#ah also i agree with Elliott

[studentinpursuitofclouds]

hii! I have a silly req ^.^

bachelors reacting to a farmer rejecting their dance proposal at the flower dance? but then saying it's a joke/prank !!

just farmer doing that out of spite, still holding that grudge from the first year teehee

Sure, dear anon ❤️ Enjoy!

SDV bachelors reacting to a Farmer rejecting their dance proposal, then saying it's a joke:

Sam:

"W- what?..."

After rejection, Sam's eyes filled with sadness - he looks like a puppy that's been kicked.

But then laugh when Farmer tells him it was a joke.

"You had me in the first half, not gonna lie."

Takes a mean joke quite well. "I'm a prankster myself."

There's gonna be a little residue from that rejection.

But Sam will forget all about it when he dances with Farmer!

Shane:

"... Am I a fucking joke to you?" The prank clearly didn't appeal to him.

Shane remembers not being too polite to Farmer earlier, but still...

Farmer hastily apologised to Shane. Lucky for them, he doesn't hold a grudge.

What's interesting is that Shane apologised too, for the rude rejection last year.

The two made up and went dancing, but Shane warned that one more "joke" like that and he'd dunk Farmer's head in the punch.

(He won't do that, but Farmer doesn't need to know that).

Elliott:

Elliott's smile evaporated instantly after the rejection. But then Farmer told him it was a prank.

"Ah, it was a joke, right? Hmm." The writer goes to great lengths to not look awkward.

"It's a bit of a tasteless joke, don't you think?"

Will ask not to joke like that. Also will be very surprised that it was a little revenge for a "past rejection".

"Apologize, my friend, for tactlessness on my part last year. I did not mean to offend you in any way."

Neither Elliott nor Farmer holds a grudge, and the dance turned out to be exciting and energetic.

Sebastian:

"You'll let me know when to laugh." Uh-oh, he's not amused at all...

Sebastian finally musters up the courage to ask Farmer to dance, and they're laughing at him?

Sebby pouts like a toad. "Forget what I said." Farmer needs to apologize right away.

They're lucky that Sebby will forgive them easily.

"Also sorry if I was rude to you before too. I just didn't know you well then."

The dance with Farmer was cool, even if Sebastian doesn't like dancing so much.

Alex:

"Prank? You think that's funny, huh? Not at all! Do you know how frustrating it is to get that kind of rejection right in the face?"

*Flashback to a year ago at the Flower festival* "Oh, right..."

Well, the Farmer got their revenge, Alex deserved it. Happy now?

Hold on, the Farmer still wants to dance with him? Yes!

*Ahem* Allright, the athlete forgives them their stupid joke, he's being kind today.

(And the Farmer was fun to dance with!).

Harvey:

Harvey wilted in such a way that Farmer thought he was going to cry.

"Wait wait wait! Harvey, it was just a prank!" A prank, he thought. For what? That's pretty tactless and rude.

Revenge for "last time"? He... Did he hurt them in any way?

Now Harvey's upset and confused. Congrats, Farmer.

Apologize to the doctor right now!

And they should thank Yoba that Harvey forgave them right away and even agreed to dance with them.

[thecarnivorousmuffinmeta]

... What if Walter became a vampire?

Actually, now that I think about it, that would be very bad for everyone involved. Like Mike said, the man is a time bomb and you don't want to be around for the boom.

Somehow, I can imagine Walter ends up destroying the Volturi and dooming humanity after a full season of thinking Aro is going to kill him any second.

The thing is, Walter White probably wouldn't run into the Volturi and he wouldn't really be able to conceptualize them as powerful people or people he wants to be (e.g. Gus). To him they'd be nutjobs who go around killing vampires and insist on them all being secret.

Walter agrees he shouldn't be near people as he ah tends to eat them but... well...

But to back up a bit, let's turn Walt into a vampire.

Walter White's Problems Go Sideways

We'll say that Walt has already started. He's learned he has lung cancer, he's found Jesse, he's killed Crazy Eight in his basement and had to do the cleanup, and things are not going great but meth is being made.

Then he gets eaten by a vampire.

Only, the vampire doesn't get very far because Walter and his radiated lung cancer tastes like shit (canonically, illnesses, substance abuse, etc. can seriously fuck with your taste). They scamper off, not having intended on turning cancer ridden Walter White, and Walter is left... very confused.

His skin is some strange carbon substance that under a microscope looks eeriely close to diamond. He's breaking everything he touches and uh... he ate a guy in a Walmart parking lot.

Walt desperately runs out into the desert and is terrified of going home a) looking like this b) having eaten someone. Something has gone very very very wrong with him and he doesn't think it's the cancer.

Then Walter realizes it doesn't matter.

He's dying anyway and he must provide for his family.

Walt puts on a hazmat suit he stole from a lab (as he now has no fingerprints), which helps with the um people smell that keeps driving him mad, and spends an episode bullying Jesse into helping him fake his death.

(Walter ends up eating another poor person and, not knowing what else to do, they shove the man in Walter's car then light it on fire. Walter White has now died in an awful awful car explosion.)

There's a very sad funeral that Walter attends from the shadows. Gretchen and Elliott show up, Hank gives a eulogy on how Walt was kind of a nerd, Walt hates it so much.

Jesse's asking what the fuck is going on, he's seen lung cancer and that ain't no stage he's ever heard of bitch, and Walter (who doesn't know the answer either) blows him off and tells Jesse he's stupid. They also have a lot of meth to make. Find a new Crazy Eight.

"You killed Crazy Eight," Jesse points out.

Yeah, well, let's get a new one.

So, Jesse regretfully goes to talk to Tuco. This goes poorly. Walt then has to go confront Tuco himself (which is um... bad news...) and ends up eating both Tuco and all of his people.

Walter decides not to tell Jesse this.

"I took care of Tuco" he says instead, having rescued their meth (and cash from Tuco's safe).

Jesse's impressed and a little disturbed, he has no idea how to answer this.

(Hank, meanwhile, thinks drug lords have reached a new low. Someone set their pet dog/bear/something on Tuco Salamanca and ate his entire face. Just. Wow. What a way to go. Hank is celebratory but even he's grossed out by this one.)

Well, Jesse and Walt (now always in a hazmat suit, by the way) are back to square one. They have a whole lotta meth and no one to sell it to.

Walt, slowly getting over his existential horror of being a cannibal, suggests that they sell it on the street. Jesse points out that's mad, the gangs control distribution, if they try to get in on that, massively, they are fucked.

"I can take care of it," Walter promises, having at this point tested out his new, invulnerable, ridiculously strong body.

Walter is easily able to steal them more and better supplies (moving faster than cameras can trace, leaving no prints, etc. And takes out anyone who even thinks at looking at Badger or whoever funny.

(Hank, meanwhile, is seeing a pattern of someone setting their bear loose on every one of Salamanca's men. They've got a gang war going on. Fuck.)

Gus is also noticing and keeps Gale well off the street and asks Mike to look into this.

Mike finds himself very confused. These are low level punks, local kids who dropped out of school and destroyed their lives with meth, but they're not gangsters. They clearly have no idea what they're doing and no muscle.

So who keeps killing everybody?

Unfortunately for Walter, the Volturi are also starting to take notice, as this is a lot of people dead in Albuquerque from rogue cocaine bears. Oddly focused on the human drug trade, but the signs are unmistakable. Aro sends Demetri and Felix off to deal with it.

Sure enough, they catch Walter's scent and ah...

The show's suddenly over when two cosplayers take Walter (in his hazmat suit) out in an alley.

[that-one-weeb-buts-its-the-main]

Mirage-

Just mirage p l e a s e

The lore has been so mean to him lately I just wanna kiss Elliot Witt on his stoopid little face-

Simple ask just soft GN cuddles with pretty boy

He deserves it 🥺

Alone for Just a Moment | Elliott "Mirage" Witt

✧▬ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ▬✧

Reader: Gender Netural| they/them | Romantic

A/N: YOOO I have a cuz named chase. anyways. I also love your profile picture., also I'm assuming GN means gender-neutral instead of Good Night

Warnings: Bloodhound and Fuse cannot keep it in there pants,

✧▬ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ▬✧

"No!"

"yes! Y/n I am telling you!" Loba spoke.

Y/n and Loba laughing over dinner at the mess hall.

"And don't get me started on the nails, please," She complained, "I should just have the nail tech live with me at this point."

Y/n chuckled, "What about my nails-"

"Please, don't start ruining them with acrylics." She took Y/n's hand into hers, "You know, I wouldn't mind seeing dark green on you, you know green that looks black but in the sun looks like...a velvet green!"

"Ooo! That sounds cool!"

"When will they stop talking." Mirage rolled his eyes.

"Aye! if you're bothered by it, go take your babe back!" Walter tried to persuade, "Aint that right Houndy? Like when I take ya back?"

"Walter!" Bloodhound argued, an unmistakable tone of embarrassment to their voice, "...continue."

"Oh, I will."

Mirage groaned.

"Don't worry Elliott!" Wattson tried to cheer, "I'm sure Y/n will come around soon!"

"Tea, the day has been long," Crypto spoke, setting the tea in front of Wattson.

"Thank you!" She cheered with a smile, grabbing Crytpo's hands to tug him to sit down, "Sit sit!"

He did only on account of her, Wattson giving him the biggest love-pounding heart-stopping smile.

"You are beautiful."

"Tae Joon!" She was flustered, it easy to spot as her face became red..

"You may try and run Houndy, but I will always find my way back to you."

"Walter- Please!" Bloodhound laughed.

"Just like the cherry blossoms." Crypto smiled, "I'll take you to see them."

"Really!" Wattson cheered, eyes lighting up, "I'd love that!"

"Anything for you."

"fact, why don't you treat ol' Fitzroy to the money maker." Walter purred.

"You will have to wait my love." Bloodhound protested playfully, "There are people present."

"Never stopped me before, plus dinners gettin' cold anyway, there are far better things to be eating, don't ya agree?"

Mirage tried to cut in unbelievable to what was happening in front of him.

"I know of a crepe place along the way," Crypto spoke.

"Let's go now!"

"But dinner-"

"Why eat when there are sweets to be had!" Wattson cheered getting up and pulling Crypto off with a jump in her step.

"Guys!"

"I suppose there are better things to be fed." Bloodhound purred.

"I like the sound of that!" Fuse spoke.

"hey wait- what-"

Fuse happily pulled Bloodhound along.

"Hello?" Mirage asked still getting no answer.

Fall sucked. Everybody falls in love, off doing...other lovely dovey things, and he was alone, watching the love of his life being talked up by Loba: she knew everything to say, and how to say it. He wouldn't be surprised if he was soon falling out of his relationship anytime soon.

He felt, alone, both mentally and physically.

His eyes were covered, "Guess who it is?" They smiled.

"Uh..." He spoke in thought, a signature smile on his face, "I don't know! Honestly!"

"it's me." Y/n teased, their arms wrapping around Elliot's neck.

"That was my next guess!" He defended, Y/n chuckling into his neck.

"what are you doing here all alone?"

"ah, ya know!" He spoke, "Takin' in the sights."

"Ah yes, the mess hall is quite beautiful." Y/n teased kissing Mirage's cheek, "I'm off for now."

"uh, where?" Mirage asked, leaning up to look up at them, "if, you don't mind me asking."

"Loba wanted to show me some nail stuff." Y/n answered, "And Obi asked to see me."

"Oh! Yeah! Yeah!" Mirage smiled, and Y/n cocked an eyebrow.

"your hiding something," Y/n commented.

"No, not at all. Do I need to hide anything? I don't need to hide anything, not from you-"

"and your rambling, someone's either upset, nervous, or over-excited." Y/n spoke, taking a seat next to Mirage, "What's wrong now? Unless you're overly excited for breakfast tomorrow?"

Mirage chuckled, "no."

Y/n frowned, reaching out to hold Mirage's hand, "Go ahead, tell me."

Mirage moved his hand, Y/n frowning, "Mirage."

He was silent as he played with his food, "Elliot..."

Y/n's hand reached out, caressing Mirage's cheek, Mirage's head turned without a fight, his eyes still lowered, avoiding eye contact.

"Elliot, please, look at me, tell me what's wrong," Y/n protested, "lets fix it, together; like we always do."

"Are...we good for each other?" Elliott asked.

Y/n was shocked, what kind of question was that?

"I think we're perfect." Y/n spoke up, "Not even death could keep me away from you..."

He smiled softly, leaning into's Y/n's touch, Y/n smiling softly as they ran their fingers along Elliott's cheekbone feeling a small cut.

"Odd," Y/n spoke softly.

"What?" Elliott asked.

Y/n stifled a soft chuckle, gliding over another mark, "So many flaws, makes up perfection."

Elliott looked up, his gaze catching Y/n's white rose eyes, they soft and full of love as he looked at Y/n.

"Come on," Y/n spoke standing up hand out to Elliott who took it with a smile.

Y/n led Elliott to their room, it is not uncommon for Elliott to stay the night in Y/n's room.

"Let's turn in early for the night." Y/n told him, "I think we both deserve that."

It was easy, getting undressed for bed, they help one another out of their clothes which ended up on the floor, Y/n pulling Elliott in for a playful kiss which sent them accidentally into the bed, the two laughing happily.

"You are not wearing this to bed." Y/n protested, taking the goggles off Elliott's head.

"Always ready for action."

Y/n rolled their eyes playfully, hanging the goggles on the bedpost, and settling back down into their side of the bed.

Elliott closed the gap between them head laying on Y/n's chest, listening to his lover's heartbeat.

"get some sleep babe," Y/n spoke softly, Elliott humming in response.

"I love you."

Y/n smiled, "I love you too."

[starlitangels]

OOO!!! Could we get a happy Elliot and Sunshine microfic?! I miss them being happy 🥲

They were together for a year and a half before Brachium reached out and asked for help and we barely got to see any of that Erik please give me more of my sunshine dream babies being happy together before everything went to Hell in a Handbasket please I beg

Sure!

—

Elliott inhaled deeply and sighed, smiling. "God, I love summer," he said. "People give it a lot of grief for being hot because it's so hard to cool down but you really can't beat bright sunlight and longer days." He leaned back on his hands, basking. "And before you go and call me an anthropomorphic houseplant: that's my joke, sunshine."

I laughed. "I wasn't going to say anything," I said, putting my hands up as though surrendering.

Elliott leaned over, playfully grinning as he leaned his head against my arm. I wrapped my arms around him.

"Thank you, baby, for letting us do this for date night."

I raked my fingers through his dirty-blond curls, knocking his grey beanie off his head. "You say that like I'm some controlling tyrant," I said.

"Well, I mean... it was your turn to pick but you let me do what I wanted."

I shrugged. "If someone makes you happy, you try to make them happier. I knew you needed this." I kissed his soft hair and dropped my voice to a whisper, "And now I get to pick two weeks in a row too."

Elliott burst into laughter, sitting up as he did so. "Ah-ha-ha! I see your ulterior motives!" he said playfully, moving to tickle-attack me. I grabbed his hands before he could make his assault on my neck and sides and shoved away from me.

"Oh no you don't!" I exclaimed. "No tickling!"

"Oh come onnn, sunshine! It's a dream—it doesn't count!" he teased sarcastically. We both knew that was a lie.

"Just because it's a dream doesn't mean the tickles don't feel real, you jerk!" I retorted.

The sun shone brighter and warmer with Elliott's laughter. "Fine, fine, fine," he said. "Peace treaty signed. I won't tickle. For now."

I narrowed my eyes suspiciously but released his hands. "Good. I take no responsibility for the injuries you sustain from tickling me. It's your fault I thrash around."

Elliott just grinned. "You make a good point," he said.

I leaned closer and puckered my lips. "Of course I do. I'm your partner—I'm always right," I said.

He snorted and met me in the middle for a kiss. I pushed my fingers into his hair and drew him close to me, pulling his head. He scooted over the blanket until our legs pressed together. I let his hands roam, sliding around my body and hooking around one of my legs, pulling me until I was straddling his lap.

He withdrew from the kiss just enough to look up at me. "Perfect view," he breathed. "The sunlight behind you making you glow. My incredible sunshine."

I chuckled. "I think I have the perfect view," I said. "Because I have my best friend and the love of my life right where I want him." I wound his curls through my hair and tugged gently at the roots. Elliott's eyes rolled back and his eyelids fluttered. He released a little sigh.

"Oh God, sunshine," he breathed. "How do you always get to me so easily?"

Grinning, I twirled a curl around my thumb. "I know all your spots. I pay attention," I replied in a whisper.

"Mm. Yeah," he agreed.

His eyelids fluttered again. His violet eyes fighting not to roll back.

"I love you," he whispered.

"I love you too, El. I'm so lucky to have you."

"I think I'm the lucky one, sunshine." He dug his fingers into the small of my back. "Because I also know all of your spots."

I ducked down to kiss him—hard. "Good thing this is a dream and there's no one here to perv on us," I whispered. "Because I don't plan on keeping my hands to myself."

"Mm. Only if I don't have to either."

"Please, Eli. I'm all yours."

He kissed me again. "Not a bad date night. Summer sun and warmth in the middle of winter."

"Perks of dating a Dreamwalker," I remarked.

He laughed and slid his hands under my shirt. "Come here, sunshine."

[wren-kitchens]

Chapter Five

Rowan stayed at Immanis for two days after the fight with the drakon. They didn't want to, but every time they tried to teleport away, black spots danced in front of their eyes and they had to return to the Crystal.

Elliott was worried about them. Not about their powers, but about their health. It kept saying that there had to be something, or even someone who had done it. Nothing like that had ever happened to Rowan before.

And there was the issue of Cyrus.

Rowan wasn't entirely sure what Cyrus thought of them, especially after their breakdown in front of him. Elliott had told them that Cyrus was irritated about how Rowan hid their emotions, but it was probably lying. Cyrus didn't care about him.

Not that he cared about Cyrus.

-

"Are you sure it's a good idea to teleport?" Elliott said on the evening of the second day.

"I've been here for two days already." Rowan said, leaning against the crystal for support, which, admittedly, was disproving his point. "I can't stay here forever, I have the Overgrown to rule."

"You literally cannot stand on your own." It deadpanned. "You can stay for a little while longer. People have heard about the drakon, and-"

"And they'll think I'm weak if I don't return soon." Rowan interrupted.

"And," Elliott continued pointedly. "they're worried about you. More specifically, what could have hurt you so much because of how powerful you are."

Rowan paused.

"I've seen so many people saying that they're worried about your health and that you don't owe them anything until you're better." Elliott said, taking advantage of Rowan's silence. "So you stay here until you're up to anything."

"Leo, I can't-"

"I am not asking you." Elliott said firmly. "You will stay here."

Rowan saw the look in its eyes and knew there was no point in arguing. He sighed, slumping back to the ground. "Fine."

"Also Cyrus wants to check on you." Elliott said.

"What?” Rowan’s head spun, recalibrating. "He- why?"

"He's worried about you." Elliott said, like it was obvious. Maybe it should have been. "He was the only one to actually see you pass out, and he saw that there was nothing behind you."

"I don't even know what happened." Rowan said. "I don't know what the cold was, I don't know why I passed out. Hell, I don't even know what happened to the drakon."

"Well, do you need to?" Elliott said.

Rowan looked up. "What do you mean?"

"Well, yes, you probably need to figure it out eventually." Elliott shrugged. "But for the time being, you just need to focus on getting better."

"I suppose." Rowan said, unconvinced.

"You're impossible." Elliott muttered, grinning slightly. "Go to sleep."

"Don't wanna." Rowan said, grinning back.

"Go to sleep, dickhead." Elliott chuckled and teleported away.

Rowan took off his cloak and draped it over himself, lying down on the wooden floor. It wasn't as uncomfortable as it looked, and they soon found themself drifting off.

—-

Rowan opened his eyes, and found himself in a massive room. The ceilings were so high and the walls so wide, it made him dizzy to look around. There was a strange booming sound, getting slightly louder each second.

Some instinct made Rowan run into the corner, where there was a pillar with a gap big enough for him to hide behind. The booming was getting even louder, and Rowan was starting to fear it was footsteps.

"Venenatus." A voice said, even louder than the booming. It sounded like waves smashing against an oceanside cliff, amplified a thousand times. A god's voice.

"Ah, sister!" Another voice exclaimed, very slightly softer than the first, sounding deadly sweet. Rowan shivered.

"Do not keep up this pretence." The first god said. "I have seen what you are doing."

"Oh, sister, do not pretend you do not agree." Venenatus was smiling— Rowan could hear it in their voice— but it was a cold one. "Surely you do not care for them all?"

"It is a crime to act against the monarchs of their lands, you know this, brother." The first voice said.

"Oh, come now." Venenatus said. "It's hardly acting agai-"

"Venenatus." The first voice said, forcefully. "If you do so much as walk beside them, I shall have your powers taken away permanently."

"Well that seems a tad unfair." Venenatus said, a bitterness to their voice. "You must see where I'm coming from. It would be far better if it was us ruling the 4 dimensions, don't you agree?"

"No, I do not." The first voice said. "We have no understanding of mortals. We cannot empathise with their ageing or their disease or their death. We would be unable to rule justly with our limited understanding."

"Tell me, Aubrey, do you truly believe they have the— shall we say— recourses to rule themselves?" Venenatus said.

"They have for thousands of years, Venenatus." The first voice, Aubrey, said coolly. "Why would that change?"

"Well, the new king of the Overgrown, for instance."

Rowan's eyes widened.

"They seem to be.. distracted." Venenatus said, with cruel precision. "By the tragedy that befell them so early in life."

Rowan squeezed his eyes shut. He wanted to leave— he didn't want to hear about that, not from them, but he couldn't risk exposing himself. The air in the room seemed to solidify as Aubrey turned on Venenatus.

"If you try to act as if you did not personally attempt to take their life, I shall make sure you know what it feels like." She growled. "He was thirteen. His parents were barely in their forties. I punished you once for your crimes against that family. Do not make me do it again."

Rowan's attempts to block out the conversation were futile.

"Sister-"

"Enough." Aubrey commanded. "You are not to interfere with their life again. Am I understood?"

"Indeed you are, sister." Venenatus' voice was sour. Rowan feared that those words were not sincere.

Aubrey frowned, as if she was thinking the same as Rowan. She turned on her heel and walked out of the room, sweeping past Rowan like he wasn't even there.

"Like I would listen to her." Venenatus muttered. "If the drakon won't take care of him, I will."

—-

Oh. Yes.

I wish I could have seen this coming. I probably should have.

Dwelling on the past gives nothing but regret, however sometimes it’s hard not to.

-Elliott

[hopeless-herondale]

Leon Verlac is the shadowhunter version of Elliott .

[angstyaches]

If you're still taking prompts- Felix and Elliott haven't seen each other all day, and Elliott's been gassy all day, so when he finally gets to talk to Felix that night, Felix is really angry for some reason but E hasn't been feeling good so Felix takes care of him cause he feels bad and Elliott is just in so much pain 💔 Sorry English isn't my first language -🍫

Thank you for this request, it’s just lovely, and I’ve been so excited to get it finished for you! I couldn’t think of anything that would result in Felix being just the right amount of angry for this scenario, so he’s more annoyed than angry.

Also, we’re just going to ignore the fact that having someone heavier than you lie on your chest restricts your breathing, because Elliott deserves this, damn it.

CW: burping, stomach and chest pains, stomach noises, mention of vampire drinking (animal) blood, slight over-indulgence, slight mention of coming out a prolonged bout of nausea and lack of appetite.

___

“So,” Felix said, stretching his legs out across the bed and then crossing them at the knees. He was gradually working away on one of his blood lollipops, every so often sticking it in his mouth and having to speak around it. “Ugh, I was driving home, doing the speed limit, naturally.”

“Naturally,” Elliott agreed, resisting a sarcastic grin. Felix was the only driver he knew who didn’t violate speed limits every so often, not even by a couple of kilometres-per-hour.

“I suppose it was peak commuting time,” Felix went on. “Which was my own fault for leaving late. I was basically asking for trouble.”

As he listened, Elliott crossed the room to pick up the hairbrush from his bedside locker. He only had to bend a couple of degrees to reach it, but something about the shift in his posture made something shift inside him, too. He squeezed his lips together as he straightened, swallowing a clump of pressure that tried to escape up his throat. There was a distressed growl deep in his stomach as a result, which he managed to cover up by clearing his throat.

“Coming through town the usual way, past the supermarket and over the bridge,” Felix continued, unaware that any of this was happening.

“Mmhmm.” Elliott nodded in encouragement, going back into the ensuite bathroom and standing in front of the sink. His partner was still visible in the mirror, the door wide open so they could still hear each other.

Elliott pressed a fist to his mouth, releasing a short, grumbling belch.

“And then some idiot with a – I don’t know, a Chrysler or something? I mean, who needs a car that big, anyway? Anyway, they pulled out of the petrol station right in front of me, and I had to slam on the brakes!” Felix sighed deeply, letting his hands fall onto his chest. “I mean, I wasn’t going fast, but what if I had been? What if I'd had a cake on the front seat? It would've gone flying and been destroyed! Gosh, I thought I was going to have a heart attack, I was so mad.”

Elliott inhaled softly through his lips, looking into the mirror as he started tugging the brush through his hair. It was almost down to his elbows these days, and he couldn’t decide it he liked it, or if he wanted to cut it back to shoulder-length again.

He braced himself against a hiccup, realising he hadn’t responded to Felix in a while. He swallowed thickly, trying to recall the last thing he’d heard his partner say. “Did – did you honk the horn at them..?”

“I – well, no, I didn’t,” Felix said, sitting up on his elbows to glare at Elliott in the mirror. “I was mad, but come on, Elli. It was a built-up area, and it was after seven. What if there’d been a baby sleeping somewhere nearby?”

“Right…” Elliott murmured, as if he’d never, ever blown the horn of a car in a built-up area before.

“Anyway,” Felix grunted, flopping back down.

There was a distinct, bubbling sound coming from the upper part of Elliott’s abdomen now. He tried pushing his fingers gently into his stomach, just below his ribs, but he immediately hated the sensation and planted his hands next to the sink. That wasn’t going to work, but the discomfort was becoming so bad that he could feel it draining his energy and – more notably – his patience.

And the last thing he wanted, after a long day without seeing one another, was to snap at Felix over something as silly as a stomach ache.

“I’m just, you know… What the hell’s wrong with people?” Felix continued from the bed. “If they just opened their eyes for a moment, they might actually see something…”

He was still muttering – mostly to himself, at this point – about irresponsible drivers when Elliott closed the bathroom door and walked across the room. He approached the bed from the wrong side, which snagged Felix’s attention. The mint-haired boy looked up at Elliott, as though waiting for him to ask for something. His hands were folded neatly across his middle, his head on the pillow, his legs outstretched and uncrossed.

A pang of pure, untainted affection fluttered in Elliott's chest; as least, he was almost sure it was affection and not just a swell of pressure from his stomach. He half-smiled, watching Felix's expression soften.

“Are – are you alright, darling?”

Without a word in response, Elliott knelt at the end of the bed near Felix’s feet. He spread his hands and placed them either side of Felix’s waist, pressing into the blanket and the mattress.

“Oh,” Felix laughed, a slight blush instantly rushing into his cheeks. “Are we…? Oh, okay.” With a confused look on his face, he lifted his hands from his chest, making space for Elliott to lay down on him, head pressed between Felix’s neck and shoulder.

Felix dragged his fingers gently over the back of Elliott’s neck, pulling heavy locks of his hair together and scooping them to one side. “Darling, what’s brought this on?”

Elliott shrugged lightly. He didn’t really know himself, but the simplest answer seemed to be a fitting one. “You looked comfortable.”

“I see…. Well, you can rest your full weight on me,” Felix offered, his voice a little shaky. “I’m small, but I can take it.”

The tension gradually seeped out of Elliott’s muscles as he sank a little harder into Felix. He felt another shift in his stomach contents, which made a light sheen of sweat break out on the back of his neck. He swallowed, counter-productively, before dragging a heavy fist to his mouth.

The rumbling pressure got caught in the back of his throat, circling nauseatingly for a moment before slipping backwards. A tightness in his chest made him frown. His stomach rumbled so hard that it reverberated through his ribcage and gurgled in the back of his throat.

“Oh, gosh, I felt that,” Felix said, sliding on hand from Elliott’s neck towards his upper back. “Is everything okay in there?”

With his fist still waiting by his mouth, Elliott gave a quick nod. “My stomach’s slightly upset, but it’s nothing to worry about. Are you sure I’m not hurting you?”

“Yes, I’m sure! What’s wrong with your stomach?”

“Nothing…” Elliott winced as another bubble moved through his belly, catching in his oesophagus. “Well, I may have over-indulged slightly today, for the first time since my symptoms cleared up.”

“Ah, okay.” Felix’s tone was a little lighter now, as his hand smoothed over the plane of flesh between Elliott’s shoulder blades. “Obviously, I’m not relieved that you’re in pain, but it is comforting to know you’re getting back to your old self.”

“A bloodthirsty bastard?”

Felix stifled a laugh, And Elliott half-smiled to himself before a cramp rolled through his gut, once again coming to a sharp head just beneath his sternum. He parted his lips, hoping to coax some of the air up, but it gurgled all the way back down to his stomach, making the unhappy organ churn and roll.

A sigh of frustration left his mouth instead. Felix gave his back a slightly more urgent pat, hoping to move things along.

“Ugh,” Elliott groaned, resting his hand on Felix’s shoulder as he waited. “You can keep talking, boo. I didn’t mean to interrupt you.”

“No, no,” Felix half-laughed, gently scratching his fingernails against the back of Elliott’s neck again. “That was just ranting. Taking care of you is so much more important.”

Elliott pressed his lips together. The pressure in his chest was beginning to build up again. The rumbling seemed to start behind his belly button and creep its way up behind his sternum.

Felix spread his hand over Elliott’s back again, no doubt feeling every vibration going through his organs and ribs.

Only when the pressure reached his throat, did it move with any kind of urgency. Elliott barely had time to form a fist again, pressing it to his mouth and releasing the burp as steadily as he could. It went on for about five seconds, making much less noise than it had when it had been rumbling around in his chest. Elliott frowned, knowing that there was no way that was the end of it.

“Sorry,” Elliott mumbled, turning his neck to burrow into Felix’s neck. He knew he was acting much shier than he usually would, but he’d already been feeling a bit embarrassed about climbing on top of Felix in the first place.

“Nothing to apologise for.” Felix tilted his head and rubbed his cheek against the top of Elliott’s head.

Elliott nuzzled even further into Felix’s neck as another belch bubbled up, determined not to direct it into his partner’s face. A low groan followed it, a sound that pleading for an end to this ordeal; although, if he was being honest, the pains twisting his stomach and tightening his chest were already fading. Felix’s hand continued to smooth over his back, fingertips occasionally tracing the shape of his spine and shoulder blades, and Elliott wasn’t about to ask him to stop anytime soon.

[bluetraverser]

Finding Life: Chapter 33 - Stardew Valley Fair

Elliott was trying to fix his tie when the phone rang. Usually, he had no issue putting a tie on, even when he was drowsy or tired as the mechanism came to him easy and his fingers were used to the motion but somehow, today he just couldn’t quite get the length right…

He picked up the receiver. “Llyr residence, Elliott speaking?”

There was silence for a moment. He examined his nails, waiting for a reply. He’d need to cut them again.

“Helloo? I was trying to call my son?”

Elliott jolted, righting his posture even though no-one could see him. “Er, Mrs. Llyr, is it?”

“Yes. This is his number, I think. Who are you?”

“Uhm.” He gulped. Long-term it had been inevitable that he’d meet Roberts parents. He had just hoped to have a little bit more of a warning before talking to them for the first time. “I’m, uh, your sons boyfriend, ma’m. My name is Elliott.” He unconsciously stroked his hair back to look more respectable.

There was silence in the line. It made him feel like he was shriveling up, waiting for her to say something. He knew Robert had mentioned himself to her before but he also knew that she had a hard time remembering or possibly accepting that her only son was, in fact, gay. He waited for a moment longer, then took another careful breath:”I, uh, I can get Robert for you, if you’d care to wait a moment-” “You’re that writer-boy with the pretty hair, aren’t you?!”

Elliott stared, taken aback. “I… look out for my hair, yes ma’m.”

“Sorry, sorry, I was just trying to find the right page again. It’s why I called, my friend Susan, you know, I’ve known her since grade-school and we would always plug the daisy's from Mrs Petersons window even if she would go mad-oh well, anyway, she called me earlier and said that my kid was in this magazine with a very handsome man and I was confused but I went to the kiosk and bought it and had to agree that is indeed my---son and that's why I called… but it says here, ‘Elliott’ so that is you?”

His face was burning hot. She had seen. The interview. Those pictures. They were extremely classy of course. The ones that had Robert in them showed him standing behind Elliott, hugging him in one and Elliott kissing his hand in the other. They were almost chaste really. Not at all indicative of their sex life and yet he couldn’t help but burn in embarrassment at the sudden confrontation with her, couldn’t help inappropriately thinking of all the naughty things he had done with her son, somehow afraid that she could know any of it... “Uhm. Yes.” He took another deep breath, trying to not die of awkwardness. “That’s me. B.Y.Elliott. Uhm. Robert was with me at the interview and… we...uh...” He remembered quite vividly what exactly had happened to make them decide to be public in this way and it just made everything even more embarrassing!

“Well it’s a very nice picture I must say and he looks so good in this too! Have you been together long?”

“Almost six months.”

“I see… and how old are you?” It sounded like an accusation. They couldn’t look far apart in age, could they?

“I just turned 26, ma’m.”

“Ah, then you’re almost the same age, I see… that’s good. You look so mature for your age… but Robert does too, I suppose. You think I’m gonna get grand-kids out of you two?”

Elliott chocked, feeling like he went temporarily blind. “I...Uh. I don’t know, ma’m. We’ve only been together six months...”

“What, you’re thinking of tossing him aside already? You think it isn’t going to last?!”

To his immeasurable relief, his partner came through the door then, looking at him curiously. “Actually, ma’m, your son just came in. I’d hand you over, okay? Pleasure to talk to you!”

Full chapter at: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28793223/chapters/87258805

[octanesimp3000]

The Bunny, The Decoy and the Apex Games #1

Here is the first chapter of my first-ever Apex Legends fanfiction! You can expect fake dating, love triangles and a whole lot of drama!

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/32034451/chapters/79351393

Summary:

Both you and Octavio Silva have been experiencing severe drops in your popularity ratings in Season 9 of the Apex Games. The Syndicate has a plan to fix that, but you'd have to fake a relationship with Octavio.

Problem is, you have feelings for someone else entirely. What will you choose to do - agree to the deal and risk hurting your relationship with the one you love dearly, or go against the Syndicate's words?

*Y/L/N = Your Last Name

*Y/N = Your Name

Chapter 2

—————————————————————————

Chapter 1

“You’ve got to be kidding me! No way am I doing that!”

One of the managers of the Apex Games that you had just shouted at out of anger managed to keep the fake smile he always wore plastered on his face. “I’m afraid you don’t have a choice, Ms. Y/L/N. Both you and Mr. Silva’s ratings have been suffering badly this season. We need you two to get on board with our plan or I’m afraid we’ll have to resort to...other means,” he said.

Octane, who had been sitting next to you silently while restlessly bouncing his bionic leg the entire time suddenly spoke up, asking “But how does us suddenly getting into a relationship increase our ratings?” You glanced over at him quickly in disbelief that Octavio was even considering this preposterous suggestion. Had the green hair dye finally had its effects?

You knew that ratings and popularity were important and all in the Apex Games but to go to this extent? “They think that us getting all lovey dovey is going to make people want to...what’s that word Ramya always uses? Ship! They think that fans are gonna want to ship us if they think we’re dating and then, the ratings might go up,” you explained before sitting back in your chair and crossing your arms. “But I’m not doing it.”

The manager’s smile faltered for just a moment before it came back twice as strong. He began speaking slowly as if he were trying to explain something to a child “Like I said, you don’t have much of a choice. It’s this or our more...drastic measures which I’m sure you don’t want to find out about. But I understand that this has been very sudden news so I will allow you two till tomorrow morning to make a decision or to come up with some other brilliant plan to raise your ratings. Do we have a deal, Ms. Y/L/N and Mr. Silva?”

Of course, you two had no choice but to agree with his compromise. Not even stopping to talk to Octavio who still looked a bit confused, you immediately made your way to your dormitory. There was precious little time and you had to quickly come up with something genius to stop this ‘fake dating scheme’ from happening!

However, 4 hours passed and you’d so far scratched out every single idea that you’d written down. It was no good, you’d come up with a great plan but you’d quickly spot a flaw that either the Syndicate or the audience would notice was out of place. Resting your head on your arms, you stare quietly at the framed photograph that was the only piece of decoration on your desk. It was one of you and Elliot when you two had first joined the Apex Games. He had his arm around your shoulder and you, your cheeks flushed pink, were flashing the camera a cheesy peace sign.

What was Elliott going to think about all this?

Just before your thoughts could wander any farther, you felt your stomach rumble. It was then that you realized that you hadn’t eaten anything except for a cereal bar for breakfast before rushing off for training. You decided that maybe a quick meal in the dropship’s cafeteria would help the brain juices start pumping. You pocketed your smartphone and headed out of your dormitory, walking face first into someone’s chest.

“Ah, Y/N! About earlier? I was thinking about it and I really think we should just do it!,” Octavio said in a quick burst before you could put in a word or even process that he had been waiting for you outside your dormitory. You also noted that he was also speaking much faster than usual, you didn’t know how but here he was, proving again that nothing is faster than the Octrain. “So? So? What do you think?!”

You stared blankly at Octavio’s excited and earnest face for a moment as you tried to come up with an answer that wasn’t a flat-out no. You didn’t want to hurt his feelings, Octavio could be very sweet and you had your own reason for not wanting to ‘fake date’ him which had nothing personal to do with Octavio.

“I know it’d be a bit weird but I mean, we both know that it’s fake, you know? I won’t make you do anything you really don’t want to, like uh...kissing? We don’t have to kiss if you don’t want to! Plus we’d get the managers off our backs for a bit, wouldn’t that be great?!,” Octavio continued, seeming to sense your hesitation. He ran a hand through his short green hair nervously as he waited for your response.

You felt your resistance to the idea melting just a little with how thoughtful Octavio was being. It was so unlike the daredevil to be like this. You ran the idea over in your head again and figured that maybe, just maybe it wouldn’t be as bad as you thought it’d be. As long as you didn’t have to be too physical with him and you could tell the other Legends what was going on, then it’d all technically be fine.

Looking up at Octavio, you rolled your eyes with a playful smile curling your lips and said defeatedly “You win, Octavio! I suppose we could give it a try. What’s the worst that could happen anyway?

[apexlegendsimagines]

mirage asking out reader during an apex game uwu?

-Their teammate totally ditched the two of them. And as soon as they landed, Mirage checked their maps to see where their third had went off to. As it turned out, they had dropped no where near both of you. 

-Because of how many teams were goin to Train Yard, also marked as a hot spot, You and Mirage had agreed on the Geyser. 

-As soon as you two began collecting loot and guns, you heard someone calling for help. “I need help please! Where are y’all? Why didn’t you come with me?” 

-As Professionals, you both know you two would not make it in time to help your teammate. So you both groaned and muted his headset. 

-“What a jerk, they agreed to drop with us! I wonder what goes through peoples heads sometimes.” You grumble to yourself as this drawback has tampered with your mood. 

-“Y-yeah. Lets not let them ruin our game shall we? I mean think about it! My good looks and skill and your amazing looks and skill, well, we can win this baby!” His upbeat attitude rubs off on you momentarily since he is pretty cool. 

-You have loved this man since the games started. You were a huge fan and since you were so into the games, you decided to work hard enough to be selected to join. It worked to say the least.

-“You’re right. Sorry, it is just so aggravating knowing that the preferred team needs three, but they just leave off on their own. They should know, none of us are heroes.”

-“You’re a hero to me, (Y/N).” It was a short and soft set of words. But through your mic, you heard his loud and clear. It made you blush as you picked up a secondary weapon. 

-“Then why don’t you take a hero out?” as you began to equip your weapon with all the add-ons you had found previously. 

-There is silence on the other end. It was deafening. You began to wonder if you should have said anything. But sudden gun fire from the building just next door made you snap into action. “Elliott!”

-After a short battle, you managed to kill two of the teammates. There wasn’t anyone else around, so you decided to revive Mirage. 

-“Ah, see? Y-you’re a hero (Y/N)… Thank you.” The twinkle in his eyes told you that he wanted to say something. 

-“What is it Elliott?”

-You didn’t hear it at the time, but Mirage did. Behind you he noticed Wraith creeping around the corner, aiming at you. “(Y/N)!’ He shoved you aside and took the bullets. He was downed instantly. 

-But you staggered to the side, trying to stabilize yourself, you ducked behind a desk. 

-After hunting Wraith down, since she only came to revive her teammates, you ended her. 

-You revived Mirage again, and when you helped him up, he wrapped an arm around your waist and smiled. 

-“I think I should take my Hero out, are you free this evening?”

[onhirel]

Contact Lost

Barbara Parker didn’t know that she could actually be this happy, she realized as she stared down at the ring that was on her left ring finger, a warm gold and set with modest gemstones, with the largest being a beautifully cut topaz, her birthstone. Hannah’s engagement ring was an almost exact copy, save for her center stone being an aquamarine, matching her birth month, as well. Barbara realized she must be smiling like a fool as she looked down at the ring, but she didn’t care. 

Hannah had asked her to marry her!

The thought still floored her. Like, she knew that their relationship was going extremely well, but to have the question popped on her so soon after she got back from France...it was amazing, and the memory of Hannah going down on one knee in once they got home, looking up at her with love and hope and adoration clear on her face...Barbara dropped her head down to her hands as she only just barely avoided the urge to squeal with delight. Honestly, only one thing could make this better, and that was...

“We should tell her.”

Hannah’s voice had Barbara looking up as the auburn-haired witch walked into the living room, a determined look on her face, holding the cups of tea that she had gone into the kitchen to get.

Barbara hummed in agreement as she accepted the teacup on a saucer that Hannah offered her. “I was just thinking that. We haven’t heard from her recently, not since it was revealed that she had accepted that endorsement deal. We really should catch up with her and let her know,” she said before she bit her lip worriedly. “But...”

“But how do we fit her in to the engagement?” Hannah asked, and when Barbara nodded, she sighed. “Well, being married to multiple partners is still considered bigamy and is thus illegal here, I don’t think we can get around that. I knew that before I asked you to marry me.” At those words, a bright grin flitted briefly across Hannah’s face, like the sun revealing itself on a dreary day, but soon the grim, thoughtful expression returned. “But, if she still in interested in continuing our unique relationship, I think there’s a way around it. Witches can register in covens. Not quite as good as marriage, but close enough, and I don’t think anyone would raise too much of a fuss. It’s rather well implied that the members of a coven are partners in all things.”

A slight flicker of disappointment at that, but one that Barbara stomped down with a vengeance. Her knee-jerk reaction that Hannah didn’t actually want to marry her was stupid, and she knew it. Still... “What if she decides she doesn’t want it to be official?” she had to ask, and Hannah sighed.

“I’d be really sad. She...she completes us. I know we never really had the chance to tell her before, but I’ve always seen the three of us together, forever, you know?”

Barbara nodded. She did know. Amanda was so many things...mischievous, loyal, brave, sassy, funny, a very generous lover. Life seemed too quiet without her in it, too boring, too mundane. She desperately missed the red-headed American a great deal. “Right, so, shall we ring her up this afternoon? Her crystal ball has been inactive for ages, but the telephone should suffice.” Even as Hannah nodded her agreement, Barbara felt a flicker of unease run through her. When Amanda accepted that endorsement deal, she had become very wealthy, very quickly, if the tabloids were correct. Paparazzi had given her some trouble, and so she had almost gone ghost. Barbara had also heard that the agency she was working through was rather draconian in their approaches to social media, having an intern or the like represent Amanda online, so that potential gaffs could be avoided, which she was sure that Amanda was very much not enjoying. But still...shouldn’t she have tried to get in contact with the two of them to let them know the good news?

No, that thought was poisonous. Amanda simply had to be incredibly busy, and simply hadn’t had the time. That had to be it. Surely she would still answer a phone call...right?

xxxXXXxxx

Caryn Elliott was typing away at the computer when the phone rang. Clearing her throat, she picked up the receiver. “Thank you for calling the Flying Star Agency, how may I help you, sir or ma’am?” she said in what she liked to call her sexy secretary voice. However, nothing but silence answered her. “Hello?” she asked, and just before she ended the call (stupid telemarketers) she was answered.

“Er...Amanda?” came the woman’s voice. English accent, if Caryn had to guess, but she was from Texas and had never left the state, and so couldn’t say for certain. She glanced at the telephone’s display. Whoa. That was definitely not a phone number from the US. The accent and the foreign phone number was making her think that this was either a prank or a spam call. 

“No, this is Caryn. How can I help you, ma’am?” she asked, trying not to let too much of her suspicion creep into her voice.

A small burst of static. “Hi, yes, this is Hannah England, I’m trying to get in touch with Amanda O’Neill, I thought this was her personal number?”

Her personal number that had been somehow leaked onto the internet and subjected to a barrage of phone calls from fans, freaks, and paparazzi, Catelyn knew, which was why the agency had stepped in and had all calls to that number be rerouted through the agency. And with a name like that, she pegged this to be either a freak or a really unimaginative paparazzi. Seriously, someone named England with and English accent? Pull the other one! Bored now, she idly twisted some of her blonde hair around her finger. “I’m sorry, but Miss O’Neill is not accepting individual phone calls at the moment, but if you’re willing to leave a message, I’ll be sure to pass it on to her,” she droned, almost robotically.

“Er, yes. Ehm, could you just let Amanda know that Hannah and Barbara are trying to get in touch with her? We’re old classmates of hers from her Luna Nova days, and we’ve something important to talk to her about.”

Catelyn only just barely managed not to snort. Hannah and Barbara? Like the cartoons? God, it’s like they weren’t even trying anymore! Still she glanced over the list of accepted names for people to get forwarded to Miss O’Neill’s new phone, the list that had been vetted by the agency. No surprise, the cartoon duo weren’t on it. “I’ll be sure to do that, ma’am,” she lied without a moment’s hesitation or guilt. “Was there anything else I can help you with?”

“Do you have our number?”

“Yes, ma’am, it’s on our caller ID, I’m writing it down right now.” She wasn’t. “Anything else?”

“...No. That will be all, thank you.”

“Thank you for calling Flying Star Agency. I hope you have a wonderful day.”

Then the phone call was over, and Catelyn pulled the legal pad she was keeping track on over to her before making a tally mark on one of the columns. “Let’s see, that makes...seven ‘former classmates’ to call today. Hmm, catching up on ‘long lost family.’ And I was really hopeful for ‘you’ve won some sort of prize’ but that just isn’t providing much today. Strange. Ah, well, there’s always tomorrow...”

xxxXXXxxx

Meanwhile, back in England, Hannah and Barbara stared at the phone for a long moment before sighing. “I think we just got blown off,” Hannah muttered, and Barbara couldn’t help but agree.

“So, what do we do now?” she asked.

Hannah shrugged. “Keep trying? Not much else we can do. Either way, until we can actually get in contact with her, all of us together, we can postpone any wedding dates. If she’s not interested, then we can get married. If she is, we’ll register as a coven. Sound good?”

Barbara bit her lip, but nodded. “I hope she’s okay.”

“I’m sure she’s fine. This is Amanda we’re talking about. Now, what else did we have planned for today? Did you want to have dinner here, or go out? There’s a new Thai place I’ve been dying to try out, but wanted to wait until you were back before I did...”

They would try again, and again, and again, but after all those tries with no results, they soon stopped. It wouldn’t be until they were all on the Task Force arrayed against Silent Spring that they would finally be able to properly reunite, but that was some years in the future. In the here and now, the three lovers were separated by a loss of contact that was propagated by Amanda’s phone number being leaked, her agency arbitrarily deciding which of her contacts were appropriate for her without her knowledge, and a lack of opportunity for the three of them to meet face-to-face.

If anything, it would be a show of just how deeply they cared for each other that the reunion that still lay in the future would go as well as it would. But that is the story of another time...

[studentinpursuitofclouds]

What kind of drunk would the villagers of SDV be? 👀

Heh, it was so funny to write the answer to this ask right after my own hangover. Quite the experience, I would say 😅

I hope, anon, you don't mind if I don't write about Evelyn and George and the kids on this ask, because trying to imagine them drunk... is an unpleasant thought for me. But I will describe all the others (if I do not forget about someone). Thanks for your ask! ❤️

Drunk SDV villagers (except Evelyn, George and kids):

Oh what music! After 3 or 4 glasses of sambuca, Emily feels much more energetic (even more than usual) and simply has to find a potential victim partner to dance until they both fall to exhaustion. In the morning, however, she does not remember anything.

In general, Sebastian despises the taste of alcohol, but somehow he decided to try something like Amaretto coffee or Irish coffee (basically coffee with liqueur or whiskey). Yuck, Sebby didn't appreciate it. The taste of alcohol is terrible and now he feels sleepy and weak. And he can't ride his motorcycle in that condition. It sucks, now he's a mischievous and sleepy drunk.

Jodi is always busy cleaning the house and cooking, so she has almost no time to relax. But if she does get a chance to have a glass of wine with Caroline and Marnie, then she will be more cheerful and a little more chatty, nothing hardcore.

Preferring more green tea and coffee, Caroline, however, also agrees to hang out with friends with the bottle of something strong. Being slightly drunk from a couple of glasses of wine, Caroline will chuckle at her friends' every joke, and may even decide to order a stronger drink. True, all the energy leaves quickly and she immediately becomes drowsy drunk.

Cheerful and energetic, Abigail is ready to conquer mountains after a few strong cocktails. A drunk girl teeters on the edge of "noisy party soul" and "I'm ready to get into any fight for my homies." Luckily, she's not drunk enough to stubbornly go into the mines with a sword in her condition.

Marnie, having drunk about 5 glasses of wine, becomes flirty drunk. And Lewis's slightly angry comments about the fact that she can work on their secret relationship does not bother her at all. It's been a long time since she felt so cheerful and carefree, just like when she was young, ah...

Lewis, meanwhile, teeters somewhere between "paranoid drunk" and "sleazy drunk." At his age, it's not very useful to drink so much alcohol, and now to keep an eye on Marnie, who, as he thinks, will now blather everything about the two of them to everyone. Damn it, you can rest calmly without worries, you old fart.

Let's race, who's faster? Or let's fight on the hands? Alex wants the competition to prove that even though he's a little tipsy, he's still the best. Although the next day he will be ashamed if during the fun he broke some dishes or chair, and apologize to everyone.

Shane canonically is a depressed drunk. He sits in a corner of the Saloon and drinks mostly alone. Please don't touch him, otherwise he will transform from a depressed drunk into an angry drunk. And you definitely don't want to see Shane drunk AND angry.

If the Saloon has karaoke, then Elliott will be always there after drinking mugs of strong ale or wine. Apart from his loud singing, he becomes reckless enough to spontaneously do anything. Gus or the others often help Elliott get home before the failed singer (sorry Elliott, but you write so much better than you sing) hurts himself or others. The poor guy would later lock himself up in his cabin for a couple of days when he found out about his drunken adventures.

After an extra drink, Sam suddenly becomes overly affectionate and touchy-feely. In a state of intoxication, it seems to him that he did not hug someone enough, or that he was not hugged enough. Hug him please, he's like a little puppy.

Linus doesn't drink alcohol, but sometimes in the harvest seasons in the forest he often comes across fermented fruits and berries. Linus almost always processes them carefully before eating so that he doesn't get more intoxicated during dinner, but sometimes he can occasionally eat some raw fermented grapes before bed. He perfectly understands which fruits are more fermented or less. But he treats this without fanaticism, because the main goal is to eat, not get drunk.

"What if? No, it's impossible. But what if I use that formula, and... Nah, it still won't work. But what if I... No no no. Or maybe yes? Or maybe..." The constant ebb and flow of ideas for new inventions is a typical behavior for Maru when she has a drink that is quite strong for her. This will continue until she falls asleep. It is good that her brother is nearby and help her.

Ah, for old Willy there's nothing better than a bottle of mead after a hard day of fishing. So to speak, to celebrate a successful catch. He most often drinks alone, even when in the Saloon, but can occasionally tell his fishing stories to Marlon, Gil, or Clint with a few drinks. And no matter how much he drinks, he will remain the same. Honestly, as if in the mug not alcohol, but just water!

Penny will never touch a drink, but there was a case when she accidentally drank Sam's cocktail, confusing it with her glass of juice. She immediately became sloppy drunk, embarrassed by her condition and making haste to get home. Penny doesn't understand how her mother can enjoy such a state.

Oh, the doctor knows that in small doses, wine can even be beneficial to the body. But when, by coincidence, Harvey has to drink more than his body can handle, then this is a complete blackout. He doesn't remember anything and prays that he did not do anything obscene.

Pam is an aggressive drunk. This is even more noticeable when her order for another beer is delayed by more than five minutes. Mostly this is a verbal skirmish, Pam will not show physical aggression (unless it concerns her daughter. For her sake, she will grab anyone by the throat, and she does not need alcohol for this).

Usually Wizard is always strict about alcohol, but there are times when you just want to get drunk. Given that he always drinks alone, he is most often sad drunk, remembering the old days when he and his ex were still together. If anyone (Farmer) wants to console him, then let them mentally prepare for an hour-long story about his ex-wife, youth, and that "the grass used to be greener."

Marlon will also remember the old days with a glass of whiskey along with Gil, but unlike the same Wizard, Marlon's stories are more filled with fun and excitement. Usually he is strict and silent, but when a little drunk, he opens up a little more, with his comrade remembering their adventures when the young guys just embarked on the path of an adventurer. These old people deserve some rest and fun.

Pierre considers a couple of strong cocktails a well-deserved reward after a hard week at work. The alcohol in his blood makes him more talkative, but now his tongue is tangled up so that you no longer understand whether Pierre asked to repeat the order, or somehow insulted you.

The last cocktail was obviously superfluous, but Haley didn't care. She wants to have fun, and why is the music so quiet, and let's all dance, and she already changed her mind don't touch her, and anyway where is her other cocktail? Cheerful, energetic, but at the same time more capricious - this is how it goes.

Kent has been very wary of drinking since he returned to Stardew Valley. After all he's been through, it's very easy to drown at the bottom of the bottle, and he doesn't want to get to that point. He still has his family. So he asks Gus, Marlon or Willy to stop him if he gets depressed drunk after a mug of beer or two.

Ah, the tango began to play in the music machine! Robin will not miss the opportunity to dance with her husband to passionate music. She usually asks her husband, but after a few sips of ale, Robin pulled Demetrius off the table and onto the dance floor with almost one tug.

The same Demetrius, after drinking, was very sleepy, but the whole life flashed before the eyes of the poor scientist, when his dearest wife grabbed his hand and he heard the words "tango". Demetrius loves Robin and will not refuse her a dance, but still, a strong drink affected the scientist's vestibular apparatus, and he dances no better than a rag doll. But it looks funny Maru and Sebastian will definitely film this on camera as compromising evidence for the future.

Clint has a fairly high tolerance for alcohol, so he probably drinks almost every day. Even in the cinema, he manages to smuggle alcohol under the guise of Joja Cola. So you can call him secret drunk: no matter how much he drinks, he does not look drunk. Just like Willy.

[ellnaturae]

Change of plans || Davell

Who: Dave Karofsky @knockonkarofsky & Elliott Gilbert. Location: Elliott’s room. Time: 23rd May 2019. Summary: Dave talks to Elliott about his new plan. Triggers/Notes: mentions of death.

David comes running to Elliott's room. Too nervous to think things clearly. He had to act fast. "Ell! Open the door!" He asks, hoping he is there.

Elliott looks at his phone having missed a few messages as he was lost in thought as he emailed resumes everywhere he could think "Ah but what if the world ends, would my job as a cashier matter" he jokes to himself but then he sees the message. Dave is coming to his room. He jumps way too quickly and maybe way too desperately off his chair to check how he looks on the mirror. Maybe he should change, maybe he should... a knock on the door calls his attention. There is no time, he messes his hair a little, sexy casual maybe? He shrugs to himself in the mirror and then goes open the door "What's up?" he says when he opens the door.

"Change of plans."David says, shaken and nervous. "P-please, let me in. I need you." He says, but enters anyway, too distressed for formalities or waiting. "We can't stop what's coming. But we can save some people." He says, and it hurts to say it.

Elliott can't even react when Dave is already in his room, his mind was going somewhere else but he realizes this is about the end of the world. He closed the door behind him and then stepped closer to Dave "Breathe, it's okay, tell me, breathe" he tells Dave seeing how anxious he is "What do you mean?"

David didn't feel like he had the actual time to breathe. It wasn't okay. "You said you could teleport people. How many? How far away?"

Elliott is still confused but answers "I... hmmm a couple... maybe three or four if they hold tight, but I can only teleport to places that I have seen already" he explains "Why? What do you need?"

David is so glad he brought him to his clan. He tries to calculate. "Four could be eight with the Socious Pactum. You need to rest to do it again?" He keeps asking, knowing he was asking for too much. "There's a secure place at my clan. The day of the New Frontier, need ya to bring people there. Tell my clan they're all Aetherlings, even if it's a lie." He says, tightens up his fist too strong as he talks. "Kurt, Hudson, Dani, Blaine, Cohen-Chang, Berry, Jesse, Weston, Blackson, Miss Grassland, Mr. Bamboo, Joe Hart, Kami Hawk..." He is asking for too much and still, he needs way more names. He stops to look down. "As many as you can. Please? It is too much?"

Elliott looks at Dave trying to figure out what's the plan exactly "Right..." he says unsure "but wait... hmmm... the portals, weren't we looking for people to make them? I can be taking people from NYADA but those from the city... you know, and like... taking everybody to the same place may be not safe... so many people..." he starts thinking out loud.

David feels hopeless already. Ell is right. There are so many people. So many people that can't be protected. "Yes. Portals. To other places." He really hopes they work. But he can't be sure. "Others go in portals. Just need you to bring our friends to the safety of my clan. Just to be sure." He knows it's selfish and unfair to want to protect the people he cares about first, like the people he never met mattered less. "Wanna be sure they won't die. Please." He begs, still shaking a bit.

Elliott narrows his eyes "Is there something else?" he asks "Why is your home so safe? Why only our friends?" he realizes what Dave is doing, he himself he would put their friends as a priority too, they are after all the people he loves, but if the place was so safe why take that from others as well? In a moment of emergency, why only select a few? He felt like that wasn't right. The comment about lying to the Karofskys about them all being lusus naturae is in the back of his head and also concerns him "Is there something you aren't telling me?"

David looks at Elliott's eyes. "I'm sure it's safe. But I can't put everyone there. So I wanna bring as much as I can." He tries to breathe, and to think. Wondering if he should tell Elliott or it would make it worse. "There's lot of things I shouldn't tell ya." He wonders if he would really keep revealing secrets of the clan and the Fae. He tries to explain it all with calm. And there is only one thing he can explain calmly. "If a Bothrops bit someone on the leg-a venomous viper, cause necrosis and others symptoms- they aren't a Karofsky and there's no healer around,  they have to cut the leg before it spreads. Or they'll die." He explains, shaking less. "It's never ideal. But if they calculated they have no time or means. They have no other choice, don't they?" He keeps silent. "I think that's what the Fae are going to do."

Elliott listens silently, it does make sense that there is not enough space, but then the conversation turns into venomous and symptoms, he tries to follow it, concerned if Dave gets too technical he may get lost, but he doesn't he understand it perfectly, and it makes him feel a mix of anger and sadness that he can't hide on his face "This is not a leg, Dave, these are the lives of hundreds" he says concerned “Look I know how this whole thing is terrifying and no one really has an answer of what’s the right thing to do, but… I’m starting to think if the thing we are afraid of is exposing magic… maybe we shouldn’t… Commons won’t have the same chances as we do, we have spells and portals and teleportation... and… remember when we talked about magic exposure?" he tries to make Dave understand pointing to his own words "You were insisting that Commons should be treated fairly and equally, and I told you I was afraid what that would mean for us… and I was wrong… if this is how we save them, then we should do as much as we can, they don't deserve to die because the Fae don't care about them, no one does...” he looks directly into Dave's eyes like pleading for him to realize what he just said. He fucking knew it, he knew it, the Faes weren't to be trusted. Fuck. "... you can't look the other way..."  There is a question in the tip of his tongue that he is afraid to ask, but if he doesn't then it will haunt him "Dave... do you actually agree with them?"

David doesn't focus his look at anything. Even if it's in Ell's direction, he isn't looking at him. "I know. But Earth Mother is dying. People are dying. More live would be lost." He has no more optimist or hope left. It's terrifying. David tries to grab Ell's shirt to feel like he is holding it to something. "We should expose magic. Don't want all comm-don't want commons to die. Or anyone. But-" But he knows that's just not realistic. He lets go of Elliott when he said the Fae don't care about them. He looks back at Elliott. Quiet for a moment. He shouldn't have to say anything. He wonders if speaking of it would harm his clan. If they won't be safe anymore because he screws it up. Then he would keep safe no one. He hugs Elliott and hides his face on his chest so he doesn't have to look at him when he talks. "N-no. Sorry. Just scared. I don't really know what's gonna happened. Not like the Fae would tell me anything." He says, and holds him tight. "It's paranoia. But clan's safe. I'll give ya how to contact and found 'em. Bring them there please."

Elliott looks at Dave with sadness, he feels the struggle, in the way he holds him and looks at him, even in his silence. When he buries himself against his chest, Elliott puts his arms around him "I can't promise you I'm going to do that, Dave, this situation is bigger than any of us, and people may die, but we should try to save as many as we can, what you say sounds like... sacrificing others" he worries holding Dave closer.

David is hurt. He moves away from the hug to look at Elliott. "Isn't putting everyone in danger sacrificing 'em?" He doesn't know how much he can say. He doesn't know everything, but he isn't supposed to tell anything. "We should try to save as many as we can. That's what I'm telling you a way to do it. Everyone working together and protecting everyone is what I want." In that plan, he counted all the organized Fae working alongside them.  Nothing could stop Fae working together. "But isn't gonna work. Everyone would just die." He has to make him understand. "Please, don't let them die. Bring them to the clan." He begs.

Elliott shakes his head "You are the one saying others are the leg we have to cut out" he frowns confused "We aren't the ones putting people in danger, Dave, that's what I mean... I just... I don't trust the Fae, I do trust you, I-" he stops himself from saying any other things he feels for him "I do trust you... but I don't trust them, and if this whole thing means an alliance with them, if you do believe what they believe, then... I don't think I want to be part of that..." he says worriedly "Do you... really believe that?"

David looks down, not knowing what to say. "Doesn't matter we aren't the ones. You can protect some." He knows he already lost the argument. But that means losing his friends. David trusts the Fae. Even when deep down he has doubts he keeps trying to repress. He can't see an alternative. He can't fail his clan. He can't fail the Fae. And he can't let his friends die. "Then trust me." Elliott asks him what he believes. He doesn't even know what to answer. It doesn't matter what he believes. What matters is what people who knew better than him about protecting the world believe in. "I'm going to do what it takes to make less people die. I'm sorry I couldn't explain it to you. Think I must be telling it all wrong." He says. Because that must be the problem. He is not making Ell understand this is the only way. He sighs, and looks up, gently putting his hand on Elliott's cheek." Doesn't matter. Whatever I have to do. I'll protect you. And everyone else."

Elliott is more confused than ever, Dave words' contradict each other, and he wants to believe the part where Dave says he will protect as many people as he can and that he doesn't want anyone to die, but at the same part him supporting the Fae and their plan seems pretty real too "I'm going to do my best to protect as many people as I can too" at least he can promise that. There is a silence, a moment when he doesn't know what to do or say exactly, with Dave's hands in his face, and him being so close... the pause is a little longer, and he puts his hand over one of Dave's caressing it, leaning into his touch with his face a little "I worry that it means you also want to sacrifice yourself... please, even if you try your hardest to protect everyone, also try your hardest to protect yourself too"

David knows they are probably going to do very different things even when they are saying the same. They have different ideas about protecting. But David honestly hopes Elliott would change his mind and teleport people to safety. If not, he would be the one to try to find a way. Somehow. He is still afraid, he is still worried and he probably would stay like that. Of course, he wants to sacrifice himself. A heroic sacrifice was the easiest way to get people's approval and sympathy. There were lives more important than his. In the New Frontier, his clan would be free to move around the world, working alongside Fae. They'll get the panacea back with no problem. There's no reason for David to keep being there. He loathes it had come to this, some people would die, but the Fae aren't going to kill everyone. The main druid of the clan told him. It's the only way. If they don't do this now everyone would die later. Everyone. The Fae had been trying for years and years all the other possible ways to save Mother Earth. This is the last resort. He hates it, but it must be done. He wants to ask Elliott why would he do that, because he isn't planning to do that. "Thanks for caring 'bout me." He says instead. He wished he could be exactly the man Elliott really wants. David knows he is not. Not really. But he loves to feel wanted and cared about, and he wants to give back. David gets closer to kiss Elliott's lips.

Elliott is surprised when he realizes Dave is getting closer to kiss him. Part of him still confused about the whole conversation wants to move away, though at the same time he wished nothing more than kiss him as well. If Dave actually wanted to kiss him, should he reject him? When they talked after Zerzura things were pretty clear, but now it was confusing, or maybe he hoped it was so he wouldn't feel guilty if he accepted Dave's kiss. "You don't have to thank me" he interrupts his action by moving slightly away from the kiss, but instead holding Dave close to him in a hug "you are my friend, of course, I care about you."

David accepts the hug, but doesn't return it. He wonders if it's too late no. He isn't wanted anymore. He is when he tries to please people, but the moment they tell him he should be more honest, and he does, the distance grows. He didn't help on anything. He didn't change anything. His clan couldn't help the Fae or Mother Earth on finding an alternative to this last resort. Maybe if he had managed to remove the exile the time he had for it, it wouldn't have to end like this. A lot of people were going to die. He couldn't even convince his friends to not be between those people. David slowly moves away from Elliott, no spirit left. "...I have things to do. I'm leaving. Take care, please."  He whispers softly, and proceeds to leave the room.

Elliott worries when Dave's reply is to leave. Maybe he should have tried to talk things out another way. He wants to stop him, to comfort him, but the truth is he won't just change his mind about the topic just because Dave seems sad about it. There won't be any other result to the conversation because none of them would change there mind, but he wanted to believe they both would help people either way. He hoped Dave wouldn't actually follow through with what the Fae wanted "Okay..." he says not sure what else he could say "Be careful."

[timeoutforthee]

Like It or Not-Chapter 10

Taglist: @itsausernamenotafobsong, @sea-blue-child, @iaminmultiplefandoms, @princeanxious, @uwillbeefoundtonight, @zaidiashipper, @arandompasserby, @levyredfox3, @falsett0, @error-i-dunno-what-went-wrong, @scrapbookofsketches, @podcastsandcoffee, @helloisthisusernametaken, @amuthefunperson, @michealawithana, @yamihatarou, @heck-im-lost, @unlikelynightmareconnoisseur, @idkaurl

Summary: Logan, Patton, Roman, and Virgil are all struggling in their recovery. Their doctors, Thomas Sanders and Emile Picani think they can help each other out.

Aka Group Therapy AU

Trigger Warnings: mentions of disordered eating habits, self deprecating thoughts

Read it on AO3!

“What the fuck, Dr. Picani?”

“Hi to you too, Roman,” Emile smiles at his client as he sits down, “I’m going to take a wild guess and say this is about gym class.”

“I think you mean my lack of gym class,” Roman says, “Are you the one who wrote a note saying I couldn’t participate?”

“Yep.”

He is slightly taken aback by how flippant his therapist’s response was. “But why?”

“I’ve told you before, Roman, we need to work on your exercising addiction. Putting you in a situation where you are encouraged to indulge in unhealthy habits wouldn’t be beneficial, to you or your recovery.”

“Can you even really be addicted to exercise?”

“Yes,” Dr. Picani says, firmly, “You can be addicted to exercise. You can be addicted to starving, bingeing, or purging.”

“But exercise is good for you.”

“In moderation, and as long as your body is fueled properly. But you were letting your exercise regimen control your life, and you were denying it fuel.”

“Thanks, I remember,” Roman groans, “But it would be controlled in gym!”

“Mmm, so your coaches wouldn’t push you because they’re used to you going the extra mile? They wouldn’t expect more from you or ask why you’re “slacking off”? You wouldn’t feel pressured from them?”

“Okay, okay, I get it.” he pauses, “What if I’m just, like, really careful?”

“Let me ask you this. If I had an alcoholic patient, and they wanted to go to the bar, but said they would be “really careful”-they would even pinky promise, should I let them go?”

“....yes.”

“Wow, that was really unconvincing. C’mon, you’re an actor.”

“Hey, I’ve been off for three months, give me a while.”

“Are you planning on getting back into it?”

Roman bites his lip. He has a passion for theater, he always has. But lately, he can’t stand the idea of having all those eyes on him, judging him, and the people in the department weren’t exactly supportive.

“I...don’t know. I have the class, still, so I know what shows are coming up,” Roman wrinkles his nose, “They’re doing Beauty and the Beast.”

“Ah, is that a favorite of yours?”

“No, that’s more along the lines of Aladdin. But honestly? I don’t like doing all the Disney musicals in general. We had so many options this year-Seussical, Charlie Brown, Heathers-”

“You really think they’d let a high school do Heathers?”

“Let me dream!”

“Okay, okay, sorry. So, interesting shows, but instead they went with…”

“The classic fairytale. And every classic fairytale needs a classic prince, and the closest thing they have is this Prince.”

“Is that a problem?”

“I don’t know, I guess I just-” Roman frowns, “I got into Theater to step outside of who I am, to break a sort of mold my family made for me, but lately...they just put me into a new mold. And, yeah, this one fits better, but it’s still a mold.”

“I see. So you think your friends from the theater department have trouble differentiating who you are from who you play?”

“I mean...basically. You wouldn’t believe how many girls have a crush on me, even though they know I’m gay.”

“That must be hard for you.”

“Hard?”

“Well sure,” Dr. Picani says, “Having such a big part of your identity, one that took you some time to accept, denied, it can be really troubling.”

“I, uh,” Roman pauses, looking at the floor, “I guess I never really thought of it. I just figured I was making a big deal out of nothing.”

“Really? Why would you think that?”

“Because that’s what my dad said-” he pauses as Dr. Picani frowns, “It’s not a big deal, really.”

“Sure,” his therapist says as he writes. Roman continues to brush things off as “not a big deal” when they are A Very Big Deal.

“Did your dad say this in direct relation to your theater friends not accepting you? Or about something else?”

“If you haven’t noticed, Picani, I tend to be a dramatic guy. My family just gets a little tired of it sometimes.” His therapist quirks an eyebrow, and Roman sighs. “Okay, so when I came out? Back in middle school? My dad was very...quiet about it. Like, he didn’t respond much at all. And because he was so quiet, I assumed he was mad at me. So I spent the entire week working myself up and internally freaking out, and I finally work up the courage to go up to him and ask him if he’s mad at me, and he told me I was being stupid, that not everything is as big a deal as I make it out to be.”

Picani frowns, “How’d that make you feel?”

Roman frowns, concentrating on the ground, “Good...I...guess? Like just because he didn’t respond the way I wanted him too doesn’t mean he didn’t care, and he wasn’t mad at me, so that’s good,” Roman pauses, “What?”

“We haven’t talked at length about your family,” his therapist says, “But if you, as his child, go to him and ask for a more expressive sign of acceptance, he should be willing, as your father, to do that.”

“Oh, he’s willing to, he just doesn’t want to,” Roman pauses, realizing how that sounds, “But it’s fine! I-I don’t need him to. I’m fine, really.”

Dr. Picani smiles, and Roman smiles back, relieved that the conversation is over.

“So, tell me about the rest of your week,” Picani says, tilting his notebook to him so he can write monitor Roman’s relationship to family.

^

“Happy first week of schooooool!” Picani sings out as he enters the room for group therapy. He sits down and pulls a mini confetti popper from his pocket. He pulls the string and a clump of confetti flies into the center of the circle.

Logan sighs. Someday, maybe, he will understand this man. Virgil looks at him from the corner of his eye and smirks.

“While school is rather exciting,” Logan says, “It is no reason for unnecessary celebration.”

“But it’s the little things we should remember to celebrate!” Dr. Picani says, excitedly, “And that makes it completely necessary!”

“...sure. I guess,” Logan replies.

“So, first week of school! New classes, new adventures, so is it starting off like a new Stevenbomb, full of excitement, or like the new season of Spongebob, where you just wish it would end already?”

“I always wish school would end,” Virgil says.

“Aw, being at the new school isn’t helping?” Dr. Picani asks him.

“No,” Virgil responds automatically, but then he thinks about lunch time, about teachers who actually know his name, about material he’s actually interested in, “...maybe a little.”

“Oh?”

Virgil just nods, not bringing anything else up.

“So, what about everyone else? Roman, did you want to tell everyone about the Theater department?”

“Oh, they already know, doc.”

Dr. Picani pauses and looks up from his notebook.

“We’ve been eating lunch together,” Roman says, “That’s...okay, right?”

“Well, yes, as long as you guys are eating together. Sometimes when two people who are suffering are around each other, they influence each other negatively. As in, instead of encouraging recovery, you would encourage unhealthy eating habits in each other.”

Patton’s eyes go wide. Encourage…? But he wanted his friends to get better! He may have deserved everything he was going through, but they sure didn’t!

Looking around, it seemed like everyone else had similar thoughts.

“I think I speak for everyone when I say that’s not going to happen,” Logan says, clearing his throat.

“Besides, we have a babysitter, don’t worry,” Virgil tells Picani.

“A teacher allows us to eat in her room, as long as we actually eat,” Roman clarifies.

“Oh good!” their therapist chirps, “But if we see an increase in behaviors, we will intervene.”

They all hum, seeming to agree that’s fair. Patton hunches in on himself, just slightly, hoping no one notices.

“So I guess you two have to catch me up,” Dr. Picani says, referring to Logan and Patton, “How are your weeks going?”

“Good!” Patton responds automatically, and Virgil is giving him that look again. Inside, he panics. He’s always been so good at brushing off suspicion, why does it not work for Virgil?

It’s clearly also not working for Dr. Picani either, because he smiles and presses on, “And why’s that Patton?”

“Oh, my classes are pretty great! All my teachers are really nice!” Okay, now Picani is giving him that look. Dammit, why was he so bad at this all of sudden? Brushing it off, he sighs, “And...I guess I’m just glad I don’t have to eat lunch alone anymore. It’s a...brighter spot in my day than it used to be.”

“You ate lunch alone?” Virgil asks.

Patton nods. “I mean, I was at a table with some yearbook people, but they never talked to me. It was just them being nice.” Because they couldn’t stand to look at how pathetic you were. “And sometimes I used to eat in the library.”

“I was in a similar situation,” Logan speaks up, “Except I would go around the school offering to do some of the teacher’s errands. They were typically so grateful they wouldn’t question my lack of lunch.”

“Guess you never ran into Mrs. Spencer during that,” Roman says, “that would not fly with her.”

“So I’ve noticed.”

They look at Virgil, who sighs. “I used to eat with my friend, Elliott, but they had this real douchebag of a boyfriend who I hated. And near the end…,” he shakes his head, “Anyway, I used to sneak out the back and hide behind the school during lunch.”

“The end of what?” Emile asks.

“The end of...I don’t know, it. The end of me going to that school, of me living with my dad, the end of-” He stops himself.

“Virgil?”

“The end of our friendship.”

“Whoa,” Roman says, “They must have really pissed you off.”

“They did,” Virgil doesn’t want to say it, but before he can stop himself, he continues, “It’s their fault I’m here in the first place. They broke my trust,” he winces, “Or whatever.”

The question hangs in the air. What did they do? But none of the boys want to ask, and Emile knows Virgil’s not ready to say.

“Anyway,” Virgil shakes his head, “Shouldn’t you say something about your week, Logan?”

“I am simply satisfactory,” Logan says, shrugging, “My classes seem to be enough of a challenge to be intellectually stimulating, but are not too much pressure. I do not have any obnoxious classmates that come to mind immediately. As previously stated, my lunch is better,” Logan lists off.

“That’s great!” Dr. Picani says, “I think one thing you need to remember, Logan, is that we are here to not only deal with any problems, but to celebrate our victories as well.”

“Victories?” Logan says, then adds, “In that case, there is a small…I mean, I have actually started adding jelly to my sandwiches again.” It’s half a tablespoon for half a sandwich, which his taste buds tell him is not enough meanwhile his eating disorder is saying it’s too much. But still. It’s a start.

“That’s fantastic!” Dr. Picani says, and the other three are smiling at him. He suddenly shrinks under the attention. He’s not used to people being so...proud, especially over something so minor.

Because Roman, Patton, and Virgil have seen it. They’ve seen how Logan can only eat half of a sandwich, and then he eats two celery sticks, and he has to break them into quarters before they’re okay to eat. Granted, they don’t say anything, but they must think it’s weird.

Because it is weird, you’re weird, why can’t you just-

“How are you doing about your lack of gym class?” Dr. Picani asks, jerking him back to reality.

“It’s fine,” Logan says. He doesn’t talk about how the numbers are still constantly in his head. The numbers he ate at lunch, the ones that are then sitting in his stomach, as he watches his peers run around on the track, already knowing the exact number they’re burning, how much they would burn if they altered it slowly.

Dr. Picani puts a little star by that. These boys are not as good at lying as they think they are.

[dilldaydreamer-blog]

It’s all Fin and Games Until...

((Discord RP where Pembrooke talks to Elliot @undertakinggraveshift about Fin @orangetrails and then it turns into a full confessional.  With mentions of Sam @ashandvoodoo the Felt and the funeral home, how Elliot got his scars from Snow @theuniverseisher and a bit of PI complaining about MK @rexscelestus ))

Ambaaargh Pembrooke sets a tray of goodies along with two cups of tea down as he slides over to Elliot.  "Good afternoooon.  I hope you are doing well today? Feeling better?"  There may have been a tiny twinge of nervousness in his voice, the one he usually gets when he's obviously getting ready to talk about something but is doing the pleasantries first. He had wanted to speak to Elliot sooner, but between his morail catching the flu and studying for the exam to get him his coroner's license, it felt like the most inappropriate time.

Cloneclone And if Death didn't know his friend enough to pick up on that, what sort of moirail would he be? "I'm feeling worlds better." Death leaned in, nuzzling Pembrooke as the inspector settled in next to him. "You though? It sounds like you've caught the case of something worrisome." He pressed as he took up a cup.

Ambaaargh Ah, right to the heart of things as per usual.  Pem swallows as he does to hold tight to his mental script he had been working on all day.  "I admit there has been a few things that came up that I wanted to talk with you on. Since they're a bit of a sensitive nature, and well...you mean everything to me so I want to make sure you are aware.  Lest it turn into some awkward thing down the road."

Cloneclone The cup went back down, as this sounded really serious. Last thing he wanted to do was to be mid sip when Pembrooke mentioned he was pregnant. ...Not that he could be. Er. Death assumed at the very least? Last big news was the mentioning of Jude, but that wasn't really sensitive in nature. Was it death related? Well, no need to dwell on things when Pembrooke was going to tell him. Death reached out and took Pembrooke's hand, giving it a squeeze. "Take your time if you need, it's alright. I'm here."

Ambaaargh He nods, then takes a sip of his own tea. Best to wet the palate before this talk...and not at all because it gave him a few extra seconds of stalling. "Well, as you know there was a brief stint of grey magic where I suppose I was a bit ah...vampiric in appetite? And the particular reaction to blood?"  He expected Elliot would be aware considering how the inspector just about tried to make out with Elliot during a nosebleed.  Of course then again that was around when Elliot caught the flu so perhaps his memory was hazy.  "For a while there the White Queen also got affected by grey magic to be a full and proper vampire. Which was! Well exciting because well! Vampires!  And she had offered to bite people...myself included since a while back we made a bit of a joking pact that if any of us got vampired by grey magic we'd opt to bite the others for ah...science..." Ok this was going a bit off-track but Pembrooke was ready to steer it back on course soon.

Cloneclone Death had... some ideas as to what might have happened with the information given, but didn't interject with them so far. If anything did happen with the White Queen, well that was between her and Pembrooke. Though... he was a little concerned, especially if her... magic? Programming? Caused him to do something he didn't want to do. ...Actually... Now he was just wary that was the case and... Death wasn't sure what to do if that happened. He wasn't a fighter. But in this case, he would learn! Slowly Death nodded, squeezing Pembrooke's hand again. I will dismantle the matriarchy for you.

Ambaaargh He runs his thumb across Elliot's hand. "Things got a bit tangled up. Because for a moment there it was going to be myself and Jude bitten.  Possibly Ace. Then possibly the White King. Then the door was opened to just about anyone which then meant Fin showed interest.  Then suddenly things all got muddled and it didn't happen at all?  And well..."  Pembrooke inhales. Alright you can do this.  "Well it ended up with Fin and I talking and ending up meeting up with one another where ah...well we kind of bit each other. And ah...made out quite a bit. A lot. And stuff. And ah..."  He could feel his cheeks getting a bit flushed as it suddenly was getting hard to look Elliot in the eyes.  "...I know you warned me to be cautious, and I do agree that yes...mobsters. Dangerous.  But I'd be lying if I didn't say there was sort of a warm feeling there.  I well, really like him.  In a worried state considering the lines in the sand.  But I cannot deny there is feelings there?"

Cloneclone Mhmm, mhmm. Elliott nodded, not too much, but to show he was indeed listening... and then paused. ...And remained like such for the rest of Pembrooke's story. If it had been anyone else, anyone else. Okay, maybe not Snowman or Scratch, and definitely not the White King, but anyone else! Death would have tutted Pembrooke and told him it was fine. He was his moirail, not his matesprite... feelings aside, he was sitting in one quadrant, not all. Pembrooke could do as he wished! But... but Fin? There were so many. Of course it was Fin though, it wasn't like Death was ignorant, he'd seen the man pining. But WHY though?! He was married. A crueler part of him bubbled over, mentally sneering over how of course the shark was trying to dig its teeth into everything, being loyal isn't exactly what Fin was known for, but Death was weakly trying to put that back in pandora's box and slip it into the closet. BUT ALSO, WHY?! Fin was livid, LIVID when Death's MISTAKE landed him in jail. What did Fin think could happen being interested in an actual cop? Did he think Pembrooke would just overlook things like Death had been made to? Death forgot to breath, and when he did, it was a sharp inhale that was held all over again. Unfortunately, Pembrooke was left in awkward silence.

Ambaaargh The awkward silence was there, which surely must be a sign he should keep talking if the awkward banter part of Pembrooke's nervousness was anything to go by.  He runs his fingers through his hair. "I mean...I realize a lot of it is...silly.  He's married. He's a mobster.  A married mobster.  And I...well I know that there is likely no real chance for anything to ever work. Not in the way I always dreamed it would be for a matesprit.  It has all the warning signs of...bad idea.  But it is also hard to just...turn off the feelings."  the tone of his voice sounds almost frustrated.  "That said, you are my morail. Your opinion matters to me and you mean so much to me...and you were the one to advice caution so I didn't want it to feel like I was doing anything behind your back."

Cloneclone And then, of course, the sudden elephant in the room Death was disregarding. Pembrooke had feelings back? Death didn't... see that coming. God, he should have said something. "Shhh." Death hushed Pembrooke softly, placing both hands over Pembrooke's. Again he didn't speak, instead closing his eyes to think. And think. And try to think. And fail to think. What did he say in response to that? He bowed his head instead, taking in another sharp breath to try and ease the negative feelings trying to bubble up. Anger, fear, hurt, sadness, regret. A few more could probably fit into the shitty bouquet he was making himself there. Hands fidgeted with Pembrooke's. Wow though. He hated Fin, Death found suddenly. He disliked him ever since the beginning of... well, his situation with the mobster. But fine. That's what happens when he's not good at a job they've made him do. Mess with mobsters and something is bound to happen. Many things, actually. But it was different now, now it wasn't Death, now it was Pembrooke Fin was messing with, and that was a problem. How dare he, how dare he. But what was Death to do? Death inhaled sharply and bit his lip, taking another quick breath soon after. "I'm sorry."

Ambaaargh There was a few emotions crossing the inspector's face.  Concern, confusion, worry...though he remained silent as Elliot sat there quietly.   Had he done something wrong? Admittedly he was never fully certain what the etiquette of quadrants were on some regards. Shoot...he should have said something earlier...maybe he was supposed to have gotten like a blessing first?  Hnnn... At Elliot's apology, Pembrooke blinks in confusion.  Why was he apologizing?

"I...if anyone should be apologizing it should be me? I don't see any reason you need to apologize Elliot."

Cloneclone "I should have said something sooner, but I didn't. Because I'm cowardly. Gods, I'm so cowardly. I've kept so much from you out of fear, nd half the time I try to convince myself it's to keep you safe, but I think in the end I'm just worried about getting hurt. Which, silly, really. I can't die, so--" Death released Pembrooke finally, cutting himself off. No, no. Stop. How did he even begin explaining to Pembrooke? Amir didn't even know everything, but he knew enough about Fin. Amir was the one who found him after after all, and dealt with Fin personally. First by the law, second by... however it was Amir handled things off the clock. Death never actually found out, but Fin wasn't a problem after that. Should he just spill his guts to Pembrooke? Pem already knew about him being a reaper...

"I didn't quit... because I couldn't afford the funeral home. Things were fine. I've had money, I've always had money. I--" God, where Pembrooke came in with a script, Elliott sure didn't. This was a mess. "I warned you because, lord. Fin, Fin stabbed me." Just bluntly put it. "I was working on a body, the poor man was such a mess. I know how he died, of course I know how he died, and not just because of who I am. I was supposed to keep quiet about it. You don't just work a funeral home so close to a group of gangsters and get away without getting your hands dirty somehow. I was supposed to hide the evidence but Amir stopped by unexpected, before I could, and found the evidence of Fin being involved. And when he finally got out of prison he paid me a visit and-- I should have told you. I'm so, so sorry I didn't. I was just... if he was mad over a mistake, I could only imagine how he'd react over ruining a friendship. I didn't think it would go something further. But what does he think now?? That if you ever found anything on him, you'd ignore it?? I'm not even a cop and he was mad at me, what does he think he'll get from this?? I'm so sorry Pembrooke..." Death kept his head down, holding his face in his hands.

Ambaaargh This was....well it wasn't what he had expected to come of this conversation.  Not even in the top fifty.  The inspector’s head gives that twitch from side to side as he tries to keep up and process everything that is being said to him as Elliot pours his heart out.  It was just...Fin stabbed him? Elliot did work for the mob? Did Amir know?  Oh no...what have you done Pembrooke. You just made everything ten times more worse and complicated and... "I..." there is a false start as words fail to come out of his mouth.  Just...a feeling of overwhelming guilt and confusion taking place. Chances are anger may make its appearance later though jury was out if it was going to fall on Fin's shoulders or his own.  Likely his own.  Maybe.  Right now though, there was just the overwhelming distress of seeing Elliot so distressed, that Pembrooke instinctively put a hand on his morail's knee.  "I...Elliot it's alright. I'm...I'm so sorry. Please. It'll be alright...I...oh frog I'm so sorry.  I've made such a mess of things..."

Cloneclone And then Pembrooke started backpedaling. Death laughed at that... sort of. He gave a noise that was caught in the crossroads of a cry and a laugh, some miserable mirth as he ground a palm beneath his glasses, rubbing at tears. "My we're just a mess. Look at us." His stomach still twisted in knots to thing Pembrooke had done anything with Fin. Again, he could do what he wanted but. It was like something had crawled under his skin and was struggling to get comfortable.  "You didn't know, I should have told you. I'm so sorry you're moirails with a coward- it was selfish of me. I didn't think things would get so far. And-- I mean, you warned me about Sam but didn't tell me to stop, how was I to tell you to stop with Fin? ...Did Sam do something with you?" Death sat up straight suddenly, sobering up.

Ambaaargh "No...no you're not a coward." he shakes his head.  "You're just....well as you said. You're a funeral home that had the misfortune of being next to a criminal organization. Your own brother was roped into that organization...that is not an easy spot to be in and I can't even say I would have been different should situations been reversed."  Pembrooke bites his lip, torn between trying to comfort Elliot and his own internal screaming over being the cause of this.  Had he ignored the cues? Perhaps he should have been more aware of things?

The question about Sam however hits him by surprise, causing him to pause dumbfounded.  "Uh...pardon?  Not that I'm aware of?  Sam was...quite cordial? Liked my cat.  I mean...him being very close to Diamond Droog has me a bit concerned...but he's never done anything to me directly?"  Pembrooke shakes his head as he runs his hands through his hair.  "I'm really truly sorry Elliot. Had I know...and this isn't saying this your doing...but I swear I would have not...the last thing I ever want to do is hurt you or make you uncomfortable. I'm so sorry."

It was only now that it was starting to sink in, the parts of Elliot's conversation about what Fin did.  In a way it felt like the carpet had been pulled out from under himself, torn between the perception he had built from his own experiences and memories...clashing with this sudden new information and narrative.   Had this been just...a deception? But...the brief tenderness seemed so genuine?  Part of him wanted to confront Fin right then and now, but what if that reflected back to Elliot.  The sudden realization that Elliot could be in danger only added to the confusing miasma in the inspector's mind.(edited)

Cloneclone Elliott eased now that Pembrooke explained everything with Sam was still pleasantries. He wasn't looking forward to the day that changed... if that would change. So far everything was... cordial. Arrests still happened, rules were still enforced, but it was like some weird... 'okay you're just doing your job'. Save for the times things got extremely personal, such as the situation with Fin. It'll end, eventually, but Death could wait for that time. Closing his eyes, Death took a breath then leaned in, curling his arms around Pembrooke to hold tightly. "I feared telling you my involvement. I'm sorry for lying to you. I didn't want to get involved, I never wanted to. I told them no at first, I... made the mistake of... telling Snowman no, that I would tell the authorities on her. And that is how I got my scars. She had sewn my mouth shut and... She's kept me quiet since then. Until now. ...I guess while I'm word vomiting I might as well lay out every single thing that can damn me." If the train wreck was going to happen, Death might as well let it keep going.

Ambaaargh As if able to read the thoughts in the air, Pembrooke held Elliot closely.  "If it is any help, I expect that Sam and I know where our respective stances are.  If it was to ever come to things, I don't think he would take personal offense...and I would not either...I think."  he sighs, not quite as confident as he would like. Just moments ago he would have been able to say the same about Fin.  The conversation he had had with the mobster seemed genuine on the understanding of their respective lives...but maybe that was just a facade.

Trying to make sense of things right now was proving too much a hurdle...this was definitely a need a few days to emotionally parse situation. Instead, Pembrooke focuses on petting Elliot's hair reassuringly. "I.." the mention of his scars and how they came to be suddenly pulls Pembrooke right out of his priority to comfort as he makes such a face.  How dare she...any regrets Pembrooke had about his decision behind the sniper gun were suddenly cast into outer space.  Which probably isn't all that good considering all that happened and the lives potentially lost because...Pembrooke pushes those thoughts aside and hugs Elliot tightly as he buries his face into Elliot's shoulder.  "It's alright. I understand why, and I don't blame you.  That's what mobs do...they force people into things they don't want to do and then use the guilt to keep them quiet and going.  A nasty cycle and I'm so sorry you were caught up in it.  I'm just...I love you Elliot. So much.  And that isn't going to change anytime soon if ever I promise."

Cloneclone "I'm sorry for not just... telling you. Everything. After dropping the reaper knowledge on you, I... I don't know why I thought just everything would be too much." Elliott inhaled deeply, though this time it succeeded in easing him as he sagged in Pembrooke's arms. ...Getting that all off his chest felt good actually. "...I don't have any more secre--" Fuck yes he does. The unmarked graves. Uhg, he was tense all over again. Elliott thumped his face into Pembrooke's chest and made such a noise into it. A frustrated, long, drawn out groan. "If I tell you enough terrible things, you won't feel bad anymore. This is my ploy all along." He mumbled, which bless Pembrooke if he heard any of that through his chest. Death could almost laugh about this, not because he was amused... well, some sick part of him was amused, but so much was happening at once that he wasn't sure what to do other than make a helpless sound of humor.

Ambaaargh He didn't quite get that, but the tension in Elliot's body told him that perhaps this was enough heartfelt confessions for now.  With a gentle shhhhh...he pats Elliot's back as he rocked him.  "It'll be alright.  Whatever it is, you don't have to tell me now. Or ever...but I promise no matter what I'm going to love you either way."  A soft kiss to the forehead as he pulls Elliot into his lap to cuddle. "Well sort it all out. Bit by bit. I don't blame you at all for not telling me.  Those are some rather intense secrets...I can fully understand the fear behind them.  Like I said, I honestly cannot say I would have done differently if I was in your shoes. For all my good cop antics...I can be quite the jitterbug.  And I mean...even if I didn't expect the outcome that it brought...I did shoot the Universe. Twice now."  Another kiss.  "We're just...an awkward pair aren't we."

Cloneclone Bless Pembrooke and his understanding. Death couldn't ask for a more understanding moirail. He understood polyamory could exist in every quadrant, but he couldn't possibly see anyone touching Pembrooke's place. "Two awkward peas in a pod. I wouldn't want any other diamond shaped pea in my pod though." Death settled comfortably in Pembrooke's lap, leaning fully against him. They should have had this talk in bed. "... Could make it lucky number three though. Heh. ...What do we do now?"

Ambaaargh Pembrooke tilts his head in thought.  This was well, a lot to process.  A whole lot. Chances were high he was going to have a few emotional bumps here and there as some of it registered even.  But none of that would do much good tonight, so better to just focus on the positives. He cuddles Elliot close. "Well I was thinking we could put these dishes away, and snuggle into bed.  And cuddle a bit like the two peas in the pod we are."  There is a concerned expression.  "I will have to figure out what to do in regards with Fin...how to feel about that.  I won't lie in that it may take some time though, I'd rather not do something drastic and I definitely don't want him to get the impression you had anything to do with it.  But also...I won't lie that this is a lot to sink in right now.  Bit numb in the head." A kiss to the cheek.  "As for the rest, we'll sort it out as we go.  New things learned, but it doesn't mean they need immediate reactions or solutions.  We can tackle them bit by bit as you feel comfortable. Together." He squeezes his hand.  "That said I'm now retroactively declaring my second shot to Snowman was payback for what she did to you.  ....Maybe.  Doesn't feel like quite enough  really. May have to try one more shot another time..." Shifty eyes look left and right with a playful smirk.

Cloneclone "Mmm..." All reasonable concerns. All concerns Elliott had, which really put a boot break on him saying anything. At least it was finally off his chest, and hopefully he could stop drowning in misery over watching the two speak. There was still a concern that that was selfish but Death shook those thoughts away. He was stabbed. He was fully allowed to be concerned! "That sounds like a siren song I would fall into." Little kisses were accepted, and little kisses were given, before Elliott pulled himself from the warmth of Pembrooke's lap. A tea cup was briefly snatched to swallow its contents before he cleared his throat after, finally collecting himself. May the power of tea strengthen him! "I understand this won't be easy... and I do not judge any struggles you'll have. ...Especially any thoughts to go a third time on Snowman, ahah. Oh that sounded terribly malicious." He took up the tray, "But I will also be with you, forever."

Ambaaargh Pembrooke takes a few moments to wrap up uneaten sandwiches to put them in the fridge, before finishing his own tea to set the cup into the sink.  Undoing his tie, he flinches a moment as right...that. "I...should probably mention that when I said Fin bit me, he did leave a bit of a...eh...mark."  He swallows, suddenly feeling a lot more guilty about that now.  "I.  Hmm. Maybe I can get it touched up, glamor wise....I don't know..." Thinking was starting to get difficult, so much to take in.  "It will work out though, I promise.  May not be easy, but it'll work out." A speech as much for yourself as it was for Elliot really. Sliding into bed with nightclothes on, there is a moment of thought.  "Perhaps I should focus less on the shooting aspect and back to the law.  Just hoo, been shooting so many monarchs recently.  But nnn...probably best not to let violence solve that problem in the end.  Did I tell you that the Black King showed up to the Romance Book Club?"

Cloneclone The dishes would be washed later, Death wouldn't be one of those roommates, but he was too busy trying to usher the scene to bed to work on cleaning up a mess. He pulled a face at the mentioning of a mark, but did his best to hide it from Pembrooke. Instead turning about to bump his head against Pem's shoulder. "I'm not going to hold it against you. If it was anyone else... I wouldn't mind and... you didn't know. It would be cruel to think less of you over something you couldn't have known. " He slithered into bed after Pembrooke, taking up the position of straddling the inspector's lap to dote on him once again. "I don't think I understand, Romance Book Club?"

Ambaaargh There were many times Pembrooke wondered how he got so lucky with having the greatest morail in all the city if not the universe...this was one of them. A soft murmur of appreciation is given as he once again tries to warm up his chilly Elliot with cuddles.  A good part of him still felt guilt, but....Elliot was right.  Had he known the severity of Elliot's motivation for concern he likely would have tried to keep a distance from the start. Instead of well... ...he'd deal with things as it came.  Not something to rip a bandaid off by any measure, especially considering his own feelings.  Instead he smirks and gives a chuckle. "Oh. Yes.  So...a while back I was talking with ah...Slick's son. Karkat. About how it would be great to start a Romance Club.  Meet at the library and talk about subjects and literature of romance in a non-mocking environment. Sort of a pleasant hobby."  He leans his head against Elliot as he speaks.  "So I got some time rented at the library to use one of their meeting rooms. Set it up...left open invitations to everyone...when of all the random people to show up...was him.  Glamoured...almost didn't put two and two together but then...well.  Awkward doesn't even begin to describe it.  I...think he knows I was the one in the fog...when...yeah..."

Cloneclone Hands slipped up Pembrooke's shirt, slipping around him in a hug to splay his fingers out and plague the poor prospit with chilly digits. "You are remarkably talented in getting to know everyone, regardless of their walk of life. An absolute inspiration. Ahem, but I will contain my desires to swoon over your people skills. ...To uh, that which is a concern. Is he... trying to get you alone? Is he going to hurt you?" Death frowned, squeezing Pembrooke, "I don't know how to explain to him that was needed, but all is well now? He has to see there's some connection, yes?"

Ambaaargh Even when he knows it's coming, and even though it has happened many nights before, there is that slight shiver as the cold fingers spread out to steal the inspector's body heat.  His own personal heat vampire it would seem. Acceptable. "Mmm...I don't think so? There was a brief bit where he may have had a chance.  I do get the feeling his attendance was because of a genuine interest in the club.  Which...sounds odd in a way.  But then again there were members of both gangs there as well so...mm. Sort of a neutral ground meeting of sorts."  Hands reach around Elliot to move up in a similar fashion.  "I confess all things considered who was in attendance, he held himself together quite admirably.  I'm still uncertain me not mentioning the fact of who he was was a good strategy or not."

At this point, Pembrooke had begun to lean on it being a good call. A fight would have likely broken out...innocent people could have been hurt and there wasn't even...well truth be there wasn't any actual evidence to arrest him outside of existing still?  Which...well Snowman was still in the city despite that.  Ugh...the legality of it all was already more than you wanted to think about.  Time to focus on nibbling Elliot's neck,

Cloneclone "...Be careful, okay?" Death kept a frown. He may know when his friend would pass, it clearly wasn't anytime soon because he was certain he wouldn't be able to hide that from Pembrooke if it was supposed to be tomorrow. However, pain wasn't a thing Death could predict, and pain was still something Pembrooke could very much go through. "You're a very delicious target to everything royal. Just as much as you seem to target everything royal ahah-  yeek!" Speaking of delicious, Death wiggled at the nibbles.

Ambaaargh A a pause in the nibbles as he gives a nod in agreement.  "It's true. I am delicious.  But I will do my best to be careful.  Right now it is a he knows that I know that he knows round we go scenario.  But...I expect the fact that he didn't destroy me on sight and his posts indicate a fair amount of happy romance...that I've got a little bit of grace."  He'd add something about it not being the case had Snowman actually died but then again there wouldn't have been any of them around to worry about it had that happened. "All in all...a thing to be concerned. But in a way par for the course.  For now...I should kiss you. We should rest...and tomorrow will...well it'll come and we'll take it one day at a time. "  a pause.  "That said...I'm going to hold the right to request that if Sam does stab me one day, even if it is non-personal and just business. That...hmm....actually I'm not sure if I would feel right saying that's a dealbreaker.  Maybe I'll just hold off on that judgement until I get stabbed by someone. See how I feel."

Cloneclone "Give him suggestions for good romance movies. 'Pretty Lady' is a good one. Or 'Friends with Benefits'." At the mentioning of kissing, and leaving worries for tomorrow, Death pressed against Pembrooke to push him backwards before shifting, letting Pembrooke settle beneath him comfortably before Death used him as the comfortable mattress, imported straight from Prospit he was. Death stretched and grunted, before pecking the inspector with kisses. "If anyone were to harm you, regardless of reason, I can assure I would avoid them at all costs and be most miffed... I truly hope it's never Die but... I've come to realize that may not be a choice I have."

Ambaaargh "I can promise I'll do what I can do not have that come to be....er...occasional online bumping of heads notwithstanding.  I...would rather not cause any friction to what may already be a delicately balanced relationship."  There is that slow burning worry in his mind though, now that he was realizing that the Felt likely did have Elliot under their thumb.  Would his decision to leave upset them? Is he now in danger? Neither faction of mobsters were necessarily known for charity or mercy versus making an example.  Pembrooke squeezes Elliot tightly for a second before returning to a more comfortable hug.

"I personally am aiming to keep my stab count to none.  Been holding a record for it so far, don't plan to quit yet!" he grins, brushing errant bangs from his morail's face.  "I love you."

[spaceorphan18]

Changed For the Better 9 [Klaine Advent Day 9]

Rating: S for Shenanigans Word Count: 1727 Summary: AU - Kurt’s a struggling actor living in New York, and is currently working on a Made-for-TV movie starring Cooper Anderson.

A/N: Written for Klaine Advent Day 9: Inch

Thanks @snarkyhag for taking a look at this <3 

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5] [Part 6] [Part 7] [Part 8]

//

Changed for the Better - Part 9/24: The Dog Days are Over

Elliott fiddled with the key, the damn thing just wouldn’t go into the lock.  Kurt had insisted the cheap place down the street would be fine making a key for him, but Elliott wondered if it was time to just ask the landlord to give him one.  As he jiggled with it, someone joined him in the hallway - a strangely dressed man in a brightly colored plaid blazer and matching bowtie, who had some sort of package in his hands.  Someone who stopped at the door and watched him curiously as he struggled with the lock.  

“Can I help you?” Elliott was more irritated at the lock than at the man, but the frustration came out nonetheless.  

“I’m here for Kurt Hummel?”  

“He’s not back until tomorrow.”  Elliot finally managed to get the lock.  The door swung open unexpectedly, causing Elliott to fall forward, and in the process he knocked over the small end table.  A ceramic bowl that held their keys as well as a picture of he and Kurt, arms around each other in a selfie pose that they had taken celebrating their first week as roommates smashed to the floor.  Damn it, Kurt would be pissed when he got back.  

Elliott began picking up pieces of the bowl as the man stepped in and picked up the photo, and stared at it without speaking.  

“Do you want me to leave a message?” Elliott asked, too busy inspecting the broken pieces of the bowl to really pay attention to the man.  

“I’m Blaine Anderson,” the man said.  

“Ah, Cooper’s brother,” Elliott said.  The bowl was only in four parts.  That was glueable, right?  

“You know who I am?” Blaine placed the photo back on the stand and frowned.  

“Well, yeah, I’m--”

“I know who you are,” Blaine sharpley interrupted him.  “Kurt said he’d be home today.”  

Elliott shrugged.  “I’m meeting him at the airport tomorrow morning.  That’s all I know.”

“Oh.”  Blaine’s eyes shifted from the photo to the package in his hands.  He looked sad.  “Well, this is the final script for the play he’s auditioning for.  If you could give it to him, I’d appreciate it.”  

“Yeah, no problem.”  

Blaine awkwardly placed the package in Elliott’s hands, turned to leave, then turned back as if he had something to day.  

“Yes?” Elliott asked after a moment.  

Blaine stepped in close so he was an inch or so away from Elliott’s face.  “Just...Kurt is a wonderful, magical creature who should be treated with the adoration he deserves,” Blaine said, pointing a finger into Elliott’s chest.  

“Okay?”  Elliott wasn’t sure where Blaine was going with it.  

“Don’t forget that,” Blaine added, digging in his finger a little harder.  

“Sure,” Elliott took a step back.  Kurt’s friends were confusing.  

Blaine looked like he wanted to say more, but spun on his heel and left.  

Well, he was definitely Cooper Anderson’s brother, Elliott thought.  

///

Elliott mostly forgot about the encounter until Kurt was back in the apartment.  

“Is this a package for me?” Kurt asked, dropping his luggage to excitedly open it up.  

“Yeah, that’s some script for a play?” Elliott said.  “Cooper Anderson’s brother dropped it off himself.”

Kurt froze, his eyes widened with delight.  “Really?”

“Yeah, he’s a little...odd.”  

Kurt was too busy staring at the script in his hands adoringly to notice he had said anything.  “I should call him…” his said dreamily.  

“I thought you said the first thing you were going to do when you got back was deal with our unwanted house guest…”

“Oh, Adam.”  Talk about throwing cold water on top of Kurt’s head.  “Right.”  

///

“I’ll always love you.”  The words echoed hung in the air, even after Adam had closed the door to the apartment.  

Kurt was on the couch, still a little in shock by their conversation.  Still a little overwhelmed by the feelings he was, or maybe wasn’t having.  

I will always love you.  The last thing Adam had said as he got up to leave.  Kurt had told him was over, really over this time.  That time in Ohio had cleared his head.  Kurt hadn’t wanted a revival of that sad drama, he realized.  He wanted closure.  He wanted to say goodbye.  Officially.  And he had.  

And then Adam had said… that.  

But you won’t always love me, Kurt thought, slightly annoyed now that he was alone and thinking about it.  The whole point of you leaving in the first place was that you didn’t love me enough.  Adam always did want to have the last word, have the final thought.  But no -- Kurt did now.  

You won’t always love me, and I don’t think I love you.  Not anymore.  

Goodbye, Adam.

For the first time since the whole drama had happened, Kurt felt like he was finally moving on.  

///

“I need to do something that’s really me,” Kurt said to Rachel as they were walking to brunch the next day.  “I need to do something that shows them just how much I can do.  I know I’ve got it in me, Rach.  And I’m ready.”

“What happened to you in Ohio?” Rachel teased.  “You seem more confident - more inspired.”  

“I don’t know, nothing specific really,” Kurt said.  “It’s more like a feeling.  Maybe finally closing one door is letting another one open.”

Rachel eyed him suspiciously.  “Kurt Hummel, did you finally put the past behind you?”  

“Maybe I finally just have a reason to be looking to the future,” Kurt said with a smile.  “And I guess I feel like maybe I can show the rest of the world who I really am.”

“Oh! Kurt, I have the perfect song for you to do at the audition!”

///

Kurt didn’t see Blaine before the audition.  A week had passed since he had returned from Ohio.  He had texted Blaine nearly every day - even if it was about more superficial things.  But he was as anxious to see Blaine as he was to do the audition.  Blaine was, however, understandably busy with getting the show up and running.  So when his audition slot had come up, seeing Blaine in the audience was the first time they had been in the same room since he returned.  

Also, he learned, in the audience was Artie Abrams - the director of the show, Trent - Blaine’s friend and former classmate who had written the original script, and June Dolloway herself.  Definitely no pressure there.  

He performed ‘Not the Boy Next Door’ from The Boy From Oz - gold lame pants and all - pulled out all the stops.  He dazzled, he flirted, he shook his hips, and he hit that run up the scale like he had never done before.  It may have been the greatest performance he ever gave.   He couldn’t read his audience - except for Blaine, who stood and clapped and grinned proudly.  

It never occurred to him that the performance would be too much.  

///

On the way out of the theater, he bumped into Sam and Mercedes heading in.  

“Well, you told Rachel, who told Mercedes, who told me that they need more guys for this thing,” Sam explained.  “And, well, I need a job, and Mercedes told me I have a great voice.  So why not?  I can do a little swaying in the back, maybe show everyone a special dance move or two.”  

Sam rolled his hips, making Mercedes blush.  Kurt was less concerned about Sam’s audition than he was about the two of them attempting a discreet relationship.  

“So, uh, you guys are spending more time together since karaoke night?” Kurt asked.  

Mercedes put her head in her hand.  Sam looked away, pretending the question wasn’t asked.   They then looked at each other and giggled.  

Kurt was happy for them.  

///

Blaine asked Kurt to coffee three days later.  

As they sat down for coffee, Kurt found that he couldn’t keep his eyes off Blaine.  Was it just him, or had Blaine managed to grow more handsome over the past three weeks?

Which made Blaine’s distance feel even more alarming.  

“Kurt, I need to talk to you about your audition.”

Kurt felt a familiar turn in his stomach.  “You guys hated it.”

“No, no, no,” Blaine said, almost too quickly.  “ I mean, personally, I don’t know if I’ve ever seen someone who radiates on stage like you do.”  

A kind thing to say but there was a but.  There was always a but...

“But,” Blaine said.  “Others may not have felt the same way.”  

“Do you mind if I ask - what was it about my audition?  I mean, I put all of myself out there.”  

“I know, and that’s recognized, I promise.  But, Kurt - this is a musical about a boarding school, and about how we all kind of work as one big team.  It doesn’t necessarily work if…”

“Someone pulls all the focus?”  

Blaine played with his coffee cup.  He didn’t have to say anything to let Kurt know he was right.  

Kurt deflated.  “Of course…So, am I just doo-wopping behind you, or do they not want me in it at all?”

“Kurt,” Blaine reached out, placed a friendly hand on his arm.  “Well, it was two against two, because quite frankly Trent loved you, too.  So we talked to June and Artie and they’ve agreed to give you the part of Bryan’s, that’s my part, best friend Jack.  He’s only in a couple of scenes, but he has an entire song, and is really pretty memorable if you ask me.”  

Kurt felt a little conflicted.  His life was always two steps forward, one step back.  Still… a show was a show.  At least he wasn’t just a nameless person in the chorus.  And Blaine had went to bat for him.  That had meant something.

“So,” Blaine said slowly.  “Did you…”  Blaine looked as though he wanted to say something, but couldn’t quite bring himself to do so.  

“Yes?”

“Did you want to hear about the changes June wanted make to the script?”

“Oh,” that wasn’t what Kurt had expected.  “Sure, do tell.”  

They slipped easily into conversation, like old friends catching up, talking about anything and everything.  Except, Kurt realized later, about Adam.  Kurt hadn’t even thought of bringing him up, and Blaine never asked.  Maybe that was one conversation they didn’t need to have…