling at Poki indignant "YES it was last game", you quickly skipped voting like everyone else as the timer went into the last ten seconds.

Humming a tune under your breath, you went back to reactor, taking a minute to carefully do Simon says and then moved to the other task counting out one two three as you pressed on the numbers. Humming, you moved out of reactor, only to come face to face with Corpse. You paused for a second, and then moved ahead, refusing to show anything on camera. For some reason he followed you as you went to storage, looking at you while you did the trash.

"Why is he just staring?" you mumbled, biting your lip. God, you really didn't wanna think of him right now. You started walking to shields, him still walking with you when lights were called and not a second later a body was reported.

Suddenly there was screaming your ears as Toast and Rae both started accusing each other.

"Wait- Wait WAIT" yelled Poki trying to get them to stop. "What happened?"

"I'll explain" declared Rae, not letting toast get a word in. "We were in navigation okay, me, Toast and Leslie. Lights went out, and suddenly a report buttons there. It's either Toast or someone came in just as lights went out and killed but that doesn't seem likely because I didn't see anyone anywhere near us at all. Anyways I'm fucking telling the truth guys, its Toast, he's the one who did it."

"Toast, do you have anything to say for yourself?" asked Corpse, his voice making your insides shiver.

"Holy shit, this is my soulmate", you thought for the fiftieth time.

"Uh yeah," replied toast. "I didn't do it."

Everyone laughed as he continued.

"Like seriously, I wouldn't do anything like this because it'd be a stupid move from my own part, and I think Raes smart enough to not do this as well. I think someone else came in just as lights went down and killed immediately, which to be honest, was pretty smart of them."

"Okay so I can clear Corpse," you cut in noticing the timer was close. "he was with me in weapons when it happened, he wouldn't have had time to go all the way up, or even vent there because we were literally walking in."

"Yup that's right," confirmed corpse.

"I'm in cafeteria" said Poki.

"Yeah, I saw her on my way to weapons," said Sykkuno, "and I'm in weapons right now,"

"I'm in lower engine" said Sean, and Lily said she was in reactor.

"I think it's Toast," you mumbled and then rose your voice to talk over everyone. "Look okay fine, maybe he said it was a stupid move and he wouldn't do it but maybe he did it for that exact reason. He thought he could get away with it because no one would expect him to do something like that."

As the timer started going down by 10, you voted for Toast and it turned out 3 had skipped the vote while five had voted for him.

damn.

"Guys you actually voted for him?" you said in a high voice, re-enacting one of Sykkunos most said lines.

You heard a "oh for gods sake" from Rae before everyone went silent and you giggled as you moved back down to weapons to do your tasks.

You finished all your tasks and decided to go to security to check where everyone is. Humming as you moved through the electrical hallway, you narrowed your eyes as Corpse came out of electrical and went towards storage. Quickly ducking in you didn't see a body so you headed back out, going into cams and gasping as you saw the body. Reporting immediately you were shocked to see the four kills that had happened. Now only you, Corpse, Sean and Rae were left.

"Oh my god," you mumbled confused. Either there were still two imposters, and Toast wasn't the imposter or the imposter literally killed and did nothing else. Now either that could mean that its definitely Rae if Toast wasn't the imposter, or that it was Corpse as the only imposter left. That was a bit weird though becuase he could have totally killed you at the start of the game. You didn't suspect Sean at all.

"What the fuck?" mumbled Corpse, and Rae made her animal noises expressing her shock.

"Okay," you said taking charge and relaying the kill and your theory to everyone. "So either it was Toast and there's only one other imposter, who is Corpse. Or Toast wasn't an imposter and there's two of them left. I-" you took a deep breath in at the end, very confused. " I don't know anymore,"

"I think its Corpse as well,"

Corpse who hadn't said anything up till this moment suddenly started stammering out "hey-hey uh let-lets not gang up on me okay. It's not-"

"No, wait, its because Y/N said you came out of electrical right, and I saw you in upper engine literally a bit ago and you went down. I went towards cafeteria so I don't know exactly where you went but its totally possible that you killed."

You voted form him after that, convinced it was Corpse, and the other followed quickly.

"Guys what the fuck, at least give me a chance to explain my self" he whined when his body was thrown off the ship seconds later. You cheered when the "VICTORY" sign was displayed across the screen, bringing up your chat and laughing at Toast as he pretended to be angry at me.

"That was a great round, good work Y/N"

"Thankyou" you mumbled staring at your chat. You were confused when you saw the absolute influx of messages on there, and you were barely able to read them because they were going so fast. You scrolled up, and read through the few of the messages;

"You've made corpse sad."

"Corpse has literally been so quite since you came in, can you leave."

"Omg stop with the hate messages, its not her fault if corpse isn't talking to you"

"are you his ex or something? What was that reaction at the start?"

"what did you do? Corpse literally hasn't said a word since you came in."

"Um..."

Corpse POV

Corpses heart stopped for a minute, his breath catching. The words on his wrist glowed gold, and he stared at the little red character standing there.

This person was the reason that he had "PRAISE BINGUS" stretched across his wrist.

They were the only reason that he had searched "Bingus" on google for all of his life. The only reason Corpse knew about the meme before anyone else was because he was constantly monitoring the word online. Ever since March, he had been waiting with bated breath, anxious that he could meet his soulmate at any moment. and here you were.

For some reason, he had never expected that he would meet you in among us, or while he was on stream. He always thought it'd be someone outside. It was a bit stupid in hindsight as all he did nowadays was play among us.

He heard you introduce yourself to him but the only thing that came out of his mouth was “No fucking way”.

Immediately after he wanted to slap himself.

“Idiot” he thought to himself. “At least try to make a good impression.”

When Rae asked what was wrong, heat sprung to his cheeks as he started revealing that they were soulmates, but Y/N cut him off, saying that it was nothing.

Corpse’s heart sank a little then.

'Maybe she’s just a private person,' he reasoned with himself.

'I shouldn’t have tried to say it on stream either. God, I’m a fucking idiot, if I said it, literally everyone would know and not only would I have hated the attention, she probabaly would have as well.'

Convincing himself that she was right, he reassured himself that it wasn’t because of him. She wasn’t revealing it because she probably didn't want all the attention.

For some reason though, his heart sank even more when Y/N didnt talk to him, instead talking to sykkuno about his dog. Like sure he could understand not wanting to reveal they were soulmates but shouldn’t she at least wanna talk to him? At this point he wouldn’t even mind if she talked about his voice like everyone else.

He groaned when the word "Imposter" came across his screen, his and Toasts character standing together. He was not in the right mindset right now to be able to be a good imposter. Breathing in deeply he continued in the game, with the first round passing by quick. The second round, he saw Y/N and stood with her for a bit wondering if he should kill her. Her red character moved to weapons and he sighed moving the mouse over the kill button. Just as he was thinking of clicking a body was found. Corpse swore as Toast flew off the ship. Deciding he needed to speed it up he killed four people in the round, hissing when the meeting was called. The moment Y/N accused him, he knew it was over. He didn't even bother defending himself much, just hoping the game would end soon.

When they were in the lobby, he quickly told everyone that he was going to leave because his internet was acting up. Turning off the stream after saying a quick thank you to everyone, he leaned back in his seat breathing through his nose.

What the fuck was his life.

Even his soulmate didnt want him. Honestly, he should have expected this. Abandoned at 12 with no one around him, why did his expect his soulmate to even give a fuck about him. Tears pricked his eyes and he blinked trying to get rid of them. He breathed in deeply, grabbing the water on the table and taking a big gulp. He had never hated himself more than he did right now. Why couldnt he have an easier life.

“Why cant I just fucking be NORMAL” he yelled throwing the empty bottle of water at the wall.

Throwing himself into bed, he scrunched up his eyes, hoping that sleep would come today, not noticing as his phone lit up with a single message.

Your POV

You stayed for another game and then ducked out apologizing and making an excuse up.

"Sorry it was such a short stream, everyone," you said pouting at the camera. "It was fun though so hopefully I get to do it again." Waving goodbye, you turned off the camera and leaned your head back staring at the ceiling.

What the actual fuck.

Grabbing your phone, you stared at it for a bit. Everything that you had pushed to the back of your mind in the game, was suddenly in the forefront.

The only thing you knew about Corpse was that he had a really deep voice, he narrated horror movies, and he maybe did music?

'Rae mentioned that once right?' you thought to yourself.

You unlocked the phone and then locked it again, too scared to actually do anything.

Unlocked.

Locked.

Unlocked.

Locked.

"Oh get a grip," you muttered to yourself, opening the phone and sending a text to Rae.

‘Hey Rae, do you have corpses number? Do you mind sending it to me, I need to tell him something.’

A reply came in a minute,

‘umm, why. he's pretty private so idk i don't rlly wanna give his number if he doesn't want someone to have it’

You sighed, and decided you might as well tell her. You knew Rae wouldn't betray your trust.

‘He's my soulmate’

Immediately a ‘AHDJHAKJKAGDAK’ came as a reply and you giggled at the string of emojis after it.

‘Don't tell anyone,’ you sent quickly, trying to calm her down.

‘Okay okay, its XXX - XXX - XXXX, ASHAGDH IM DYING OMG. GO TALK TO HIM.’

Biting your lip you added Corpse into your contacts hesitating before putting a small black heart next to his name.

"Already simping," you mumbled under your breath, hands hovering over the keyboard as you struggled to think of what to write.

You finally decided on 'Hey, its Y/N, can I call?' thinking that something short would be the best way to go. Hand hovering over the send button, you sucked in a breath and pressed it, waiting with bated breath.

A minute passed.

And then five.

And then, without you even you realising, it'd been half an hour of you just looking at your phone.

An hour later, you were slumped on your desk, eyes closed and snoring lightly, the phone still open, the message you sent lighting up the screen.

tbc.

[itsallyscorner]

pleeeease write a blurb where the girl's a member of little mix and they do an award show performance, so tom keeps hyping his girl up and recording stories, just being a supportive bf 🥺

Thank you so much for requesting!! I’m so sorry it took so long, but I hope you enjoy it💞 I know you said you wanted a blurb, but I could never write short things, I’m always too damned detailed and shit, I’m sorry😭 Happy reading🥰

💌.

#1 Fan

Based on Little Mix’s 2019 BRITs performance of Woman Like Me, I suggest watching it to understand Tom’s insta story💞

“You’re going to absolutely smash it. All of you are.” Tom encouraged you. His large hands grasp onto yours comfortingly. The two of you were currently backstage at the BRITs in your and the girls’ shared dressing room. Tonight was a big night for you all, as you and the girls were nominated for two awards: British Artist Video of the Year and British Group of the Year. Additionally, the five of you were going to be performing your latest single, “Woman Like Me”.

To say that you were jittery was an understatement. You were terrifyingly nervous, it made you feel nauseous. Your stomach was a jungle of butterflies, fluttering nonstop as the time to perform grew closer and closer. You glanced at the clock and took a deep breath. The pink latex bra you had on felt as if it were getting tighter and tighter around your chest. Tom notices your slight discomfort and glances at the time, “How about we sit? You’ve got plenty of time to relax before you all go on stage.”

Tom wraps his arm around your waist and leads you to the couch in the dressing room. He settles beside you and moves his arm to rest across your lap, his hand interlocking with yours. You leaned back into the seat and watched the girls make last minute touches to their hair, face, and costumes. Tom squeezes your hand, bringing your attention to him. Your eyes shift to meet his warm chocolate brown ones. A soft smile grows on his lips, “Hey.”

You reciprocate his smile with a smaller one, “Hi.”

“What’s wrong? You rarely get jitters before going out on stage.” He asks you quietly so only you could hear. You stare down at your lap and fiddle with his fingers.

“I-it’s just different from what we’ve been doing lately.” You start, glancing at Tom. He nods for you to continue, “We just haven’t been doing live performances for such a long time. Like on tour, we’re usually performing in front of our fans. Not the entire British music industry or live television.”

Tom brings your hand up to his lips and presses a gentle kiss on it. “There’s nothing to worry about, darling. You—and the girls, are going to do amazing as always. You guys are the best at live performances. The amount of work and dedication you girls put into this is going to pay off, I swear, it’ll be a standing ovation. Everyone’s going to love it.”

You smile at your boyfriend’s support for you and the girls. You couldn’t help but peck his lips, to which he replied with a lovestruck grin.

“I’m just nervous that I’ll mess up. Like what if I miss a step of the choreography—or stumble on my words while I’m singing? Oh god, what if I forget the lyrics—“ Your eyes widen in horror as your head generated all the worst case scenarios that could happen on stage. Tom shushes you and gingerly cradles your jaw, being careful of the makeup on your face.

“Listen to me.” He levels his eyes with yours to make sure your attention is on him. “You’re not going to mess up or forget a line—none of that nonsense is going to happen. It’s a load of bullshit. You wanna know why? Because you’re (y/n) (l/n), a member of one of the biggest girl bands of the world, you’re my girlfriend, and you’re the most beautiful and talented girl I’ve ever met. You’re just overthinking. I know you, (y/n). Once the music starts on stage you get lost and start singing your heart out, the crowd just disappears from existence. It’s only you and the girls up on that stage and you’re going to make one hell of a performance. I just know it and so do the other people waiting in that audience.”

You stare at him, stunned by his sudden motivational speech. “Since when did you get good at pep talks?”

His mouth gapes at you, “Uh—stan Twitter? The fans? Is that seriously what you got from all of that?” You shook your head and wrapped your hands around his wrist. “No, I heard every single word. I guess I’m feeling a bit more better now, so thank you, Tommy.” You peck his lips again, despite the fact that your lip gloss was getting on his lips. Though he didn’t care, as long as he was kissing you.

“Still got some nerves?”

“Just a little bit. But I’ll be fine, especially with you in the crowd.” You interlock your fingers with his and glance at the clock. Only 10 more minutes till you were all going to perform.

Tom’s face lights up, “Front seat babe, I got the best seat in the house. I swear, I’m recording the whole performance on my phone. I already got Harrison to help me take Instagram stories for me at the same time. I need every angle.”

Jesy takes that as her cue to join the conversation, “My goodness, you’re such a dork.” She reaches her hand out for you to help you get off the couch.

Tom fakes a dramatic gasp, knowing Jesy didn’t really mean her jab at him. “I don’t know what you’re taking about, I’m just being a very supportive boyfriend. AND Little Mix’s number one fan.”

You dust your pink pants off and take a look at yourself in the full body mirror. You did a little shake too loosen your limbs out and did some breathing exercises. Tom lets you do your pre-performance ritual while he talks with the girls.

Perrie crosses her arms, amused at the younger Brit, “Are you seriously competing against a bunch of teenage girls to deem yourself as our number one fan?”

“Well are they dating one of the members of Little Mix? I don’t think so. You know who is? Me.” Tom gestures to himself sassily. “I even get to hear all the new music earlier than everybody else and get good seats at concerts.” He bragged while one of the members on your team helped you place your in-ears.

Jesy rolls her eyes before gesturing to the door, “Right, I’m calling security. Apparently we’ve got a crazed fan in our dressing room.” Jade and Leigh-Anne stifle a laugh at the bickering.

“You can’t kick me out, I have backstage access.” Tom defended himself with crossed arms.

“No seriously, babe. We’re about to perform in five.” You join the conversation, finally feeling your anxiousness start to fade away. Tom blinks at you, “I’m being kicked out by my own girlfriend?”

Jesy laughs at Tom, taking the piss out of his offended expression. A sly smirk grows on your face. You hold your hands out for him to help him off the couch, “If you want to record every second and angle of our performance, I suggest leaving now.”

Tom straightens out his suit before interlocking your fingers with his. He leans forward and pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “You’re gonna be great. I love you.”

You giggle, eyes beaming up at his warm brown ones, “I love you too. Now get back to Harrison, you’ve left him alone for too long.” Prior to leaving, he stops in his tracks and manages to gather you and the girls into a group selfie. He wishes you all good luck and leaves, making his way back to his seat in the audience.

While he walks back, he posts the selfie you all took onto his Instagram story with the caption, “Good luck to these beautiful ladies! Tune into the BRITs to see their performance, you don’t wanna miss it!”

He gets back to the table designated for you and the girls to see Harrison with an unamused face.

“What?” Tom asks him, confused at his friend.

“You left me here by myself, you div.” Harrison quips. Tom cringes and apologizes to his friend.

“You’re still gonna help me record the performance, right?” Tom sheepishly asked gesturing to Harrison’s phone.

“Yes, Tom, I’ve told you multiple times that I’ll record it.” Harrison held his phone up getting his camera ready. Harrison was about the rant about Tom and how whipped the boy was for you, but was sushed by his best friend.

“SHUT UP IT’S STARTING. HARRISON START RECORDING!” The lights dimmed while someone announced you and the girls. Harrison had his phone already filming while Tom held his phone up, ready to start recording things for his Instagram story.

Tom’s Instagram Story:

“HOLY SHIT!” Tom screamed behind the camera as he recorded the opening of the performance.

You and the girls were stood up while the dancers were on the floor thrusting up at you all. The camera flips to Tom, who’s mouth was agape, “THAT SHOULD BE ME.”

The camera is back to the stage, where you and the girls are doing the choreography with the chairs. Tom whoops loudly in the background and yells, “THAT’S FUCKING SICK—HARRISON LOOK AT THEM.”

“YESS! THAT’S MY GIRLFRIEND!” Tom screamed, thrusting his finger in your direction when your part of the song came on.

Tom zooms in on you as you strutted alongside the girls on the stage, he flips the camera back to him and a smirk is on his lips. He nodded before telling the camera, “That’s my girl.”

Tom forgot to turn his camera around and ended up recorded himself reacting to the performance. A proud smile is on his features while his eyes lit up as they followed you on stage. He leaned closer to Harrison and says, “She looks stunning, mate, my god.”

The stories cut to him and Harrison dancing and singing along to Woman Like Me.

The camera cuts back to you. You’re singing your part in the chorus and you hit a certain note that stuns Tom. He flips the camera to himself, a shocked expression on his face while he hyped you up.

The colored lights reflect onto Tom’s face, his mouth widens when he realizes you and the girls included a dance break in the performance. He flips the camera back, making sure all five of you were in frame.

Tom cheers in the background along with the audience when you and the girls finish your performance.

An unbreakable smile is on Tom’s lips, “There you all have it, I tried to record some parts just in case you all missed it—But that was probably one of the greatest performances they have ever done. I feel so honored to be here.”

Tom leans over so him and Harrison are in frame, “What did you think of the performance, Harrison?” Harrison grins, “I thought it was out of this world, I wasn’t expecting that.”

Tom’s face is hovered above the camera, “I just wanted to let you all know, that after tonight, I am officially becoming a Little Mix fan account. Follow me for more insider updates on Little Mix.”

You come back to the table to see Tom, Harrison, and the girl’s dates beaming at the five of you. You’re all greeted with congratulations and hugs. When you finally reach Tom, he crashes his lips onto yours and lifts you up.

You giggle against his lips, “Hello to you too.”

He pecks your lips twice more before placing you back down, “You were—I don’t even know how to describe it. You were fucking amazing up there.”

You whine, the blush growing on your cheeks while you hid your face in his neck, “Well, I couldn’t have done it without your little pep talk. So thank you, lovey.” 

Tom waves you off while helping you into the seat beside him, “That was all you, darling.”

You and the girls settled down as the awards show continued on. You were drinking a glass of water and reached out to check your phone. Tom stops you, grabbing your wrist. You shoot him a look.

“No—just, don’t watch my Instagram story. Please.” He asks you with a sheepish smile. A loud roar of laughter is heard from across the table, making you all look at Jesy. She simply holds her phone up, screen facing you all, with Tom’s story playing on it.

[hopelesshawks]

If you're still doing it, and if you feel inspired with the character : Bakugou Katsuki and the song "From Now On" from The Greatest Showman.

You can write with another character if this one doesn't inspire you!

Send me a song and a character (still open)

Ohhhh I love this!! Pro hero!Bakugo who let all the fame of being number 2 get in the way of his relationship me thinks. Thanks for sending this in 🥰

Bakugo used to love the fame and attention that came with being a top hero.

He used to love the way people would scream his name with stars in their eyes when they saw him; the way the idiots in suits over at the HPSC would congratulate him on his incident resolution rate; the way the press would sing his praises; the way his name sounded after the words Number Two Hero even though he’d much rather hear it after number one. He loved it all.

But you?

You fucking hated it.

You always said it was the worst part of hero work. The fans, the paparazzi, all of it grated on you. You hated that since Bakugo had cracked the top 10 you two couldn’t go on date night without getting blinded by cameras. You hated going to HPSC galas in an expensive outfit you’d never wear a second time, sipping overpriced champagne even though you’d be just as happy with something a tenth of the price. You hated that you couldn’t go on social media without seeing speculation about your relationship and your sex life literally everywhere or even worse hundreds of people all stating exactly why you weren’t good enough to be with the Bakugo Katsuki. But what you hated the most was the way Bakugo loved it; the way he preened under the praise, his chest puffing up with pride, ego absolutely blooming under all the superficial attention; the way he’d kiss you in front of paparazzi just so the headlines would be filled with mention of you being his. The rest you could deal with but it made your skin crawl how much he’d change when the public’s watchful eye was on him. At home he was the man you fell in love with, but the minute you left he regressed to the obnoxious asshole you’d first met during your first year at UA.

It was a recipe for disaster and in retrospect Katsuki really should’ve seen the break up coming. He can barely remember what had set off the argument in the first place, probably another gaudy headline or crude Twitter trend about the two of you. You’d been upset about it, raving about invasions of privacy and feeling violated and he’d been dismissive, the way he always was when it came to these things.

“It comes with the territory, just fuckin’ get used ta it already,” he had scoffed.

“The issue is you encourage it Katsuki! You care more about the fame and how good it makes you feel than you do how that added scrutiny makes me feel!” you fired back.

“Why can’t you just fucking deal with it??”

“I shouldn’t have to!”

“Well maybe if you did your fuckin ranking would be better!”

It was a low blow. Bakugo knew it then and he still knows it now. You try so hard to be the best hero you can be, but at the end of the day popularity plays a nontrivial role in the ranking system and being the “““just average””” significant other to one of Japan’s biggest rising stars isn’t a recipe for popularity.

“Get out….”

Your voice had been dangerously low. He’ll never forget the way it managed to sound both terrifyingly lethal and devastatingly heartbroken.

“Shit, wait (y/n) I didn’t mean that I-”

“I said get out!” you had yelled, voice quaking with pent up emotion as you started shoving him out the door. If he really didn’t want to move he could’ve easily resisted but at the time he’d been too shocked to even try, reeling backwards and letting you force him back into the hallway of your apartment building.

“Talk to me when Bakugo Katsuki comes back, I’m fucking sick of Pro Hero Dynamight,” you had said before promptly slamming the door in his face.

In the month that followed Katsuki threw everything into his work, taking longer shifts and pushing himself harder so that by the time he got home he was too beat up to feel the aching pain in his heart and too exhausted to notice his apartment didn’t feel like home the way yours did. He ignored the pitying looks from his friends, brushed off their concerned words and sympathetic gazes with grumbled “I’m fine”s and eye rolls. He filled the hole you left in him with the praise and admiration of the adoring public.

And then came the day you’d been warning him about since he first became a household name.

“The Cost of Victory: Pro Hero Dynamight destroys city during villain chase”

The story matched the headline, tallying up all of the damage he’d caused to buildings and other public property while trying to apprehend someone’s half ass attempt at recreating nomu. As shoddy as the thing was it could take a fucking hit and there was no denying the collateral damage was decently expansive. What the article failed to mention, however, was the amount of damage done before Bakugo had arrived on scene. It made sure to comment on the number of casualties in the incident but conveniently left out how much larger that number would be had Katsuki spent more time worrying about some stupid hunks of metal over catching the damn monstrosity and saving civilian lives. He guesses “Pro Hero Dynamight does his best despite being out gunned and having zero back up at his disposal” isn’t as catchy or clickworthy of a headline.

The very same websites showering him in praise just a day or two before now viciously rip into him. He can’t take a step outside his apartment without seeing article after article shredding him to pieces or getting a camera shoved into his face asking for comment on the criticism. His Twitter feed is full of former fans deriding him for falling short of perfection, calling him a narcissist, a showboat, a fucking menace to society as if he’s the sixteen year old kid chained up at the sports festival all over again. So he stops leaving his apartment entirely.

Kirishima is the one who finally gets him out again. The bar they go to is small, further away from the downtown area than most people are willing to stray. Between that and the fact it’s still relatively early in the evening, they have the place to themselves. The only other soul is the owner/bartender who seems entirely uninterested in the fact that Red Riot and Dynamight are patronizing his establishment. It’s perfect, giving Bakugo the space he needs to rant to his best friend. And rant he does. He lets it all pour out while he paces: the frustration, the rage, the disappointment, the guilt, until there’s nothing left in him except an aching sadness that has nothing to do with the fake fans and shitty headlines. “Y’know what the worst fuckin’ part is?” he rages, face red from bellowing for the past lord knows how long and tears already welling in his eyes at what he’s about to admit. Kirishima barely has time to ask what the worst part is before Katsuki is choking out around a frustrated sob “I wouldn’t even give a shit if I still had (y/n).”

Kirishima is out of his seat and pulling his friend into a hug in an instant. He lets Bakugo shake apart, doesn’t mind the tears soaking into his shirt or how tightly the other man is gripping onto him. He stands solid and firm, the same way he always has and always will for Katsuki until the sobs turn to hiccups. “They’re worried about you, you know,” Eijirou finally tells him. “Yea? How the fuck you figure that Shitty Hair?” Bakugo grumbles miserably into his shoulder. “They’ve called me every day since the article came out to check on you,” the red head admits and it’s enough to make Katsuki stiffen in his hold, scared to hope. “Really?” he asks, voice gruff but quiet. “Really. So are you gonna go to them or what?”

You’ve been staring at your phone for at least an hour, debating whether to call Bakugo or not, when a knock on your door snaps you out of your pained contemplation. You pull the long sleeves of the hoodie Bakugo gave you for your birthday down over your hands as you move to answer the door. Imagine your surprise when the very man who’d been plaguing your thoughts is the one standing outside your door. He looks rough. His hands are shoved into his pockets, back hunched over, face red and puffy, and even though he hasn’t looked you in the eye yet you can tell his are red rimmed. He’s been crying, you realize, and it breaks your heart a little. “Ya just gonna stand there or can I come in?” he asks and it snaps you out of your thoughts again. “Right yea sorry come in I guess,” you say, stepping out of the way to let him in.

He’s almost twitchy, like he wants to make himself comfortable the way he always used to but can’t. You wince a little when you realize it’s the correct assumption to make. Still he doesn’t say anything, he just stands there looking somehow simultaneously out of place and like he never left. “What are you doing here?” you finally sigh. “You said talk to you when Bakugo Katsuki came back and he—or I—or whatever did,” he mutters and a pang of something that feels suspiciously like guilt hits you at the words. “Oh… Is—is that all you wanted to say or?” He glares at a distant point over your left shoulder, presumably collecting his thoughts, before he finally meets your gaze. “Look I-” he breaks eye contact again, growling a little in frustration at himself as he continues to struggle to find words. You don’t say anything though, knowing he needs to work through it himself. “Things have been pretty shit for me lately,” he finally admits. You can’t help but scoff at the comment although one look at him and his pained expression has you regretting it. You clear your throat awkwardly. “Sorry, yea, keep going.”

He huffs before continuing and even though he still won’t meet your eyes you can tell how difficult this all is for him.

“Look things have been pretty fuckin’ shitty lately with everyone and their goddamn cousin in Japan hatin’ me but it’s made me realize some shit. I’ve been so fuckin’ focused on chasin’ the fame and the fans or whatever that I kinda forgot about the important stuff…”

He only trails off for a moment, steeling himself for whatever he’s about to say next. It’s almost funny how much it reminds you of him right before a big fight.

“But from now on,” he starts, finally meeting your gaze, puffing out his chest as if daring you to challenge whatever’s going to come out of his mouth next. “From now on I’m not gonna let all that stupid shit blind me alright? I promise, from now on I’m only focusin’ on the real people in my life, not the goddamn extras. Ok?”

His eyes are blazing as he finishes and it literally takes your breath away.

“Ok.”

“Ok, then….” he trails off, his eyes slide away again as his confidence wanes, “then can I come back home again?”

Your heart shatters and forms anew at the words as you find your feet moving before you’ve even told them to. You throw yourself into his arms, pulling him close, the jagged edges you both left in each other the night you broke up re-aligning and mending themselves. “Of course you can Katsuki, I’ve missed you,” you sigh, each word wrapped in relief and joy. “Fuckin’ missed you too dumbass,” he huffs back, although you don’t miss how wet it sounds. When you pull back it’s only a fraction and only so you can reel him in for a gentle kiss, pouring every missed I love you into it so there’s no room for doubting if you’ve truly forgiven him.

It’s a promise. A promise to do better from now on. And Katsuki means every single second of it.

General Taglist: @ahtsuwu @oikawaandkuroostan @oliviasslut @black-rose-29

[sergeantsporks]

Do You Want the Knife You Left in My Back, or Can I Keep It?

Rating: Teen and up, Gen

An injured Hunter wanders into Hexside. What was Luz supposed to do, just let him bleed out on the floor?

Ch 6/6: Separate Paths

Ch 1, Ch 2, Ch 3, Ch 4, Ch 5

Ao3

Hunter lifted one arm slowly. “Ow.” He lifted it a little more. “Ow.” C’mon—just—a little bit—“Ow.”

“Y’know, if it hurts that much, maybe you shouldn’t do it,” King commented from where he was curled up in Hunter’s lap, “Seems pretty obvious to me.”

“They’re just sore muscles. I have to move them, or they won’t get better.”

“What’re you in such a rush for? Are we really that bad?”

“I can’t be away this long.” Hunter rolled his shoulders with a wince. “What if—what if the emperor is mad that I’ve been away?”

“You got stabbed. I think it’s excusable.”

“Doesn’t matter. I should have found a way to check in.”

King tilted his head, looking up at Hunter. “You have one messed-up life.”

“I do not! I should have called in, told him what happened, or at least let him know that I would be a while. He’ll get worried, he—he needs me for something, he wants to keep me safe.”

“Right. So he sent you off into the woods alone with a stab-happy demon. Certainly sounds like he cares about your well-being.”

Hunter snorted. “Kikimora’s wanted me dead for a while. Belos never finds out, and without any evidence, it’s just my word versus hers. She’s never succeeded, so it doesn’t matter.”

“She almost did this time. Are you sure that your emperor doesn’t want you dead and is looking the other way?”

Kikimora has her intricate little schemes.

Did he know? Was he letting her get away with it for some reason?

Hunter shook his head. “No. You don’t know him at all, you can’t judge him!”

“I can judge him all I want, he tried to kill Eda and Luz! And me!”

“Well, he’s different to me, okay?” He had to stop letting people like Eda and King get into his head—they were the enemy, of course they would say the worst of Belos.

King put his head back down, closing his eyes. “Sure. Whatever you say.”

Xxx

Luz slammed open the door to the owl house, dashing towards the stairs. “I’m going to the library,” she called, “I’ll be back in time for dinner!” Wait. Something had been off down there. She pounded back down the stairs to see King curled up on the couch. “Hey, where’d Hunter go?!”

“Busy breaking his promises,” King grumbled from his spot, “He’s been running around, trying to make himself heal faster by stretching and whatnot.”

“Running around? Viney said—”

“Viney didn’t take into account that he’s stubborn, lives for the emperor, and has a bit of a usefulness complex.”

Luz heard a thump and an ow from upstairs. “…I’m guessing that was him?”

“All day, Luz. All. Day. Thump. ‘Ow.’ Thump. ‘Ow.’ ‘Ow. Ow this hurts.’ If it hurts so much, why doesn’t he just stop!”

“I think that applies to a lot of things in his life,” Luz muttered, thumping back up the stairs. Hunter was hauling himself off of the ground using a doorframe. “What exactly are you doing?”

“Getting better.” Hunter yipped as he lost his grip on the doorframe and fell back down. He held up one finger. “Don’t! Say anything.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Luz replied serenely, “Got somewhere to be?”

“Yeah. Back where I belong.”

Right. She wasn’t even going to get into it this time—even if she didn’t want him going back to the emperor’s coven, she knew that she’d just scare him off if she kept arguing the point. Luz offered him a hand up. “If you’re looking to get some exercise, I was gonna visit Amity in the library. You want to come?”

Hunter accepted her hand, but snorted. “Be in a room with you two lovebirds? Blech. I’d rather dangle above the boiling sea while King sat on my shoulder and begged for crackers.”

Luz pushed his shoulder. “Hey! You could have just said no thank you!” She hopped from one foot to another. “Look, Hunter, I know the last few days have been… odd. I know that being in the Owl House is just about the opposite of what your old life was like. And I know, I know, I know that you want to go back.”

“Yeah, I do.”

“Okay. Yeah. I just… you can come here. If you want. If you need.”

Hunter walked stiffly back towards the stairs. “It doesn’t matter. Because I’m going back home. And I’m not going to come back.”

“But—”

“I get it, okay, Luz, you’re the hero, Belos is the evil tyrant, and I’m—I don’t know—”

“Tragic-faced antihero?” Luz offered.

“Whatever! But I don’t need—” His voice cracked, and he looked down at the ground. “I don’t need your pity or your therapy or whatever it is you’re trying to do here. I have a place where I belong, and maybe it’s not perfect, maybe someone there is trying to kill me, but at least I have a purpose, and people listen to me. I appreciate you saving my life, Luz, I really do. But just… leave me alone, okay?”

Luz rubbed her arms. “Okay,” she said softly, walking past him to go back down the stairs, “If that’s what you want. I just… hoped that maybe we could be friends. But if you just want to be the Golden Guard instead… then I guess keep healing, keep on trying to get yourself back to normal. Because you wouldn’t want to stay away from the coven to hang out with a bunch of criminals, now would you?” She bit her wobbling lip. What had she expected? She’d said it wasn’t a business transaction, she wasn’t supposed to expect friendship from him.

But she’d hoped—just maybe…

“Luz—”

Luz hurried down the stairs while he followed more slowly. “I’m going to go visit Amity. I’ll see you at dinner. If you still want to be here.”

Xxx

Hunter groaned as Luz slammed the door shut behind her. “What did I do now?!”

His palisman twittered that it was actually pretty obvious, and likely had something to do with the fact that he’d literally just told her to leave him alone.

“I—okay, yeah, fine. But she had to know—I can’t just abandon everything for her! And… I don’t want her to get it into her head that I will. She’d end up more hurt that way. No. It’s way better that I establish that we’re not friends and let her down now, before she… before…”

The cardinal pecked his ear affectionately, chirping.

“I am NOT self-projecting! I never self-project! Name one time I’ve self-projected!”

One low chirp.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Hunter opened the door to a room he’d never been in before, shuffling in to see—

“My staff!” he blurted, limping across the room to grab it, “So this is where they’ve been hiding you!” He glanced around. This room was chock full to the brim with weapons, wow.

One knife caught Hunter’s attention, and suddenly he couldn’t breathe. He leaned his staff back up against the wall and gingerly picked up a knife, carved with runes. Its surface glittered up at him, cold and merciless, and his back ached as if he’d been stabbed all over again.

The knife fell to the floor with a clatter, and Hunter followed pretty fast, the events of the last few days all playing through his mind at lightning speed. He felt sick. Kikimora had come so close to killing him. And Luz would have taken the fall. It was a bit surprising how much that second thought upset him.

“Hunter?” Eda’s voice called, “Was that you?”

Hunter shoved the knife under his shirt, wrapping it up in the loose end. “Are you stockpiling for war in here?”

His palisman tweeted scoldingly at him. “Shhhh,” he hissed, “It’s not their knife either! I mean, Kikimora did give it to me.”

The bird chirped again, and Hunter caught the meaning perfectly.

Not funny.

Eda poked her head in. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” She peered down at him. “You okay? You’re looking a little pale.”

“Your skin is literally the color of paper.”

“Touché. Have you seen Luz?”

“She’s at the library.”

Eda “ah”ed knowingly. “Gotcha.”

“Why did you hide my staff?” Hunter blurted the words before he could think about it.

Eda sighed. “Honestly? At first it was because I wasn’t sure you wouldn’t use it to hurt Luz.”

“And… now?”

She eyed him. “Now I think I’m more worried about you hurting yourself. I wasn’t really hiding it, I just… wasn’t leaving it lying around.” She crossed the room and hefted the staff, giving it a twirl. “Handy. Reeks of Belos, though.”

Hunter snatched it away. “Belos gave me magic. Without him I’d be dead.”

Eda flicked the end of the staff. “Ever ask yourself how he made it? Who he had to squash to make something like this?”

Hunter collapsed the staff and tucked it in his belt, uncomfortably close to the hidden knife. “Do you usually spend this much of your time denouncing the emperor?”

“Only when I’m trying to convince someone that the Emperor’s Coven is a bad career track. Which it is.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, government bad, living like a crazy criminal in the woods good. I’ll keep that in mind.”

Xxx

“And I thought, y’know, since he was completely dependent on me for a few days he’d be a little bit more willing to be friends, but he’s not and—Amity, am I the bad guy for being upset?”

“No, of course not. He just…” Amity sighed. “When we were at eclipse lake, he said… well, he said a lot of stuff. But he said something about how everyone had a use, and if you didn’t… well, then you were out on your ear.”

“But I don’t need him to be useful!” Luz almost yelled, getting shushes from other library patrons. “Sorry,” she whispered, “I don’t need him to be useful,” she repeated more quietly, “And he shouldn’t have to feel that way! I don’t want to make him feel that way! But it seems like when I try to let him know that, he thinks it’s a personal attack!”

Amity laced her hand through Luz’s. “Just… give him time. Keep being nice. It worked on me. Worked a little too well. He’ll come around, too.”

Luz smiled a little bit at that. “Heh. Guess that’s true. Thanks, Amity.”

“Of course.” Amity held up a book. “Want to help me do voices in the next reading circle?”

“You know it!”

Xxx

Luz raced through the streets. Oh, she was late. She was so, so late! She made it to the forest, but halfway through, she slammed into a magic barrier. Luz touched it gently. “What the—”

“Human!”

Luz whirled around to see Kikimora standing there, breathing heavily, leaves in her hand-hair and mud and twigs caught in her robes. “Wow, you do not look so good.”

Kikimora took in a deep breath. “Human. I propose a trade. If you release the Golden Guard to me, I will speak on your behalf to the emperor. I will attempt to get you first access through our portal. You will be able to return home, no other strings attached.”

Luz shook her head. “You really don’t get it, do you? There is absolutely nothing that you can offer me that will get me to hand Hunter over. Maybe you’d sell someone out for one corn chip, but I wouldn’t.”

“Isn’t that noble.” Kikimora’s eyes flashed. “You know, you may have prompted my basilisk to run away. But using the real you as bait… Oh, well, I think that would be just as effective.”

Luz brought out her glyphs. “I’d like to see you try.”

Xxx

Hunter paced the floor. It was late—an hour past when the Owl House usually had dinner, if he had figured out their schedule right. “Eda? Luz didn’t sneak in a window, did she?”

Eda poked her head out of the kitchen. “Ah, geeze, is she still not back? She probably lost track of the time staring into Amity’s eyes again.” The wild witch opened the door, summoning her staff. “Alright, I’ll go get her.” She made an ‘I’m watching you’ gesture at King and Hunter. “Stay in the house. Both of you.”

She hopped on her staff and flew off. Hunter started pacing again. “Do you think she’s okay?”

“She’s probably fine. Geeze, when did you start getting all worried about her?”

“I just—” Hunter expanded his staff, inching towards the door. “I’ve got this feeling. I’m going to check. Just in case. Don’t tell Eda?”

King eyed him. “You’re being weird. But fine. I won’t tell her. You’d better hurry, though, it won’t take her long to check the library and come back.”

Hunter nodded and bolted out of the door, his palisman fluttering to his shoulder with a chirp.

“It’s just—Kikimora’s still out there. What if…”

Another chirp.

“I know she can handle herself, I just… I need to check, okay?” Hunter lit the tip of his staff. “Eda and King are probably right, it’s probably fine, but if it’s not… no one should have to face Kikimora alone.”

Xxx

Luz ducked behind a tree, panting, as Kikimora shot another magic blast at her. She really hadn’t anticipated how strong the little demon was, and she was running out of pre-drawn glyphs. She took in a deep breath, pulled out a glyph, and ducked around the tree, shooting a bolt of fire at Kikimora. The emperor’s assistant absorbed it in a magical shield, and responded with a blast of her own. Luz rolled to the side, but the blast shifted into a whip of golden energy that wrapped around her ankle, yanking her to the side and slamming her into a tree.

“It’s over,” Kikimora hissed.

Then a familiar red shape dive-bombed the demon, pecking at her head. Luz squinted. “…Lil Rascal?”

Hunter jumped over her, swinging his staff at Kikimora. The demon dodged to the side, her eyes wide.

“How?! You shouldn’t be able to—”

Hunter blasted magic at her. “Found a healer more clever than you.”

“You—you traitor, you’re working with the human?!”

Luz started to sketch in the dirt, tracing glyph after glyph in a sequence.

“What? Oh, Belos wants her alive, I’m making sure you don’t kill her.” Hunter zipped around her, scoring a hit with his staff, sending Kikimora flying. “Besides, you’ve got a lot of nerve calling me a traitor.”

“Enough!” Kikimora howled. She drew a circle, and a blast of magic caught Hunter squarely in the chest, knocking him back into a tree. She held out her hand, and his staff zoomed through the air to her. “You don’t deserve this,” she hissed, “I’ll deal with you in a moment.”

Lil Rascal dove back down, pecking at her head again, and she swatted them to the side. “Stupid bird.” She turned to Luz. “Now, where were—”

Luz slapped the glyph sequence, and a massive block of ice rose up, flying towards Kikimora. The demon blasted it with magic, cracking it open.

“You can’t hit me so—”

Luz grinned as the ice block started to glow. “Your mistake.”

The block exploded, throwing Kikimora backwards. Luz slumped backwards, drained. Wow, that had really taken a lot out of her. She winced. Plus, she was pretty sure she’d bruised a rib or two.

Kikimora staggered out of the crater. “I—will—end—you!” she howled, drawing another circle. Luz winced, bracing herself.

Kikimora fell forward with a scream. Luz blinked, then scrambled forward. The demon had a knife buried in her back.

An awfully familiar knife.

Hunter limped forward, Lil Rascal perched on his shoulder. He picked up his staff. “Good thing—I can throw a knife.” He nudged Kikimora with one foot. “Hey, are you dead? C’mon, I’m sure you can handle a knife in your back, I did.” Kikimora let out a guttural groan, and he nodded. “Good. Because you’re going to get to tell Belos what you did!”

“That’s it, then?” Luz panted, “You’re going back?”

He nodded. “Time I got a move on. Now that I don’t have to worry about her… no reason to stay away.”

Luz looked down at the ground. “Look. I… don’t have any glyphs left—and I don’t want to fight you. But if you try to capture me—”

He looked off back towards Bonesborough, eyes distant. “Wild magic is just. So strong and unpredictable.”

“What does that have to do with any—”

“I was so busy fighting Kikimora, it’s such a shame you got away while I was fighting for my life. But I just couldn’t handle two fights at once.”

“Huh?” Wait. “Oh! Are you—are you sure? What about Belos? Won’t he be mad if you come back without me?”

Hunter winced. “He’ll be angrier about Kikimora’s betrayal. I think. Hopefully.”

“What will you tell him? About what happened when you got stabbed, I mean.”

“The truth. That Kikimora attacked me. I was found by a kind Hexside student who took me in and brought me to a healer. Kikimora attacked me again on the way back, but I was able to defeat her this time.” He picked the demon up and slung her over one shoulder. “Just… go. Before I change my mind.”

Luz got up, a warm, fuzzy feeling blooming in her chest. “Thanks. I owe you one.”

Hunter bit his lip. “Uh—no. You—you don’t owe me anything.” He looked up at the sky, one foot tapping. “F-friends don’t… expect anything back.”

Luz thought she might just have to pick her jaw off of the ground. “Oh! I—”

He turned to go. “I’ve got to go. Eda’s looking for you, you might want to get back to the Owl House.”

“H-Hunter?”

He twisted back to look at her. “What?”

Luz rubbed her arms. “You think… that when all of this is over… no matter which side wins… you think we can still be friends?”

He turned away again. “That’s… it’s a nice thought, but I… I’m not sure this fight can end with both of us alive.”

“I wouldn’t kill you,” Luz called after him, “If we come out on top.”

“I’m not sure I have that same luxury,” he responded softly, “Goodbye, Luz. And… good luck.”

[whitewitch95]

alright, I'm usually over at twitter or discord spewing my thoughts and prompts, but I feel like the Merlin fandom is bigger over here, so maybe someone appreciates that

Thoughts and a fanfic prompt to s2ep07 The Witchfinder

Aredian accuses Merlin of magic bc of the amulet he placed in the physician's quarters, and from the look in his eye, presumably speculates that Gaius will "confess" that it's his - what Gaius of course does because he loves Merlin like his own son. During the episode, still-innocent Morgana is on Aredian's radar as well, just bc Gaius treated her nightmares, and we learn that although Gaius confesses, Aredian still wants to "expose Merlin and Morgana's evil deeds".

I feel like most people - once we realize that Aredian is an asshole who stages all the "sorcerer sightings" for money, and Arthur once more is more reasonable than Uther and helps Merlin save the day, who is actually doing all the work again - I feel like most people tend to forget that Aredian actually precisely accused 3 real sorcerers of sorcery. Yes, neither of them did what they'd been accused of, but nonetheless, Aredian points them out with eerie precision.

So WHAT IF Aredian actually has some weak magic himself? Like the "funny feelings" Merlin sometimes gets when he just instinctively knows shit's gonna go downhill or when he feels drawn towards other people's/being's magic? Like an actual witchfinder, you know, not skilled enough to play detective and catch sorcerers in the act, maybe not even interested in upholding the laws against sorcery or not, just as long as he gets payment and fame - but what if he makes those seemingly random *finger point* "THAT BOY" accusations that nobody ever questions bc of his own weak magic that makes him sensitive for it?

Okay, so now comes the prompt idea. We all probably laughed when cheeky Merlin exposes Aredian with that toad coming out of his mouth on top of everything else, but imagine he doesn't bc that would be too obvious and instead just places the "fake" evidence in his room - that would leave Aredian the opportunity to use his mouth.

So what if, while Arthur and the knights are searching the room, Aredian thunders that "THAT BOY placed this here, HE'S the sorcerer, you have EVIL IN YOUR CASTLE" and Arthur only scoffs because please, that man is just ridiculous. And then, like *Merlin* did in the actual episode, *Aredian* turns away, half-hidden from view, whispers a spell that has Merlin's magic reacting, body spasming and eyes golden.

And Merlin is just standing there, struggling to hold his magic inside and not have it lashing out, and Aredian is smirking bc there's no way to explain that away, surely he has won now-

And Arthur whirls around, punching Aredian in the face, yelling at his knights about stuffing that man's mouth with a cloth before he says any more spells, and when Aredian fights them bc he finally realizes he's about to lose and then moves towards Morgana, Arthur runs him through with his sword.

Aredian is dead.

Merlin is still breathing hard, even though his magic has settled once again, and while everyone is shocked and panting and Arthur assures himself of Morgana's wellbeing, Merlin is On Edge. Because that was his actual magic reacting, and his own eyes turning golden in response to the spell, and a room full of knights, and Morgana, and Arthur were watching.

But when they all return to Uther, Arthur relays the story and it sounds as if Aredian, traitor of Camelot and apparently an evil sorcerer that has sent innocent people into their death, has enchanted Merlin to look as if he had magic, JUST like he did with hiding that amulet in Gaius chambers, to put the blame onto someone else.

Nobody questions it, not even Uther.

Merlin feels the tightness in his chest lessen, finally able to breathe normally again. He wants to laugh, really. Arthur is SO CONVINCED that his manservant is nothing more than a bumbling, but highly loyal idiot - and he has tried to protect Merlin, he remembers, right in front of Aredian and Uther and the whole court - that Arthur doesn't even consider Merlin could actually have magic.

When the day winds down, Merlin helps Arthur getting ready for bed, serving him dinner, tidying his chambers, still tired and wary, but incredibly relieved.

Until Arthur says, "So, Merlin," and Merlin freezes because that tone sounds chilling. Carefully, he straightens up and looks at Arthur, who's watching him with frighteningly intense eyes, gaze piercing. "Anything you have to say?"

"Uhm," Merlin hesitates, unsure what exactly Arthur means, heart beating wildly. "I don't know what you mean, Sire," he settles on, but that seems to be the wrong thing to say.

Arthur narrows his eyes. "Oh, I don't know. Maybe 'thank you', but I know manners aren't your strong suit, so how about the truth?"

"The truth?" Merlin laughs nervously, dear god, he shouldn't have let his guard down-

"YES, Merlin, the truth," Arthur growls, and then he's out of his chair, stomping towards Merlin. "Because I can assure you, this was the last time I've lied to my knights and my father and the entire court for you if you don't even have it in you to tell me the TRUTH!"

Arthus has him cornered against the bedpost now, and Merlin is trembling ever so slightly. Arthur's eyes are blazing, like a blue, furious thunderstorm, and Merlin knows there's no escaping this; especially because Arthur is right.

So he talks. He's hesitant at first, reinforcing that everything they found out about Aredian is the truth, that Merlin did not lie, that he did not *once* betray Arthur, or Camelot. Arthur looks as if he isn't sure if he fully believes Merlin, but he listens, and that is more than Merlin could've hoped for.

In the end, Merlin's voice is rough from talking, his face pale and tight with worry. Arthur has stepped back from him a while ago, first crossing his arms and snapping out questions, and then he started pacing.

"I swear," Merlin says lowly, "I never intended to bring anyone harm. I was born like this... and I have finally found a purpose."

"And what would that be, Merlin?" Arthur asks, but he doesn't sound harsh; he sounds tired, staring into the flames of the fireplace.

Merlin gulps. Now or never. "Protecting you. I- I wanted to tell you, but I didn't want you to have to choose. Because no matter the outcome... it would've burdened you."

Still staring into the flames, Arthur laughs humorlessly. "And yet it seems I did it anyway."

At Merlin's silence, Arthur finally turns, and he almost looks sick. "Does Gaius know?"

"Yes," Merlin whispers, but he's not afraid that Arthur will punish Gaius for it. Arthus isn't Uther.

"Of course," Arthur mumbles, and his eyes show that he's working through what he's heard so far. "How could he not know? After all, a quite powerful warlock is living with him."

Shifting uncomfortably, Merlin wonders if there's anything he can say to make it easier for anyone, but there are no words he can think of.

Arthur scoffs, shaking his head. "That... that can't be..." he trails off, and he's reeling more than Merlin has ever seen him before. "That would mean-"

Abruptly, Arthur turns away, aiming for his chair, before he whirls around again and once more stomps towards Merlin.

"If you're telling the truth," Arthur snaps, and there's a threatening expression on his face, before it softens at Merlin's flinch. "Then why aren't you affected by the magic? Why do you still want to protect me, so much so that you're putting yourself at risk everyday?"

"I," Merlin starts, unsure. "I told you, I think... that you'll be a great king, and I-"

Arthur shakes his head. "No," he interrupts. "Why is the magic not tainting you? Why... why are you still you?" he finishes, quieter.

Merlins heart feels incredibly tender. "Because magic is just a tool, Arthur. Like sword fighting. A tool that some people can use, and some can't. A tool that sometimes is used for good, and sometimes for evil. Having magic says nothing about a person - but the way they use it does."

Silence, only the crackling of the fire can be heard as Merlin watches Arthur's face, seeing the emotions flit over it, the horrible realization. "Then..."

Merlin doesn't say anything. This is a conclusion Arthur should draw, alone, without Merlin's influence.

Arthur looks up, and the light of a candle reflects in his eyes. He looks vulnerable. Pleading. Incredibly young.

Merlin waits as Arthur turns away once more, running a hand through his golden hair, shoulders tense.

"If it's alright with you," Merlin carefully starts, "I'd look after Gaius now. He's gone through hell these past few days."

"Yes, yes," Arthur agrees, sounding crumpled under the weight of tonight's revelations. "Please pass on my well wishes to him again. What happened to him was... unjust." He gets hung up on that word apparently, because he repeats it under his breath, like a death sentence. "Unjust."

Tentatively, Merlin steps towards Arthur, but he doesn't know if it will be welcome right now.

"Goodnight, Sire."

The door has almost closed behind Merlin when he hears the faint "Goodnight" in return. He smiles. Maybe, just maybe, the horrors since the witchfinder arrived are leading the way to their destiny.

Addition: Maybe, because Arthur's actually kind of smart, he realized that Merlin has magic earlier, but tried to convince himself that he hasn't. And maybe Arthur puts two and two together about the witchfinder having actual magic, and he asks Merlin about Morgana. And maybe that would save her, and the kingdom, and ultimately himself. Just saying.

[amphtaminedreams]

Paris Haute Couture Week S/S 2020 Plus a Little Jacquemus: Okay, Dior DID Suck (Part 2/2)

Hi to anyone reading,

First of all, thank you! I have never had a post do as well as the part 1 of my haute couture week review did and I am so overwhelmed with the positive feedback. This is probably funny to read for those of you getting thousands of reblogs on your posts, me acting like I won an academy award because I got a couple of hundred, but honestly I don’t expect any traction when I write on here (it’s basically just me word vomiting everything I’m thinking as if people want to hear it aka. mouthing off into what I thought was the void) so if you did read it, thank you! I do spend a long-ass time on these so it means a lot:-)

I’ll leave the self-indulgent ramble there though as it’s probably not what you came for and jump straight into part 2 of my thoughts, starting with Jacquemus. Yeah, I knew what I was doing when I tagged that in my last post. Simon Porte Jacquemus is the man of the *fashion* people right now; I’ve even found myself coming round to the Le Chiquito bag despite my original thought being “well, that’s fucking useless”. I know, I know, technically it’s not haute couture; it was part of Men’s Fashion Week, but it happened around the same time and everyone was talking about it on Twitter, so I feel like I have to include it.

In a way, it kind of reminds me of Bottega Veneta’s last RTW show, in that, especially with the women’s outfits, we seem to be sticking with simple, fitted garments and chunky, more statement jewellery. I’ve got to say I like the styling here a lot more though, and in general I’m a fan of this collection. The collared tops with cut outs underneath blazers are cool and I can’t wait until it gets warm enough for me to not feel dumb wearing my headscarfs like this; there’s a LOT of summer outfit inspiration. It’s not a mind-blowing collection or anything but it is effortlessly sexy and that’s something I wish I could say about myself. Most of us can only hope to look half as good as these models do whilst making the effort but at least Jacquemus is aspirational, lol. 

I also fucking adore this colour palette. I’m sick of neutrals literally just meaning brown and white; the navy, sand and muted khaki is a fresh edition to what is usually interpreted as the colours you’d seen worn by Disney’s Riverboat Cruise staff and only Disney’s Riverboat Cruise staff. And I mean, come on-what is more neutral than typical English school carpet blue.

Next for the whole reason I had to make this haute couture week review 2 separate posts: Jean Paul Gaultier’s final show.

In the best way possible, it’s a lot. I don’t even really know where to start, except to say that I guess this is a fitting last show; a celebration of everything campy, messy, weird, performative, and punk is the perfect send off for a brand whose best known perfume of the last few years is called Scandal. More than anything, the final show represented the range of characters and cultures that have influenced JPG throughout his half-a-decade-long career, the lines that supposedly separate what is “masculine” and “feminine”, “old” and “young” and ultimately art and fashion blurred in the most exaggerated way possible. Sure, there are some looks which are individually a bit messy here but the way they were grouped into almost chapter-like segments meant that when you see them all together, they work. Nods to the patterns and structures that recurred from season to season were sprinkled throughout, from sailor stripes to corsets to the expected whirlwinds of colour. I’ll even allow the wellies in that one outfit; if I can get over bucket hats in Peter fucking Pilotto’s last RTW show, I can get over some questionable shoes here. Middle aged fishermen and boys who liked to pose with monster carp in their Tinder pictures as some weird display of masculinity everywhere rejoice.

Now onto a show that I personally found slightly disappointing: Margiela.

I think this one is a bit TOO weird for me. Like if you’re gonna go avant-garde, go all out. Chiffon gimp masks (I don’t know if that’s the intention here but that’s what I’m getting, sorry Maison) are something I’m not particularly fond of and I’ve never been a fan of the Tabi boots in the first place, let alone when they’ve seemingly been blown up to Michelin man style proportions. I didn’t find the show to be a total lost cause-I enjoyed the colour palette and I’ve always liked that contrast stitching detail, plus the bowler hats are interesting-but on the whole considering how much I liked the last RTW show, this is a bit of a let down. 

The looks I included are salvageable but (I feel mean saying this) there were genuinely a lot of pieces that did just resemble bits of fabric draped over each over with no discernible rhyme or reason, so much so that they reminded me of some of the monstrosities I saw at a Drag Race pub quiz this one time where we had 5 mins to make some garms out of loo roll and then have a team member model them for points down a makeshift runway. 

Ralph and Russo was alright. There were a few pieces that I really liked but again, I can’t help but compare this collection to the last, where it felt like the fussy details of bows and sequins and feathers and the Barbie Dreamhouse palette were utilised with a direction in mind. Here, I don’t get that. As ever, the gowns are gorgeous and I’d pay good money just to try one on for five minutes but as an overall collection I’d say there was a lack of higher vision, which is probably the snobbiest sentence I’ve ever written so forgive me.

As for Ronald Van Der Kemp, I could’ve done without including it to be honest, if it weren’t for the few pieces I’m in love with: the velvet cape, fur trimmed jacket and blue satin dress are probably my favourite pieces here.

So onto a collection I liked a lot more: Schiaparelli. 

The influence of nature from flowers in bloom to insects to the organic structure of the human skeleton is as present as ever, though this collection includes a lot more delicate symbolism than usual. Honestly, the details make it for me; the brooches, earrings and facial jewellery are other-worldly touches to outfits that could otherwise be simple fashion magazine editor on-the-go. That’s not in itself a bad thing! The suits are gorgeous. I mean, I’m talking fashion editor in New York in a power suit yelling orders down the phone while she rushes along with a coffee. A Miranda Priestley in the making type woman. THAT’S a modern take on the divine feminine that Maria Grazia should’ve been going for; our goddesses aren’t women who sit around looking pretty (though that helps too) and place curses on mere mortals anymore, they’re women who get shit done. 

With regards to Valentino, which was also a delight, let me start by saying this colour palette is EVERYTHING. It’s ugly sisters in Cinderella fantastic, and we know those 2 were the real fashion icons really. Other than that, I adore the Old Hollywood silhouettes from the gloves to the Liz Taylor-in-Cleopatra-level-dramatic earrings. Everything is opulent and expensive-looking and pretty much what we’ve all come to expect from Valentino. A strong 8/10.

For me personally, Viktor and Rolf was a standout and one of my favourite collections of haute couture week. It’s not going to be everyone’s cup of tea and I know it’s at the complete opposite end of the spectrum to what was probably my other favourite collection, Elie Saab, but this is just my style down to a T, the perfect balance of grungy and cutesy that I want to achieve. 

There’s probably going to be a lot of objections to the temporary face tattoos and I get that, but I think they’re fucking sick. I obviously wouldn’t get a permanent one lest my mother murder me in cold blood however if I did, you bet I would be pairing them with frilly-ass babydoll dresses that you could pick up in Camden Market like this. 

And last but not least (that would be Dior), there’s Zuhair Murad.

Sigh.

IDK, man. Seeing Zuhair Murad dresses on Tumblr and WeHeartIt (remember that site? It still exists!) as a 14 year old was one of the things that got me into fashion, so it sucks that almost every time a new collection comes around, I feel underwhelmed. Disappointingly, the brand hasn’t really progressed all that much since 2013. It goes without saying that the stoning and the embroidery and sequins are stunning and would make anyone feel like a princess but from a critical point of view, I’m just not seeing anything new here. Whereas I feel like Elie Saab, for example, reflected the growing fascination with East Asian fashion and recognition of the supremacy of the region’s street style in his haute couture last collection, Zuhair Murad seems to be stuck designing the same dresses he was 6 years ago. 

To pick one example, the rounded stoned necklines are so outdated that they’ve been making their way onto department store prom dresses for years. I get that it’s supposed to be a reference to Ancient Egyptian style and I respect that, I was one of those 8 year old that was obsessed with mummies and the “Curse of Tutankhamun”, but couldn’t it be done in a more interesting way? It’s Maria Grazia’s spin on Ancient Greece all over again. Now I get how how the I imagine very niche subsection of people who are into fashion and Julius Caesar (okay, so I don’t even know if they still believed in mythology and all that malarky at that point in history but just roll with my comparison here) might’ve felt going through Vogue Runway. Anyway, I hate to end on a critical note and so be clear, these are still absolutely magnificent dresses. If we ignore those ugly round necklines, that is.

So that’s it for this post! If you read part 1 and 2, I hope you enjoyed it! As always, let me know your opinions and feel free to disagree. I’m literally just about to start trawling through all the A/W 2020 RTW collections though I imagine that’s gonna take me way longer to do than this, so I wouldn’t expect that for a month or two. In the meantime, I’m trying to fit shooting a Euphoria-inspired lookbook into my days off work which is looking atm like it’s going to be the end of March, so look out for that, and also a review of the red carpet fashion from this season’s award shows. 

As ever, thank you so much for reading and again, thank you for the reception on part 1 if you were one of the people that read it. It makes staying up til 3am with the jitters seem worthwhile, lol! 

Lauren x

[advicewithkali]

Mistake, Maybe (Chapter One Draft)

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“What’s up guys, today we’re visiting Woodhils University to surprise a girl name Aubrey and her friend, who say they’re my biggest fans!” David sayid as he yelled into the camera.

He then turns his camera off and holds it in his left hand.

“David, how big of a fan are we exactly talking?” Jason inquires while chewing on green mint-flavored gum.

“I have to show you guys the video she sent me on twitter, I think she’s literarily my biggest fan. Check it out!” He said as he rummages through the slender small pocket of his black jean.

“You too, Jeff! You’re not going to believe this!” He yelled excitedly.

Jeff trudged over to the duo reluctantly, not really interested in the video David was about to show them or the visiting the university at all. David then pulled out his phone and opened the Twitter app, immediately going to his DMs. He scrolled through the messages for a second, before he landed on the video.

“Are you guys ready for this, it’s literally insane.” He said with pure excitement in his voice.

“David, come on just play it already,” Jason responded.

“Okay, okay, give me a sec.” He said as he turned his phone horizontally so that all three of them could see the video clearly. David then clicked on the video and let it play.

“My name is Aubrey and uh-sorry I’m a little nervous and excited uh.” She said as she began to fidget on her wooden chair. “Oh, my God David! Please, please, please come visit my school! I’m literally your biggest fan.” She abruptly blurted out quickly and loudly.

“She really is!” A female voice yelled in the background before quickly coming into the view of the camera.

“She’s literally obsessed with you, David. It’s bad. It’s so bad that we even have a “David Jar” in our dorm room. Anytime she mentions your name- mind you which is like every other sentence she has to put a dol- “She said before her explanation was interrupted by a slim hand muffling her speech.

“Sophie, shut up! Don’t say all of that shit. He’ll think I’m crazy! I’m trying to get him to visit us not run away, stupid!” Audrey yelled in slight frustration.

“Heh, sorry David uh, sometimes Sophie just says too much. Ha, you guys know how it is.” She said slightly nervous again as muffled noises began to come out from behind Audrey's hand.

“But anyway, David if you would come to visit me-us at Woodhill University dorm room 274 I would literally die, well no- but yes, okay gotta go bye!” She said yelled slightly frazzled and waved bye to the camera, along with a still muffled Sophie.

As the screen faded black, David turned around to face Jason and Jeff. “Can you guys believe that shit?” David asked still feeling ecstatic.

“David, I then she might be a little- off.” Jason trailed off and stopped chewing his gum.

“Ugh, Jason. Jeff please, please say you’re siding with me on this.” He said looking towards Jeff.

“Hell no, David. I’m siding with Jason on this one. You go there and you’re dead.” He said not sounding entertained with this idea.

“Well, if the two and the rest of the guys go, then I won’t be alone, no chance. Besides this will make some sick vlog footage! Jason told me it wouldn’t!” He said trying to convince them.

“It would but not if our lives at risk, David,” Jason said sounding slightly worried. “It’ll be fine. We’ll call up everyone and we’ll be all set. Nothing’s going to happen, Jason.”

Jason let out a deep sigh, “Alight, David. Let’s do this.

“Yes!” David said sounding thrilled. “What about you Jeff?” David said looking in his diffraction once again.

“I’m gonna pass. I don’t want to get murdered or risk going to prison again.” He said as he started to walk away.

“Wait, Jeff! If you don’t go how will you ever get that girlfriend, you said you wanted.” David said knowing that he had reeled Jeff back into his plan.

Jeff stopped abruptly in his steps, regretting a few months ago when he told the whole squad that he had been looking to find a serious relationship because now it was backfiring on him.

“Come on Jeff, at least one of those girls had to be your type!” Jason teased as he continued to chew the gum in his mouth.

Jeff smirks small as he turns around quickly, “Really, Jason? I pegged them more of your type don’t you like them young.” Jeff said as he was alluding to his tumultuous relationship with notorious Youtuber Trisha Paytas. They were twelve years apart.

“What?!” Jason yelled trying to act as if he didn’t know what Jeff was referring too. “That’s what you’re going to do old man? Act like you have no clue what or WHO I’m referring too.” He said as he chuckled.

“Of course, I do! I just don’t want to think about the past at all.” Jason said as he tried to make up an excuse.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Tell the truth Jase, is it because you don’t want Tris- “He said before he was cut off by a series of objections coming from Jason.

“No, no, no! Don’t say that name! I don’t want any more drama!” He pleaded. Jason, then took his eyes off of Jeff and glanced to his right and saw that David was filming their whole conversation.

“No, David! Do not put that in! Delete it!” He screamed as he waved his hands in front of the camera trying to block it from recording any further.

David just giggled as he blocked all of Jason’s attempts to shield his camera. “Are you kidding that clip was too good not to put in! Think of the views Jason, the views!” He said jokingly.

“David, no. I’m going through this all over again with her, I’m begging you not to put that clip in.” Jason said feeling exhausted.

David stopped moving and lowered his camera as he pondered for a bit. A few moments later, he began to speak, “How about this?” He said with a smirked.

Jason, looked into David’s brown eyes, “Really, you’re betting on my life right now.” He said knowing too well that, that statement followed by that smirk never meant a good thing. Jason knew from the past that meant that David was thinking, plotting really, and it sucked to be on the other end.

Jason let out a slow sigh, “What is it?” He spoke in a defeated manner.

“Nothing, much. It’s nothing much just two small things.” He said.

Jason gave him a look of disbelief knowing that when David meant small, he really meant large and at times very extreme.

Jeff moved closer to the duo as he began to take interest in something regarding the vlog for the first time today.

“The first part includes Zane- “

“Oh God, I’m screwed!” Jason shouted out.

Jeff’s left eyebrow raised as he took more interest in the situation unfolding before him.

David laughed as he continued to speak, “So Zane has to come out of this party without hurting himself, breaking anything, or hurting someone else.” He said.

“I’m doomed,” Jason said weakly.

Jeff chuckled as Jason began to panic waiting for David to announce the second part to his “wicked” plan.

“The second part involves Jeff,” David said laughing harder as he observed Jeff’s facial expression.

“Me? Why the hell am I involved in this!?” He questioned loudly.

“I’m glad you asked Jeff, because if you don’t find a genuine connection with a girl tonight then I guess Jason will be on Drama alert this week.

“Yeah, and how are you going to be able to tell if I made a genuine connection or not? You gonna stalk me like your little super fan?” He said in a brazen tone.

“Ha, no. I’ll ask you some questions, see if they add up and if they don’t well… It’s Killer Keemstar for Jason.” He said as he tried to imitate Keemstar.

“Wow, David. You’re crazier than I thought. You sure you aren’t part of the Slovakian mob or something?” Jeff asked.

“Nope, just doing it for some content.” He said casually.

“Jeff please tell me you got this. Please.” Jason begged again. “What am I saying, of course, you do. Look at you, the real problem is Zane. I’ve got to call him!”

“Don’t worry Jason, I’ve got your back.” He said but for the first time in years, he wasn’t confident about the words that came out of his mouth. After all, it had been so long since he’s made a genuine connection with anyone, let alone a girl. He’s a thirty-year-old man, with a lonely apartment, a dog, and a group of wilds friends, could he really get real and open with someone at this point in his life? Let alone in one night?

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“What’s up guys, so the squad and I are right outside of Aubrey’s door and we’re about to knock.” He whispered slightly as he filmed the members of the vlog quad, which insisted on Zane, Heath, Mariah, Jason, Erin, Carly, Toddy, Jason, Jonah, and Jeff. Then turned the camera back on the door room, 247.

David smiled brightly as he began to knock on the door. The door instantly and swung open, slamming into the bedroom wall. The squad was greeted with the sounds of loud squeals and jumping up and down coming to a brown skin girl with dark brown long hair and a slim thick body and a bright smile from an olive-colored girl with long black hair, dark brown eyes, and freckles.

“You must be Aubrey, right?’ David said with his well-known smile. “Yes. Yes! That’s me!” She said as she switched from jumping up and down to bouncing on the heels of her feet.

“Can I- Can I hug you, David?” She asked.

“Of course!” He yelled as he pulled her in for a hug. The pair hugged for a few moments before David pulled away.

“And you must me Sophie?” He asked.

“It’s Sophia actually everyone usually calls me Sophie or Soph. I really don’t care which one you call me by I’ll still respond.” She said chucking.

“I think you guys should come in before Audrey explodes. Plus, it’s Taco and Tequila Tuesdays and you don’t want to be outside for that.” She warned.

“Mhm, that sounds so good right now!” Zane yelled from the back of the group.

“Zane!” Jason grumbled under his voice as he elbowed Zane on the left side of his ribcage.

“Right, right. I forgot.” He responded back as he retreated slightly from the conversation.

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Jeff’s P.O.V

David was the first one to walk in the dorm room. Followed by everyone else. I was hesitant to walk in. I can’t really say I feel comfortable being on a college campus filled with people- kids about a decade my senior. And David really expects me to find a genuine connection with one of them. He’s clearly lost his mind.

As I walked into the cramped and small room, I noticed how differently each side was decorated. On the right was a very bright, pink, and girly side, it had to be Aubrey’s side of the room. It was pretty much like any other college dorm you’d see. While the other side was decorated in an alternative way. It was darker and had stacks of books, CDs and records, and band posters. I wonder who’s side it was. Not, Sophia’s. It doesn’t seem to match her personality.

I continued to analyze the room as everyone gathered around Aubrey’s bed. I then spotted a small shuffle out of the side of my left eye. I looked closer and saw that it was a girl. She was stunning. She had the most beautiful smooth brown skin and pillow-soft curls. I continued to stare in her direction as I observed her reading a book.

I guess I stared too long because she looked up in my direction before quickly turning away, huddling down in her book further. I was taken back slightly; I had never had that reaction before from someone. I guess she was just shy. I didn’t really know but I wanted too.

I kept looking in her direction a few moments longer, hoping she would look up at me again. Unfortunately, it didn’t happen as I was knocked out of my trance by Toddy when he elbowed me in my right ribcage.

“Dude, you alright? You zoned out for a while there.” He questioned. “Yeah…. I’m fine.” I said back, still not fully paying attention to him.

“Well then come on, Audrey’s about to answer some questions and prove that she’s David’s number one fan!” He yelled at the top of his lungs. Before he could move, he glances back at the girl in the corner and saw her twitch slightly and move closer into the corner as she turned her back towards him.

With that, I finally joined the rest of my friends. I didn’t sit.  I told everyone that I felt better standing but in reality, I was uncomfortable being in this room. Not only was it a room for college kids but something was very off about the vibes in this room.

I left my train of thought to try and pay attention to what was going on before me. I tried my hardest to be entertaining and put on the “Jeff character” but I was so distracted by the girl in the corner. Every second I spent in this room I just wanted to turn my head and peek over at her even if it was for just a second.

“Okay, okay! Next question, “What sport did members of the vlog squad play that eventually lead to a kiss between Heath and me? I heard David ask.

“No way she’s going to get this one!” I heard Heath scream.

“Baby, it’s a wrap you ain’t getting this one!” Zane yelled in agreement.

“If she gets this one, I’m done I’m just- I can’t!” Toddy yelled right beside me.

I then looked up at Aubrey and saw a look of determination on her face followed a smirk and small glimmer of some something I couldn’t put my finger on, in her eyes.

“Beer Bottle Frisbee.” She said with all the confidence in her voice. Her answer was met with extremely loud cheers. As everyone was distracted, I turned my head quickly in the direction the mysterious girl was sitting and saw her getting up. I immediately turned my head back around, this time looking down in hopes of seeing where she was off too.

To my surprise, she ended up leaving without anyone noticing. While everyone was still cheering, I took this as an opportunity to go speak to her. I waited a few seconds before I slipped out of the room quietly and followed the direction, I saw her go in.

As I walked down the hallway, I saw piles of garbage, toilet paper streamers, and drunk guys getting loud in the hallway. This gave me even more of an incentive to find this girl. She doesn’t seem like the type to be safe in this environment.

I followed her for what seemed like an hour. I made sure to keep my distance. I didn’t want her to know that I was following her. I guess I could throw that thought right out the window because this is when she completely stopped walking.

“P-please stop following me.” She said with her back still turned to me.

I just continued to stare at her for a second before I spoke, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I just wanted to talk to you.” I said, trying to find the right words to say to her. For some reason, my confidence with this girl was swaying.

“Why?” She mumbled lowly.

I walked closer to her until I was a few inches away from her.

“I can’t really come up with an excuse right now. There really shouldn’t be an excuse to talk to a pretty girl, so I won’t say one. I’ll tell the truth. There’s- there’s something about you something different that drew me into you and I just wanted to get to know you.” I said as I smiled.

“I’m Jeff,” I said as I held my hand out and continued to smile.

She turned around fully after I said my name. I could’ve sworn I stopped breathing for a second as I took in her full appearance. I felt wrong in away because I knew she was too young, but I pushed those thoughts aside because this opportunity was too perfect to miss.

I continued to hold out my hand and smile but her facial expression never changed, and she never made and moves to shake my hand. I looked at trying to predict what she would do. She then began to shuffle on her feet and moved her arms to wrap around her body.

“I know.” She whispered lowly. I wasn’t quite sure how to react to her reactions. She seemed so scared and guarded.

“Uh, so you watch the vlogs then?” I asked trying to then of something to get relive some of the awkwardness.

“Um, yeah sometimes. Mostly when I have free time form classes and studying.” She said with a little more pep as she looked up at me.

I smiled small. She finally said something more than one word.

“Not like your roommate, right?” I said as I chuckled lightly. Her face faltered at the mention of her roommate.

“No.” She said quietly again.

“So, I didn’t get your name,” I said.

“It’s ah Kamora. Kamora Maxwell.” She said facing me again with those big brown eyes. Even her name matched her.

“Everyone usually goes crazy for David and the vlog squad and you left? Not your type of YouTubers?” I asked trying to get her to speak more and refraining from personal or sensitive topics.

“Um, I’m just not much of a social person. And I do like you- um you guys but I like to see you guys as normal individuals. I don’t want to separate the human qualities from you guys just because you well know.” She said.

She’s attractive and smart, the full package.

“Believe it or not, I’m not social either,” I said being completely honest.

She looked at me intrigued.

“Yeah from the vlogs and my channel I look like this super social guy, but I hate it. I like to be independent and do my own thing. Don’t get me wrong I like my group of friends but sometimes I just need to retreat to my cave and recharge.” I said just blurting out how I felt. For some reason, I felt completely safe confiding in her.

She nodded her head in agreeance with me.

“So where are you from? You kind of have an accent but I can’t pinpoint it.” I said.

“I’m from New York City, actually.” She said.

“You’re lying!” I shouted getting a bit excited. She shook her no.

“What part?” I asked, knowing it wasn’t Staten Island.

“The Bronx.” She responded back.

“The Bronx, huh? I know a couple people up that way. They’re cool guys. I outta visit them when I head back home again.” I said reminiscing slightly.

“Since you watch the vlogs then you probably know that I’m from Staten Island- “

“The Forgotten Island,” We said in unison.

I chuckled at that and smiled at her.

We stood in silence for a few moments before I began to speak again. “It’s funny how we both ended up moving from one side of the country to the other. It’s crazy to think about how bad my life was going. The decisions and the people I were hanging out with put me right in prison. But, I’m so glad I was given another chance at life and I’m finally able to live a decent life.” I said as I opened up to her.

“For some reason, I feel like you weren’t like me. You needed up her for some reason and I-“I said before she interrupted me.

“I- I’m sorry. I-I can’t do this!” She yelled as she took a few tentative steps back before bolting past me.

I stood there in shock for a few moments. What did she mean that she “couldn’t do this”? Did she mean socializing in general or just talking to me? Was it something I said? I didn’t really know what to say or do at this moment all I knew was I had to find her and I had to make things okay.

[paradisobound]

I Want It, I Got It: Chapter 25

Summary: Phil Lester was a worker for the BBC in London. Working in the advertising department, he was content being alongside his friend and fellow coworker PJ during every shift. However, the BBC is temporarily being used as a film set for a new movie staring Hollywood ‘It’ star, Daniel Howell. Being stuck as an extra on the set, Phil finds it’s hard to ignore the famous star. And maybe, just maybe, Dan finds it hard to ignore Phil as well.

Word Count: 2.1k (this chapter)

Warnings: Occasional swearing

Rating: Explicit

Updates will be every Sunday around 1pm EST

**MASTERLIST | READ ON AO3 | WATTPAD**

Phil doesn’t bring up the Instastory to Dan. He let’s Dan remain asleep on his chest even though his heart is beating so fast that surely, Dan can feel it under his head. Phil texted Martyn back saying that he definitely did not see it and it made him feel a bit sick. 

He didn’t want to believe that Dan did it on purpose. A part of him tells him that he hopes that Dan was messing around and went to delete it and posted it instead. But another part was punching his gut and telling him that Dan posted that photo to get a rise out of everyone. He wanted people to to be tense about this. 

For many people, seeing Spike on Dan’s instastory was probably not even weird. They just assumed that maybe Dan adopted a dog or he was with a dog for emotional support. Dan did mention sometimes in interviews that he would go to specialized places for emotional support animals and sometimes hold the dogs for a bit and play with them. Maybe people assumed the same. 

But for other people, the hardcore stans of Dan and some even of Phil, they would recognize Spike from Phil’s Twitter and Instagram. They would recognize his blue collar and his distinct markings on his fur. There is no mistaking that that is Spike in Dan’s photo. 

And furthermore, the headlines on social media definitely are saying the same. 

Was this why PJ and Gemma were acting so weird earlier? Had they seen the post and both just never told Phil? Did they assume that Phil approved to the post? 

Phil’s head was swimming and he was finding it hard to form his thoughts coherently. 

Dan woke up a little before midnight, rubbing his eyes a bit before sitting up and rolling off from Phil and kneeling onto the floor next to the couch as he woke up. He then stood up and Phil just smiled at him and Dan gave him a strange look as he pushed his hair back down into place from being matted up. 

“You okay?” Dan asks. “Did I crush you while I was sleeping? You could have shoved me off. I wouldn’t have minded.” 

“It’s nothing.” Phil realizes after he spoke that his voice is tight and constricted. 

Dan furrowed his brows. “Okay, well now I definitely know something is wrong so tell me what’s up.” 

Phil sighed. “Why did you do it, Dan?” 

Dan’s face fell and Phil watches as his eyes glassed over. “Do what?” 

“Post that story on your Instagram!” Phil doesn’t know when his voice decided to rise in volume but the way Dan flinched told him he definitely was on the verge of yelling. He didn’t want to yell. He was just upset. 

“Phil, I meant nothing by that!” Dan quickly pushed. “I posted it as just a stupid thing. I can delete it, I promise!” 

“Everyone has seen it Dan!” Phil countered. “The media has seen it. The fans have seen it. Everyone knows that that is my dog in that Instastory.” 

“Phil, I wasn’t thinking…” 

“We said we were going to be more careful so we could have our privacy!” Phil interrupted. “And you broke it by posting that!” 

Phil looked at Dan and watched as a stray tear fell down his cheek and suddenly, he felt awful and his heart felt even more strained that it before. He immediately slipped off from the couch and kneeled next to Dan. 

“I’m sorry.” Dan whispered. “I didn’t think…” 

“I know.” Phil said, reaching up and placing his hand gently on Dan’s cheek. “I’m sorry for getting upset.” 

Dan shook his head and removed Phil’s hand from his cheek. “No, don’t apologize. I was a dumbass. You can just tell me that straight up.” He let out a watery sigh and reached up, wiping the unshed tears from under his eyes. “I probably just a made a giant fucking mess and Marianne is gonna kill me.” 

Dan reached down and pulled his phone out of his pocket and let out a loud sigh. “35 missed calls, all from Marianne.” He stood up and ran his hand through his hair. “I have to call her back and make some phone calls. I need someplace quiet.” 

Phil nodded and looked up at him. “You can take my room.” 

Dan nodded and flashed him a smile but Phil could tell how much this was bothering him now that he was witnessing the implications of something he thought was going to be a simple post. 

Dan shut the door behind him to the bedroom and Phil never heard a word that was said by him to Marianne or anyone else he was talking to. During the time he was on the phone, Phil took a shower and then let out Spike for one more sleepy bathroom break to the courtyard. 

He doesn’t know truly when Dan got off from the phone because he fell asleep on the couch. However, when he wakes up a short time later to his back aching, he hears the sound of sobs coming from his bedroom and it alarms him enough to wake up fully and rush in there. 

Seeing Dan curled into a ball on his bed, still in his clothing, hugging Spike to his chest as he cried was one of the saddest sights Phil has ever seen in his lifetime. He rushes over to the bed and climbs in behind Dan and wraps his arms around his middle and holds him close. 

Dan eventually cries himself to sleep but Phil remains awake until his alarm goes off for work. 

***

When Phil leaves for work, Dan is still asleep, completely exhausted from crying the night before. Phil didn’t get a chance to talk to him before he left but he did kiss Dan’s cheek before he left and tried to ignore how it was still a bit damp. 

When he gets to the BBC, he has paparazzi waiting for him and ignores them by pulling the collar of his jacket up past his face and hiding as he flashes his badge and runs into the building. 

PJ is already at his desk like always and Phil feels himself feel a bit more relaxed seeing it was just PJ this time and not Gemma. Despite it feeling a bit tense, he did appreciate being alone with PJ. 

There is a silence crossing over the room for the first hour of their shift as they each worked silently, but finally PJ spoke up and broke that. “I saw the Instastory.” 

“I guessed.” Phil said. “According to the article I found online last night, they were estimating millions of people had seen it.” 

“Did Dan realize what he was doing?” 

“I don’t know, Peej.” Phil said. “Dan was extremely upset when I brought it up to him but I really don’t think he realized what was going to happen.” 

“But why did he do it?” PJ questioned. 

Phil shrugged. 

“What are you two going to do?” 

“I don’t know.” Phil said. “I simply do not know what the fuck is going to happen and I don’t know what the future holds anymore.” 

PJ’s eyes widened as he turned in his chair and faced Phil. “You’re really going to be like that after everything you and Dan have gone through?” 

Phil leaned back in his chair and rubbed his eyes with the backs of his hands. “I don’t know, PJ. I just don’t know.” 

“I’ve never seen you like this before.” PJ began. “I’ve never seen you so ready to just throw your hands up and walk away from something. You were so sure about Dan but you’re actually saying you’re not sure about the future anymore.” 

“Because I really don’t know anymore, PJ.” Phil comments. “I don’t even know if I want to be here anymore.” 

“Here?” PJ questions. 

“The BBC.” 

“What?” PJ’s voice is suddenly higher pitched, definitely taken aback by Phil’s clarification of what he meant. 

“I might quit.” 

“And, I’m sorry, but do what?” PJ presses. 

“I want to work on YouTube more. I’ve been neglecting my fans because of the drama and because of The BBC and I kind of just want to start fresh and focus all of my time there.” 

“Are you doing this because of Dan?” 

Phil looks at him, furrowing his brows. “No!” 

“Are you sure that you’re not just wanting to give up working here so you have the ability to…galavant…with Dan wherever you want to?” 

“Don’t be ridiculous!” 

“I’m just asking, Phil.” PJ said. “Because you should listen to what you’re telling me right now. You’re considering giving up your entire career here for something like YouTube!” 

Phil rolled his eyes. “I don’t need this talk today, PJ.” He let out a sigh. “I know how it looks. I do. But I’m not happy here. I want to be able to go back and do what I always wanted to and that is YouTube.” 

PJ just nods at him and folds his arms over his chest. He doesn’t say anything right away and Phil swallows down the knot that had formed in his throat. “I just want you to be happy, Phil.” 

“I know.” 

“You’re my best friend.” 

“I know.” 

Pj rolled his chair over to Phil’s desk and rested his hands on the edge of it. “I just don’t want you to end up doing something you regret.” 

PJ’s words stuck with Phil the rest of the day. 

I don’t want you to end up doing something you regret. 

Phil hoped he didn’t either. 

He managed to get back to his flat with no paparazzi and no one calling for him. When he went to unlock the door, it suddenly opened and Dan nearly ran into him, in a rush to get wherever he needed to be. 

“Hey.” 

“Hey.” 

“I have to head out to meet up with Marianne. She took the first flight available to London and she just arrived and it going to her London based office right now.” 

“Oh okay.” 

“I’ll be back before it’s too late tonight, hopefully.” Dan says. “I took Spike out and cleaned your bedroom a bit since I cried all over your sheets last night.” 

Dan’s face flushed at that and Phil just shook his head. “You didn’t need to do that.” 

“I wanted to.” Dan said. He looked down at his phone and sighed. “I’m running late so I have to go now. My car is picking me up.” 

“Good luck.” 

Dan’s lips crack up in a smile and leans forward, pressing their lips together gently. 

Phil pecks his lips and then moves back and lets Dan rush past him as he throws up his hood and rushes to his black cab and gets inside. 

Phil walks into his flat and gives Spike his well deserved attention and then finds his feet carrying him to the bedroom. He laughs a bit at seeing how Dan really did redress the bed but he found it so endearing and nice that he just falls onto the comforter and is lulled into a nap not long after. 

***

Something was buzzing in Phil’s hip bone and it wasn’t pleasant. In fact, Phil kind of wants it to stop. He pushes his hand under his thigh and reaches around until he feels the buzzing object and picks it up, bringing it up to his eye-level. 

7 Missed Calls from: Dan 

6 Missed Calls from: Martyn 

10 Missed Calls from: Mum 

2 Texts from: PJ 

Phil was confused. What the fuck? 

His reaction was to call Dan so he immediately called Dan back. 

“OH MY GOD PHIL! WHY WEREN’T YOU ANSWERING?” 

Phil sits up in bed, his heart racing. “What is happening? Are you okay?” 

Dan sniffles on the other side and Phil feels his heart fall out of his body. Dan was crying? What was happening. 

“Phil, it’s over.” 

“What’s over?” 

“Phil…I…go on Twitter.” Dan sniffles a bit on the other end. 

Phil quickly takes his phone away from his ear and puts Dan on speaker phone as he shakily presses his thumb against the Twitter app. He goes under the headlines and moments and he audibly gasps. 

“Daniel Howell Spotted Sharing a Sweet Kiss with Boyfriend in London”. 

Underneath, there is a picture of him and Dan kissing on the doorstep of the building of his flat. 

[artificialqueens]

you have (5) new messages. (Branjie) - ohhthereuare

AN: Based on the night Miss Vanjie drunkenly posted some angsty and sad posts to her Instagram Story that she deleted seconds later. She also made some phone calls.

AO3

Brooke’s alarm rang precisely at 7 am and she groaned while reaching out to turn it off. All these years of discipline and waking up at unholy hours before rehearsals and performances did nothing to ease the pain of early mornings. She always kept her phone on silent with no vibrations because God knew she needed those hours of beauty rest to be able to give her all day after day, especially now since her Drag Race career has started and turned everything upside down.

She squinted at her phone in the dark, the curtains blocking some of the rising sun. She was still getting used to the tons of mentions and notifications across all social media that swarmed her every morning but something was off today. There was more than usual. Like, much more. She scrolled down the Instagram and Twitter alerts to the bottom and saw a couple of missed calls from a name that immediately made her heart beat faster and body wake up despite the previous drowsiness.

You have five new messages.

“Hiiiiiii! We out and about todaaaay and having so much fun! Silk’s here and them girls keep buying me shots. There’s some eye-candy as well but none as cute as your ass. Y’know, you could be here tonight, though I know you can’t, not really. So I thought—Bitch, you try that one more time and Imma–”

There was some rustling, someone who sounded suspiciously like Silky yelling in the background and the phone call ended abruptly. Brooke sat up in her bed, leaning against the headboard and running her hand through her curly mess of morning hair. It wasn’t uncommon for Vanessa to go out and get hammered after the gigs with her fellow sisters. From the heavy bass playing, but not being able to overpower Vanjie’s loud voice, they must have been at a club and Brooke knew the routine so well she had no trouble picturing it now. Sweaty and tired bodies, feet hurting from wearing hooker heels, slumping over the bar to down shots and get back to the dancefloor. Lights catching the ever-present remaining glitter on her cheekbones, chest, and shoulders. All the eyes are on her but she doesn’t notice, doesn’t care and keeps dancing with her own eyes closed, yelling the lyrics so loud Brooke never knew how she’s never lost her voice so far.

You have four new messages.

“You must’ve seen it, yeah, I mean, everybody did. I guess the internet is forever, bitch. Just—don’t—I mean, uh, it’s the alcohol, y’know how it turns me into this emotional messy hoe and I’m too much in my head and fuck—Just—Ignore it, okay? That was—Yeah, shit, it’s gone now. It was nothing. Bye.”

Brooke guessed she must have been referring to the thousands of mentions and tagged pictures that she still hasn’t seen. She just hoped it was nothing too inappropriate although with Miss Vanjie you never knew.

You have three new messages.

“I bet you haven’t even listened—Yeah, it doesn’t matter, you don’t really have to. The thing is, it was, y’know, a part of the game. The game! Yeah! The one we keep playing and making everyone believe it’s for real and shit and it was just another thing. So I deleted that and they think it’s even more real because why would’ve I even do that, right? So it’s all good. We’re good.”

You have two new messages.

Brooke waited for a few seconds and the voice on the other end kept silent. Everything was weirdly silent compared to the music and yelling and stumbling words that filled the previous messages. Just some random rustling and murmurs. Brooke was about to move to the last message when someone spoke up.

“You gonna be fine?”

This time it was Silky. She sounded weirdly gentle and quiet. A long murmur came in response. Vanessa must have accidentally called her from what sounded like the inside of her pocket. Brooke kept listening.

“Okay, Imma leave you here, bitch. You sure you gonna be fine?”

“Yeah, yeah…”

There was a sound of someone turning a key and doors opening. Heavy steps thudding in the silence. Suddenly a loud yelp, a few curses muttered under breath and things cluttering against the floor. More rustling. A heavy sigh.

“Ah shit.”

You have one new message.

“Uhm, hi B.”

Brooke pressed the cellphone so hard against her ear she might as well try to put it directly into her brain. People were wrong when they said Vanessa Vanjie Mateo had only one volume. Sure, when everyone was watching, whether she was in or out of drag, her voice was so loud and obnoxious she could wake the dead to make them join her party. Brooke never minded. She loved hearing her like that. All that pure nonsense she was spitting on the daily that she made up as she went. But there was another side to her that the Canadian queen only discovered as she got to know her better, as they got closer. Only then, when it was just the two of them in their quiet corner during Untucked, limbs tangled in the backseat of the van or snuggled on the sofa after a long day of entertaining interviews and gigs, Vanessa was someone else entirely. She was soft and gentle, her voice low and raspy like a cat purring, reserved only for her closest’s one to hear.

“It’s been… A mess. Yeah. I’ve been a mess. Sorry about that. I don’t know why I did that. I mean, I do. I just forgot I guess. That’s it’s not just us now. It’s everybody watching. Like it’s their fucking business. Like they know what’s going on. But they don’t know shit.”

Brooke heard a soft rustling of sheets and she imagined Vanessa settling her small frame into a nest made of out blankets and comforters. She knew the telephone must have been placed at the other side of the bed, on the pillow, the way they would talk on FaceTime to indulge themselves in the illusion that the other person was lying beside them and not so far away. The other queen’s voice was barely above a raspy whisper, the words slurring together a little bit from the alcohol and exhaustion. She took a shaky breath and Brooke closed her eyes as her heart actually hurt in her chest.

“It’s hard, y’know? I mean, of course, you know, that’s why we agreed on this shit show but… I miss you. And watching all that every week, how we were, I mean fuckwe should’ve never given that up. And this thing between us, I can’t—I just miss you. Yeah. It’s hard. Being together is hard like that but being apart and knowing we’re not—It’s the worst. I wanna be with you, B. I don’t care if I’m stuck here and you’re in fucking Canada and shit. I—”

Her voice gradually started getting quieter and quieter and Brooke thought she had fallen asleep with the phone on. 

“Our song. I kept listening to our song. It’s what got me. Damn these fucking love songs. Ne-yo was right, bitch. Am sick of this shit. I just miss you so much, it’s all I can think ‘bout.”

Brooke could hear her breathing slowing down. She imagined those long eyelashes fluttering shut and lips parting before sleep took hold of her. She had often watched Vanessa in those moments as she laid on the Canadian queen’s chest, head tucked in the nook of Brooke’s neck, small limbs wrapped so tightly around her as if she had been scared otherwise Brooke would have gotten up and left. In a way that’s what happened.

“Love you, B.”

The words were breathed out, they almost got lost in the rustling of sheets, cars driving by outside and the deafening sound of Brooke’s heart hammering in her chest. And yet she heard them. And there was nothing she wanted more but to say them back. Right now. In person.

She had a show to do tonight, then a plane to catch later that, no matter what she desperately wanted, didn’t fly to LA. Vanessa would probably be nursing her hangover at home all day before putting on her wig, stunning makeup to cover the events from the night before and taking the stage like everything was fine. They were forced to get on with their separate lives.

Brooke grabbed her phone and jumped out of bed, already opening the cheapest airlines website and going through her schedule in her head. The words stayed engraved into her memory, burning her throat and filling her chest with how badly she wanted to say them back. Soon she would. There was only one thing she needed to do first. She clicked on the contact info and chose FaceTime. She didn’t have to wait long.

“Hi, Papi.”

[ohhthereuare]

you have (5) new messages. (branjie)

A/N. I'm a mess. I did not expect to love Vanessa Vanjie Mateo so much and I certainly did not expect to devote my life to yet another ship. And yet here we are. Let's pray for the happiness of these two together and individually, and our own sanity. Using she/her pronouns about both of the queens. Enjoy!

Based on the night Miss Vanjie drunkenly posted some angsty and sad posts to her Instagram Story that she deleted seconds later. She also made some phone calls.

You can read it on AO3

***

Brooke’s alarm rang precisely at 7 am and she groaned while reaching out to turn it off. All these years of discipline and waking up at unholy hours before rehearsals and performances did nothing to ease the pain of early mornings. She always kept her phone on silent with no vibrations because God knew she needed those hours of beauty rest to be able to give her all day after day, especially now since her Drag Race career has started and turned everything upside down.

She squinted at her phone in the dark, the curtains blocking some of the rising Sun. She was still getting used to the tons of mentions and notifications across all social media that swarmed her every morning but something was off today. There was more than usual. Like, much more. She scrolled down the Instagram and Twitter alerts to the bottom and saw a couple of missed calls from a name that immediately made her heart beat faster and body wake up despite the previous drowsiness.

You have five new messages.

“Hiiiiiii! We out and about todaaaay and having so much fun! Silk’s here and them girls keep buying me shots. There’s some eye-candy as well but none as cute as your ass. Y’know, you could be here tonight, though I know you can’t, not really. So I thought—Bitch, you try that one more time and Imma--”

There was some rustling, someone who sounded suspiciously like Silky yelling in the background and the phone call ended abruptly. Brooke sat up in her bed, leaning against the headboard and running her hand through her curly mess of morning hair. It wasn’t uncommon for Vanessa to go out and get hammered after the gigs with her fellow sisters. From the heavy bass playing, but not being able to overpower Vanjie’s loud voice, they must have been at a club and Brooke knew the routine so well she had no trouble picturing it now. Sweaty and tired bodies, feet hurting from wearing hooker heels, slumping over the bar to down shots and get back to the dancefloor. Lights catching the ever-present remaining glitter on her cheekbones, chest, and shoulders. All the eyes are on her but she doesn't notice, doesn't care and keeps dancing with her own eyes closed, yelling the lyrics so loud Brooke never knew how she's never lost her voice so far.

You have four new messages.

“You must’ve seen it, yeah, I mean, everybody did. I guess the internet is forever, bitch. Just—don’t—I mean, uh, it’s the alcohol, y’know how it turns me into this emotional messy hoe and I’m too much in my head and fuck—Just—Ignore it, okay? That was—Yeah, shit, it’s gone now. It was nothing. Bye.”

Brooke guessed she must have been referring to the thousands of mentions and tagged pictures that she still hasn’t seen. She just hoped it was nothing too inappropriate although with Miss Vanjie you never knew.

You have three new messages.

“I bet you haven’t even listened—Yeah, it doesn’t matter, you don’t really have to. The thing is, it was, y’know, a part of the game. The game! Yeah! The one we keep playing and making everyone believe it’s for real and shit and it was just another thing. So I deleted that and they think it’s even more real because why would’ve I even do that, right? So it’s all good. We’re good.”

You have two new messages.

Brooke waited for a few seconds and the voice on the other end kept silent. Everything was weirdly silent compared to the music and yelling and stumbling words that filled the previous messages. Just some random rustling and murmurs. Brooke was about to move to the last message when someone spoke up.

“You gonna be fine?”

This time it was Silky. She sounded weirdly gentle and quiet. A long murmur came in response. Vanessa must have accidentally called her from what sounded like the inside of her pocket. Brooke kept listening.

“Okay, Imma leave you here, bitch. You sure you gonna be fine?”

“Yeah, yeah…”

There was a sound of someone turning a key and doors opening. Heavy steps thudding in the silence. Suddenly a loud yelp, a few curses muttered under breath and things cluttering against the floor. More rustling. A heavy sigh.

“Ah shit.”

You have one new message.

“Uhm, hi B.”

Brooke pressed the cellphone so hard against her ear she might as well try to put it directly into her brain. People were wrong when they said Vanessa Vanjie Mateo had only one volume. Sure, when everyone was watching, whether she was in or out of drag, her voice was so loud and obnoxious she could wake the dead to make them join her party. Brooke never minded. She loved hearing her like that. All that pure nonsense she was spitting on the daily that she made up as she went. But there was another side to her that the Canadian queen only discovered as she got to know her better, as they got closer. Only then, when it was just the two of them in their quiet corner during Untucked, limbs tangled in the backseat of the van or snuggled on the sofa after a long day of entertaining interviews and gigs, Vanessa was someone else entirely. She was soft and gentle, her voice low and raspy like a cat purring, reserved only for her closest’s one to hear.

“It’s been… A mess. Yeah. I’ve been a mess. Sorry about that. I don’t know why I did that. I mean, I do. I just forgot I guess. That’s it’s not just us now. It’s everybody watching. Like it’s their fucking business. Like they know what’s going on. But they don’t know shit.”

Brooke heard a soft rustling of sheets and she imagined Vanessa settling her small frame into a nest made of out blankets and comforters. She knew the telephone must have been placed at the other side of the bed, on the pillow, the way they would talk on FaceTime to indulge themselves in the illusion that the other person was lying beside them and not so far away. The other queen’s voice was barely above a raspy whisper, the words slurring together a little bit from the alcohol and exhaustion. She took a shaky breath and Brooke closed her eyes as her heart actually hurt in her chest.

“It’s hard, y’know? I mean, of course, you know, that's why we agreed on this shit show but… I miss you. And watching all that every week, how we were, I mean fuckwe should’ve never given that up. And this thing between us, I can’t—I just miss you. Yeah. It’s hard. Being together is hard like that but being apart and knowing we’re not—It’s the worst. I wanna be with you, B. I don’t care if I’m stuck here and you’re in fucking Canada and shit. I—”

Her voice gradually started getting quieter and quieter and Brooke thought she had fallen asleep with the phone on.

“Our song. I kept listening to our song. It’s what got me. Damn these fucking love songs. Ne-yo was right, bitch. Am sick of this shit. I just miss you so much, it’s all I can think ‘bout.”

Brooke could hear her breathing slowing down. She imagined those long eyelashes fluttering shut and lips parting before sleep took hold of her. She had often watched Vanessa in those moments as she laid on the Canadian queen’s chest, head tucked in the nook of Brooke’s neck, small limbs wrapped so tightly around her as if she had been scared otherwise Brooke would have gotten up and left. In a way that’s what happened.

“Love you, B.”

The words were breathed out, they almost got lost in the rustling of sheets, cars driving by outside and the deafening sound of Brooke’s heart hammering in her chest. And yet she heard them. And there was nothing she wanted more but to say them back. Right now. In person.

She had a show to do tonight, then a plane to catch later that, no matter what she desperately wanted, didn’t fly to LA. Vanessa would probably be nursing her hangover at home all day before putting on her wig, stunning makeup to cover the events from the night before and taking the stage like everything was fine. They were forced to get on with their separate lives.

Brooke grabbed her phone and jumped out of bed, already opening the cheapest airlines website and going through her schedule in her head. The words stayed engraved into her memory, burning her throat and filling her chest with how badly she wanted to say them back. Soon she would. There was only one thing she needed to do first. She clicked on the contact info and chose FaceTime. She didn’t have to wait long.

“Hi, Papi.”

[gold-from-straw]

Nightmares - DGHDA SpookFest

For prompt 33, nightmares. Dirk Gently/Todd Brotzman. T rating

Some graphic depictions of violence, canon typical gore (including pararibulitis attacks), Priest being an utter arsehole as usual, and insulting someone’s gender orientation... so warnings for Transphobia. Also swearing, I mean, my entire existence should come with a swear rating, my bad...

Quinn ran, their heart pounding in their chest, lungs burning and mind almost overloading with terror. They stumbled around another corner, bumped into someone who fell to the ground instantly, the ground around them writhing with snakes. Quinn whimpered and ran some more. Their own worst nightmare was coming for them, his gun at the ready and a smile on his face.

***

“…and then this person said they were attacked by rubber chickens in the grocery store—“

“Rubber chickens?”

“Yes, they—“

“In the grocery store?”

“Yes, Todd, do keep up. They said, and I quote, that they squawked threateningly and their dead rubber eyes stared deep into their soul.”

Todd gave up and doubled up laughing. “What are these guys on?”

Dirk tried to look prim and aloof but he could see the bastard’s lips twitching. “As far as we know they aren’t on anything. This spate of weird hallucinations is spreading across the city and it’s brilliant, Todd, we needed a new case, I’ve been so bored.”

“So the universe is giving you rubber chickens?”

“Not just rubber chickens. Dinosaurs and quicksand and jack’o’lanterns and—“

“Lions and tigers and bears, oh my?”

He stopped, his eyes going wide. Todd bit his lip to resist the pull of those eyes, before sucked him in to their orbit. “How did you know? Have you been getting visions like Amanda?”

“No, it’s… a movie reference, never mind. So what do we do?”

“I have absolutely no idea,” he said, and nobody should be that happy about their own ignorance, it was obscene. “I think we should walk around Seattle and see where the universe takes us.”

The universe, as it happened, took them to the park, along the avenue of trees scattering damp autumn leaves, and to a little coffee shop where Dirk ordered something utterly disgusting with at least three different syrups. Todd watched him stroll along with his happy smile and stomped on the little voice whispering ‘this is just like a date’.

It was not a date. As they turned a corner, Dirk suddenly gasped and raced off down an alleyway without warning. Todd was not impressed about running on a full stomach. He could feel that coffee sloshing around as he tried to catch up with Dirk’s ridiculously long legs, honestly, someone who fell over his own feet so often should not be able to run that fast.

He was breathing hard before he found him again, shoving his way through a small crowd of skaters.

“Push it with your board, man, don’t touch it.”

“Woah, did you see that? Are you fucking getting this, man? The board went right through it!”

“What the hell?”

“Rezza, don’t touch it, Jesus!”

“Chill, it’s like a hologram or something, look!”

Todd elbowed forwards, ducking his head low and grimly thinking there were at least some advantages to being chest height to everyone else. “Holy shit,” he muttered, as he got to the centre.

There was a young man lying on the road, writhing and crying out, his head twitching from side to side like he was having a bad dream. And all around him, crawling over his chest and legs, were hundreds of snakes.

Dirk bent down right next to the man. The skaters were torn between cheering him on and warning him to be careful. At least three of them were filming. Dirk reached forward to shake the man’s shoulder, and put his hand right through a huge hooded cobra. “Excuse me,” he said, tapping him on the chest. “Hello, will you wake up?” He poked him gingerly. “Hey!” he yelled, and the poor man sat bolt upright, breathing hard and sweating.

“What the hell? What the… the snakes? Where are they, there were… they were everywhere, oh God.” He shuddered and stared at his hands, but the snakes really were gone, vanished like mist the moment he’d woken up.

Dirk patted him with the very tips of his fingers. “There, there. You seem to have been manifesting your dreams. Does this happen often?”

“Man, it was sick! You have to see this,” one of the skaters laughed, and held out his phone.

The dreamer looked at the video and screamed, skittering backwards onto someone’s feet. “What the fuck? That was… there were snakes all… oh my God oh my God, I’m gonna be sick, I’m gonna… the fuck is going on, I just…”

“Hey,” snapped Todd, forcing his way forward and grabbing the guy’s shoulders. “Stop that now, you’re here. You’re awake, the snakes are gone. They weren’t solid, they were… I don’t know, like some…”

“Manifestation of an unintentional astral projection,” Dirk added helpfully.

“—yeah maybe. Whatever. But you’re safe, you hear?”

The man nodded, still trembling. “What’s your name?” Todd asked.

“Wikus.”

Todd nodded firmly and held out his hand to help the guy up. “I’m Todd Brotzman, this is my par… uh, this is Dirk Gently. He does… weird shit.”

“I’m a holistic detective, as my so-called assistant is failing to tell you. Hi.” Dirk held out his hand to shake and started interrogating Wikus, or telling him his life story, or something. Either way, nobody noticed that Todd had very nearly called him his partner which was just… something to be shoved down into a corner of his imagination where it meant something very different and never see the light of day again.

“—and Farah will take your details. Come on, Todd, you’ll be left behind one of these days!”

He snorted. “As if you’d remember your way back to the office without me.”

“The universe would take me there,” he sniffed. Todd just smirked and shook his head, and led the way.

***

Quinn collapsed in a doorway and tried to sit upright, but their body was shaking too much. They slumped against the frame and curled up tight. A wave of despair swept over them. They were never going to be free. He was going to chase them forever, no matter how hard they ran he’d be around the next corner with a gleeful laugh and an army on his side. Quinn was just so tired, but going back there was a fate worse than death.

***

“So, nightmares, huh?” Amanda said, swinging her feet where she sat on Farah’s desk. Todd figured she was the only person in the world Farah would allow to sit on her perfectly ordered desk.

Dirk nodded. “Yes, this is the seventh manifested nightmare we’ve found in the last three days, isn’t it brilliant?”

“Yeah, when he says found, what he means is I found references to six of them on youtube and twitter,” Farah pointed out, waving her pen in his direction.

“Exactly, you found six and Todd and I found one, therefore we found seven. See? I can do maths, Farah, and you said it was atrocious.”

Farah rolled her eyes and turned back to the computer. Amanda grinned and offered her a cookie which she’d stolen from the cupboard anyway, so it was probably Farah’s cookie. “What’s causing it? Any ideas?”

“Aliens.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Todd, it’s never aliens.”

“It’s only a matter of time, I mean, we’ve had alternate dimensions, shapeshifters, actual wizards, at least three cults and one surprisingly boring series of robberies.”

“Really? How did you end up with that case?”

“They only stole worthless trinkets. Dirk thought it might have been a creature that fed off nostalgia or something, but it was a young guy with a form of kleptomania. Kinda sad, really.”

“I thought he was an empath, not a nostalgia-eater” Dirk protested.

“You said, and I quote, ‘he’s some sort of sentiment vampire, I’ll bet you anything, Todd.’ Speaking of which, you still owe me dinner.”

“Do not let him cook,” said Farah without looking up from the computer.

“Did you just do the British accent again?” Dirk said in delight.

“No…”

“You did. Oh, do it again, please.”

“Shut up!” he covered his red face, furious with himself.

“Guys, come look at this,” Farah called, and Todd grabbed at the opportunity with both hands. He scrambled round to stand behind her chair, joined by Dirk and Amanda.

It was a YouTube video. Todd recognised the area they’d been that day, the skaters taking shaky footage of each other trying out a new trick. He immediately tried to see if he could spot Wikus in the background, but they spotted the person running first.

It was over in seconds. There was a figure racing down the street, turning to look the way they’d come, and then stumbling and running on again. They were almost out of shot when they crashed into Wikus. It was barely even a brush of shoulders, but Wikus dropped like a stone. The skater taking the video was too busy focusing on the snakes that were forming out of thin air around the sleeping man to turn the video back on the runner, or on whatever they were running from.

“Can you pause it and try and get a look at the runner?” Todd said, squinting at the screen.

Farah rolled her eyes. “No, Captain Obvious, because I’ve already downloaded it. We can look at a frame by frame here.” She opened another app and the video appeared as a series of ten second clips.

“Do you ever wonder what your role is in this business?” Amanda asked him sweetly. He glared at her.

“Todd’s my assistant,” said Dirk, and his horrified expression was deeply gratifying. “He’s irreplaceable.”

“If you say so,” Amanda grinned.

Todd tried not to gaze at Dirk like a lovestruck puppy but, damn, it was hard. Now if only he could get up the nerve to tell Dirk he was equally irreplaceable to Todd, just… for a really different reason.

“I can’t get a better view of this guy,” said Farah, squinting at the screen. The person ran, frame by frame, speed blurring all his features. They turned to look behind them, and Dirk gasped and stepped back.

“What, what is it? You recognise this guy?”

“Morpheus,” he whispered.

“Who’s Morpheus?” Farah said. “The… the Greek god of dreams, but… oh… Greek mythology.” She looked from Dirk to the screen and back. “Shit.”

Dirk was backed right up against the wall, his face pale and his eyes that horrible blank mask. Todd had seen that too much back in Bergsberg. He reached out to squeeze his arm. “Blackwing?”

Dirk nodded, a tiny, jerky movement. His big eyes were looking suspiciously wet, and Todd grabbed his other hand, pulling him around to face him. “Hey, you’re OK. You’re safe. We’re here, and we’re never letting you go again, you hear?”

He nodded, and Todd wasn’t sure if his lower lip really trembled like that or if it was just the movement of his whole head, but he wanted to wrap him up tight in his arms and never let him feel this fear again.

Dirk took a deep breath and stepped back towards the screen. “M-Morpheus arrived a few years after I did… around the same time as the Rowdies and… and they used to make them feed on either them or me, or… or—“

“Them?” interjected Farah. “How many were in Project Morpheus?”

“Hmm? Oh, no, singular them. Morpheus is non-binary.”

“And their power was, what, making people hallucinate?”

“Not exactly… they could pull your worst nightmares forwards. I used to… they had to do it to me,” he said, his eyes falling shut and shuddering. “I didn’t recognise it today because… because the nightmares never used to appear to anyone else, like those snakes did. They just touched you, and you fell asleep, into the worst… the worst dreams you’d ever had.”

Todd’s hands itched with the need to touch him, comfort him. When Amanda slipped off the desk and wrapped her arms around his waist, he was torn between grateful that she was giving him the comfort that Todd was too cowardly to provide, and angry with himself that he couldn’t put this stupid crush aside and just give Dirk what he needed. He turned back to the screen, clenching his fist and looking at the picture, memorising the face of yet another person who’d hurt Dirk, another person Todd would hate forever.

But as he looked at the young person on the screen, he found it difficult to keep the same level of anger. They were frozen mid-step, their head twisted to stare behind them, a look of utter panic and despair on their face. It was hard to hate someone who looked so much like Dirk had back in Bergsberg.

“They look like they’re being chased,” said Farah softly.

Dirk nodded. “The fear always made their powers worse.”

“So you’re saying they’ve got stronger since you knew them?” Amanda said.

He sighed. “I don’t know. I don’t even know if they got out of Blackwing back when I escaped, I know not all of us did. If they’d been stuck there, if Riggins…” He swallowed. “If they found something that worked…”

“You think they’ve found some way to increase their powers?”

“To weaponise them,” Farah murmured. “Shit.”

“Look, maybe not,” Amanda said, rubbing Dirk’s back. Todd could see his muscles trembling, just ever so slightly. “Maybe Morpheus figured it out themselves.”

Dirk took a deep breath and pursed his lips. “We’ve got to help them.”

***

Amanda walked back with Todd and Dirk, claiming it was Todd’s turn to let her use his shower. Todd grumbled and pretended that having her back in his life wasn’t the best thing that had ever happened to him. She also made Dirk smile, just another reason he wanted to fall on his knees in gratitude to his little sister.

“Don’t let Morpheus get close to you, Todd,” she said, with a wicked grin.

“Amanda,” he growled, narrowing his eyes at her.

She laughed and tucked her arm into Dirk’s. “Do you wanna guess what Todd’s worst nightmare was? When we were kids?”

Dirk turned great pools of sorrow onto Todd. “Oh no! Was it terrible, Todd?”

Todd blushed and turned away, unable to bear the siren call of that sweet, kind face. “Don’t listen to her, she’s an idiot.”

Amanda snorted. “I’m not the one who was terrified of little white ponies.”

Dirk’s forehead crinkled as he stared down at her, and even under his mortification Todd thought it was adorable. “White ponies?”

“Amanda, oh my god!”

“How many times did you have that dream?” She asked, her voice rich with delight at his humiliation. She looked up at Dirk in glee. “It was about the same time I was playing with My Little Ponies, he must have been at least fourteen. He woke up screaming one night because - and I quote - ‘the ponies are trying to eat me!’” She threw her head back and laughed. “He had that dream night after night, I had to put my ponies in the wardrobe any time I wasn’t playing with them or he’d shudder when he saw them!”

“They had teeth!” he yelled, his face burning. “They were vicious little… dog sized creatures with sharp freaking teeth - and horses do actually eat meat, by the way. They… they chased me up a tree every damn night and circled me and - oh shut up!”

Amanda was nearly doubled over laughing. “Promise me you’ll take a video if Todd gets knocked over by Morpheus, I need blackmail material.”

Todd groaned and rolled his eyes.

“I’m afraid I’ll probably have other things on my mind, but I appreciate the warning about the white ponies,” Dirk said, humour colouring his voice.

Todd shook his head, but it occurred to him that his stupid pony nightmare would be preferable to anything that would manifest if Morpheus got to Dirk.

***

Quinn took a long, shuddering breath and wrapped their hands around a warm styrofoam cup. They were safe, just for now. They’d sent him down a false trail, and if they were lucky it would be hours before he realised… maybe even a day or two. And Quinn had a plan. It meant… it meant doing to themself what they did but… the end justified the means. They needed to get stronger. They needed to stop relying on touch because Priest would never let Quinn get close enough… they needed to stretch the powers. Quinn’s stomach roiled, rebelling against the fear and phantom pains, but this was the only way. They had to save themself, because nobody else was going to.

***

It was midnight. Amanda had stumbled out the front door, yawning, at least an hour earlier, but Dirk was still on Todd’s sofa, chattering, waving his hands, and as bright eyed as he had been at 8 o’clock that morning.

Todd rubbed his gritty eyes and stifled a yawn, blinking at Dirk’s flushed face. “...and there was this absolutely brilliant double rainbow, stretching right over the Atlantic, and did you know, Todd, I could see both ends of it in the sea - do you think if I took a plane over the top of it I’d be able to see a whole circle? Wouldn’t that be amazing, a rainbow ring? A double ring because it was a double rainbow, ooh, that would be the best thing—“

“Dirk,” he huffed. “Aren’t you… I don’t know, aren’t you tired?”

He stopped, his mouth open and half way through a word. “I’m… no. No, I’m perfectly awake, Todd, I really don’t know how you can sleep at a time like this, honestly, it’s all so exciting! Did I tell you about-“

Todd groaned and slumped lower onto the sofa. “Dirk, I’m tired! I want to go to sleep, look… do you want to just watch TV? I’m gonna fall asleep right here if I don’t go to bed!”

“Oh. Oh, I’m sorry.”

He sounded small. He sounded like he’d been shut down, like all that brightness and enthusiasm had been wiped away like condensation on a mirror, and all that was left was a sharp, stark… exhaustion.

Todd opened his eyes properly and sat up.

“I’ll head back to my own flat, thank you for dinner, Todd, it was lovely.”

Todd frowned as Dirk stood up, smiling brightly and fussing with his jacket. He focused properly on the curve of his shoulders, the tension in the lines of his face, the shadows under his eyes, and he grabbed the sleeve of his jacket as he slipped his arms in. “Do you… you can stay here, if you like,” he said softly. “If you don’t want to be alone.”

Dirk exhaled shakily, his eyes going distant and staring through the carpet into the past. “I’ll be fine.”

“That’s not good enough,” he said. “Come here.” He pulled him around to the sofa, shoved him down again and twitched a fleecy blanket off the back of the armchair. “Lie down, Dirk, c’mon.”

“You really don’t have to, Todd, you’re absolutely right, it’s time for bed and—“

“Dirk, shut up and lie down. And next time you don’t want to be alone, just tell me, OK?”

Dirk curled up on his side, stiff and wide eyed. Todd nodded firmly, draping the blanket over him. “‘Night. Sleep well.”

“Thank you,” he said, very quietly.

***

They found somewhere to sleep, an old warehouse, red brick crumbling and weeds growing up through the cracks in the tarmac. It was almost painfully cold out in the autumn wind, Halloween just around the corner, but Quinn had a thick sleeping bag and a pack of marshmallows, stolen from a camping store. It was almost pleasant, almost like an adventure. That’s what they told themself, a distraction from what they’d have to do to peel their powers out, stretch them like elastic. Make themself into the weapon they’d been resisting for so long. Make themself into the monster they’d sworn never to become.

They had no choice.

***

He wasn’t sure what woke him. It wasn’t a cry, it wasn’t a dream of his own, but he woke, eyes wide and clear, fixed on the red 3:58 of his digital clock. He lay still for a moment, trying to work out what had pulled him from sleep so perfectly.

For a while there was nothing. He closed his eyes again and tried to settle back to sleep, and there it was. The slightest, shuddering breath, the slightest shifting of tense muscles.

Before he could rationalise it to himself, before he could shake his head and brush it off, he was standing, bare feet cold against the floorboards, and pushing his door open to the sitting room.

Dirk lay still under the covers, a beam of moonlight casting silver accents over his red hair. He wasn’t moving at all, and in the end, that’s what was suspicious. Because he was so still he might not even be breathing, so curled up tight when he’d seen him loose and slack in sleep the last time he’d passed out on the couch after a long case.

He shuffled forward, his body not quite responding right, but his mind sharp and present as he crouched down. Dirk’s forehead was lined, his brows crunched into a deep frown, his plush lips in a worried pout, his fingers clenching and unclenching. As Todd watched he whimpered, just slightly, and pressed himself backwards, curling up into a terrified, solid little ball.

“Dirk,” he said softly, his heart aching. Dirk should never be so small and afraid, hiding behind silence and stillness.

“Please,” Dirk whispered, just a breath barely even a sound. “No, please, I’m trying, I’ll be… I’ll be good.”

“Dirk, wake up!” Todd said, a little louder. He didn’t know what to do, he didn’t want to scare him, but how could he leave him so scared? This wasn’t right, how dare anyone scare Dirk like this? How could they?

“Please,” he whimpered, and Todd couldn’t bear it. He sank his fingers into Dirk’s hair, rubbing gently, whispering meaningless reassurances, trying to call him back.

“You’re OK, Dirk,” he said right into his ear, softly and firmly. “I’m here, OK, it’s nobody else, just me. I’m not gonna let them get you, I’m here. You’ll be OK, baby, you hear? I’ll keep you safe, just come back, OK? You’re not back there, you’re safe. He pressed his forehead to Dirk’s temple, wishing he could help, wishing he could protect him from everything in his past.

“Todd,” Dirk whispered, his fingers finding their way around Todd’s wrist. “My Todd.”

“Yeah, I’m yours, it’s OK, sweetheart.” He felt a rush of self-loathing. How dare he? Calling him stupid pet names, touching him like this while he was sleeping, when he couldn’t push him away. He told himself it was just to make Dirk feel better, just to help him through the nightmare, that Amanda and Farah would do exactly the same for him, but that was different, wasn’t it? Because they’d do the same for Dirk while he was awake. They didn’t hold him at arms’ length because all they felt for him was pure, uncomplicated affection, not this… this overblown worship! This complete obsession that if anyone knew about it they’d be horrified, push him away for being too much, too clingy.

But he brushed Dirk’s hair back, and stroked his cheek, and rubbed his hands where they held his wrist, because now he’d started, he couldn’t bear to stop.

“Todd,” he sighed. “Feels nice.” He nuzzled into Todd’s hands as he rubbed the back of his neck, his thumb brushing over his cheekbones. Todd squeezed his eyes shut, guilty and as always, not guilty enough to pull away.

But he’d learned, hadn’t he? He was better than this - he was trying, for Amanda’s sake, for Farah and mostly for Dirk, he was trying to be a better person. Dirk was breathing evenly, he’d come out of the nightmare, and Todd couldn’t justify touching him any more, he was just being creepy and an asshole. He stood up, his hands sliding gently out of Dirk’s hair.

“Don’t go,” Dirk whined, and to Todd’s horror one eye opened, looking right up at him.

“I’m… shit, I’m sorry, Dirk, I didn’t… I just… you were having a bad dream and I…”

“I know,” he said with a sleepy smile. “Thank you.”

Todd felt his face flush. “Well… if you’re… I’m glad. I’ll just be going—“

“Please stay,” he whispered, and Todd felt his heart ache.

“Sure,” he said with a crooked smile. He could handle the dull ache, he could handle being too close if Dirk wanted him there, he could… shit, that really did hurt.

“Pills,” he croaked, as the muscles between his ribs clenched in threat. “I need--”

“Oh, shit,” Dirk said, tumbling off the sofa and grabbing for the yellow jacket discarded on the floor. He was muttering platitudes, reassurances, but Todd didn’t hear, because he pulled up his shirt and saw the flesh tearing away from his bones, blood soaking his pyjamas, something fluttering beneath and someone was screaming, it hurt, it hurt so much and there was a bitter taste, a swallow…

He slumped sideways onto Dirk’s shoulder. “Thanks.”

“I’m so sorry,” Dirk whispered, and Todd realised he had his arms wrapped around him, hands shaking. “I’m so sorry, if I hadn’t woken you up and shocked you and--”

“Hey, no, that’s not how it works, man,” he said. “Or… well, we’re not sure… but anyway, it just is what it is, it’s not your fault.”

“I’m so sorry,” Dirk said anyway.

Todd rolled his eyes. “Come on, you idiot,” he grumbled. It was the safest way for his heart, being grumpy when he wanted to be safe. Some kinds of hurt were worse than others. He wriggled back and lay on his side on the couch, jerking his head at Dirk. “Lie down and go to sleep, otherwise we’ll never wake up tomorrow.”

Dirk hesitated, his mouth opening and closing, his eyes big and sad, and Todd wished he could be a better person, comfort him instead of pushing him around. But he never had been a nice person, not really, and he wasn’t going to pretend again. He grabbed Dirk’s collar and yanked him down, shoving him in place and draping the blanket over both of them.

For just a moment he indulged a wish, a silly fantasy. It was harmless. He imagined that this was their everyday. That he didn’t have to drag Dirk down to lie next to him, that Dirk snuggled into bed with him rather than this spur of the moment thing on the sofa. That Dirk wanted to lie next to him for more than just comfort from nightmares.

He pushed it away, and lay on his hands, keeping them to himself.

***

They weren’t ready. It wasn’t quite THERE yet, they needed more time but he wouldn’t wait. It was like he knew what Quinn was doing, how close they were and they couldn’t… they just couldn’t bear it, they’d die, they’d do anything to be free of that hell. Quinn stood, every muscle shaking, exhausted and terrified and so, so angry, and they ran.

***

Todd closed his eyes and hunched over his black coffee in bliss. Coffee was his one true love. Coffee didn’t judge him, didn’t mind what a grumpy shit he was - in fact, coffee probably appreciated his moods because it made him want coffee more.

“Yes, Todd, we know you love coffee,” Amanda snorted, kicking him in the ankle. “But we don’t need to see you make love to it in the diner.”

Todd held up his middle finger and drank, his eyes still shut. Beside him, just a little too close for Todd’s sanity, Dirk was eating waffles, swimming in disgusting quantities of maple syrup. He was squirming as he talked, and Todd wasn’t sure if it was a sugar high or just Dirk’s natural twitchy self.

He wiped the smile off his face. He was not adorable. Wriggly people were annoying, all of them, they definitely had always annoyed Todd, and Dirk was no exception. Even if he was also unbearably cute - no. Nope. Not the time.

“Come on,” Farah said, nudging Amanda. “We’ve got a lead on the nightmares up near Queen Anne. You said the Rowdies might be able to catch Morpheus’ scent?”

“Yep, let’s do it. You in?” She asked Todd and Dirk, pushing herself to her feet and sliding out of the booth.

“Uh…” said Dirk.

“We’ll pass,” Todd said wryly. Dirk smiled at him gratefully.

“You know the boys won’t feed off you, right?” Amanda said gently.

“I… yes… but…”

“It’s alright,” she said, patting his shoulder. “Later asshole,” she added, middle finger up again. Todd returned it.

“Ready to go feel the pull of the universe, or whatever?” He asked.

He nodded, his cheeks dimpling, and licked the last of the maple syrup off his fork. Todd looked away quickly.

***

He was close. Quinn’s lungs burned, their muscles ached, and if they hadn’t been so exhausted and dehydrated they’d have wept.

Their legs just barely carried them around the corner, into his industrial unit, budleia and willowherb creeping through the tarmac and beckoning him home, broken glass lying outside like it could protect him, like it was on his side.

Perfect for a final stand.

***

Dirk and Todd were meandering in the usual way when it happened. Dirk had been looking at Todd, earnestly explaining why cows were absolutely, definitely from another dimension (“Oh, and platypuses are totally normal?” “Don’t be ridiculous, Todd, they’ve very clearly primordial and have just missed the memo when it comes to evolution”) when he stopped.

“Dirk?” Said Todd, his mouth still stretched into a smile from the ridiculous conversation. “Everything ok?”

He didn’t answer, just turned on his heel and walked in the opposite direction, his face slack and horrified and like he’d rather do anything else. Todd jogged to catch up, panic and adrenaline seeping into his blood.

***

He was here. He was close, and Quinn had one chance, just one chance.

“Here, kitty kitty kitty! Oh, Mo-o-o-rpheus!”

They swallowed hard and fought back the bile and the memories. Focus!

“Here boy! Where are you?” Priest’s high giggle cut the air and made Quinn flinch violently. “Or are you a girl? You sure cry like a little girl. I think we should find out for sure what you are when we get you home.”

Quinn bit back a whimper violently, squeezing their eyes shut and demanding control, forcing their body to stop trembling. This was the only chance.

“But you’re just a freak, ain’t you boy? Just a freak like all the others, not fit for polite company. You’ve been out here too long, haven’t you?”

Quinn clenched their fists and gathered up all their hate, all their desperation, clenching it into a ball in their chest, and stepped out of the shadows.

“Oh, well, look at you,” Priest said, and chuckled. “What do you look like? Time to go home, isn’t it, boy? Hmm?”

He raised his dart gun. Quinn dug deep. “Fuck you, Mr Priest,” they said, and hurled their power through the palm of their hand and OUT, out into the air and it HURT, it burned every cell, but they’d rather die than go back to Blackwing.

***

Dirk was running now, long legs taking him further away from Todd, and that was absolutely not acceptable. He raced after him, brass knuckles already in place. Bloody idiot was always getting hurt! Didn’t he know Todd was meant to go first to keep him safe?

They heard the screaming before they even got into the warehouse, awful, gurgling noises that made Todd’s hair stand on end.

And then they saw who it was, and Dirk crumpled, falling to his ass and scrambling backwards, hands over his mouth in soundless terror at the black clad man with his back to them. Todd threw himself in front of him, but stopped, open mouthed. There was another figure walking towards Priest. She cocked her head and threw a shard of glass at him, her eyes blank and bored as he screamed again.

“Bart? Holy shit, I thought she was still back in Wendimoor.” He winced as she raised a knife and slashed, an arc of blood spraying across the room like a Vegas fountain. “Jesus Christ, is that… has she just killed Priest?”

He took a step forward in his shock, and, too late, saw the other person in the room.

His eyes rolled back and he felt his knees buckle, but he didn’t feel himself hit the floor. He blinked. There was green grass, a park as far as he could see, with warm sunlight and the sound of spring birds in the distance.

“Todd?” said Dirk, and he looked up. He was standing over him with his hand out, smiling sweetly at him. “Up you get,” he said, and pulled him to his feet. He put his other arm around him as he stood, and Todd felt a jolt of light flood through his body at the contact, at the feeling of being held against Dirk.

“What--”

“Ready for your birthday present?” Dirk asked sweetly. He still hadn’t moved his hands from off Todd’s hips and it was desperately distracting.

“My present? But it’s not…”

“I know it’s early,” he said, his plush lips curling into a wide smile. “But it was such a lovely day, perfect for a picnic, and you know what the weather’s like here.”

“Dirk, wait--” He grabbed Dirk’s sleeve as he turned to lead Todd down the grassy slope. Todd frowned around him. He didn’t recognise the park at all.

“Are you OK?” Dirk asked, his forehead furrowed in concern. “Did you hit your head when you fell?”

“I don’t…” He frowned. “Don’t think so.”

Dirk smiled softly, and it took Todd’s breath away. He’d never smiled at him like that, there’d always been something hidden that he’d never noticed until now. Compared to this smile, all the other smiles he’d ever received were veiled, cautious, half smiles.

He slipped his arms around Todd’s waist, cradling him like he was something delicate and infinitely precious, the way Todd dreamed of holding Dirk, and he couldn’t breathe, because Dirk was dipping his head, his eyes fluttering shut, and he was kissing Todd, sweet and everything and there were nuclear blasts going off behind his vision because it was the most perfect, softest, gentlest kiss and he’d never been kissed like this, never been loved before, not like this, and--

Dirk shuddered in his arms, and he was suddenly heavy, his knees collapsing. Todd grabbed him, horrified, because there was blood, so much blood. Dirk clutched at his chest, riddled with bullet holes, from so many shots he hadn’t even heard, oh god, there was… there was a rattling noise from Dirk’s throat. “Jesus, fuck, Dirk, what… what can I do? Oh my god, oh my god!” he pressed his hands against one wound, then another, his fingers slick with the gore, and Dirk was dying, he couldn’t survive this, and then Todd wouldn’t survive it, and… and Dirk was struggling with pills, cramming two into his mouth, his face crumpled with the effort of swallowing.

Todd felt sick. If he had to move he’d crumble, if he had to speak he’d fall to pieces, because the pills worked fast, he’d been there from the inside, feeling them hit his stomach, dissolve, the drugs absorbed directly through carriers in his stomach lining. He knew how the pain disappeared embarrassingly quickly, like it had all been a nightmare, all in his head, all that pain and despair and…

Dirk slumped back, breathing heavily, still twitching from the aftershocks. The blood was gone, the bullet holes were gone, and yet Todd felt like he was grieving because this… this was wrong. This was his thing to bear, and he’d never thought of it like this but he’d have taken it any day over seeing Dirk in that kind of pain.

“Dirk,” he croaked, his voice trembling, raw, no, no!

“It’s OK,” Dirk said, exhausted, breathing hard like he’d run a marathon, and Todd had been there, and never wanted to be there more than he did now, because Dirk should never have to--

“Hey,” he said, sitting up with an obvious effort and cupping Todd’s cheek. “I’m OK, it’s over.” He leaned forwards and kissed Todd’s cheek, the corner of his mouth. “It was a little better today,” he smiled, exhausted. “Maybe it’ll keep getting better; didn’t you say it started out feeling better a little bit at a time when it happened to you?”

Todd’s blood froze, his entire body stilling as he heard those words in two voices, and this couldn’t… he wouldn’t have, he wouldn’t, he’d learned, he wasn’t… he wasn’t that person, he’d changed, no, please.

“Todd? It’s OK, I have faith,” Dirk said, nudging their noses together. “I’ll get better just like you did. You give me hope.”

Todd staggered back, his ears ringing, the horror flooding over him like ice, like despair, like no please, I’m sorry, I’m sorry and he couldn’t focus, could only hear his name, screamed over and over from a great distance and

***

“Please let me go to him,” Icarus sobbed, his face soaked with tears. The small guy was screaming, his back arching on the floor like he was in terrible pain, but Quinn didn’t understand, there was nothing… what was that nightmare about? What was he afraid of?

They could see the nightmare projected over him, the other Icarus, the other small guy, they’d seen him and Icarus kiss in the field, and then Icarus get hurt, but it wasn’t scary, what kind of worst nightmare was this?

“Todd!” Icarus screamed as he arched and writhed in pain, but Quinn didn’t understand, because the dream shouldn’t be hurting him, it wasn’t like Priest’s nightmare, of Marzana hunting him (the hunter terrified of a bigger hunter, Quinn wanted to laugh, but they thought maybe if they started they might never stop until they fainted) it was nice, most of it. Icarus and the little guy, Todd, they’d been happy, and what the hell kind of nightmare was that?

Quinn was so tired, so tired, they just wanted to sleep, and maybe this time they wouldn’t be hunted in their dreams like they were every day, but they couldn’t be sure… what if this was all one of their own nightmares, wrapping around everyone, bouncing back onto themself, and just… they were so confused…

Icarus yelled Todd’s name again, and he gasped, the weirdly benign nightmare disappearing. But he was still screaming, still squirming, and Quinn held out their hand, not sure whether to aim at Icarus or Todd.

“Please, let me give him his pills, please, he’s going to die like that,” Icarus cried, his arms held up like he was scared of Quinn. But Quinn was the scared one, nobody was scared of Quinn, what was happening, what was going on?

“Please, I beg you, please stop… don’t nightmare me if I go to him, I promise we’ll leave you… we’ll leave you alone, just let me…”

Quinn’s mind was whirling, they couldn’t hold themself up any more, their arm outstretched burning with muscle fatigue, and they slumped forwards. They weren’t sure if they’d decided to do so or not, but it was like drawing breath for the first time after drowning and they staggered forwards onto their hands and knees, gulping air as Icarus threw himself across the warehouse, hands trembling as he tipped pills into Todd’s mouth.

“It’s OK, Todd, you’ll be OK, please swallow them, please… you’ll be OK.” He sniffled and wiped his nose, and held Todd’s head on his lap, rocking back and forth the way they all used to when training got really bad. Quinn rested their head on the ground and closed their eyes.

***

Todd opened his eyes, his throat raw and powdery, bitter from the drugs. Every muscle was lax and overworked, and he felt feverish after the imaginary ice had drained from his body.

He knew it would be normal, but he could never seem to resist holding up his hand, marvelling at the intact skin where he’d just watched it blacken and crumble away in extreme frostbite, flesh shattering and crackling as if he’d been dipped in liquid nitrogen.

And then his nightmare came back, that awful dream where it was Dirk suffering, where he’d lied to someone else he loved, and for the first time after an attack he smiled because that’s all it had been. He was still the one who had pararibulitis, Dirk was safe, or as safe as Dirk ever could be, and he hadn’t lied again.

But Dirk was crying, rocking as he held Todd and that wasn’t good enough. Still blurred with sleep and exhaustion, Todd sat up and wrapped his arms around Dirk’s hunched body, hushing him and pulling him close. “You’re OK, you’re safe.”

“You nearly died,” he wept, clinging on to Todd’s shirt, his fingers tangled in the flannel.

“Nah, I’m fine, see? It was just an attack, and you helped, you were awesome, thank you.”

“I tried to be faster, I’m sorry, Todd, but Morpheus wouldn’t let me go to you… I should have been braver, I should…”

“Hey, no, don’t do that. It’s all fine, I’m-- wait, where’s Morpheus now? Where’s… shit, is Priest dead, or was that an… an illusion or something?”

They staggered to their feet, both shaking from the adrenaline come-down. Todd sidled up to the bloody corpse and scrunched his nose up. “Yeah, I think we can safely say he’s dead.”

“Morpheus is asleep,” Dirk called. But as he leaned over the sleeping figure, Morpheus groaned, blinked, and startled into a crouch, their arm out to blast Dirk into a nightmare and hell no!

Todd threw himself in front of Dirk, covering as much of him as he could with his too-small body and outstretched arms, and snarled at Morpheus. “Leave him the fuck alone, asshole!”

Morpheus blinked and sagged slightly, and Todd felt sympathetic exhaustion in his own knees and shoulders and every inch of his body. “You just—“

“Todd, no,” Dirk gasped, tugging at him, but for a tall guy he was no match for Todd’s better centre of gravity and spiteful stubbornness. “Morpheus, please, don’t—“

“My name’s Quinn,” they said, and dropped their hand. They frowned at Todd. “I saw your nightmare. It didn’t seem so scary.”

“Yeah, well, better me than Dirk, then, huh? Also fuck you.”

“Is that the worst thing?” they asked, and Todd realised they weren’t asking to be an asshole. They genuinely seemed to find it difficult to understand. “Him hurting… is that the worst thing that could happen?”

“Yes,” he said through gritted teeth. “So leave him alone.”

“We just want to help,” Dirk said, one hand clenched in Todd’s shirt. “We don’t mean any harm, we were just investigating. The nightmares. That’s… that’s what I do now, I help. I can help. We can, I mean, me and Todd and Farah and… how long have you been free?”

“Six years,” Quinn said softly. “The security never quite got back to what it was after you guys got out. It was worse for a while but… they were… brittle. Like they knew it was only a matter of time before we all…” they shrugged. “Anyway, I got out. Been running ever since.”

Todd relaxed a bit more, still keeping his own body between Quinn and Dirk’s but letting his muscles unclench just a little. “We can look after you,” he said, only a little grudgingly. “We’re getting better at staying away from Blackwing--”

Quinn shook their head. “Blackwing’s gone. I saw Bart a little while ago, she told me. Said the universe got too loud in her head, she had to… to kill them all. Priest was the only one who got away, but even so…” they glanced at Priest’s crumpled body. “Looks like she had a bit of an impact, if she was his worst nightmare.”

“So you don’t choose the nightmares?”

“No.” They frowned at Todd. “I certainly wouldn’t have chosen… anyway. I just… I just want to be free.”

“We can call Amanda,” Dirk nodded, and stepped closer to Quinn, firmly nudging Todd to the side. “She’ll take you anywhere you want to go, she’s good at that, isn’t she?” Todd shrugged, but now Dirk had said it, he saw it was true. Amanda just had a sense of where people needed to be, where they would feel at home. “She hangs around with the Rowdies now - Project Incubus, you know? They’re… better now she’s with them.”

Quinn raised their eyebrows. “Well, they couldn’t be much worse.”

Todd snorted, and Dirk smiled. “They do stay away when we ask them, at least.”

Quinn took a deep breath, and nodded. “OK. It’s not like… I don’t really know what to do with myself, so someone who knows what to do with me… yeah. Makes sense.” They sighed and sat down on the floor like a marionette with broken strings, filthy and surrounded by blood and dust.

“C’mon,” Todd said, holding out a hand, then pulled back. “Uh, you’re not going to give me a nightmare just by touching me, right?”

“No,” Quinn smirked. “I have to mean it. Sometimes it happens when I’m really scared myself, but… I’m getting better at control. I used to have to touch people to set them off, now I can project the power.” They glanced at Priest. “I had to… had to make myself into a distance weapon.”

“Up you get then,” Todd said. It was only a matter of time before it all hit Quinn, what they’d done, killing someone with his own dreams, and it would probably be good if they weren’t near a dead body when the shock hit. “Stinks in here.”

The three of them stumbled out of the old, red-brick warehouse, Quinn with their arm thrown over Todd’s shoulder, and Dirk on the phone to Amanda. Todd could hear her voice, shrill with fear and anger at them for rushing in without calling for backup - again - and just felt tired, down to his bones. He slumped down onto a low, crumbling wall next to Quinn, and the two of them slouched with their elbows on knees, empty.

The autumn sun went some way to banishing the fear and tension, muscles melting like ice into a shaky puddle of exhaustion, rather than a vibrating string, nearing hysteria. By the time the van drew up, earth-shaking music possibly slightly quieter than usual, Todd realised he was slumped against Dirk, and sat up, embarrassed.

“You’re idiots, both of you,” snapped Farah, hands on hips. “What the hell did you not understand about that lecture on teamwork?”

“Which one,” snorted Todd.

“Take your pick.” She crouched down in front of him, turning his face from side to side by his chin. “Are you hurt, any of you?”

He shook his head, but Dirk piped up “Todd had an attack.”

“It’s fine,” he groaned. “I had my pills.”

“That was my fault, I’m afraid,” Quinn said, hand up, eyes wide and worried. “I nightmared him.”

“So you’re Morpheus,” Amanda said, her arms crossed and her face hard. Todd didn’t know why, she wasn’t usually so stand-offish.

“Quinn,” said Dirk, before Quinn could correct her himself. “Morpheus isn’t their name any more.”

Amanda’s glare softened a bit, and she even quirked Quinn a reluctant half-smile.

They told the story as quickly as they could. Todd managed to skip over the awful dream, and although Dirk and Quinn glanced at him, they didn’t add anything. Todd almost sagged with relief, he didn’t want Amanda to have any reminders of what he’d done to her, how little he deserved. Farah made some calls to her nebulous, magical contacts who knew what to do with the bodies of shadowy government agents murdered by their own nightmares, and Amanda took Quinn off to re-introduce them to the Rowdies and Beast.

“Thank you,” said Dirk’s soft voice, and Todd turned in surprise.

“For what?”

“You stood in front of me… you were going to take a nightmare again for me. You didn’t have to… I wouldn’t have wanted you to…”

Todd looked away, awkward. “Yeah, well… your nightmares would have been ten times worse than mine.”

He cocked his head. “You think?”

“Of course, I mean, you have nightmares all the time, from… from Blackwing, and those bastards…” he clenched his fists on his thighs. “I’m glad he’s dead,” he hissed at the cracked tarmac under his feet.

“I don’t dream of Blackwing,” he said, grabbing Todd’s hand. “Or… no, I do, I guess, but not about me being there. I dream…” he took a deep breath. “I see you. There. I see them doing the tests on you, setting off… setting off attacks to study them, I see… I see myself as one of the agents, hurting you, and…”

“Hey, hey, it’s OK. It’s not real, it’s…” Todd turned and held Dirk’s face cupped in both hands. “I’m fine, you see? It’s all over. Blackwing’s gone, Bart killed them all. You’re safe, we both are, OK?”

Dirk nodded hard, his breath still shaky, his eyes still damp. Todd realised he was still cupping his jaw, started to pull away, but Dirk covered his hands, holding them against his face. “In your dream… your nightmare, I was… I kissed you. We were together.”

Todd pulled away and clenched his fists again. “Shit, I’m sorry, Dirk, I didn’t… I never meant for you to know. I swear I never expected anything, I just… can you forget it?”

“You want that? You want me to kiss you?”

“I mean, it’s fine,” he said, shaking his head, trying to crush that weak, pathetic voice that swelled up inside his chest crying yes! “I’ll get over it, it’s just--”

“Please don’t,” he said, his voice breathless, and Todd looked up because wait, this couldn’t be-- but it was. Dirk’s long fingers wrapped around his skull, buried in the hair at the back of his neck, and he kissed him, lips pressed gently, hungrily to his, so brave and so afraid of being pushed back, and fireworks went off behind Todd’s eyes as he wrapped his arms around Dirk’s neck and kissed back.

“Fucking finally!” whooped Amanda, and Todd didn’t even break the kiss, didn’t even hold up his middle finger, because he would happily be embarrassed and blushing every day for the rest of his life if Dirk would just keep kissing him, keep whimpering into his mouth, pressing closer and clinging to him.

When they finally broke apart, Todd buried his face in the junction of Dirk’s neck and shoulder, let himself be small and sheltered, because when it mattered, when he needed it, he’d be strong, he’d stand in front of Dirk again and keep him safe, because together they’d save each other, again and again, in every way.

@bananaslugger20

[neighbours-kid]

2018

I honestly don’t even know where to start.

How does one talk about a year like this?

I’ll try and start at the beginning.

The beginning of my 2018 was very hectic. I started the new year in London with my two closest friends. We were standing on Primrose Hill with probably a few hundred other people, waiting for Big Ben to chime in the new year, and the fireworks over London to start. It was freezing cold, but we had a blast. We returned to Switzerland on January 01, I spent one very hectic day of double- and triple-checking my bags, and seeing some people for the last time for six months.

On January 03 I had my flight to New York City, via Dublin. It was….quite a day, I was highly emotional because everything seemed to fall apart, I had at least one anxiety attack, and it just wasn’t fun. But in the end—and after a night spent in a Dublin airport hotel—I arrived in my East Harlem airbnb in New York for my Stay Abroad around midnight between January 04 and 05.

What I did in New York for my six months stay, you can read on this blog right here, beginning with Part I. You can find links for the other parts at the end of that post.

Being in New York was a highly enjoyable time for me. It gave me the opportunity to become more of myself, be who I am more honestly, more truly, and more openly. I learned a whole lot about the film industry, about so many integral parts of what makes movies good, I learned a lot about myself, who I am and who I want to be, but I think most importantly, and most prominently, I met so many wonderful people who share a lot of interests with me, and who made this adventure unforgettable.

At the end of my time in New York, my mom came to visit me for a week, and we did all the touristy things. We walked up and down Broadway, we saw Time Square, we did The Empire State Building, visited the 9/11 Memorial and the museum, I took her to Brooklyn to eat at Peaches and then we went all the way down to Coney Island. We went all the way up to Washington Heights, went to the MoMA, walked a bit in Central Park, and visited my stomping ground from the Filmmaking Workshop (including eating at Café Katja and going up on the rooftop of my friend’s airbnb). I took her to NYFA where I spent most of my time these six months, she met some of my friends, she had my well-loved lobby-guy-iced-coffee, and ate the deli salad that I had eaten so many times. We saw Hello Dolly thanks to my lovely host, we did the Liberty and Ellis Island boat tour, we found the place Tom Hanks and Meg Ryan finally kiss in You’ve Got Mail (91st Street Garden, Riverside Park), and saw Ocean’s Eight. We both flew back home on July 12, ending my six months adventure in NYC.

And then came the slump.

I came home from six months of doing things I’ve never done before, I came home to good old Switzerland — which at first I was very happy about because I was so TIRED, but there were reasons why I was excited to leave in the first place, so y’know, that was certain to catch up with me — and I was like, what now? And I had no idea.

I hung out with friends and watched the World Cup finale. But then I also went to my grandma’s funeral. But then I saw my dad, and went to a birthday of a friend. I went to the movies, and was able to work for a few days. I went to my cousin’s birthday dinner, my friend’s bachelorette party, a park event of our church.

I was able to celebrate my own birthday with people who I cared about, went to brunch with another dear friend, and yet another birthday. And more work. And my friend’s wedding.

All those things (except the funeral of course) were really cool and I enjoyed seeing my friends, my people.

But in all of that I was just….lost.

I came home from six months of doing so much cool stuff, speaking a language I feel way more comfortable in than my mother tongue, met people I can hopefully call friends for life, became more comfortable in my own skin and started taking steps into the direction where my true self was waiting—I came home, new me came home into old me’s home, and I was lost.

University started and while I missed some of it, I also realised more and more how much I really hated other things.

And during all of that, I was living with friends dear to me for three months. And during that time I realised even more that how things are right now is not a way they can stay for much longer.

Luckily, one of my circumstances changed within the first few weeks of studying. I looked at an apartment with my mom, we both loved it, I applied for it the next day, and the day after that, I got the phone call that I got the place. I was able to move in on October 20, and the rest is history. Having my very own place, where only I live and nobody else, has been very good for me. It’s giving me an even clearer picture of who I am and where I want to go next year.

More lovely birthdays filled those months, more fantastic movies, good days with friends, with family, and some actually really decent days at university. I binge-watched The Mentalist within a month, started reading a book again that I really like, and for a while there, the slump stopped, and I wasn’t so lost anymore.

I finally got my ass to my doctor and did some general check-up, found out that my iron is pretty low and I’m taking stuff for that now, I was able to have a very honest conversation with my doc and she’s forwarded my info to a psychiatrist who should contact me in the next few weeks or months, so that I can start my 2019 knowing that things might actually start going in the right direction for once.

I know, this all sounds like a very good year over all. And it was, for some parts. But 2018 didn’t go by without anything bad happening. Sure, most bad things that happened this year, didn’t personally affect me. I’m not one of the kids separated from their parents at the border. I’m not one of the kids whose school got shot up by a lunatic. I’m not part of a caravan looking for refuge and not being accepted in a country that prides itself to be a country where everyone is accepted. I’m not an unwillingly pregnant woman who can’t get an abortion in my own country. I’m not one of the many people who have lost loved ones to gun violence, white supremacy, racism, homophobia, and many more reasons this year.

I’m lucky, you know. I’m not from a country lead by dictators, white supremacists or literal nazis. I don’t live in a war zone. I’m also white and 99 out of a 100 times don’t get people yelling obscenities at me on the street. I don’t have to fear being assaulted when I walk alone at night, I don’t have to be afraid when police approaches me, I don’t get harassed for how I look or how I speak or where I’m from. I’m lucky.

But hearing these stories every day, reading about so much injustice and hate every day, opening twitter to connect to my international friends and seeing all this crap that is happening every day all over the world, it doesn’t just go by you without having an impact. I lived in a country currently lead by an actual literal fucking nazi and his fucking nazi friends for six months, and even though I lived in New York City, which is kind of a bubble within the states, I felt that, I felt the impact this leadership — or lack thereof — had on the people of this country. I listened. I heard people talk. I had these conversations myself. Living among people who are afraid every day of their lives because the person who is supposed to be leading this country into a brighter future, is an actual nazi who thinks it’s okay that people don’t have access to health care, that children are taken away from their parents, that children keep dying, that people fleeing bad circumstances are being detained in prison camps, this fear doesn’t just go by you. I could go on, but I’m already sick to my stomach just thinking about all this. I experienced this fear during those six months. Not personally, but I felt it all around me. And, if you are even remotely a decent person with some percentage of compassion, that doesn’t leave you unscathed. It makes me angry and sad and frustrated.

2018 was a hell of a year, and I don’t mean that positively.

I still believe there are good people in this world. I see it. I see them every day. I know they exist, I know they’re there, and I know they fight for a better future. But damn. I also see so much hate, so much injustice, so much of what should not be there.

I thought about quitting twitter or at least unfollowing/muting all political talk, because I just keeps dragging me down. But I didn’t. I can’t. I refuse to turn around and close my eyes on all this crap that is happening. If I don’t have twitter, there will come a moment, where I won’t have any idea what is happening, and that will make me susceptible to all the lies that are being told and I can’t have that. I refuse to be one of the sheep who just follows where everyone else goes. Even if my mental health takes a toll, and it does and it will, I refuse to turn a blind eye to what is happening.

I don’t know what these last days of 2018 still hold. I have this week of class left. I have my English Department Christmas Party to go to, I have Christmas with Mom, Christmas with Dad, Christmas with my Quasi-Family, Christmas with my friends. I have some days in between with no plans, I have no clue what I’ll do on New Year’s Eve. I have these plans, but so much could still be happening.

As for 2019….I don’t know what to expect. I have hopes, of course. Doubts, sure. Wishes, definitely. Some plans here and there, too. But who knows what exactly it’ll bring.

I don’t usually do this — I don’t think I’ve actually every done this — but here’s a list of things I’d like to achieve in 2019:

Finish my Bachelor’s Degree.

Have at leats one hands-on creative outlet.

See a Psychiatrist and establish a routine with them.

Establish a basic workout routine that doesn’t require a gym.

Find a job OR decide which Masters to do.

I’m gonna keep it at that. Start small, right?

If everything goes how it’s seems right now, points 1 and 3 are already looking very good. We’ll work on the rest.

On a global scale, I don’t expect there to be any changes in 2019. I hope, of course, but I don’t expect it. Personally, however, I hope that 2019 can be a good year for me. Taking me further on this journey that I started a while ago. I have a feeling that it will do that. I’m hopeful.

I wish you all a very pleasant festive time, and a hopefully not horrible rest of 2018. You deserve good things and I wish you all the best of them. Hug some loved ones. Indulge in something you like. We only have this one live, might as well make the best of it.

Merry Christmas, guys.

[drawf0ur]

Lily’s Storm: Chapter One

In the quiet, little known county of Cheshiresville, Great Britain, about 300km or so away from London, there's a quiet, little known city called Molstenshire.

It’s the kind of place you would only ever know about if you were born there or a had family there, A quiet, secluded city, where the winter is so cold you have to wear a scarf over your mouth just to breathe properly outside and the only tourists you ever see are backpackers lost on their way to London.

In the centre of that city is a big concrete building,

A tall, brutal grey skyscraper, looming over the city's CBD; the Molstenshire Police Department's Headquarters.

And inside that big concrete building is a dark room, containing only a rusty, worn out light swinging from a dusty cable attatched to the ceiling, two rusted out old folding chairs and a decrepit, wobbly green desk.

Sitting at one of those chairs is a boy...

                                                "Wow, nice table, is that the new Ikea X Pyongyang collab?" the boy said with a grin, leaning back in his chair and putting his hands in his pockets.

Sitting across from him is a man in a dark blue uniform, with a shiny silver badge on his chest, slowly flipping through the contents of a thin, beige manilla folder.

"Hmmmm, Kira Masamune, 18 years old, student at North Quinnston High, just finishing your last year too..." The man said, ignoring his question, a wide smirk across his face.

"Perfect grades, perfect record, no previous recorded infractions whatsoever... an immigrant from Japan i see! interesting..." Said the man, before closing the file and putting it down on the desk, staring the boy in the eyes.

"So how was it that a perfect student like you ended up with your pants down, in school uniform, having sexual intercourse with another student in a park in the middle of the day?"

The boy's smug grin grew wider in response to the officer's question, staring the officer in the eye right back.

That boy was me.

"It all began when i moved here, in 9th grade"

"My story starts in an aeroplane..."

                    [3 years ago]

I was sitting in a chair, an uncomfortable, hard blue chair, with the material of a bus chair, but the design and feel of a shitty budget aeroplane seat, i was in the middle seat of our row, 12-B to be exact, because my dad insisted on having the isle seat so i didn't "Hold everyone up by slacking off"

I just responded by rolling my eyes and complying, sometimes it's just better not to argue with him. Besides, i really didn't have the energy to sit through a one hour argument about why i should or should not have the isle seat after our long journey, all i wanted to do was get home, collapse into my new bed and sleep.

The passengers were all silent as the big, long metal behemoth rolled along the tarmac, every second felt like a thousand years as i waited for the plane to come to a stop, only a thin, white metal door between me and freedom, my new life...

I'd just been on a long, brutal series of flights, from my home town in Shikoku to Tokyo, from Tokyo to London, and then finally from London to Molstenshire, me and my family were moving to Molstenshire to be closer to my uncle, Takano, he was very sick at the time and my Dad wanted to be close to his brother.

He was very worried about his health and wanted to be able to keep an eye on him, he'd never admit that though, just dismissing it with "He's a grown man, he can take care of himself, we're just moving here because it's a fresh start for our family, and this way i can catch up with him and get a beer from time to time"

My dad's a very tough and stoic man, but deep down inside he really cares about us, all of us, my mum, my uncle, my grandparents, everyone, he has a very big heart, he just has a hard time admitting that he has emotions.

I sat there in my seat as i waited for the seatbelt sign to turn off, staring out my mum's window, watching all the workers in their bright orange vests run around the tarmac frantically, yelling instructions at eachother.

Apparently when you're a menial labourer, a total slave to this bleak world, grinding your life away to get nowhere and do nothing until you die, fueling up aeorplanes is actually interesting, and worthy of running around, jumping over baggage carousels and sprinting down the tarmac for.

Eventually the plane came to a stop.

*Bing bong*

"The seatbelt sign is now off, please grab your bags from the overhead lockers and disembark the aircraft in an orderly fashion, the local time is 5:59PM and the tempterature is -5 degrees, thank you for flying with Union Airlines!" The captain said over the microphone.

My dad got up first, retrieving his big black bag from the overhead locker before standing looking at me. I was completely mesmerized watching the workers on the tarmac run around, completely unaware that my Dad was standing next to me, staring at me with an angry look on his face as all of the other passengers began to disembark.

"Come on Kira, get your things. We still have to make it to Burger King before we go, i'm starving and it closes at 6:20, i am not waiting until we get all the way home to eat because you won't get your ass out of your seat" my dad said in a stern voice.

I rolled my eyes at him again and got up, retrieving my luggage from the overhead compartment, waiting for mum and disembarking the aircraft with my family.

       ��                                                                                                                       "How the fuck is this relevant Kira???" The officer said with an impatient look on his face

"Calm down, it's all gonna make sense, it's relevant to the story, the airport's where i met her" i said, The officer's impatient frown slowly transforming into a sly grin in response to my statement...

"Ah yes, Offender number 2, one Lily Fisher, go on..." the officer said, leaning back in his chair and lighting up a cigarette, light flooding the cold dark room...

                                                                                                                             Me and my family followed the other passengers through the winding, white metal and glass tunnels, walking through the exit and leaving the gate with our luggage, before all stopping and facing eachother to figure out what we're gonna do next.

My Dad turned to my mother and said "Alright, Hitomi, you come with me to get the food"

My mum nodded in response.

"And Kira, you wait here, we'll come back with everything, then we'll all eat our food and take a taxi to our new home, alright?"

"Alright cool" i said, walking over to the gate and looked for a place to sit down, eventually deciding on a seat, right in the middle of a long, seemingly endless row of plastic seats.

I let go of my bright blue wheely bag in front of the seat so i could watch it and i slouched back in the chair as i waited, my body sinking into the cold, cheap, crappy chair.

Without thinking, i put my arm on the armrest, somehow not noticing the girl nect to me until there was something soft and warm directly underneath my hand, but i didn't think much of it until i heard a girl's voice from the seat next to me.

"You're awfully rude, holding a Lady's hand without even asking her name???"

I quickly spun my head around and, to my shock, there was a girl there in the seat next me, staring at me with a big smirk on her face and giggling as my face turned tomato red.

I frantically began to apologize, but just as i started to get the words out, the girl cut me off;

"I'm Lily, it's nice to meet you" The girl said, her long, wavy silver hair draped over her shoulders, her deep brown mischievous eyes intimidating me to my core as she stared into my eyes intensely.

"I-i'm kira" i said, looking down in embarassment...

END OF CHAPTER ONE

Author's note: I'll put out Chapter 2 soon but for now this all i've got, a little teaser into the story, It's gonna be a big project. Sorry about the wait, i may or may not be developing an Azur Lane addiction xD

If you want updates on when the next part of my debut story is coming out, follow my twitter, the link's on my page.

Don't worry, i won't shove my political dick down your throat xD

All the best, DrawF0ur

[dreadhaus-literature]

{A/N}

I’m still trying to decide if I’m going to aim for a 3rd OC to round out the challenge, tonight. I’m feeling a little dry on the creative front, and 2 out of 3 is respectable.

I’m also trying to teach myself I don’t have to be writing 100% of the time to be productive.

So while I decide whether or not to try and create a 3rd new OC, I figured I’d drink my coffee and come talk about some stuff.

It’s pretty common knowledge that I think a lot. I overthink, a lot. And as I’ve gotten more into fandoms again, I’m seeing the climate around things change from when I was writing for fandoms before. And this isn’t so much a rant about fandoms as it’s me...questioning my writing and if I’ll be okay, putting my stuff out there.

Y’see, we all know Tumblr’s a pretty toxic place, if you’re not in the “THIS IS OKAY TO LIKE” box, you’re gonna get death threats and shamed and...all that fun stuff. And I’ve always existed outside of that box. I like BDSM, necro, cannibalism, etc, and none of that is mainstream or “acceptable” to like. And as I’ve been paying attention and watching and just sort of...putting my ear to the wall (because I don’t participate in shit) it’s left me feeling like I shouldn’t create, because nothing I create is “okay” by the standards of people that are out there.

And it’s weird, because when I was younger I never used to give a shit. I’d write what I wanted and fuck anyone who didn’t like it. But it seems the scales have tipped so far the other way; where before people would just quietly peruse what they like and ignore what they didn’t, I feel like now they make lynch mobs and try to destroy you as a person because omg you like littlespace? How very dare.

It might have something to do with my emotional state, right now. I’m very...I don’t want to say fragile? Not because I have a problem with being fragile but more because I’m just tired, emotionally. I’ve hit this point where I’m just too tired for drama and bullshit because I’m just trying to make it to tomorrow. So the thought of creating something that I like, that I enjoy, and someone coming to scream “THIS IS WRONG AND YOU SHOULD FEEL BAD” at me just...does not interest me in the slightest.

Even just with creating characters, I was thinking of creating a new monster...because uhm, yaaas, but when I was doing research there’s all these folks barking and screeching about how you can’t create monsters using Native American lore because it’s wrong or how Jewish people own certain myths and you can’t use them and I just...I really didn’t want to get to a point where I’m saying people are too sensitive (because that’s the older people’s battle cry and I think sensitivity is important) but if I want to create a monster based off the wendigo...why can’t I just do that? Why is that so offensive and horrible to a group of people whom I don’t know and don’t know me? I’m not doing it to be shitty. Tbh it’s a form of respect because I think the lore is badass and I want some of that.

It reminds me how I saw a long thread (this was ages ago) about a little white girl who wanted to throw a geisha-inspired tea party and her mom did all this research and reached out to Japanese...people (I don’t recall what they did, officially) and she put on this real authentic party for her daughter and it was really respectful and there were all these people just up in arms about it, calling it appropriation and while I 10000% believe appropriation is a thing, not everything is appropriation. And if we start drawing those sorts of lines, we’re all gonna lose 97% of the shit we enjoy because it belongs to some other race or culture.

So I don’t know. Seeing all this discourse and angry shouting just adds to my “oh my god I’m old and tired” mood because I want to create all sorts of things but I’m terrified that I’m going to create something offensive without realizing it’s offensive???

The monster thing really fucking threw me.

And I know. Folks in the internet don’t own shit and I don’t owe anyone an explanation for the shit that I do. I know I’m coming from a place of respect and just trying to enjoy myself and I shouldn’t feel bad about that--I know all that. Part of my issue with seeing this sort of stuff is because I was raised to not believe my opinion or thoughts or feelings about something is worth a goddamn, which is why people say things and I nod and shut up. I’m still working on it.

Which brings me to something else that’s been tumbling around in my head--think I’m going to take a page out of Beesly’s book and try to be more assertive this year/for the rest of my life. It’s something that I’ve struggled with my whole life, for reasons that I assume are obvious, and I want to...get over that. I realize there’s lots of things I want to do and don’t because I’m too worried about what someone else may say or think or do about it and so I just...don’t. And I wind up regretting my silence or in-action and then I feel bad. And to be clear, I’m not even talking about shitty things. I mean I don’t do small things, like talk about my own likes or interests or even buying certain things because I don’t think I should, because someone else might side-eye or it might bother someone. I have always done this and I still do it and I swear to god even on my own fucking cellphone sometimes I won’t set certain characters as my wallpaper because I don’t feel like I have the right to do it.

I mean how fucking stupid is that.

But it’s a real issue and it keeps me from enjoying simple things that don’t bother anyone. And I realize I have a lot of anger and resentment built up that I need to start working on, and this type of behavior only adds to it. I feel like I have this gluttonous monster that follows me around, and has since I was a kid, and it’s just huge and gross (even for me, lol) and I keep feeding it so it sticks around. And it just keeps getting bigger and bigger and the more I feed it the worse I feel because it’s constantly bothering me.

I just...I’m sure it sounds stupid but I really need my 30′s to be better than my 20′s and this new decade thing, like I either gotta pull the trigger on some change and making my life better...or really pull the trigger and be done with it. I’m stuck in places I don’t like being and I’m sick of coming back to these spaces and saying I’m stuck. How many years am I gonna do that?

Hopefully, no more years, lol.

I just have to teach myself worth, I guess. That’s the root issue of all the stuff I was just talking about. I don’t value myself enough to put my foot down about things or to just openly like something without worrying about what anyone else might think about it--and don’t get me wrong, I’ve always done my own thing and I didn’t care how off-brand it was. I like weird shit and always have; when I say openly liking something I mean not feeling like I don’t belong liking it. And the worth issue applies to my writing, too.

Because circling back to the whole, “you can’t like this because I think it’s wrong,” thing, I was reading a thread a couple days ago about how the main actor in that You show, he goes on Twitter and corrects women who like his character, and of course Tumblr is praising him and saying how you shouldn’t like his character and that behavior is toxic.

And yeah, in real life, it is. And you shouldn’t put up with anything you’re not comfortable with.

But I was reading this and thinking to myself...y’all really can’t separate fantasy from reality anymore. Y’all have just blurred that line to the point where people can’t even enjoy fake shit because you think that means they like it IRL. And it’s fucking nuts.

As someone who has existed in their own fantasy world for 30 years, I can safely say, there’s shit I enjoy in fantasy I wouldn’t IRL. I love super controlling behavior on paper but I wouldn’t be able to deal with it in a real relationship. That shit hits way too close to home--but I have control over it in my head, so it’s perfect. And that’s why fantasy is so important.

Take cannibalism. Could someone cut off my arm and eat it IRL? I mean they could, but...don’t? I need it for things.

But they can in my head, and on paper, and I enjoy reading about it. Experiencing it that way, because it’s the only safe, sane way to experience it.

I fucking love unhinged, crazy characters who are obsessive and possessive to the point of murder and I can’t enjoy that shit IRL but I’m fucking fine to fantasize about it--but everyone is out there tooting their shame horn and I just...let people enjoy things? Like why the fuck are they so pressed.

It’s like sitting down to eat at your table, in your house, with your favorite meal all nicely prepared in front of you. But you happen to look up, and see that across the street, your neighbor is eating some shit you hate. Like you can’t stand what they’re eating. But they’re in their house, and you can’t smell it, and you don’t have to eat it...yet instead of eating your own goddamn meal, you get up from the table, march across the street, and bang on your neighbor’s door to yell at them about some shit you don’t like. How dare they eat something you don’t like?

That’s what it’s like, to me. The shit I like, that I’m into, doesn’t hurt any-fucking-body, because it’s fantasy. But people will scream at the top of their fucking lungs about how it’s gross and nasty and they don’t want to see it (even though they found it, somehow) and because they hate it I’m terrible for liking it. It just...ugh. It’s such an illogical argument.

I don’t like Katy Perry. I think she’s a garbage human being who got famous because she’s “pretty” and pretended to be bisexual for a while but y’know what? I don’t give a shit about her or anyone who likes her. I don’t care, and when I say I don’t care, I mean like it doesn’t affect or bother me that anyone else is into her. She can do her, and they can do them, and I’mma do me.

But it’s borderline impossible for people to stay in their goddamn lane and it’s nuts. Like as a gay woman who grew up watching adults argue about gay marriage I remember thinking, even as a gayby, why do so many straight folks care? Like why do they give a shit who someone else is marrying? But they did. They still do.

And that’s what it reminds me of. That us younger generations love to brag about how we’re more open and progressive than our parents and grandparents and yeah, we don’t lynch people of color or keep the LGBT community closeted but if you enjoy BDSM/littlespace or god forbid ship the wrong characters together you’re probably gonna get death threats and bullied off an internet platform.

So yeah. That’s just been rattling around in my head the past few days, as I’ve been workshopping OC’s and tossing around ideas of what to write about this year. My interests have and always will be counter-culture/alternative and I always anticipate there’s going to be someone who isn’t into what I do. That’s...kinda been my label? Like I’m not “one size fits all”, lol, but beyond all the discourse and stuff it leaves me wondering what sort of audience I’ll even have.

I don’t pretend to be the only one into these sorts of things, I know there’s other weirdos out there and stuff, they’re just sitting quietly amongst all the shouting and screaming, like I am. And I guess if that’s my audience, I’ll take it. I don’t have these big aspirations of necessarily being famous (being rich would be nice because...money worries, lol, I’m way over them) but I always liked Christine’s hustle. She writes (prolifically, good god) for her fans and that’s what she’s happy doing. Doesn’t matter that she isn’t a household name, she’s got devoted fans and that is the kind of fanbase I’d like as an author. I don’t need to be liked by everyone, I just want to write and if I happen to make someone happy, well, mission accomplished.

So in the meantime, just going to keep plugging away at myself, letting 2020 be the year of change and growth. So far it’s been...I mean I think it’s gone well. I’ve finished the first writing challenge I issued myself, so there’s that!

But alas, my coffee cup is empty and it’s time for a refill.

I’ll be back soon, likely to issue and then destroy the next challenge of 2020.

[achillestiel]

All That Glitters | Chapter Four | ao3 Link

Filming continued well into the afternoon. All the while, Dean was determined to stay as far away from Jack as humanly possible. It made him well sick to think how much had changed in the space of a year. During filming the year before the pair had been with each other all day. Dean had met Jack three years prior. Jack came to the show as a cameraman while Dean was working non-stop as a producer. They had instantly clicked and within a few months started dating. Dean had to admit that he had fallen head over heels in love with Jack and after two years he’d asked Jack to marry him. Everything had been going brilliantly until the day Jack cheated on him.

It had been brutal. Really brutal. The contestant that Jack had cheated on Dean with was kicked off the show and Jack was instantly fired. Still, rumours circulated the internet about a contestant that was kicked off the show and the reasons why. For weeks after Dean had to see various rumours posted on Twitter and Reddit threads. Eventually, Dean had unplugged himself from his phone and just thrown himself into work. Sam, Jess, and Charlie had all stood by him but for months after Dean couldn’t even think about Jack without wanting to scream.

“Dollar for our thoughts?” Charlie said as she sidled up to him. Without Dean even having to ask, Charlie handed him a large coffee. “Sam told me that you and Jack came to blows earlier on, you ok?” Charlie said as Dean gulped down his coffee.

“Yeah.” Dean muttered. As he drank his coffee he watched the scene in front of them unfold. Cas was sat on an outside coach talking to Amelia. Both of them were talking animatedly about their lives. Dean knew this whole show was bullshit but at least the viewers would think there was chemistry between them.

“Really?” Charlie asked looking dubious. “Because Sam said that shit went down between you two. What happened?”

“The usual. We just can’t be in the same room as each other without screaming.” Dean said. “Crazy to think I was gonna marry him right?”

“Well I know you liked him…ok, loved him but I never liked him. He was a douche. Still is.” Charlie said bluntly.

“Are you just saying that because of what he did?” Dean asked.

“I’m being a supportive best friend, you ass.” Charlie said with a roll of her eyes. “Are you sure you’re alright?” She asked.

“Yeah, seriously Charlie I’m fine.” Dean said. “Camera 4 zoom on Amelia.” He said into his mic. He glanced over at Charlie and gave her a weak smile. “Sure, I yelled at him but it was deserved. Plus, I know Sam is going to make his life hell for the entire time we’re here.”

“Oh yeah, Sam’s got him doing shots of the grounds and all the boring shit.” Charlie said with a snort.

“Dean, where’s my damn kiss?” Josie snapped. “I’m getting bored watching this shit.”

“Viewers are going to think they’re cute together.” Dean said.

“They’re going to see about a minute of this footage, just get me a damn kiss.” Josie replied.  

“Cut!” Dean called. Amelia and Cas jolted like they hadn’t even realised they were being filmed. Cas caught Dean’s eye. Dean motioned for Cas to come over to him. Cas gave Amelia a smile, stood up and walked over to Dean. “Resume filming in two minutes!” Dean called. “Jess, we need highlight and lipstick on Amelia.”

“On it.” Jess shot back, appearing out of the nowhere.

“Everything ok?” Cas asked Dean.

“Yeah, we just need things to be a bit of more…” Dean gestured with his hands. He wasn't remotely surprised when Cas raised an eyebrow.

“Heated?” Cas guessed. Dean nodded. “You do realise that being told to kiss someone is weird, right?” Cas said.

“Dude, this show has been my life for years. Nothing is weird to me.” Dean said. “Cas, we just need one kiss then Josie will back off until tomorrow.”

“Fantastic.” Cas said with a roll of his eyes. Dean gave him a sympathetic look. Unlike all the other suitors on the show, this hadn’t been Cas’ idea. He’d been made to do the show by his father and now he was stuck looking for a future wife.

“Right let’s resume filming.” Dean called. “Cameras 1 and 2, close in and cameras 3 and 4 need to be wide.” All the cameramen got into position, with Sam looking over the monitors to make sure everything looked right. He gave Dean a thumbs up.

“Right let’s go and get me some damn good shots of this kiss.” Josie said. “Then after this, it’s rose time.”

“Got it.” Dean said. “Let’s go everyone.” Dean called and filming resumed. He watched as Cas and Amelia’s conversation flowed. Cas seemed to get into more and moved closer to Amelia, his hand gently placed on her knee.

“Today has been crazy. Crazy but fun.” Amelia said as she smiled at Cas, the lighting picking up her highlight and making her face glow.

“It has, I’ve enjoyed our time together.” Cas said. He smiled at Amelia and right there, Dean knew the viewers would eat it up. Cas was goddamn attractive when he smiled. As Amelia smiled back just as brightly Cas slowly leaned in and kissed her. It wasn’t the ‘panty dripping’ kiss that Josie wanted but it looked genuine enough.

Dean watched on as the two kissed, feeling slightly weird as he did. He really wasn’t sure why. Over the years he’d watched countless contestants kiss the suitors and he’d never felt weird. It was probably due to lack of sleep and his run-in with Jack. At least that’s what Dean hoped it was.

“Wow, obvious much?” Charlie said as she looked Dean up and down.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Dean said far too quickly. Charlie’s eyebrows were raised so high that they disappeared under the thick bangs.

“Yeah, sure you don’t.” Charlie said. “You’re just lucky everyone else isn’t half as observant as I am.” She added with a very smug look.

“Seriously, Charlie I have no idea what you are talking about.” Dean said even though he knew exactly what Charlie was talking about. She knew him far too well and Dean hated that she could read him like an open book. This wasn't the first time that Dean had thought one of the suitors was good looking, during his first year as an intern Dean had harbored a crush on the suitor until he had realised the guy was a complete dick. That didn't seem like the case with Cas. After reading his file, Dean had to admit that the guy was a decent guy. Hopefully, Dean would be able to just ignore the toy crush he could feel developing.

-

After a full day of filming Dean was exhausted and seriously needed a drink. Cas had given the group date rose to Amelia, much to the annoyance of several of Balthazar’s girls. All the producers had been doing ITMs well into the early evening. Dean nearly cried with happiness when Charlie suggested beers by the producer trailers. The evening was hot and muggy, the sun finally going down well after nine. Dean was making his way across the outside decking of the mansion when he heard his name being called. Dean watched as Cas hurried to catch up with him.

"Hey, what's up Cas?" Dean asked. They had only said goodbye a few hours previously but in that time Cas looked like he had showered and changed.

"What are your plans for the evening?" Cas asked with a warm smile.

"I'm just grabbing drinks with the others, why don't you come with us?" He suggested. Normally the suitors kept to themselves but Dean a feeling that Cas was getting either bored or lonely.

"Are you sure they won't mind?" Cas asked. Dean let out a snort. "I'll take that as a no." He said as they walked over to the large sweeping driveway that housed all the producer trailers. Charlie, Balthazar, Sam and a few other members of the crew were sat around drinking bottles of beer.

"Dean will know!" Charlie cried when she saw him. "Was it Kelly or Brooke whose boob fell out during a rose ceremony last year?" She asked.

"Brooke. She was one of my girls." Dean said as he accepted a few bottles of beer from Sam. He handed one over to Cas. "Josie said that there was a five grand bonus for a nip slip during a big event so I told Brooke to wear a tighter dress."

"That's awful." Cas said.

"That's TV man, I didn't think her whole boob would fall out. Made for a good episode though." Dean said. "You guys already know Cas."

"Prince Charming." One of the cameramen said with a nod.

"Cas, you know Charlie already."

"Don't say anything about the shorts." Cas said quickly. Charlie snickered.

"And you've probably seen Balthazar bossing girls around. He's a fellow producer." Dean said nodding over to Balthazar. "The mountain of a man with floppy hair is my brother and head director of photography, Sam."

"Thanks Dean." Sam said with a bitchy look. Sam was famous on set for them.

"And these are a few of our cameramen Miles and Connor." Dean said, ignoring Sam and nodding over at the cameramen. He had known both of them for years.

"Hey man, slumming it with us tonight?" Mike asked as he shook Cas’ hand.

"What do you mean?" Cas asked as he sat down next to Dean.

"Suitors usually just sit in their rooms and never hang out with us." Charlie said. "The girls are nicer and spend a lot of time with us but the suitors never bother."

"Well, that's rude." Cas said bluntly.

"God, where did we find you?" Charlie asked with a shake of her head.

"New York?" Cas said looking over at Dean with a confused look. Everyone chuckled at that.

"Dean, coach your boy." Miles said between laughter. "He's just so..."

"Naive?" Balthazar guessed.

"Ernest." Connor said. Charlie and Miles nodded in agreement.

"Coach me how?" Cas asked.

"You know, what to say to the cameras and stuff like that." Sam said. “It's nothing against you at all Cas, loads of people need coaching on how to act in front of the cameras and what to say in interviews.”

"So like a script?" Cas said. "So much for this being 'reality' TV."

"When has reality TV ever been real though?" Dean asked. He was right and he knew he was. Sometimes reality shows were more heavily produced than scripted shows.  

"Hey, Britney W and Neil are happily married now." Charlie said. Britney W had been Charlie's girl. That was during the Year of The Britney's. Dean knew that they were on good speaking terms and Charlie had gone to the wedding. They were still married and seemed happy from all their social media posts.

"You're buying into the hype." Miles in a teasing tone.

"Shouldn't you all if you work here?" Cas asked. Both Miles and Connor shook their heads.

"We've been here too long." Connor said. "I mean, I've here for five years. Miles has worked on the show for six years and Dean's been here since the dawn of time." Dean nodded in agreement.

"A hundred years before the mast until my debt is paid." Dean said with a fake, but dramatic sounding, sigh. Charlie and Sam rolled their eyes.

"Please stop quoting those pirate films." Charlie said.

"They're timeless classics." Dean said defensively. Sam and Charlie both snorted.

“You only watched them because you thought Orlando Bloom was hot." Charlie said.

"Don't judge me, dude had that Errol Flynn look." Dean said with a shrug. “I'm a sucker for the dark messy hair. Even better if its long enough to grab hold of.” He added.

"Gross." Sam said.

"Homophobe." Dean said, leaning over and punching Sam on the arm.

"Hey!" Sam cried. "I am not!" He added, rubbing his arm as Jess walked over.

"Sam's not what?" She asked as she gracefully sat down on Sam's lap and kissed him on the cheek.

"A giant homophobe." Dean said. Jess glared at Dean before giving Sam a knowing look.

"You bad mouthed Orlando Bloom again didn't you?" Jess asked him.

"We've had to watch those fucking films more times than those old cowboy films, that's saying something." Sam said. Dean stuck his tongue out, fully aware of how childish he seemed. He glanced over at Cas to see how he was doing and was surprised to see a bemused look on Cas' face.

"This is probably the most fun I've had since I got here." Cas said bluntly.

"What? You don't find having a ton of women fawning over you fun?" Balthazar asked. "That's an average Wednesday for me." He added with a smirk.

"Please don't tell us the story of your foursome again. I had weird dreams for days afterwards." Charlie said. She wrinkled her nose is disgust and reached for another bottle of beer.

"I feel like I'm slightly out of my element here, I'm not going to lie." Cas said. Dean really did have to feel for the guy.

"Have you dated many women before you came on the show?" Jess asked.

"I've had a few partners since high school but nothing substantial." Cas said. Dean picked up the word 'partners' straight away and, from the look on her face, so did Charlie. Neither of them said anything though. "I haven't dated much over the past few years because I've been too busy with work. Dating multiple women at one time isn't my thing."

"I can give you a few pointers." Balthazar said with a wink.

"Dude no, the network will not let us air an orgy." Dean said quickly. Balthazar actually looked fairly sad over that.

"Good. Those days are behind me." Cas said. Dean, Sam and Miles all choked on their beers. Dean whipped around and stared at Cas. "What?” Cas seemed totally bemused by their shocked expressions. “College is a time to experiment."

"Of all the things I expected you to say, that was not it." Dean said. Cas actually looked quite smug. "So you've had an orgy, but I had to coach you on how to kiss someone?"

"Kissing is an art. With orgies, you just go with the flow." Cas said without a hint of sarcasm. Dean stared over at Charlie with a shocked expression.

"You, Castiel Collins, are a dark horse." Charlie said with a wicked looking grin.

They drank well into the early hours, Josie coming to join them eventually. She brought a bottle of tequila and the night just dissolved into hysterical laughter. Everyone told Cas various stories of past seasons of the show, Josie revealing the best secrets. She had seen everything over the years. The whole night was good. That was until the rest of the camera crew joined, Jack being among them.

"I'm gonna call it a night." Dean said as soon as he spotted Jack walking towards them.

"Dean, don't leave because of him." Sam said in a low voice. Dean shook his head.

"Nah, I got ITMs with Amelia to do in the morning and the one-on-one to oversee." Dean said before glancing over at Cas. "Want me to walk you back? It's getting late and you have a date tomorrow."

"Oh...yes, thank you." Cas said, draining his beer.

“Who are you picking for the date?” Balthazar asked.

“Oh…Anna.” Cas said. Dean punched the air with triumph. He could tell that he’d end up with at least one of his girls in the finale.

“Fucking hell, Dean always gets the good ones.” Charlie said. “Can't you pick someone like Tiffany or Carlie?” She asked.

“I have no idea who those women are.” Cas said. Dean laughed loudly while Charlie looked pissed.

“I swear next year I'm getting the good ones.” Charlie said, shooting Josie a pleading look. Josie next sat there, drinking her drink and looking smug. “Anyway, see you guys in the morning.” Charlie said to Dean and Cas.

"Thanks for letting me hang out with you all." Cas said.

"It's cool Cas." Charlie said.

"Now just try and act this loose on camera." Josie said, her mind always on the show.

"Night guys." Dean said. Sam shot him a look but Dean just shook his head. He'd talk to Sam in the morning. Cas said his goodbyes and the two of them walked back towards the mansion. Of course, they had to pass Jack and the camera crew as they went.

"Really Dean?" Jack asked.

"Just don't." Dean snapped, not even stopping to give Jack the satisfaction. Dean carried on walking, furiously ignoring whatever Jack was going to say back, until he and Cas arrived at the suitor’s part of the mansion.

“Are you alright Dean?” Cas asked giving Dean a concerned look.

“Yeah…yeah…”

“No offense but I don’t believe you.” Cas said bluntly.

“It’s a long story Cas. I ain’t just saying that to be a dick either, it really is a long story.” Dean said. “I'll probably tell you the whole thing when I'm drunk.”

“I might hold you to that. I can see you being a ‘dark horse’ as well.”

“I don't know if that's a compliment coming from Mr Orgy.”

“Don't knock it until you have tried it Dean, you might find one very enlightening.” Cas said, still without a hint of sarcasm. Seriously, the guy needed to be more like this on camera. The viewers would eat it up. “I'll let you get to bed, you have an early morning.”

“Night Cas.” Dean said with a smile.

“Thank you for letting me spend time with you all tonight, I like the people you work with.” Cas said. He sounded genuine as well. He really had enjoyed hanging out with the crew.

“They're basically my family. Well, obviously Sam is family but Charlie and the others are just like family to me as well.” Dean said. “Hey, can I ask you something?”

“It depends on what pure going to ask me.” Cas said, his voice taking on an almost playful tone.

“Earlier on, you said you had ‘partners’ right? Was that just you being a gentleman or…” Dean trailed off when he saw the smirk on Cas’ face. Surprisingly, Cas leaned in closer until he was mere inches away from Dean.

“Maybe I am a gentleman who has happened to kiss men that aren't just you.” Cas said. Dean was fairly sure that his brain was going implode if Cas revealed anything else about his life. The orgy thing was definitely not in his file and neither was the ‘partners’ thing.

“So…”

“You can't just have an orgy full of women Dean, it's a terrible penis to vagina ratio.” Well that just about did it. Dean was convinced that there was nothing else Cas could say that would surprise him anymore. Also several thoughts were running through Dean’s head. Most of them dirty. “And with that, I am going to bed. Goodnight Dean.” Cas said, the smug look still on his face.

“Goodnight Cas.” Dean said, still in shock. Cas gave him one last smile before heading off to his room. Dean stood there in a daze for several minutes until he pulled himself together. As he was walking back to his trailer he felt the phone in his pocket buzz.

Charlie – I get the crush. Even if he is a guy, Cas is a dreamy dark horse.

Dean – I don't have a crush.

Charlie – Sure you don't. Hell, I'd say go for it but you know…he's the suitor.

Dean was about to reply when the phone in his hand buzzed. Not with another text from Charlie but from Josie. That was weird, normally she just yelled at him via their earpieces. She only text when she wanted to make sure no one else would know what they were talking about. Normally was about which intern she was going to fire next or the time her bikini wax gave her a rash. The latter still gave Dean nightmares. The photos she included that hadn't helped.

Josie – Try and get Castiel to act more like he did tonight on camera. I don't care how you do it. Actually, I do. Please don't fuck the suitor.