#Sideships

[jin-zixun]

I mean I'm glad people are out here tolerating suyao and all that but like am I really that alone in thinking that sms is genuinely, from every conceivable angle, the best option for jgy? Like he's the guy. For jgy to be with. Like best boy minshan hands down.

(look at that scared lil jgy! he says he's always scared? but here is guy who protects him? like how is that not the guy?)

[onlyrainbowshipstbh]

Milk and Gemini via johmtalent!

[maxybabyy]

I watched two episodes of the newest too hot to handle season and couldn’t stop thinking about a maxiel au. I imagine max stumbles through the casting for ‘love overboard’ and somehow ends up on the boat with no real interest in anyone on it. he tells the producer as much when they ask him which of the girls he would like to smash. Max: “I would of course not smash any of them” quickly followed by one of the british girls, Emily adding, “Max is hot, yeah? But the doesn’t have the bants to keep up with me.”

Daniel is the last person introduced before the boat shoves off, looking hot in his pastel shorts and a wide, fucking smile. Daniel is born for reality television too, jokes falling from his lips as he charms the rests of the cast. by the time they’re pulling into shore, he’s had three offers to share a cabin and helped Bennie, the law student from Bristol, put sunscreen on her bum. his tongue is halfway down Blaire the New Yorker’s throat, when someone from production has to come drag them back for the announcement that hey are in fact on too hot to handle.

cut to the next day: Daniel is getting a bit in his head about the entire. like, he has three weeks before he has to be back in LA, back to grinding for Instagram followers and shitty sponsorship deals, he’s not going to spend it fucking celibate. hes been floating the idea making a pact with one of the guys to make sure no one is really the first one to break the rules, but no one has taken the bait. Max though, Max keeps following him around. but it makes sense, yeah? they’re, like, the two best looking guys, so of course they should agree so they can divide and conquer without butting heads.

Max full of life as he laughs at all of his jokes, cracks his own dumb quips and watches him with this look – so open and exposed and more raw than anything else Daniel has seen on this fucking show – when Daniel laughs back at him. it’s such a stark contrast to how Max acts in around the girls, but Max is here for reason, Daniel reckons. maybe the silent type really works for him.

he isn’t – he doesn’t even think twice as he asks, “Are you trying to be good, Maxy? like, would you pick the sex over the money?” and Max. Max has been a little bit in love since Daniel stepped onto the boat, sun slick skin that Max feels sick with the need to taste. to lick, to bite into soft flesh and feel the muscle underneath his skin. always max would choose sex, any moment with Daniel is of course good. “I need a rule breaker, maxy. I need a partner in crime for this.”

Max just looks at him for a moment and then before Daniel has time to react, he leans in to kiss him. it's a good kiss, a great fucking kiss. one of the best Daniel has had sober and not fucked out of his mind when every touch feels good. Max clearly knows what he’s does, like – the hand on Daniel’s cheek holding him in place as he licks deep into his mouth. Daniel’s brain is barely catching up when Max pulls back. “There, now of course the girls will not the first to break the rules.”

and Dan’s like, “Yeah, for sure,” walking out in a daze to the pool where Geroge intercepts him and agrees to the pact as well. George who has seen all the previous seasons and knows you have to break the rules first before you can have a redemption story. so he makes out with Bennie by the pool while George and Emily kiss a few feet away. But somehow the kiss is kinda shitty? her lips are too small, and, like, the entire kiss is just a bit too dry? Bennie’s obviously having a good time, but Daniel just cannot get into it.

Daniel goes to sleep in Bennie’s bed, and they kiss – a shitty attempt to evoke some sort of spark inside him – and it’s still kinda ‘meh’. It’s definitely not worth the 3000$ it costs them the morning after. they’re charged 9000$, and that seems fair. Daniel had two kisses, and George kissed – until another couple confesses that they kissed on the beach. And Daniel’s not, he doesn’t really know how all of this works, but this means he gets one for free, right?

he kisses Blaire against the wall next to the fire pit because at least this has to be good, but that turns out shitty too. he doesn’t want to share a bed with Bennie, but he doesn’t want to get in with Blaire either, is just about to abandon ship and sleep on the couch for the night, when Max pulls back the duvet, “You can of course stay with me, Daniel.” so Daniel does.

the price for a kiss has been raised to 6000$ for disrespecting Lana, and Daniel has now cost the group 9000$ – should be 12000$ with all three kisses included – when his kiss with Blaire is revealed. Bennie angry as she taps her foot from where she’s perched next to him, obviously waiting for some kind of explanation that Daniel cannot give, too perplexed by the fact hat it should be hell a lot more than that actually.

cut to the tapes from the night before that some poor production assistant had to go through. Daniel waking up in the middle of the night to Max staring back at him. they don’t kiss, breathing the same air for another moment before Max turns around and presses his back against Daniel’s chest. Max’s ass against his dick until Daniel has no choice but to fuck into the hot, tight space between Max’s thighs, strong and warm and just a little bit sweaty from the hot summer heat. Max doesn’t touch him, squeezes his thighs around him until it’s almost as good as the real thing, until right at the end where he cups a hand around the head of his dick so the come doesn’t spill. Licks it off so there is of course no evidence.

(somewhere in the backroom the Netflix producers are having a meltdown. Daniel was supposed to be their golden goose with the funny accent and good looks, a charming lad who couldn’t stop himself from flirting with all the girls but ultimately settled down when faced with love)

to right the wrongs, Lana invites Daniel to go out on a date with Bennie so he can make up his mind. and it’s fine. Daniel’s a good date, and Bennie seems to make the most of life in Bristol, but he’s just not feeling it anymore, hasn’t been feeling much of it since Max kissed him. so Lana offers to switch her out for Blaire, and Daniel’s like, “sure, whatever.”, his mood only salvaged when Max turns up instead of Blaire (much to the surprise of the producers).

Max steals a kiss at the end of the date, and this time Daniel feels it. the curling of his toes, the lick of Max’s tongue into his mouth, the solid weight of Max’s hard dick as they’re pressed against each other. It makes him feel insane, hungry for anything Max will give him. and like, Max is all for blowing it all up, having sex in the showers, on the beach, in the middle of the night like they did before: wherever of course Daniel will have him.

but 200,000$ is a lot of money, and the distance between LA and London isn’t a joke. Flights are expensive, but Daniel already doesn’t know how he would go on without seeing Max after these three weeks? So he convinces to convince Max to be good, to win them the money so they can keep seeing each other, and it works. mostly.

now with a sequel.

[le-trash-prince]

Thank you Pit Babe fandom writers for all of the lovely fic y’all are putting out; it keeps me going through the week

[merryfortune]

I Do, I Do, I Do, I Do, I Do

August 15th: Marriage | Sea Bathing/Beach | Crossover

Title: I Do, I Do, I Do, I Do, I Do

Ship: Sideshipping | Anzu/Shizuka

Series: Yu-Gi-Oh! Duel Monsters

Rating: T

Word Count: 2,191

Tags: Past/Referenced Child Abuse, Fluff and Angst, Hopeful Ending

   It was a little too late to have cold feet about it. 

   Not too late for a divorce, Shizuka reasoned, even though she and Anzu had only been officially married for all of what… two hours? The cake still had its knife in it in case anyone wanted to go for seconds after the bridal dance.

   Marriage was a big, bureaucratic thing. It also seemed like something well way off into a murky future tomorrow that would never actually become today but lo and behold. The bell now tolled for her and her lover, letting half the countryside know that she had become Mazaki Shizuka. 

   The thought filled her with bubbles for a while. Cheery, exciting bubbles of a happier future which was so faraway, it could never happen. Now it just filled her with bile. She felt like she could puke it all up and over her sparkly white shoes bought especially new for the occasion. She could taste everything at the back of her throat, the wedding cake, the main meal, yesterday’s breakfast, whilst she stared at the champagne slowly going flat in her glass. 

    “Are you okay?” Anzu asked. “Not feeling nervous for our big dance, are you?”

   “Oh, um, only a little.” Shizuka lied through her teeth.

   Anzu reached across the head table and placed her hand at the edge of it. She tapped the pristine tablecloth and coaxed Shizuka to place her hand atop of Anzu’s. That’s better. Anzu held her hand, stroked her skin. A tingle went down Shizuka’s spine as she listened to Anzu’s kind words that proceeded.

   “We’ve practised so much, you’ve done so well. We’re gonna stun.” Anzu encouraged her, entirely oblivious to the problems causing the obvious raincloud of Shizuka’s head.

   “Yayyy.” Shizuka weakly replied.

   That was true. Anzu’s words did spark joy - or at least the idea of it. Shizuka smiled sheepishly as she recalled all the effort that had gone into the wedding. The fraught discussions of if it should go ahead at all because of what Shizuka had witnessed as a child during her own parents’ marriage. It lingered but it didn’t lose her completely.

   She knew the sacrament and milestone meant the world of Anzu who was so full of so many dreams and Shizuka wanted to be one of them. So, she said yes with a heart in the right place and full of hope. The mania that followed was stressful but it was fun, too. She felt like the centre of not only Anzu’s world as her bride to be but the whole world’s.

   Shopkeepers bent over backwards for them as potential patrons since weddings meant an even bigger pricetag could be attached to their goods and services. The window shopping and actual shopping for an engagement ring. Cake testing and florist visiting. Dress shopping was the best and the worst, not a moment was spared in the pursuit of perfectly tailored glamour. 

   The result was that this was not a wedding that had happened overnight with little foresight or forward planning. It had been in the works for two years.

   Yet now, for all that preparation, Shizuka wanted to leave Anzu at the altar. Or she should have. She was regretting not doing that now but it would be a waste to spoil a good dress and a banquet and how much money it cost to hire venues and such.

   The sound of squeaky shoes on linoleum alerted Shizuka to the end of her reverie. Anzu looked up and over her shoulder, welcoming Katsuya back to the head table.

   “Hey girls, I mean, ladies,” he said as he held onto the back of Shizuka’s chair to say hi, “I just got done talking with the DJ, you two’s dance is queued up if you want to get ready. Powder your noses or something first.”

   “Thanks, Katsuya.” Anzu said and she glanced at Shizuka. “Do you need anything first?”

   “Er, nope, I’m good!” Shizuka chirped.

   Anzu gave her a big smile, the corners of her eyes crinkled with laugh lines and excitement. Shizuka’s stomach plummeted to the floor and she was taken by the hand, pulled along by Anzu to the centre of the stage. The lights around the dancefloor dimmed as they made their way to the middle of it. Their guests - only their nearest and dearest - whooped and hollered. 

   A wedding was a series of exciting events - the vows, the kiss, the cutting of the cake, and then of course the dance - but as the final one, this one had the most pressure on it to get right. Or wrong and be made a joke of for years to come. Shizuka hoped that it wouldn’t be the latter.

   She had the world’s best broadway dancer to guide her. She also had eight weeks of practice behind her with the world’s best broadway dancer and her favourite choreographer as well. In theory, she should be fine. Even with what felt like thousands of eyes on her, Shizuka took position with Anzu in front of her.

   Anzu’s hands were calm and steady amid the nerves. She was so effortless when it came to her passions, her talents. She worked hard and the rest, she just trusted in that hard work, that it wouldn’t be in vain but Shizuka wasn’t quite so free.

   “You ready?” Anzu asked, her voice a whisper.

   “As I’ll ever be.” Shizuka murmured. She so badly wanted to be sick.

   She had woken up this morning feeling like a princess. On top of the world. Now she felt like the pauper, or more accurately, the pauper who should have been inside of a pauper’s grave. She should have rolled over and pretended today was written off, that nothing of import was scheduled to happen.

   Their music started. Shizuka hazarded a smile. Those opening notes were so comforting and familiar. Even if they heralded the beginning of the choreography, there were so many things to remember and opportunities to make a mistake but this was their song. Or one of them, at least. It was light and silvery and reminded Shizuka of her and Anzu’s first night together in New York. It was Christmas and they went sleighing through the snow. Oh, it was magical.

   Holding onto that memory, with Anzu holding her hand through every motion, Shizuka allowed herself to re-enter her very own wedding. She was spun and twirled, dipped to and fro. Anzu took the “masculine” lead so she could show off her more masterful talents at dancing. She had the whole crowd proud with her moves. 

   Anzu looked so gorgeous as she danced a modernised version of the waltz. She was in her element, sparkling beneath her makeup and well coiffed hair. Her footwork was swift and delicate, the tule of her dress bounced in tune with the music and her movements. It was very clearly the happiest moment of her life.

   And for both herself and for Anzu, Shizuka couldn’t be happier and yet.

   She was still detached from it. Eaten away by her worries, merely going through the motions as though she were the doll inside of a ballerine’s jewellery box, turning on a screw. Not that she minded. The dance was simultaneously an eternity and not long enough as the music began to fade out. She had done it. She had survived dancing with Anzu to conclude the official matters of their wedding.

   It was a weight off. Literally. Shizuka’s shoulders no longer felt quite so sloped as Anzu changed how she held her wife around her waist.

   They paused long enough to take a vow. Katsuya’s voice was boisterous over all, he couldn’t be happier for his sister and his now sister-in-law. It embarrassed Shizuka.

   “Thank you muchly.” Anzu announced. “Please, feel free to enjoy more food, the music, let’s party until dawn!” She split into laughter.

   But Shizuka wasn’t.

   And that popped up on Anzu’s radar. Shizuka didn’t know if that was an “oh no” moment or a “finally” moment. Either way she felt guilty as Anzu readjusted herself. The music changed to more upbeat party songs to coax people onto the dancefloor. 

   “Hey, um, is everything okay?” Anzu asked quietly.

   She took Shizuka by her hands again, propping them up on Anzu’s shoulders and Shizuka let it happen. The distance between them, with Shizuka’s elbows locked, made them look like middle schoolers leaving a ruler’s worth between them. It was kind of silly. Especially as, together, they bopped along to a Top 40 favourite from twenty years ago. Shizuka stared at her feet though as they did so as she mulled over Anzu’s question. Anzu waiting patiently, not pressing it as they were in public and if Shizuka was close to a melt down, neither would want that as they were the centre of attention.

   “Well, um, there’s something I wanted to talk to you about.” Shizuka mumbled half way through the song.

   They drew in closer to one another. They were more romantically chest to chest whilst remaining appropriate for a wedding. Shizuka absorbed Anzu’s bodily warmth, deeply breathed in her pretty perfume and sighed.

   “I want a divorce.” Shizuka announced.

   Anzu snorted in disbelief, “What?”

   “Well, um, I’m… I’m worried. What if this isn’t such a good idea?” Shizuka rambled. “Like, this whole. Getting married thing.”

   Anzu’s expression softened. She had been ready to cop this as a joke but she could sense from Shizuka’s melancholy that this was really eating her up. Shizuka appreciated the shift as well. She licked her lips and was mindful of the heavy rhythm of how her heart was pounding in her chest.

   “I just remember being so scared of my father as a child.” Shizuka mumbled. “He was awful to me, to Katsuya-nii, and of course to our mother. He drank all our money away, pushed us around. I have no good memories of my parents’ marriage. I know I was so young and sickly but it was quite formative.”

   “Oh, Shizuka…” Anzu breathed, dripping with sympathy.

   She cuddled Shizuka closer. She rubbed Shizuka’s back and it made her arms twitch. They still danced. They slowed down, their footwork was clumsy and they were out of time with the music. To their friends and family, it looked like they were slow dancing. Not having a heart-to-heart as they whispered amongst themselves.

   “What if you start doing that?” Shizuka murmured, her brows furrowed. “What if you lose your job and blame me?”

   “I would never.” Anzu replied.

   “Do you really think I’m so awful?” Anzu asked, head tilted, trying not to be offended.

   “No, not at all!” Shizuka protested. “I think you're wonderful, the best woman in the world and I’m very fortunate to have you but…” Shizuka’s voice trailed off. Her tone of voice was frantic until it fizzled out. She took a breath. “Or, worse still, what if it's me? What if I wake up and start being horrible to you?”

   “Oh, Shizuka, you would never.” Anzu gasped, more offended at the idea of Shizuka turning abusive than her.

   “How do you know?” Shizuka argued, eyes watering. “What if I start drinking and start pushing you around?”

   “You wo-” Anzu stopped herself in her tracks and Shizuka cringed but looked up at her, studying her. Anzu took a deep breath and she nuzzled against Shizuka’s face.

   Shizuka requited the affection. Anzu’s face was soft but chalky with foundation and other makeup. 

   “You're right.” Anzu told her.

   “Huh?” Shizuka blinked.

   Anzu pulled back and shrugged, “I don’t know what will happen in the future. I don’t know what I’ll be like nor what you’ll be like. Anything can and will happens, I could get hit by a truck tomorrow-”

   “Don’t say that!” Shizuka interrupted.

   “That’s rich,” Anzu laughed, “but you get the point, right?”

   “Right…” Shizuka chewed on her reply.

   “Marriage is hard.” Anzu started again, reiterating. “We’ll probably fight, we’ll probably have really boring days and really busy days. We’ll have good ones and bad ones but we’ll make it work, I promise.”

   Shizuka smiled a small smile. The butterflies in her stomach were back but it felt oddly good. Not great but it was fuzzy and hopeful which was good enough for her to deem it, well, good. 

   “Thanks, Anzu,” Shizuka replied, “that… That I can believe. That we can do it, we can put the hard work in.”

   “I’m glad,” Anzu murmured and she leaned in, “but if there are days which are excruciating, which make you want to throw in the towel, there are steps we can take before we get to a point where… where we hurt ourselves or each other, you hear?”

   “I do.” Shizuka replied.

   She tilted her head up and she kissed Anzu on the lips.

   Her lipstick was glossy. Her breath had the tingle of champagne. Shizuka committed it all to memory and took Anzu’s words here more to heart than their actual vows that had been rehearsed many a time in the bathroom mirror. She kissed back and surrendered herself to the idea that perhaps marriage can be a dream of hers as well.

[porschesbabydaddy]

Somehow a silly little thought abt Babe being an mpreg baby has spiralled into me crafting an AU w biodad!Tony and tragic TonyReval, somebody sedate me

[dollypopup]

colin should 'suffer' for penelope

aka: 5 short reasons why wanting colin to 'suffer' or 'grovel' or whatever other bullshit this fandom keeps pulling is stupid and makes no sense and should have been buried ages ago, how is this still a thing?

1: it sets a terrible and unhealthy dynamic between an endgame couple

especially considering Polin's motif is that of a mirror, if Colin is expected to grovel or suffer for Penelope's affection and forgiveness, it only stands to reason that Penelope then, too, would have to reciprocate. how Penelope treats Colin's ills is setting the precedent for how he's expected to handle her own against him, of which there are many. giving him the cold shoulder, holding what he said over his head and rubbing it in his face, potentially not even explaining why she's upset at him: these are not signs of a mature woman ready for a marriage to ANYONE

2: Colin's slights against Penelope are considerably less harmful than Penelope's against Colin's and it makes no narrative sense for her to be on her high horse about it

'he ruined her prospects' 'he talked about her behind her back' 'he laughed at her' (we don't even know if that one's true, frankly speaking)

but Penelope did the exact same to him and she did so first. Please remember that Penelope is the reason Colin and Marina broke up, and it was her express goal the entire time. Penelope humiliated Colin and Marina both by exposing them publicly (not to mention rubbed the salt into the wound for days afterward). Penelope didn't even think about Colin's feelings because she tried to confess her crush on him immediately after his engagement went poof. Penelope holding Colin accountable for what he said without herself recognizing the ways in which she's hurt him, too, makes her out to be a hella hypocrite

3: it's weirdly catholic on main?

love isn't about suffering points or penance or guilt and i'm tired of Christianity pervading every damn thing. sorry not sorry, some of us want an actually fulfilling love story

4: y'all are just mad Colin didn't love Penelope back from jump and it's a revenge fantasy

which, fine, that's what fanfic is for, but it's OOC, y'all are aware of that, right? because if he DID want her from the start, we all know that it wouldn't be Polin? why are you shipping a friends to lovers ship if you INSIST that the friends to lovers dynamic is less than? guess what? unreciprocated love is kind of part of the deal. you don't hold a grudge against your friend for not loving you back immediately. Colin shows he cares about Penelope in SO MANY WAYS that somehow are completely invalidated because it isn't meant to be romantic? imma say it: fuck you if you think that way. friendships are important and beautiful and deep and fulfilling with or without romance. Colin sticking his neck out for Penelope to help her family from Jack's scheme? an act of love. Colin sending Penelope letters after her father passed? act of love. Colin telling Penelope she's 'really very good' and holding her hand in appreciation of her coming to talk to him? act of love. if you think those acts of love mean nothing just because he isn't fucking her seven ways to sunday, maybe analyze your own viewpoint of relationships and ship Pen w/ some random stranger who makes heart eyes at her tits from jump

5: it makes Penelope an asshole to her own long term partner

dude, if a friend of mine insisted I crawl on hands and knees to determine whether they want me back in their lives, i don't want to be around that person? so many of these narratives make Penelope a straight up terrible person. if you want your partner to suffer? you probably don't actually like them very much, but Polin is narratively MEANT to be the couple that likes AND loves one another. be real, if your friend ghosted you for months, gave you the cold shoulder when you tried to talk again, treated you like shit (you can't argue that him 'suffering' isn't treating him like shit in some way shape or form) as you tried to apologize, and then you find out that she was the reason you and your ex broke up and she wrote straight up nasty things about your family for YEARS, you would want absolutely nothing to do with that friend. why should Colin be expected to be any different? do these two not deserve a lovely love story built on love and affection and trust and honesty? a healthy happy relationship in which they see one another and appreciate one another for all they are? no? so why do you ship them?

+1: it's oversaturated in this fandom

polin is a fantastic ship. how is THIS their main trope?

find a new fucking idea, PLEASE

[its-tea-time-darling]

look at this guys... the world is a dark place

[yugioh-rare-pair-poll]

Round 2: Poll 3

Propaganda under the cut

Pairing 1: Pompshipping (Miho Nosaka/Seto Kaiba)

Propaganda: HEAR ME OUT. Miho has blue-ish white long hair. Kisara has blue-ish white long hair. Yugioh DM is NOTORIOUS for having long-dead characters have mysterious modern day dopplegangers (that’s the whole plot!!!) so why not like this? Miho is a gold digger who’s on the lookout for her perfect prince. Kaiba fills that role perfectly: young, rich, successful, handsome— what’s not to love? She latches onto him and they are both confronted with the fact that they’re both terrible people actually, and somewhere in there, real feelings sprout and they have to struggle to navigate it

Pairing 2: Sideshipping (Anzu Mazaki| Tea Gardener/Shizuka Kawaii|Serenity Wheeler)

Propaganda: I love their friendship so much & wish we got to see more of it in the show. The episode where they go out together is super sweet, and it’s probably my fave wlw ship in dm. Sadly it’s shonen so none of the girls spend much time together onscreen but I think it’d be funny if Shizuka went for Anzu instead of Honda or Ryuji because love wins.

Now, let’s keep things civil. This is a silly poll where we can share why we love our overlooked ships. There’s no need to be nasty to prove your point. Bashers will be banished to the Shadow Realm.

[cloudslexapro]

happy pride!!!! help yourself to some spicy anzu x serenity over at my patreon!

[hiorintruther]

Kunigiri being that sideship in all the bllk fics on AO3 is causing me physical pain 😭

If they aren’t the main pair and don’t feature prominently in the fic then don’t tag them under relationships!!! I wanna read Kunigiri fics rn not Bachisagi/Reonagi/Rinsagi/Nagisagi etc… fics with a side of Kunigiri

[fallloverfic]

Rating: Explicit

Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply

Category: M/M

Fandom: Castlevania: Nocturne (Cartoon)

Relationship: Alucard/Olrox

Summary: When Adrian hears about Erzsebet Bathory reaching out to a powerful vampire for aid, Adrian sends his own invitation to the man. Olrox is intrigued, and he and Adrian get along rather well.

Too much conversation (3,940 words, complete)

[sanguineerose]

no but the reason this pisses me off so much is because jegulus is easily one of the most popular ships already. there are so many fics and fanarts and edits but instead of focusing on these, some shippers go out to comment on stories that have nothing to do with jegulus. and don’t even get me started on crosstagging :)))))

[le-trash-prince]

Kim/Kenta

[onthevirgeofdestruction]

Words: 3,082 Warnings: Night Brain™ (Self-Depreciating Thoughts), Insomnia Characters: Virgil, Janus Ships: Anxceit, but it's ambiguous Genre: Hurt/Comfort Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Human, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders-centric, Self-Care Snek Janus, there was only one bed! actually not the trope but that is still true, placed in like probably a mid-point of enemies to lovers

   Virgil rolled over and glanced at the digital display of the clock, sick of staring at the ceiling. 2:42 am lit up the room in a daunting red glow in a painful affront to all of his efforts to sleep tonight. He ate dinner on time. He turned down all the lights with the sun. He tried to meditate (with questionable success; he wondered when the last time he cleaned the carpet was and if he had bills due more than he was mindful of the moment) and went to bed early in a dark, cool room. Virgil did everything right, and he was still here, having a staring contest with his alarm clock.

   It was basically inevitable, and all the effort was meaningless. If it was that easy, then why hadn’t it ever worked before? Adding or changing some steps to the ritual wouldn’t change a lifetime of being eaten alive slowly by insomnia. Everything was futile, and Virgil just needed to accept that things were always out of his control and that no good ever comes his way. More cruel proof that all his efforts were always in vain, and he’d never achieve the few precious hopes and dreams that Virgil quietly kept for himself. Like the fervent wish that Janus’s caring advice would finally let him steal some sleep from the sandman that betrayed every night. The equivalence of sheer force of will and the prayers of a friend somehow changing a mountain into the sea. A stupid thought on every level.

   Fuck. Virgil rubbed his face bitterly, clenching up all his muscles in frustration. Night brain was getting to him. There were good things in the world, even if Virgil couldn’t see them in the dim light of the alarm clock. His dreams aren’t dead because 10 pm bedtimes just aren’t on the table for him right now. He still needed to figure out the insomnia problem, though. No matter how hard he researched solutions, he remained lost on how to make them work for him. He just had to wade through the muck of his horrible, bogged down brain to figure out what he needed to do.

   He might have to cancel tomorrow's plans, as much as he hated to do that to Janus. With how intensely their relationship fluctuated, setting them back further by flaking on him felt like shooting himself in both feet. But if he was in someone else’s position, he’d like the heads-up if someone may change the plans or cancel. Virgil twisted to sit up on the edge of his bed and reached for his phone, tapping it out of airplane mode and tugging it off the charger to warn him before he forgot. He texted Janus to let him know he would stay an exhausted mess tomorrow, and that Janus was nice to try, even if it didn’t work. As much as he’d love to just call him a name and throw his phone against the wall, that wasn’t fucking working for him, and he needed to be nicer like Janus was trying to.

   Even if the ideas didn’t work and the ever-encroaching devil’s hour was pissing him off, he honestly appreciated Janus’s suggestions. Virgil was used to being told that he wasn’t trying hard enough, or that he should just solve it with coffee like everyone else. At least it wasn’t a lack of effort on Virgil’s part, if even all of Janus’s suggestions didn’t help him sleep. There was some odd comfort in that. He genuinely would have loved to get back to Janus with the proud beam of someone who got eight hours of sleep. Well, if he figured something else out, maybe he could still fall asleep before 4 am and keep hanging on by a thread like he often is.

   Virgil started up the streaming video app to pick something low-key and boring enough to kill his last few awake brain cells. Even if it didn’t get him to sleep, it would be nice just to distract the damn night brain for a little while before he ends up on that ‘failure’ tangent again over the insomnia… or even just something to focus on since his tired brain kept wandering down haunted paths. But before Virgil could pick a video to drown out his thoughts, he received a text alert. Janus responded to the warning Virgil sent, even though Janus should have been asleep right now and not answering. Virgil glanced at the clock again, the unholy hour leaving a foul taste in his mouth.

   ‘Who cares?’ was the text he received from Janus. Virgil frowned and pursed his lips at that response. Didn’t Janus care when he suggested all that stuff to try? Or was this all some very elaborate and confusing prank? Was it a joke? He was too tired to figure this out. He thought it was an earnest attempt to help. Maybe it was just more lines and lies, though. It was hard to tell with Janus.

   ‘You cared yesterday,’ Virgil texted back. Janus was the one who basically demanded he go to bed early when Virgil mentioned how little sleep he’d been getting. Janus even brought up the subject by pointing out how tired Virgil looked in an insult. It’s not like Virgil was just dropping hints at the guy in hopes of help. It was Janus who sent him a list of things to try unprompted.

   ‘I have every right not to care as the person you woke up at nearly three in the morning,’ Janus responded to the text. Virgil bristled as read the words on the darkened screen, his brain conjuring up the harsh, catty tone that Janus used to talk shit about someone. Damnit, he didn’t mean to wake up Janus. He was just giving Janus a heads-up as he remembered to do so. He didn’t think he would have remembered later because of the original issue. Insomnia. How fucking cyclical.

   ‘It’s your fault for not using sleep mode, stupid,’ Virgil sent back defensively, but he knew he should have just texted later or not brought it up at all. He should have just hid the fact that he hadn’t been sleeping. Then Janus would still be asleep and Virgil wouldn’t be panicking in the middle of the night about messing up his relationship with Janus, which was often tenuous at best. Virgil had been trying, but considering that was also a word that Janus used to describe Virgil, it probably wasn’t doing that well. He would ruin this relationship like he did with all the others. Oh, goddamnit, there goes night brain again.

   ‘I would have been fine if you fell asleep on time and hadn’t texted me at 2:44 am,’ Janus texted, and Virgil’s brain just was making Janus sound angrier. It didn’t help that it echoed the sentiment that night brain was touting as a personal failure. Virgil pouted and flopped back on the bed, holding the phone above his head to text back. Janus wasn’t wrong, and Virgil kind of threw Janus’s consideration back in his face by failing to fall asleep and messaging him about it. Ugh. Night brain aside, he really didn’t need to bother Janus with this. He’s dealt with it alone almost his whole life.

   ‘Sorry,’ Virgil apologized sheepishly and rubbed his face. He knew he could catastrophize about relationships. He knew the later it got, the more harsh his brain could be, too. It didn’t make Virgil feel any better about any of that interaction. It all seemed so bad, and he just needed to learn to keep his mouth shut, but he didn’t know how. He was so fucking tired all the time. Being tired makes you struggle with judgment and sense. Ergo, Virgil was always stupid. Maybe even Janus was stupid by extension for willingly spending time with the chronically sleepless Virgil, who even knew anymore. He only knew he needed to stop bothering Janus and try to sleep. The glowing clock’s non-stop march forward told him this wasn’t the time and reminded him he should just have been asleep to avoid all this shit.

   Janus hadn’t responded to his apology, so Virgil switched back to the video app. He would try to make it up to Janus tomorrow somehow. Maybe he could get them both espresso or something like that. There really wasn’t any way to solve sleep deprivation, though, and he owed Janus more than he could physically even pay. Virgil knew how deep that debt could eat at your heart and soul more than anyone else. Janus didn’t have to forgive him, but Virgil still had to at least try to be better about not waking up friends in the middle of the night, even if it was an accident. Next time, he can just write himself a sticky note. It would be a good habit to build just to cope with the brain fog of chronic insomnia.

   Virgil found some videos reviewing bad books, and those were relatively interesting without getting invested enough in the content to turn on his brain, so he watched a few reviews. It didn’t seem to be to any avail, though, other than mildly quieting the night brain from going on mean tangents. He did wonder how the hell said books ever got published and felt bad for the readers, but considering the contents of the books, that was probably a normal reaction and not a late-night horror fun house ringing throughout his skull. Virgil checked the clock on his phone screen compulsively, and the time made him grimace. He wasn’t any more drowsy than he was before, so that failed. The human capacity to be exhausted without being sleepy is offensive to think about. Time to drown out his brain in random content again, then.

   He scanned for a different genre of videos that he could doze to with half-open eyes, but only ended up jumping at a loud thudding, the knock at his front door carried through his apartment causing a phone to land on his face in surprise. Virgil scrambled to grab the phone he dropped, looking around his room for something to defend himself with. No matter where his eyes jumped, he found nothing he could use to even bludgeon anyone with. Not that it would help against something like a gun. Maybe he was just going to die tonight.

   The tiny ounce of sense that Virgil could have called his own was smothered to death by the haze of fear overtaking his brain as his breath came in sharply. ‘If I don’t show up tomorrow, I’ve been axe murdered by a late-night visitor. Tell your snake I love her,’ he messaged off his epitaph to Janus, sitting up on the bed.

   He wasn’t sure if he should ignore it or see who it was. What if it was an emergency? What if someone needed help? What if it was the police? Should he even open it, then? Would it be worse if he pretended he wasn’t home? Would someone try to rob him if they thought his apartment was empty? What if it was someone out to hurt him? What if it was a trap? Were they going to be mad at how long it’s taking Virgil to answer? Maybe if he doesn’t answer it, he’s going to regret it for the rest of his life. What if they break in, anyway? What if—

   ‘Open the door,’ Janus texted him, shaking Virgil from freaking out about the sudden visitor’s intentions. What? Was Janus joking, or trying to get him offed?

   ‘Are you trying to get me serial-killed for waking you up?’ Virgil replied, and he intended it as a joke, but it was also the exact thing he was terrified of occurring. Nothing good happens this late at night. There was no way that the statistics for opening a door this late at night favoured him for survival.

   ‘It’s cold out here. Open the damn door,’ Janus sent another text, and Virgil jumped up from the bed right away and rushed to the front door, absolutely blindsided by the implications. Even the chance, even the tiny possibility. If it was Janus, he would open the door. That shook all his fears about the situation from the etch-a-sketch of his brain into harmlessly scattered grains of concern, leaving him breathless and bewildered.

   Virgil flung open the door, and there was Janus in all of his pyjama-clad glory, looking fatigued, chilly, and perturbed. Janus pushed Virgil aside and stepped in, and Virgil locked up behind him in pure confusion, though he felt himself grinning like an idiot despite himself. Janus was here! Did Virgil fall asleep after all, and he was currently in a rare pleasant dream? Janus’s nightwear was certainly the stuff of dreams, it was hard to believe he even owned such classy sleepwear.

   “What are you doing here?” Virgil asked quietly (as if to not startle himself awake, or perhaps because Janus looked half-asleep himself. He couldn’t speak for his own motivations, he could barely even speak) while Janus yawned, covering his mouth as his jaw unhinged. A little tear beaded on Janus’s eye that he blinked away, looking at Virgil directly with an intense expression as soon as he closed his mouth.

   Janus didn’t reply and simply grabbed Virgil’s hand to drag him back into the bedroom. Virgil could only follow along with (dream?) Janus’s whims, feeling dumbfounded as Janus pulled Virgil along. Then Janus unceremoniously shoved him into the bed, Virgil’s knees buckling at the edge and catching himself on his hands to continue to stare up at Janus in shock. Janus only raised an eyebrow, leaning his weight on one foot as he glowered at Virgil’s lost face.

   “Get in,” Janus demanded, flipping his hand at Virgil to shoo him into the bedsheets. Virgil furrowed his eyebrows, but crawled in and sandwiched himself between the blankets, anyway. He didn’t know what Janus was getting at, but it was better to just listen than deal with Janus’s tired wrath. Janus kicked off his shoes and climbed in bed next to him with another small yawn, tugging Virgil in and holding him to his chest under the covers. Virgil’s face heated as Janus forcefully nestled Virgil closely against himself and shifted to get comfortable in Virgil’s bed.

   “What—” Virgil tried to start, his voice muffled against Janus’s firm chest.

   “Sh. Just lie still and breathe deeply, and I will get you to sleep whether you like it or not,” Janus explained flatly, holding Virgil close and squeezing with mild pressure, the soft interaction melting away Virgil’s concerns in favour of focusing on the feel of Janus’s slender fingers without the gloves against his skin. Virgil wasn’t surprised his hands were cold. There was something soothing about that, even. It was almost as if the gentle chill of Janus’s hands quenched the leftover dread that burned through his mind unbidden and gave him space to breathe.

   Virgil took a deep breath and let it out slowly, closing his eyes. Janus warmed up from the night's chill beneath the sheets and Virgil’s remnant adrenal heat, making this moment more comfortable than Virgil could have dreamed. Virgil hadn’t shared his bed in a long time, and he thought he didn’t miss it, but it seemed at least a small, traitorous part of him clearly still did from the unwelcome relief that slowly filled his body. He doesn't like how much Janus just being here changed how he felt, even though it satisfied him beyond words. The warmth between them, the soft covers, the considerate cuddle, and Janus’s gentle heart beat and steady rise and fall of his chest all coaxed him down as he breathed slowly and stayed still as asked. Virgil’s thoughts had trouble wandering with Janus right there. His brain was too busy fluctuating on Janus’s very existence, as well as the fact that he showed up out of nowhere to snuggle Virgil to sleep. He had to be already dreaming, right?

   Janus rolled over and rearranged Virgil into being the little spoon, arms wrapping around Virgil and sliding his head onto Virgil’s shoulder. A few soft, warm breaths sent dancing across Virgil’s skin before Janus dropped his head to the pillows behind Virgil, Janus's breath now lightly jostling the hairs of Virgil’s bed head. Janus reached around to have Virgil hold on to a spare pillow and tucked him properly into the covers before snuggling tight, the even spread of pressure across Virgil’s back reminding him that Janus was here even though Virgil could no longer see him. Virgil couldn’t believe this moment was real, and he didn’t want to stop to consider it and ruin the moment. He wanted to be here in Janus’s arms, not even letting the fear of waking stay in his forethought for long.

   The moments of soft breathing calmed the last of the fear in Virgil’s heart, loosening the knot in his stomach and the tightness in his throat. Virgil felt relaxation wash over him in places he didn’t know could even loosen, unwinding him down to the core. Janus’s arms slackened slightly, and Virgil could feel him slip off to sleep behind him, dragging Virgil down farther along with him. The dreamlike quality of the moment grew, the lines of reality becoming blurry, and the light of the alarm clock faded into an unreadable glow instead of a harsh reminder of the waking reality.

   The request was so simple it was offensive that it worked, but the mantra and the soft embrace warded off all thoughts. Just breathe deep and lie still. That’s all he had to do. Janus was here. He’d know if Virgil gave up, so he had to keep going. And he wasn’t alone. He didn’t screw up with Janus, and he was safe. It didn’t matter if it was a dream or not, because both options were so wonderful, he would stay in either forever.

   Time unwound and lost all meaning together in the soft sheets. He didn’t count the breaths. The clock’s horrible march forward, lost to the details, quickly blurring out. There was only Janus’s breath and his, entwining together in the dark room. The last dregs of Virgil’s waking mind faded to nothing, and there was nothing but warmth in the last moments of Virgil’s awareness as he drifted off to sleep.

[totentnz]

😏😏😏 lovin this guy