#but this post still reminds me of the comfort patrick brought

[whoslaurapalmer]

hot poison for breakfast takes. sizzly. spoilery   

- @lyeekha i think you’re 100% right, this book is very much “daniel handler wrote this book using lemony snicket as a pseudonym”  -especially with the mention of the fear of being kidnapped, brought up in this specific way, which danhan has expressed was a childhood fear of his  -“sylvia” and “terry” and assuming what other people’s lives are like remind me of entry four in danhan’s slate diary posts from 2000  -the boy who refused to eat a poached egg sounds very much like it could be his son, especially because he mentioned his son’s love of nonfiction in an interview a few weeks ago in relation to poison for breakfast and why he wrote it  -danhan’s swimming hobby  -the focus on being a writer and being at writing events, even though lemony himself also is a writer but i don’t think lemony sees himself strictly as a writer 

-i mean i don’t know WHAT i expected, out of poison for breakfast, but i do not think it was exactly this?????  -like it’s a GREAT book in terms of philosophy, writing (i especially love other writers talking about how they edit. i find it very comforting, to know we all edit in relatively the same way.), consideration of humanity  -but it is danhan. 

-i did try, for a little, to think about fitting the details in the first chapter into a timeline in lemony’s life  -but it does make a lot more sense if you just take it as danhan’s life, especially because there is such a hole where vfd or even the memory of it would be  -not that i was EXPECTING vfd  -and also like!!!! lemony deserves to be happy!!!! i loved the thought of old man lemony sitting around and eating whatever he wanted for breakfast and reading whatever he wanted. that was so comforting. i loved that thought. it was like a nice sweet hug.  -and i thought of the house by the lake as a sort of ‘pre-apprenticeship vfd-adjacent headquarters situation re: buildings’ because of how he said he went there with family but then never mentions his family  -and i tried to consider the running down the street at night/the kidnapping (cause it was kidnapping) from a clear vfd standpoint  -but then i felt bad that i was doing that because this was such a humongous tone difference from anything previously and i felt like saying those things was me, imposing something on the narrative, and i felt like i was being stupid  -but i think there is a gentleness in lemony, particularly older!lemony, that is absent here  -and again it’s not terrible that it’s danhan, yeah????? because the book truly does say a lot of beautiful, beautiful things, it’s just very unexpected in comparison to the rest of, i guess a ‘snicket canon’ in a sense  -there were some moments that reminded me very much of lemony though!!! the “loneliness savant” in particular. the discussion about how to make eggs. i feel called out because i flip my fried eggs (but i still make them with a runny yolk.) the “egad!”. the fact that the writing style really does remind me of atwq in places, like i felt from the style guide  -but i am very reluctant to say that this is for sure narrated by lemony  -oh i feel rather petty about that. 

-you know. -have i ever not recognized my own handwriting?  -no. -because i think a great deal about how terrible my handwriting looks, and i love looking at the way people write, not from a handwriting analysis standpoint, but in terms of how distinct it is between people and how family members can have similar but still distinct styles (i can imitate my brother’s writing, we do some similar letters, and when we get letters from my great-aunt it looks a lot like my grandmother’s)  -i feel like i’m being petty about this too so i’ll stop 

other notes from while i was listening to it 

-i have had a deep love of patrick warburton from a young age bc of seinfeld, so it was nice to hear him read it, very relaxing, very good, but patrick warburton is still not entirely my image of lemony (-also the last time i saw patrick warburton he was on celebrity family feud a month or so back and he had a mustache. and we all know how i feel about mustaches. it was uncanny.)  -there were some spots i think he actually sounded a little like danhan, though, too. 

-before i thought about danhan and before i got to the end i was like, “i am imagining an alt!universe lemony, who has never been in vfd, who has never lived a life of danger, who has never been on the run except to have a good time, who does not have to care about what goes in tea, who lives pleasantly alone on a hill and has friends and acquaintances and lived with his family and kept secrets to keep them and not because he had to, who somehow still gets poisoned, hold on isn’t that danhan though” 

-oh!! the joke about the ugly baby, that’s a classic one, I know I’ve heard it on the jack benny show -and i loved the lists a lot. 

-i took a break after chapter 2 to make lunch, and making lunch after listening to a man talk about how he made breakfast and was poisoned (well.) was slightly strange. -for the record, I had tuna. -i knew the tuna was not poisoned. but i was like. you know???????  -and while I was eating lunch I was reading the recent tv guide which talked about an upcoming netflix show about a woman who was poisoned and had 24 hours to live and seeks revenge so that was also. something  

-the woman, in the, photograph  -i’m just gonna let that one go 

-suggesting words for “surprising” to the translator – some time ago I wrote a short unfinished fic where lemony finds a newspaper with a headline implying he and bertrand are having an affair, and he and beatrice and bertrand sit around trying to come up with a better word than ‘torrid’ to describe their relationship  -it just reminded me of that.  -i also did have a moment of ‘wow! that happened’ about the ‘going to the least suspicious place’ because it reminded me so strongly of saying lemony hides in the least likely places  -but anyway 

-supermarket was still a big highlight. sinnerman and bread. i just love that so much. 

[jerakeenc]

many kidfics i’ve read and loved

look who’s reccing a million year old fics now. kidfics, very many. posted to dw for snowflake, thought I’d copy here as well. will be reading most, if not all. if you don’t hear from me again, this list is the culprit.

101 Ways To Get Lucky (In Love) by lenore

18,200 words | SGA, McKay/Sheppard

Rodney McKay is rich, gorgeous and at the top of his game—except someone just moved the goalposts! Now Rodney realizes he is sorely lacking the one status symbol that everybody seems to have…the perfect family. Rodney needs help, so he hires a relationship coach. Single-dad John Sheppard may be an expert, but not when it comes to his own relationships! And every day he spends with Rodney makes him wish that he could be the one to fill the vacancy in Rodney's life…

A Beautiful Lifetime Event by astolat

29,000 words | SGA, McKay/Sheppard

Life is what happens when you're busy making other plans.

An Earlier Heaven by regann

67,400 words | X-Men, Erik/Charles

In the wake of Cuba, Charles and his students are ready to pick up the pieces and work toward achieving Charles's dream of a safe haven for young mutants. Those plans, however, take a surprising turn thanks to a very unexpected complication. As he slowly builds a future for his students and for his child, Charles struggles with the loss of Erik and the secrets he's willing to keep to protect his family, but those strides are shattered when Erik makes a startling reappearance into his life. [mpreg, kidfic, ensemble]

And everything nice by noelia_g

30,200 words | Social Network, Mark/Eduardo

The one where Mark somehow ends up with a child and of course needs a nanny for the amount of time he spends at the office. Only problem is a string of nannys keep trying to get into his pants for what he assumes is his money. Cue Mark's assistant hiring a male nanny, enter Eduardo.

asking to be born by longtime_lurker

26,500 words | Bandom, Pete/Patrick

"Don't worry, it's probably just his big gay freakout," Andy yells cheerfully and unhelpfully into Patrick's ear as they're hustling Pete over to the nearest private clinic.

Better with You by harriet_vane

38,100 words | 1D, Liam/Louis

Based on this prompt at the kinkmeme:

Single parent and solo artist Liam Payne hires Louis Tomlinson to be a full time nanny to his four year old son Sammy. Although the two men don't quite click from the start it's love at first sight between Sammy and Louis. Eventually Louis and Liam warm up to each other and get on like a house on fire, in fact the two become a little too fond of each other.

I refuse to apologize for how sweet this ended up, okay? It's kidfic, I am forever writing kidfic, and this one is even kid-fic-ier than usual.

Can't Get Enough of You (Baby) by eternalbreath

22,100 words | Inception, Arthur/Eames

Eames vanishes from dreamshare and Arthur goes a little crazy looking for him until he stumbles across him -- with a baby.

Chelsea, Chelsea, I Believe by empathapathique

300,800 words | Hockey, Kane/Toews

Patrick meets a girl his rookie year.

Don't You Shake Alone by dsudis

62,180 words | Generation Kill, Brad/Nate

Nate looked exactly like Brad always pictured him: exhausted in the full life-in-a-combat-zone sense of the word.

Dude, what's a bulwark? by kellifer_fic

12,150 words | Teen Wolf, Derek/Stiles

Beacon Hills is the kind of small town where everybody knows everybody, and what everybody knows is that surly diner owner Derek Hale and free spirited single dad Stiles Stilinski have been in love with each other for years. If only they knew it too.

Every Other Beautiful World by rhiannonhero

43,280 words | SGA, McKay/Sheppard

Some things are unexpected but still inevitable in every beautiful world.

Forever, Now by harriet_vane

227,100 words | Bandom, Frank/Gerard, Jon/Spencer, Brendon/Ryan, Brian/Greta

Brian rescues kid!Gerard and Mikey from life on the streets, and eventually everyone finds a family.

here comes the sun by oflights

56,600 words | Social Network, Mark/Eduardo

This is a story about growing up, sad 70's rock songs, too much hair gel, "Maxwell's Silver Hammer", a baby with curly hair, a Geiger counter, a dog that isn't named Max, the Chicken Dance, Cheerios, pepper-spray, drugs, sex, and a stuffed chicken named Cluckerberg, nicknamed Cluck. or: Mark raises Sean's accidental baby, and I write the fluffiest thing ever.

I Got a Love (That Keeps Me Waiting) by svmadelyn

163,700 words | Hockey, Kane/Toews

There's a lot of different ways this summary could go, like:

Patrick Kane gets more than a gold medal in Sochi.

Or, the classic: It's too late to pull out now.

Or: Patrick Kane continues to thrive in high pressure situations.

Or: Patrick Kane gets knocked up, goes to White Castle, and finds love, not necessarily in that order.

But, ultimately, all that really matters is this: Patrick Kane is keeping his baby.

I Would Be by cathalin

20,290 words | American Idol, Kris/Adam

AU. Adam and Kris meet a few years down the road, when down-on-his-luck Kris and his young daughter Katherine show up to rent a room from Adam, who never made it to an Idol audition.

Ice Ice Baby by uraneia

51,340 words | Hockey, Claude/Danny

A gold medal isn't the only souvenir Claude brings home from Prague.

OR: The one where Claude gets drunk, gets pregnant, and gets convinced to move in with Danny, whom he's been secretly in love with for years. What could possibly go wrong?

my heart is bigger than the distance in between us by estrella30

15,000 words | 1D, Nick/Harry

Nick chuckles quietly but grabs the remote and follows Emma, Aimee coming up close behind him. It’s indeed Harry on the telly, singing along to his latest radio hit and smiling slowly into the camera far too seductively for half eight on a Friday morning, if you ask Nick. He presses the volume just in time to catch the crowd’s roaring applause and see the pink flush Harry’s cheeks. Nick watches him duck his head as he gives a small wave to the audience, and it hits Nick that Harry is still the most humble and appreciative billionaire Nick’s ever met.

Good job, popstar, Nick thinks to himself.

or, Nick is a single dad and Harry is his bff and it's a bunch of years into the future and they fall in love

Once Upon a Furry Octopus by skoosiepants

11,270 words | SGA, McKay/Sheppard

He was an intelligent, intuitive pet, but he wasn’t going to start sniffing out ZPMs or hidden Ancient weaponry or detailed instructions on how to kill a Wraith with a common household item. A pen, for instance.

Reconcilable Differences by astolat

40,000 words | Smallville, Clark/Lex

Luthor Family Values.

Shelter by harriet_vane

63,500 words | Social Network, Jesse/Andrew

From the kinkmeme prompt: Some sort of AU vaguely based on Shelter! For whatever reason, Jesse has to take care of Hallie and give up his dream of being an actor. He ends up working in a dead end job when former, now successful friend (Andrew) returns home. They fall in love, etc, only Jesse can't go away with him because he has a responsibility to his family. CUE ANGST.

Show Me The Way Back Home Baby by stilinskisparkles

15,000 words | Teen Wolf, Derek/Stiles

In which Lydia and Jackson produce the world's cutest baby, and the pack goes crazy-- the good kind of crazy. Except for Derek, who is afraid of tiny cute babies and Stiles who plans to be the best Uncle ever. Even if Danny called dibs on Godfather.

Skybird by windsweptfic

33,785 words | Inception/White Collar, Arthur/Eames

Arthur and Eames adopt a kid and raise that kid into Neal Caffrey.

Small Cells and Fibers by sevenfists

7,830 words | Bandom, Frank/Gerard

Tuesdays were finger-painting days. Frank made sure to wear his oldest pair of jeans, because even with his full-length apron and his constant reminders that paint belongs on paper and not on clothing, he always ended up with tiny, multi-colored handprints all over his clothes. There wasn't a thing he could do about it, so he just wore pants from 1995.

Small Primes and Square Roots by liviapenn

12,500 words | SGA, McKay/Sheppard

"I hope you picked someone really intelligent, otherwise it seems like it would be kind of a waste. Of incubation time, if nothing else."

So Wise We Grow by deastar

81,250 words | Star Trek Reboot, Kirk/Spock

"Commander Spock, we have located your son," the Vulcan lady on the screen says, which would be great, except Jim can tell by the look on Spock's face that he's never heard of this kid before in his life. "If it is expedient, the child will be sent to join you on the Enterprise within the week."

Something Better by lovelypoet

18,350 words | Bandom, Frank/Gerard

"We all have to take jobs we don't like sometimes, you know?"

The Next Time You Say Forever by Thistlerose

27,300 words | Star Trek Reboot, Kirk/McCoy

After his ex-wife's death, McCoy is forced to leave the Enterprise to look after his teenage daughter. Under normal circumstances, this would be the end of…whatever it is he has with Kirk that's more than friendship, but less than what he wants. But the universe has other intentions.

The Reeducation of Misters Kane and Toews by jezziejay

15,900 words | Hockey, Kane/Toews

In which Kaner sort of has a kid, and Mr. Toews doesn't know which of them is the bigger brat.

AU featuring teacher!Jon and hockey-player!Kaner. With bonus 'Hawks characters, love notes, pasta jewelry, Be Better Pizzas, pirouettes, a sprinke of angst and guest appearance by Derek Jeter.

The Road Delivered Us Home by keelywolfe

117,430 words | Hobbit, Thorin/Bilbo

In the years since Bilbo left Erebor, he has lost his respectability, gained a nephew, and gotten on with life at Bag End.

He'd left aside adventure for the comforts and peace of his little Hobbit hole, and for the love of a child who needed him. Though perhaps, adventures can yet find him.

This Story Was Brought to You by Our Sponsors by scaramouche

29,500 words | Supernatural, Dean/Castiel

Dean's post-apocalyptic life is a friggin' soap opera. Romance! Angst! Separations! Reunions! Pizza Dinners! A Child Dean Never Knew He Had! It's all very dramatic.

throw a little sparkle all over it by etben

26,000 words | Bandom, Frank/Gerard

"Hey, Ma," Mikey says. "No, everything's fine—well, I mean, Gerard accidentally adopted a baby—no, he's changing her now, he can't talk."

Tiny Houses by ohmyjetsabel

77,130 words | Teen Wolf, Derek/Stiles

"So this is what Stiles does. He lies in Scott’s bed and waits for Melissa to say she’s found someone to get it out of him, to cure him of the wrongness and the bad, and he dreams.

God, he dreams.

He dreams of fire and swollen bellies and that scene in Alien, of giving birth to jackals through his urethra, the whole horrific nine yards. His head is a terrible place to be, he can’t imagine his stomach is much better, why anyone would want to put a thing inside of it."

Tip, Slide, Tumble by j_s_cavalcante

42,900 words | due South, Fraser/Kowalski

Ray knew when he found the body in the alley it was going to change someone's life. He just didn't expect that life would be his.

Turn by saras_girl

306,000 words | Harry Potter, Harry/Draco

One good turn always deserves another. Apparently.

Unless it's lies or it's love by sprat

25,300 words | American Idol, Kris/Adam

In which Adam (a rock star) meets Kris (a single dad) at an Emergency Room in Arkansas at the end of a particularly shitty night. Also features: San Francisco, fresh starts, baked goods, OCs, cameo appearances by Matt and Megan, pirates, monsters with garbage heads and a recording studio.

What Child Is This by lamardeuse

30,150 words | Merlin, Arthur/Merlin

A modern AU with Merlin, Arthur, mayhem, a baby and a jingly elf hat.

What to Expect by arsenic

29,200 words | Bandom, Bob/Mikey

Mikey has his band, and his little girl, and that's enough. Really, it is.

Winter's Children by neery

66,890 words | Marvel, Bucky/Steve

When their attempts to recreate the super soldier serum failed, Hydra started trying to breed Captain America clones from his genetic samples. Unfortunately, the serum's effects aren't passed down genetically, so instead of an army of tiny Captain Americas, they get a bunch of tow-headed, asthmatic, allergic, immuno-compromised little Steves.

And then the Winter Soldier stumbles across Hydra's failed experiment...

With Six You Get Eggroll by speranza

31,000 words | due South, Fraser/Kowalski

"Kick 'em In The Head: A Guide To Parenting."

ETA: Bonus! Because I apparently lost my bookmark for this one but have the memory of an elephant for kidfic, so it came to me eventually. :D

A Farm in Iowa 'Verse by sheafrotherdon

166,000 words | SGA, McKay/Sheppard

John inherits a farm, Rodney ends up entirely out of his element, and there is much ado about baseball.

[wonnoy]

life long besties (?)

i have returned master kageyama

[][]

warnings: i guess insults for people who (i dont know. )

[][][

1 | 2 | 3

Oh god how you hated him. It didn't even matter what you hated about him, it was just everything.

Kageyama Tobio was the most insufferable person on the planet to you and the feeling was mutual. It wasn't instant hatred mind you, it was more like one action triggered the entirety of the downfall. And it all started with Hinata.

Last year of high school, your last year to make memorable memories. Stuff that would make you look back and hopefully not regret or be embarrassed by anything. Much harder said than done really, being outgoing wasn't the strongest suit you could wear.

You looked around the classroom, it was just buzzing with activity and you were the only one left out of it. A little bit of an outcast, you had spent the better of your time studying. The only semi friend you really had was Tsukishima - and even he was too busy with volleyball to actually spend any time with.

Any time you did spend with him was when the two of you were studying at each other's houses. He preferred it that way, there were less distractions there than at school.

Tsukishima was currently sitting by himself too, but you didn't think he'd be by himself for long. Yamaguchi, if you remember correctly, was always dragging him away from the classroom.

You scoffed and slunk your body further down into your seat, was it worth the hassle to go and try to talk to him? At least once without it being about a certain topic or anything? You sighed internally to yourself, probably.

Scooting your chair back, you started to walk over to him. He had his headphones in and a book in his hands, the usual set-up. You gave him a tat on the shoulder and he took his headphones off.

"Isn't Yamaguchi coming soon?" you leaned up against the desk.

Tsukishima scoffed at that, "I'd rather bite my fingers off," and he looked back down at his book. You would have normally took that as a sign to shut-up and go away but-

"So that does mean he's coming by soon right?" you smiled down at him and Tsukishima only sighed muttering 'any second now'.

The doors to your classroom bust open and in came Yamaguchi, smiling wide and eyes already landing on his friend.

"Come on Tsukishima, we gotta go," and Tsukishima only groaned before sinking into his chair, hastily pulling his headphones back on. But Yamaguchi was having none of it, already keen on moving him out of the chair.

You were still leaned against his desk and tilted your head, go somewhere? It was barely lunch time and you knew for a fact that volleyball practice doesn't start until after school.

Curiosity bit at you while Yamaguchi tried dragging his friend out of the chair.

"I can help," you got off the desk and could feel the burning stare of hatred Tsukishima was sending your way.

"Ah thank you y/n," he sounded relieved and began tugging while you started pushing. With great effort, and a couple minutes later, Tsukishima was finally standing but as an upset toddler.

"Where are you taking this big lug?" you leaned against the desk once more. You needed it a bit more for support this time rather than comfort because of the slight exertion you just did. Tsukishima grumbled at you and rolled his eyes. You ignored him.

"We're off to hang out with some other third years at the gym," he explained and stopped thinking for a second, "you're welcome to come with."

You looked behind you to gaze at your desk and the ones surrounding it, they were all empty. It would have been better than staying here alone, you didn't even bring your headphones today. You turned back to Yamaguchi, you were just complaining about being alone and not having enough memories.

Yet when given the opportunity you want to run away from it? Like hell.

"Sure, lead the way,"

__

Yamaguchi talks a lot, but you kind of already knew that. The fact that Tsukishima and him are close friends is insane, polar opposites those two were. The terrible friend and then the mediocre-ly kind friend, a wild dynamic.

"Someone called me Spongebob yesterday because of my freckles," Yamaguchi said. He went and dotted the freckles under his eyes for emphasis and Tsukishima snorted.

"Does that make me Squidward then," he pushed his glasses up, "the one that makes your life hell?"

Yamaguchi paled and nervously laughed. Tsukishima didn't stop his insult there, he then looked at you, "and I guess that makes you Patrick," and you immediately began to beat on him with your hands.

"I'll show you Patrick, you damn squid," you spat. Tsukishima and you lagged behind whilst Yamaguchi kept strolling ahead to the gym doors.

There was already a racket going on inside and it didn't surprise him much. He looked behind him, you were still pulling furiously at Tsukishima's ears as he continued verbally assaulting you.

Yamaguchi opened the doors, "hey guys, I brought a friend!"

There were only two boys inside yelling at one another, Hinata and Kageyama. Ukai was in the corner reading a magazine, he offered to be the 'parental guidance' last night when the third years asked if he could watch over them.

Doesn't seem like he was paying much attention though, which may or may not have been a good thing.

Hinata was bragging about his jumping when Yamaguchi announced his arrival, immediately turning away from Kageyama. Kageyama was fuming in front of him and Hinata turning away only made it worse.

"Ah, Yamaguchi!" Hinata jogged up to him, "took you long enough," he smiled and slapped his hand on the back of Yamaguchi. Sputtering forward, he grumbled from the stinging on his back from the slap that Hinata gave him.

Yamaguchi pointed behind him, "it's because I had these two in tow," pan-zoom in to you now tugging Tsukishima to ground and claiming that 'he was now Plankton in your eyes'.

You stilled when looking over at the doors of the gym - first impressions were already going down the drain and you quickly climbed off of Tsukishima whilst brushing your skirt down to manageable levels.

You waved, "hi," and the orange man smiled really wide at you. You think you remember him, you believe you actually watched one of the volleyball games after Tsukishima mentioned it at the end of a study session.

Hinata Shoyo, and the one fuming behind him was Kageyama Tobio. They were the star duo when it came to 'quick attacks' if you could remember the term correctly.

"I think this is the first time I've seen you outside of the hallways," Hinata laughed. He was already striding towards you and gripping your wrist, dragging you to the gym with him. Protests were choked back as you slowly skid to the doors and into the gymnasium. You haven't really spent a lot of time in here, normally you were in and then you were out.

It felt uncustomary to be standing here.

You looked over at the last third year of the room, Kageyama. His hair reminded you of a weirdly shaped q-tip and his face seemed to always be holding a permanent look of anger on it.

"Dumbass!" Kageyama bellowed out and you immediately puffed your chest at him like some weird peacock. Did he just - did he just call you a dumbass?

Hinata behind you was about to say something back but you beat him to it, it could have saved you this entire mess of hatred. But no, your fat mouth just had to open.

"I'm not the dumbass, dumbass," you shot back. Your brows were furrowed and fingers were clenching. Hinata still was holding on your wrist and he let you go, setting you free to swing your arms right back down to your sides comfortably.

Kageyama looked taken a back a little bit because it was you who replied and not Hinata. But it definitely didn't grind his gears right when you called him that, if his stiffed posture didn't indicate anything other than that.

"Alright let's just-" Yamaguchi began but Kageyama cut him off.

"But you're clearly the dumbass," Kageyama snuffed at you. By now, he had taken a couple steps closer to you so he could do some sort of intimidation stance to show off his height compared to yours.

You grabbed your forearm and began pushing up the already short sleeved shirt, "call me Sandy Cheeks because I'm about to karate chop your ass," you could hear Yamaguchi stifle a laugh to the side but no further fuss than that.

Kageyama couldn't have looked more disgruntled after you said that phrase. But instead he only mimicked your movements. You clearly took this as a threat.

So because of a tiny misunderstanding in communication, the ten year long feud between you and Kageyama raged without fail.

[][][

this is going to be one of my longer fics - as you can see it's got 3 parts

this is part 1, i wont be posting part 2 for a bit because im doing my first collab.

see you soon, im writing for futakuchi.

[wild-aloof-rebel]

Do you have any David and Patrick wedding reception/after party/wedding night headcanons?

absolutely! here are nine…

i.

even though the rest of the catering is delicious, david still misses the pizza that should have been, insisting that his carefully crafted menu is incomplete without it. halfway through the night, a dozen of elm county’s finest pizzas mysteriously appear, and though it isn’t fresh-baked the way it would have been had everything gone to plan, it’s salty and cheesy and hot and precisely what everyone needs to keep the night going. no one takes credit for ordering it, but patrick suspects that roland and jocelyn’s sudden absence during the cake cutting may have been for more wholesome reasons than he and david had assumed.

ii.

the cake is a traditional white almond sponge, but there’s a cherry filling and a thin layer of matcha buttercream in the middle that perfectly balance out the sweetness with bright and earthy notes. david had made patrick promise that he wouldn’t smash cake in his face, and he holds true to that vow, feeding him a careful bite from his own fork and relishing the way his eyes close and the corners of his lips quirk up, the same as they had the day they’d first sampled it at the bakery in elm glen, tipsy on free champagne and each other. but as soon as all the eyes in the room turn away from them and back to their own plates, patrick dips his finger into the icing and dabs a single dot of it to the corner of david’s affronted mouth just to have the excuse to lick it off of him.

iii.

there are too many toasts for david’s taste, which is to say any at all, the spotlight of stories and well-wishes making him wriggle in his seat, patrick’s hand squeezing gently at his thigh every time his leg begins to bounce. johnny, despite david’s worries, gets through his brief words without a single tear, just a huge, proud smile that doesn’t seem to leave his face all night. clint, on the other hand, tears up as soon as he starts, leaving marcy to swap his champagne flute with a tissue from her handbag. stevie, traitor that she is, opts to give her speech responsibilities over to alexis, and david braces himself for whatever horror story from their past she’s about to unleash. but instead of the past, she talks about the here and now, about the ease of david’s laughter and the quickness of his smiles, about the way patrick looks at him when he isn’t watching, about getting back a brother she hadn’t realized she’d lost and gaining another she hadn’t known she’d wanted, about how the walls we build around ourselves aren’t what protect us but love and friendship and family and trust are, about all the ways that letting others in only makes us more ourselves in the end. her charm and endless warmth invite everyone in to the story, make them a part of it, and there isn’t a dry eye in the room by the time she finally raises a glass, not only to david and patrick but also to this little town that brought them together–all of them–and gave them happiness they hadn’t known was possible.

iv.

patrick tears up watching david dance with marcy, his husband taking advantage of his height to spin her under his arm, her buoyant, carefree laughter floating out over the sounds of “brown eyed girl.” impossibly, he sometimes thinks she might love david even more than he does, and while he’s so glad that everything has worked out the way it should, there’s still a part of him that knows he could have missed this, that he could have let her miss this, not just the joy of dancing with david, which on its own is a beautiful thing, but the certainty of knowing that patrick is living this happy, comfortable life of his own choosing. they’ve talked a lot since his birthday, and he knows that all she and his dad have ever wanted is for him to be happy. there’s guilt and sorrow that twist in his gut like knives when he thinks about how close he came to denying them that, to denying himself that, and he still isn’t sure some days how he managed to walk away from that life and straight into this one he hadn’t even known he’d wanted instead. he honestly suspects some kind of divine intervention; it’s the only way to explain the miracle that is his husband, holding out a hand to him from the far side of the room, inviting him in once again to this world of joy and laughter and light that he gets the privilege of sharing with him every single day.

v.

moira wears 4 different outfits throughout the night, and david can only roll his eyes fondly at each costume change. in addition to the white alexander mcqueen dress she wears for the ceremony, she slips into a black stella mccartney gown before the start of the reception, the fabric split at the shoulders to reveal sleeves made of the same delicate crystal-adorned mesh that’s stretched across her shoulders. at the end of the night when it’s time to retire to the motel, she says her final goodbyes in a gareth pugh striped pantsuit that reminds david so much of her pajamas he briefly wonders if she might actually sleep in it. but his favorite by far is the ethereally structured iris van herpen she dons after dinner and toasts and cake, the dress flowing around her in elegant waves as his father spins her across the dance floor, art come to life, all the sharp, swift lines of her blurring into something–someone–softer and subtler and more at ease than he ever thought she could be in this place.

vi.

after a dance with stevie, patrick spies his husband tucked into the far corner of the room, his nose buried in his phone. david startles when patrick’s hands slip around his waist from behind, but the surprise of it passes quickly and he relaxes back in patrick’s grasp, comfortable and safe and at home in his arms. he drops his phone to his side though when patrick presses up on his toes to hook his chin over his shoulder, but not before he can catch a glimpse of a picture of the canopy of tulle and flowers that hangs over the center of the room. you can admit it you know, patrick tells him. admit what? david asks, though he clearly knows he’s been caught out. patrick presses a quick, soft kiss to the curve of his neck, tightening his arms around his husband as he breathes him in. they did a good job. this place is beautiful. david scoffs, but there’s no truth in it at all and patrick buries a chuckle in his shoulder. you’re beautiful, david replies instead, raising his phone again but flipping to the front-facing camera this time. he catches patrick’s left hand in his own, squeezing them to his chest so that both their rings are visible on the screen. he snaps several, both of them grinning dopily at the camera or at each other, as if they can’t stop themselves from looking deliriously happy if they try. after a careful debate over which one is best–patrick argues for the picture where the crinkled laugh lines around david’s eyes are deepest, though david vetoes that one in favor of another where patrick’s smile is wide and bright as david presses a kiss to his cheek–david posts the picture to the store’s instagram account since he no longer uses his own, captioning it we’re officially a family-owned business now. family. david is his family. the thought bursts into happy sparks, a cascade of fireworks hot and bright inside of patrick, and he can’t help but kiss david then, turning him in his arms to press all this glittering joy against his lips.

vii.

much later, patrick opens instagram on his own phone to clear away the overwhelming number of notification that have popped up on the post. hundreds of likes and dozens of congratulatory comments have rolled in, but the very first of each is from rachel.

viii.

thought i might find you out here, patrick says as he finds his husband standing in the inky darkness out behind the building. he looks overwhelmed–by the noise and the people and the emotions of the day–but in that way like he still can’t quite believe this is all real. let’s go for a drive, patrick offers. david’s brow wrinkles but he climbs into the passenger seat without a word, and patrick knows that however many mountains he’d climb for this man, he’d never have to do it alone. he can feel the moment that david realizes where they’re going, his fingers digging excitedly into the meat of patrick’s thigh. it’s well after midnight, so he doesn’t pull into the driveway, stopping instead on the shoulder across the road. he drags a blanket from the trunk and throws it across the hood of his car, offering david a hand to help him clamber up on top of it. they sit together there under the stars, shoulder to shoulder, looking out at their future, sketching the shape of it in whispers and hushed giggles and kisses soft and warm. only when they’re both shivering in the damp night air do they finally climb down and crawl back into the car, taking one long last look at the place they’ll soon call home. i wish it was already ours, david confesses into the safety of the dark, and patrick threads their fingers together, squeezing until he can feel both of their rings digging into his skin. me too, he says, but you’re still the only home i need.

ix.

they slip in quietly through the back door, though stevie grins wolfishly at them from across the room to let them know their absence hadn’t gone unnoticed. but there’s more dancing then. and drinks. photos. conversations. all these beautiful memories in the making. and later still, when things finally wind down and their parents and most of their other guests have said good night, david’s stomach rumbles loudly enough to be heard over the hushed strains of whitney houston still playing in the background. patrick, half-drunk, buries his fond, ridiculous laughter in his husband’s neck, and twyla suggests they head to the cafe. together with alexis and stevie, they wander right down the middle of the street, arms linked between them, david shaking his head as the other four make a sloppy, over-loud attempt at belting out “willkommen.” at the cafe, they all pile in to a booth together, talking loudly enough that twyla can still join in, calling back to them through the pass-through as she cooks up a mountain of scrambled eggs with cheese and warm, buttery toast, which she brings out all on one big plate. as they dive in, david thinks back to all the best meals he had when he lived in new york–expensive dinners at michelin-starred restaurants, quick lunches at greasy spoons, long boozy brunches and cheap late-night dives–and none of them could possibly compare to 3 AM scrambled eggs at the only restaurant in town, with his husband pressed so close he’s practically in david’s lap, surrounded by these people he loves more than he ever thought he could, all of them cackling wildly as they try to steal bites off each other’s forks. it’s the kind of moment–the kind of life–he would have never even thought to dream of, but it’s his and it’s real and he’s going to do everything he can to hold on to it for as long as he’s able.

[echo-three-one]

Good day tumblr.

I'm migrating to using google docs for writing and I found something I wrote that was unpublished.

It's like an OC x OC because I wrote this at the time I got invested in A LOT of contemporary romance books.

It's also NSFW, It is a one-shot and I don't know how I made that last sentence. I'm single since birth and maybe had a couple of girls in my life but never really made it together. Enjoy? I guess

Matt

I released yet another deep sigh as I tossed my controller on the couch. It has been two months since my heart got shattered but I still haven’t found the chance to move on. Maybe I wasn’t supposed to, that’s why my mind has been tormenting me ever since. Even my best bud gave up on me when after all those “conventional ways” he knew failed, evidenced by me still visiting her profile page every now and then. Heck, I even have her notifications of whenever she posts.

My phone vibrated and that specific ding means that it’s an Instagram post from her. Yes, call me crazy and all because I still am even after all this time. She posted a picture of a plane ticket and a passport to whoever knows where, it’s one of those photos that didn’t contain her face, meaning, it’s a personal and unsponsored post and it’s something she wants to express. See, I’m still clearly not over her. I groan in frustration and threw my phone beside the controller, as I slide down from the couch down to the floor like a kid who didn’t get the toy he wanted for Christmas. I lazily reached for the tub of ice cream on the coffee table beside me and looked at it, it’s half melted and sad, Just like me. I got up and brought back the sad dessert to my refrigerator and as soon as I got back, I saw myself on the mirror. Fuck, I looked horrible, my hair was a bird’s nest and my beard grew thicker each day. I’m actually glad my work doesn’t involve me showing up in an office because, I could get used to this look, I wanted the world to see how broken I am right now, I wanted her to see what happened to me. I surveyed around the room, it was a mess. Empty beer bottles sprawled over the living room, while chips were all opened and half eater on every chair of the room. The only good thing is that the mess only accumulated on one specific room, I don’t sleep on my bed anymore because I could still smell her on the sheets, and I never wanted that to leave.

A few more days passed and I finally did something not involving gloating: I ordered a cleaning service for the living room and specifically told them not to touch any other room. The past days reminded me that there’s more to life than her and I actually went outside today, grabbing my camera and slipping on my trusted hoodie which I use for work, I let the cleaning team fix my mess as I unwind by doing what I am really passionate about, taking pictures.

My best friend, Patrick, was actually proud of my decision, wishing he could support me but was stuck in his wife’s family gathering. I felt guilty that I didn’t talk to him the past months as I gloated, hearing someone who actually cares for me was a good feeling, especially after locking myself from the world after a miserable break-up.

As soon as I got to the park, I started taking simple pictures, flowers, children playing, flowing streams, and skyscrapers. It actually feels good to be back outside, seeing the beauty of the world not from a glass screen. I flipped through my camera roll and examined each photo I took. They really weren’t that good, but mixed with a nice back story, It could be a killer post. I chuckled as I rotate the dial of my camera and went a little too far back and I froze in the middle of the park. It was a picture of me and Bianca, my ex-girlfriend, whom I missed so much. It was taken on a gazebo at the park we visited back then and a 7 year old kid took the photo, We were travelling around so if the two of us were In a photo, it means we asked someone to take it for us. The said photo was where I saw myself smile the widest. She was wrapping her arms around me from behind and my eyes were closed, smiling while she was looking at me and laughing.

A single drop fell on the screen and I woke back to my senses, did I just cry? I looked around and saw children running about as I looked up into the sky and saw dark clouds forming. So much for going outside…

That evening, I actually had the inspiration to work. With the storm brewing up outside, sending tendrils of lightning across the sky, I decided that It was the perfect set-up to get something done. Hours flew by as I managed my schedules and checked my e-mails letting my clients know that I was alive and just hit a rough patch. I didn’t even realized that my entry got nominated on a competition I signed up for earlier that year, which was probably the little ray of sunlight on my gloomy skies. Just this evening, I managed to book 3 photo sessions for next week, which might give me something to get busy on while I do the inevitable: moving on.

Later that night, my phone buzzed a familiar tone. She was calling me. Rubbing the sleep off my eyes, and making sure I’m not dreaming, I hurriedly grabbed my phone. It’s her photo. She. Is. Actually. Calling. Me.

My heart sped up and I took deep breaths. I’m not dumb. I’m going to pretend I’m over her. I’m doing this for myself.

“Hello?” I croaked.

“Hello! Is this you Matt?” her voice reignited my mind. Shit. My mind went blank.

“Uh.. Yes. This is Matt. Who is .. Who is this?” I stuttered. I’m not a great pretender, but I did my best.

“This is Bianca, your uh.. friend. We’re still friends right?” she chuckles, the sound of an intercom could be heard from behind. As I thought, she’s in an airport.

“Oh. Of course, Bianca, we are.” I scoffed. Yeah. Friends. Would it hurt you to say we’re at least ex lovers?

“Listen, um.. I badly need your help. I’m at the airport right now and they canceled my flight due to the storm. I was about to look for nearby hotels but there’s a concert right now that filled up the rooms fast. Do you mind if I stay in there for a while?” my breathing sped up. No way, she’s spending the night here?

“Oh sure sure. I’ll come pick you up there, just wait for me..” I stuttered and ended the call, so much for being able to move on, I managed to make a fool of myself yet again. Without any more hesitations, I quickly prepared myself and drove to the airport.

Bianca

“I won’t regret it.” I whispered one last time as I sat on the waiting area by the entrance, hugging my phone close as I breathed out a heavy sigh. I can’t believe I’m in this situation, it’s like fate wanted me to give Matt a proper farewell, the one with no vague explanations and quick goodbyes. I closed my eyes and braced myself as sooner or later I’d be facing him. He sounded fine over the phone, except he felt nervous.. and hesitating. Maybe he’s busy and he has to make quick changes so he could cater to me. He shouldn’t, but knowing him, he would. Everyone who knows Matt knows he’s very accommodating.

“Bianca..” a voice whispered in front of me as I opened my eyes.. Matt stood there, with an umbrella open and another one hanging on his hand. He offered his other umbrella and carried my luggage behind me. I can’t help but wonder how he’s holding up and the longer I wonder, the more shy I become knowing that I caused a part of this change. Last time I saw him, he was this slightly chubby, always freshly shaven and a smile never leaves his face. Now, he looked like he lost a couple of pounds and he hasn’t shaved in days as his stubble grew around his mouth, and he’s not fooling me with that fake smile he plastered on his face. He should know that I could see through that smile of his.

I started to feel nervous as I entered his car, although nothing much changed, the consistency bothered me a lot. It felt the same when we were together, the smell, the same things in his dashboard and even these dust settling on the floor. Did he not use his car ever since? I shouldn’t be bothered by this, but I can’t help but be curious as to what he was up to all these months.

I admired how Matt handled this situation maturely, he kept casual on his questions, evading everything that would lead to the events of two months ago. I took the chance to ask how he was doing and surprisingly, he answered quickly that he took a lot of photo sessions and how he got nominated on some indie photography award. At least that talk shook off the worry that was growing in me and gave me hope that this night will turn out great rather than a disaster.

As soon as we walked into his room, he talked about how I should feel at home since I am his guest. He talked so nonchalant it felt like he rehearsed what he said, I tried to ignore his emotionless introduction as he led me to his bedroom, I glanced around and noticed that nothing really changed during my time here, and it probably means that he’s holding up pretty well. He settled my luggage beside the bed and he grabbed a pillow and some comforters, and single-handedly carried it outside.

“I’ll be sleeping by the couch if you need something. I mean, you probably know your way around, Good Night, Bianca.” he says as he slowly shut the door, leaving me alone in his room. I slowly plopped myself into his comfortable sheets and tried to shut my eyes, but I can’t help but smell my old shampoo in his pillow. Slightly bothered, I got up and took a whiff at the pillow and realized it was my smell, I quickly grabbed the other one and caught a whiff of Matt’s scent on it. He probably doesn’t use the whole bed when he sleeps, I thought to myself, dismissing any other thoughts and tried to sleep. I shifted positions every other minute until I couldn't take it anymore. I grew curious until the point that I wanted to confront him about it. It looks like the talk we’ve both been evading should happen.

Matt

I fluffed my pillows one last time and glanced at my bedroom door for the last time. She’s in there. I muttered to myself. I wanted to talk to her one last time, maybe ask some questions and say what I feel… But that won’t happen tonight, she has a lot of things on her plate right now and has to deal with rebooking a cancelled flight, I should probably stay out of her way. I heard the door creak and I quickly got up and locked my eyes on her, as she peeks at the door.

“Is there something wrong?” I asked.

“I’m just going to get some water.” She replied as he walked to the kitchen, I can't help but let my eyes follow her as she carefully moved to the fridge. She was wearing her favorite pajamas, pink with flower prints sprawled everywhere. I smiled as our gazes met.

“Feeling comfy?” I asked.

“Yeah, what about you?” She nodded and nudged toward my direction.

“Yes.” I replied shifting comfortably on my couch, grinning like a little kid. She let out a soft chuckle and entered back to the room. I smiled as she shut the door and drifted myself to sleep.

The cold burst of air crossed against my foot and made me shiver, this wasn’t supposed to happen, did I forget to close the windows? I slowly got up and looked around, I wasn’t dreaming, my ex is still here. I peeked at the balcony and saw her staring at the moon, I saw that she scratched the pajamas and is now wearing possibly only her underwear behind that silk robe, a robe she got when she competed that one competition overseas.

“Can’t sleep?” I asked her as I offered a mug of warm milk. She looked surprised and a faint blush on her face formed as it was illuminated by the moonlight.

“Actually, yeah. Just thinking of what’s ahead.” She smiled as she grabbed the mug, wrapping it with her hands and blowing the steam away and taking a sip. “You?”

“You opened the balcony and the cold breeze kinda made me shiver.” I laughed.

“I’m sorry.” She bowed and chuckled softly. “I never knew you were that sensitive to cold.”

“Well, I wasn’t until…” I answered while I looked down on myself, emphasizing how loose my shirt was.

“Oh.. I noticed that. What happened? You hit the gym? Oh, you’re trying to impress someone! Do tell!” she asked grabbing my shirt, I could feel the shakiness in her reply, as if it was invading uncharted territory.

I sighed. “I can’t lie to you… I didn’t really want to bring this up but… I forgot to eat. When you left… You can forget that detail. I just want this off my chest, that’s all.” My heart pounded through my chest as I told her.

She pursed her lips and averted her gaze elsewhere. “I’m sorry about that…” she said but I shushed her mouth with my index finger. “You don’t have to… It’s my fault.” I said, trying to save her from recalling what she did. I didn’t want that, I wanted her to know that I’ve been trying. I continued talking, I told her about the things I learned from her, and that I was willing to move forward with my life, I wanted her to keep the details of our break up to herself, so I could evaluate on myself and become a better person. Lastly, I told her that I still loved her up to this very moment, and how it might take a while for it to slowly fade away.

A tear fell from the corner of her eye and I wiped It off with my thumb as I cupped her soft warm cheeks, her hands slowly grabbed mine and slowly guided it to her heart, I felt it pound and of course, I felt her soft breasts as she let me feel it.

“I’m still at fault for letting you go like that… I didn’t even consider how it’d affect you…” her voice croaked and I can’t help but embrace her and rub her back.

“I guess, it’s just like that sometimes, Bianca. Words don’t need to explain everything.” I whispered to her ear as I slowly accepted that we were never getting back together. I have lost the war for her heart and at least I did it with her wrapped around my arms.

She then looked up to me, reaching her arms on my cheek, gently rubbing my stubble. She then pulled my face close to hers as our lips met each other. I hesitated at first, but I’m only human and I still loved her, so as I felt her tongue beg to enter me, I tilted my head and wrapped my tongue against her, tasting her again possibly for the last time. I gripped her waist, slowly sliding my hand to her ass and held it tight pulling her body close to me. This action made her moan while she was inside my mouth and I closed my eyes wishing this moment would never end. Bianca quickly hoisted herself toward me and wrapped her legs on my hips which led me off balance. I quickly regained composure as I blindly led her to the couch and we both crashed on it while she was straddling on my lap.

We almost never had the time for sex, it was either she was too tired or I was and most of the time, she's away for trainings. If I was given the chance to rate all of our sexy moments together, this was possibly one of the best, yet it also is one of the worst, as it was the last one. Our make out session was full of soft kisses on every angle possible, smacking sounds echoed across the room along with soft pants and groans escaping from our mouths. My hands clung on to her ass most of the time, slowly rubbing her soft ass cheeks and stretching it outward during long kisses. She didn't stop me, so I started kissing her chest area as I let her perky nipples peek through her bra.

All I got from her is a smile and a sparkle in her eye saying 'go ahead' and I began to suck it and lick around her nipples, her soft moans felt rewarding as her hand guides my free hand to play with the other one. I hungrily sucked on both her nipples, changing course quickly, giving each of her breasts undivided attention. This went on for quite a while, until she moved back and pushed me back, her hand trailed through my chest, teasingly grazing through my nipples and slid down to my stomach, gripping the hem of my shirt and pulling it upward. All I did was oblige and she lifted my shirt off and tossed it behind her. She then left my chest and grabbed my shoulders, guiding me to rest my back on the couches' arm rest as she crawled towards me, giving my chest a soft kiss, slowly trailing down just below my belly button. Her eyes looked at me and our gazes met, she smiled menacingly as she grips my cock through my pants and slowly rubs it. I let out short and fast pants as she slowly yanked my pants down while I quickly pulled it off my feet and kicked it away.

Her index finger slowly circled around my shaft as she spread my precum around it and moved her mouth and began to devour it whole. My mind began to blur as I let out a huge sigh, my hand moved her hair and tucked it behind her ear. Her warm tongue welcomed my cock as it licked the shaft like an ice cream cone, then started circling around it finishing her act by going deeper into her mouth. Fuck, I wanted to cum so bad but I shouldn't, so as soon as I felt it drawing close, I yanked her hair up. She didn't flinch. I was expecting her to be mad at me, but all she did was flash a wide grin on her face and all I could ever do is slowly get up and quickly push her to the other side of the couch and pin her.

I pressed my whole body into her and my hand quickly unclasped her bra, setting her impressively huge tits free. Grabbing her breast, I quickly leaned into her mouth and kissed her angrily, growling inside her as our tongues clashed inside each other. My hand slowly let go of her chest and my mouth slowly trailed down to her dripping wet pussy, angrily pulling her panties down and tossed it behind me. I started playing with her pussy by giving it soft licks, my tongue barely touching her inner senses, then I applied a little bit pressure, followed by steady repeated licks on one area while my fingers spread open her labia.

I stopped and guided her to sit on the couch properly as I sat next to her, spreading her legs wide and let my fingers enter her, feeling the warmth and tightness of her pussy. I stopped a moan from escaping her mouth as I kissed her while my hands played inside her. I picked up the pace and all she could do was pant and cup my face, letting me kiss her as she moans inside my mouth while I continue to pleasure her using my fingers. I grinned at her and kissed her tits, my heart racing as I felt her getting excited at the effect I have on her right now.

"Oh. My. Fuck. Matt." she moaned in between pants, her voice quavered giving me the motivation to move my fingers faster, as I hear the sound of her pussy and my fingers compliment each other. She arched her back as I steadily pleasured my mouth on her right breast.

"So good.." she whimpered as I felt her wetness in my fingers and moved my lips back to hers, my fingers now moved slowly inside her. She panted and straddled herself on my lap, facing me with lust sparklin on her eyes as she gripped my cock and guided it slowly in her. Her wetness easily drenched my shaft as my mind went hazy when she quickly sat on my cock, letting out a soft yelp as she bounced on top of me. She started it slowly, letting us moan 'haa' at different intervals, as she circles her hips while slowly sitting on my cock. All I could do was open my mouth in pleasure, while looking at her maneuvering my cock like a cowgirl.

My mind will never forget this memory of her, riding on my cock and her tits bouncing in front of me while I held onto her waist. Ever since she picked up her pace, our soft 'haa's turned into loud 'aah's as the sound her ass clapping with my thighs rang on my ears. She continued to bounce as she leaned forward to me, letting our foreheads meet and eyes steadily lock in each other.

"Holy shit, you're still amazing." I whispered and all she could reply was a kiss, another long kiss while my hips met with her bounces. I felt my orgasm close, so I broke the kiss to warn her. "I'm about to c-" she cut me off with another kiss, as I felt my cock release waves of hot cum inside her, feeling her tighten me as we slowly ease the pace until it stopped. As soon as I pulled my cock, I saw her pussy drip down my cum, a smile escaping my face while I pant.

"I guess this is goodbye?" I whispered as I asked her for one last kiss, and she obliged, giving me the closure I needed to move on. Funny story is, we had more steamy sex after that, in the kitchen, on the bed and even on the floor, I even sneaked into her while she showered. But at the end of the day, I managed to delete her name from my contacts, along with unsubscribing on her notifications and washing the sheets she used to sleep on. Later that day, I looked at the sky as her plane flew past the building and took a deep breath. I guess first love never dies, but then again not all first loves are not meant for you.

[flowerfan2]

Part of You Indefinitely - Ch. 2

Chapter 2 of my Schitt’s Creek h/c fic is here!  TW for injury, hospitalization, medical issues.  Read it on A03 or below.

I’ve adjusted the chapter count as I got it ready to post.  There’s a lot of h/c goodness in here, please check it out - if you haven’t seen Schitt’s Creek, you’ll probably like the fic anyway if you like h/c, but I beg of you, watch the show.  It’s a joyful balm in this difficult time.

Chapter 2

Alexis has gone to find them something to eat for dinner when it finally happens.  David looks over and Patrick’s eyes are open.  He’s looking right at him.

“Patrick, oh my god, Patrick.”  David leans close, one hand cradling Patrick’s head, careful to avoid the bandage. “Honey, hey, it’s okay, you’re okay.” He’s babbling, fingers roaming over Patrick’s face, but Patrick’s eyes just blink at him and then drift closed.  

David watches intently for a few minutes and practically begs Patrick to open his eyes again, but despite his urging, Patrick’s eyes stay shut.  Finally he rests his head against Patrick’s and sighs.  “If this is to get me back for all those times I didn’t want to get out of bed, message received.  I get it.”  He presses a kiss to Patrick’s cheek.  “Thanks for opening your eyes for me.  Do it again soon, okay?”

David presses the buzzer for the nurse (thankfully it’s not the annoying one from this morning, someone else has come on duty) who comes in and listens to David explain what happened, and she smiles and says she’ll let the doctors know.  Alexis gets the update as well, when she returns with their food.  David actually eats, now, even letting go of Patrick’s hand for a few minutes while he inhales the mediocre burger and fries Alexis brought him.

“This has to be good, right?”  David asks, watching Alexis daintily pick a strawberry out of her fruit cup.  “Patrick’s waking up, it’s less than twelve hours since he fell and he’s waking up?”

Alexis glances at Patrick, who is lying motionless on the bed, and makes a face like she has to tell David about a stain on his favorite sweater.  “He doesn’t really seem to be waking up, David.”

“He is,” David says stubbornly.  Patrick opened his eyes, and he looked at him.  He <i>saw</i> him.  It wasn’t just an automatic thing, or a muscle spasm.  It was Patrick.

Alexis’ phone buzzes and she turns to it, and David sets his empty take-out box aside and resumes his position holding Patrick’s hand.  He rubs over the spot on Patrick’s fourth finger where there is still a little indentation from his wedding ring.  David doesn’t like that empty space, but the ring is safe in his wallet for now.  No one bothered to explain exactly why Patrick couldn’t keep his ring on, he’s not having surgery or anything, it just seems to be a hospital rule, but it’s one that doesn’t seem worth arguing about in the grand scheme of things.

“Marcy and Clint will be in port tomorrow night,” Alexis says.  

“What?”

“Somewhere in Russia.  I told them we’ll keep them posted.  They can try to get a flight here the next day, if they need to, but there aren’t that many options.”

David frowns.  “From Russia?”  He’s so confused.

“They’re on a cruise, David.  Vancouver to Tokyo, with eight port stops in Alaska and then some unpronounceable place in Russia before they get to Japan.”  Alexis is reading the cruise itinerary off her phone, and she holds it out to show him.  “Right now, I guess they’re just in the ocean part.”

“Okay, one, how did you find that out, and two, why didn’t you tell me you were talking to them?”  David grips Patrick’s hand harder, wishing Patrick would grip it back, as he usually does whenever David starts to spiral.  What are Patrick’s parents going to say when they find out what happened?  Will they blame David?  If Patrick hadn’t met David, he’d never have been at the store on a substandard step ladder trying to fix faulty electrical systems that David should have called an electrician to fix ages ago.

“I contacted the cruise line, and they told me how to get in touch with the Brewers.  They’re on a ship, David, not on the moon.”  Alexis doesn’t answer the second part of his question, probably assuming, correctly, that it doesn’t really need an answer.

“They send their love, by the way,” Alexis says.  “To you both.”  She rests her head on his shoulder.  The scent of her hair products is oddly comforting, reminding him of waiting outside the bathroom door back at the motel, complaining about how much time Alexis was taking in the shower.  “He’s going to be okay, David.  Just hang in there.”

“I’m trying,” David says, bringing Patrick’s hand up to his lips and pressing a kiss to his knuckles.  “I’m really trying.”

******

That night, David gets into bed with Patrick, propping himself up on one side and sliding his arm carefully under Patrick’s neck.  It’s not really a sustainable position, and he figures that the nurse will kick him out when she comes back in an hour or so.  But Alexis has gone back to their house to sleep, and there’s no one there at the moment to tell him not to do it.  He just wants to get as close to Patrick as he can, to stretch out next to his body and let him know that David is there with him.

It’s dim in the room, but not anywhere near fully dark, and David doesn’t fool himself into thinking that he’s going to get any sleep.  He works on taking longer, deeper breaths, and trying to quiet his mind.  There’s stubble on Patrick’s skin where David’s nose is pressed against his cheek, and Patrick’s chest rises and falls soothingly under his hand.  He still smells like Patrick, under the antiseptic hospital odors.

David thinks back to all the times that Patrick has reassured him, has been there for him when he was anxious, or insecure, when David couldn’t quite comprehend the reality of Patrick’s love for him.  Patrick has always known just what to say, no matter the craziness of the situation or the cracks in David’s damaged heart.  

“You’ll always be a part of me, I’m part of you indefinitely,” David whisper-sings, off pitch and stuttering.  “You’ll always be my baby.”  He closes his eyes and thinks back to their wedding day, when Patrick sang to him, brave and sure as he stood in front of all their friends and family and pledged to be David’s forever.  He’d give anything right now to go back to that day, when his biggest problems were the rain and Alexis pretending she wasn’t wearing a wedding gown.

David falls off the bed sometime during the night, bringing a bevy of staff running.  It’s briefly humiliating, but then David realizes that Patrick’s eyes are open again, and he immediately forgets everything else.

A nurse is talking to Patrick and adjusting the bed while another one checks the monitors, and soon a doctor is there, too.  David is relegated to the back of the room and he can’t see what’s going on.  He wants to insist that they let him closer, let him talk to Patrick, but his voice seems frozen in his throat.

The doctor turns and takes pity on him, beckoning him over, and David grabs Patrick’s hand.  “Hey, hi.”  He feels like he’s going to cry.  “Patrick.  Hi.”

Patrick blinks up at him, and his mouth moves, his voice a barely audible rasp.  “Hi.”

“Oh my god,” David wheezes out, tears rapidly filling his eyes.  “You’re okay.”

Patrick gazes at him.  “David?” He sounds like he’s got cotton balls in his mouth.  “What’s wrong?”

David wipes his eyes with his free hand and looks around, hardly able to believe Patrick is saying this to him.  “I was so worried,” he says, bringing Patrick’s hand to his mouth and kissing it.  “Patrick, oh my god, I was so worried.”

The doctor moves him aside again and David stands against the window, arms wrapped tight around his chest as the doctor talks to Patrick, moving his limbs and checking his heartbeat.  David bites his lip so hard he can taste blood.

“Well, this is definitely good news,” the doctor says, making a notation on Patrick’s chart.  “There seems to be some significant muscle weakness that we need to keep an eye on, but it’s early yet.  We’ll run some tests in the morning.  Best thing for both of you now is to get some rest.”  The doctor gives David a look that probably means he wants David to go home, but that’s not about to happen.

“I’ll make sure he goes to sleep soon,” David says instead, sliding closer so that he can take Patrick’s hand again.  

The doctor narrows his eyes and David readies himself to argue his case, but then the doctor just shrugs and pats Patrick’s foot.  “All right.  Good to have you back, Patrick.”

David sits down in the chair and just stares at his husband for a moment, watching his eyes flutter shut and then pop back open again.  Patrick is tired, and as much as David wants to pour out his heart to him right now, that’s not what Patrick needs.  

“Hey, baby, it’s okay,” David says softly.  “You’re going to be okay, don’t worry.”

Patrick looks at him, his gaze searching.  “I don’t feel very okay.”  Patrick reaches for David, his arm falling back to the bed before David grabs his hand and holds it to his chest.

“You heard the doctor, it’s just muscle weakness, you just need some rest.”  David isn’t sure that’s exactly what the doctor said, but it’s close enough for now.    “Close your eyes.  I’ll be right here.”

“They said I hit my head?”  Patrick asks, and he moves as if to touch his head, but his arm doesn’t really go anywhere.

“You were on the stepladder in the back room, fixing the light.  You fell.”

Patrick’s eyes widen.  “Was I….” He seems to be searching for the word.

“Electrocuted, yeah, they think so,” David says, watching as fear flits across Patrick’s face.  “But that’s just what made you fall, you didn’t even get burned or anything.  It’s really the head injury that they’re worried about.”

This doesn’t seem to make Patrick feel any better.  Wearing designer shoes doesn’t make putting your foot in your mouth any harder to do, David should know, he’s done it often enough.  “Don’t think about that now, just get some rest, okay?  We can talk more tomorrow.”

As David watches a tear slowly leaks out of the corner of Patrick’s eye, running straight down to the pillow.

“Oh, honey, it’s okay, it’s gonna be okay.”  David slides his arms gently around Patrick’s shoulders and presses his fact into Patrick’s neck.  

“I’m scared,” Patrick breathes out, and David holds him tighter.  He doesn’t know how to tell Patrick that the scariest part is past – that since Patrick woke up knowing his own name and who and where he is, David can finally breathe again.

It could have been worse, so much worse, the range of devastating that could go along with <i>head trauma</i> makes David ill just to consider it.  But Patrick is here now, awake and talking to him and he’s going to be okay.

“I know it’s scary, baby, I know how you feel.  But I promise you, no matter what happens, I’ll be right here.  We’ll get through it, okay?  Whatever happens.”

“Love you,” Patrick whispers, and David shudders, not wanting to think about how close he came to never hearing Patrick utter those words again.

“Love you too, Patrick, so much.  So much.”

******

Patrick looks unbearably anxious in the morning, when they wake him up early to take him for another round of tests.  David hates to see him upset, and hates even more that he can’t go with him for whatever medical misery he’s in for. It’s so unusual for Patrick to be like this, weepy and nervous – it’s much more David’s style.  It makes David’s heart ache.

Alexis turns up shortly after nine o’clock, looking unfairly perky in an off-the shoulder flowy mini-dress.  He’s almost glad to know that her success in the PR world hasn’t changed her I-just-came-from-Coachella vibe.  At least something is normal today.

She shoves a box at him as she sits down.  “Fresh cinnamon rolls.  And don’t eat them all, save one for Patrick.”

David had texted Alexis about Patrick being awake, so at least he doesn’t have to bring her up to speed on that particular development (she had responded with the appropriate – in this case -  overflow of enthusiastic emojis).   Alexis has also continued to handle communications with Marcy and Clint.  “Did you connect with Patrick’s parents?”

Alexis nods, pulling out her phone.  “They’d like to talk to him, maybe tomorrow?  But they won’t book a flight yet.”  A strange look passes over Alexis’s face, and she twirls a strand of hair around her fingers.

“Alexis?”

“What?”

“What aren’t you telling me?”

Alexis shakes her head at him.  “Nothing, David.”

“Alexis…”

She snorts.  “Fine.  But I really think the anticipation will just make it worse.”

David sighs.  Patrick’s parents aren’t rushing back, but…  “Mom and Dad are coming home, aren’t they?”

“I told them not to, but they were already on the plane.”

“Why did you have to tell them anything?”

“It wasn’t even me,” Alexis whines.  “Or, at least, it wasn’t me first.  It was Stevie.”

Oh god, David thinks, wincing as he realizes he hasn’t responded to his best friend’s texts.  Or anyone else’s.  “She’s going to be mad at me, isn’t she?”

Alexis gives him a puzzled look.  “Why would Stevie be mad at you?”

So many reasons, David thinks, and none that he wants to discuss with Alexis.  “I’m going for a walk.”  David abruptly stands up, but Alexis catches his arm before he has a chance to get very far.  A crowded hospital room doesn’t allow for much of a graceful exit.

“Wait, at least take this.”  She hands him a leather carry-on.  “I stopped by the house and brought you a change of clothes.  That sweater is…” she wrinkles her nose.

David tilts his head up, blinking away what cannot possibly be more tears.  “Thanks, I guess.”

“There’s a bathroom down the hall where you can shower.”

David recovers and glares at her.  “Do you know what hospital soap will do to my skin?”

“I brought some products from the store, too,” Alexis replies, a smirk on her face.

David can’t think of an appropriate retort, so he just takes the bag from Alexis and winds his way out of the room.  Alexis is winning at this, it’s not fair that she’s handling everything so well, especially when David feels like he can barely function.  Everyone’s going to want to know what happened, why he didn’t keep them informed.  They’re all going to show up at the hospital and ask questions and pester him when all he can think about is <i>Patrick</i>.

He knows their parents have their best interests at heart, and their friends will just want to help, but he’s also keenly aware that he does not have the bandwidth to manage other peoples’ anxiety right now.  He’s having enough trouble with his own.

David forces himself to shave and shower, figuring that smelling slightly less sweaty has to be a good thing, and does his best to style his hair.  Alexis has packed him some of his favorite clothes, a comfortable but still stylish pair of black jeans, and a fuzzy black Givenchy sweater.  David tries not to look at a spot that is very likely Patrick’s blood on the cropped pants he had been wearing; he can’t quite understand how he hadn’t noticed it until now.  Those pants get stuffed into the garbage can.  

He’s sitting on the ugly tiled floor of the bathroom, trying to keep himself from freaking out over the memory of cradling his husband’s bloody head in his hands, when Alexis texts him.  Patrick is back in the room, and she wants to know if David will be joining them anytime soon.  David pulls himself together and heads down the hall.

There’s a doctor standing next to Patrick’s bed, talking to Alexis, but David has eyes only for his husband.  Patrick looks possibly even worse than yesterday, horribly pale, with bags under his eyes and a look of borderline panic on his face.  David immediately crouches down next to him and puts his arms around his shoulders as best he can.  He doesn’t even say anything, he’s run out of pointless platitudes, he just presses his face against Patrick’s and holds him.  

After a long moment he can feel Patrick relax, and he pulls back slightly, enough to see that something approaching a smile is tugging at Patrick’s lips.

“That was a very dramatic good morning,” Patrick says, slow but clear.

David feigns a confidence he isn’t feeling right now.  “I’m a very dramatic person.”

“That you are,” Patrick replies.

David takes a big breath in and lets it out, sitting down in the chair next to the bed but keeping his hands on Patrick.  The doctor and Alexis have left, either to give him and Patrick some space or go make out in the supply room like Grey’s Anatomy wannabes, David doesn’t really care which.

“So, how was your morning?”  he asks.

“Better than falling off a ladder.”

David huffs.  “That’s a pretty low bar.”  He weaves his fingers between Patrick’s.  “I guess I should have talked to the doctor about…” he waves his hand.

“He didn’t say much,” Patrick says.  “They’re keeping me here at least another day.”

“How do you feel?”  David doesn’t say “can you move your arms and legs?” because that seems somehow too frightening to ask, but it’s what he means, and Patrick knows it.

Patrick shrugs, and David can see how he’s trying to keep the nervousness off his face.  “The ‘muscle weakness’ is still there.  I’ll probably need physical therapy.”  He reaches up to David, his arm shaky.  His fingers brush David’s cheek, and then his arm drops back down.  “I won’t be stocking shelves anytime soon.”

“That’s hardly important,” David practically snaps, but Patrick doesn’t seem appeased.

“I don’t know, I think not being able to move is pretty bad.”

“Patrick, do you not… do you not understand what could have happened?”

Patrick shifts, looking miserable, and David feels all the anger go out of him.  He glances around the room, and then awkwardly climbs into the bed.  Patrick does his best to ignore him but David persists, shuffling around until he has an arm under Patrick’s neck, his other holding him around his waist.  It’s like cuddling in their bed at home, except for the bandage on Patrick’s head, the needle in his hand, the horrible hospital smells, and a thousand other absolutely terrible things.  But it’s them, pressed up close to each other, and so it’s still good.

“I thought we might never be here again,” David says softly into the space between them, as Patrick shyly turns to meet his eyes.  “You were electrocuted, Patrick.  When I saw you on the floor, shaking and bleeding… and then you didn’t wake up…” He hears his voice cracking, but there’s nothing he can do about it.  “You didn’t wake up when I talked to you.”  He blinks, hard, but the tears slide out anyway.  “They didn’t know if you’d ever wake up.”

Patrick’s eyes are wide, and he presses forward, kissing David’s nose, and then finding his lips.  “I’m sorry, baby.  I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Just don’t do it again,” David croaks out, and Patrick nuzzles against his cheek.  

“I won’t.  I promise.”

They both know it’s not really a promise that Patrick can make, but it will have to do for now.

[ajokeformur-ray]

@hotpacino​ Hey there, Erika, my luv! If your requests are still open I have a request for you. This Thursday I will be having a very important exam and I am nervous as hell... So, could I please have some headcanons for J and Pat comforting their s/o about an impeding exam, because she has severe anxiety and depression and she feels like she is gonna fail, and has a meltdown about it? I know it's super specific and if it's not something you would enjoy writing, feel free to ignore this!!! 😘😘😘

Hi, darling! I’m so sorry that this is a few days late; I hope that you enjoy it! How did your exam go? Sending you love and strength!💕 I wasn’t sure if this was a poly request or individual sets; so I’ve done individual skksks if you wanted poly let me know and I’ll whip something up for you! <3

This is a repost; the initial format for the piece screwed up lmao so I’ve just moved everything over into a blank post and done it this way.

Total word count for the two sets: 1, 331.

Pandaaaaa ~ // wc: 655.

(he’s cheering you on!)

To say that you were on edge was an understatement. You had an exam coming up and you were sure that you were going to fail, even with how hard you were working.

You spent your days with your nose buried in various textbooks, your fingers almost permanently stained with black inks and bright colours from the highlights which you had been using. You were definitely sleep deprived and running on caffeine and spite. You had to pass your exam. You had to.

J had been a silent observer throughout your revision process. He was pleased with your dedication and how hard you were working, even though he didn’t necessarily understand why you were working quite so hard. Though education was important, there were other ways to learn, other ways to live, than academics.

But. J would support you, and he showed this in small ways. He made sure that you ate, that you drank, that you rested when you needed to and, most importantly, that you slept the required minimum of eight hours every night.

This was non-negotiable and J wasn’t afraid to use cold, hard facts to get you to rest.

“Ya’ain’t gonna’ get any more infor-ma-tion in that brain o’yours, Y/N. Get, ah - get some rest, hm?”

“A-ta-ta, no. No talkin’ like that, ya’ hear? That’s my Y/N ya bein’ rude to. And I don’t like it. Not. One. Bit.”

Eventually, though, with you working non stop and not allowing your brain any rest, the inevitable happened. J knew that it was coming, he saw all the signs, recognised the microexpressions.

He stood by, prepared to catch your fall, but J never got in your way; you were a grown person, you knew what you were doing, and he would leave you to it, especially if you weren’t going to take the advice and care he had been consistently given you.

You had a melt down and started to sob over your textbooks. But still were you studying, even with tears streaming down your face and falling upon your textbook pages and notes like rain.

J cooed mockingly, unsurprised by this. He had warned you to slow it down. “Oh, shush shush shush, Y/N.”

As your sobs increased with the sound of J’s voice, he stood behind you and bent over your body, his semi-greasy curls coming into your line of sight as he rested his chin on your shoulder, an arm snaking around your waist. “I got’cha, doll. Easy, hm?”

His other hand came up from where it was by his side and stole your pen. He chucked it carelessly across the table and then shoved your materials forward, away from you. J’s chin rested atop your head as his arms came around you like a cage, while you remained sat at your desk.

J’s breathing was deep and steady, his movements exaggerated, and you understood. You copied his breathing, felt his touch, heard his low soothing shushing, and allowed J to calm you with his own body.

“Feel better?”

You nodded, “Th-thank you, J.”

“Uh-huh. So, ah - are ya’ gonna stop now? Ya’ve done all ya’ can. I’m proud o’ya.  Get, ah - some rest. No more workin’.” J tapped your temple teasingly. You couldn’t see the proud smile on his face but you could hear it and it made all the difference to you. “If it ain’t in there now, then it ain’t gonna’ be so why bother stressin’, hm?”

Harsh, but true. J only wanted the best for you, and as you nodded and leaned back in your chair, J dropped a tender kiss to the top of your head and surrounded your entire body with his own.

Shit, his back would hurt later, bent over you like this, but it was worth it if it meant that you wouldn’t want to keep working. You had done your best, and he was very proud of you.

Pretty boyyyyy ~ // wc: 676.

(a reminder)

It was no secret that Pat just wasn’t the academic type.

He skipped classes, never did his homework, only attended detentions because a) he didn’t want to get expelled and b) had no one to go home to anyway, and just didn’t care about letters on a piece of paper.

His attitude towards things which others deemed to be important but didn’t matter to him was so liberating and you wished that you could have even a third of the devil-may-care attitude which Pat did.

Oh, but you were so tired. You had barely had a break over the last few weeks and you were constantly working; you only stopped to sleep for a few hours before you were back at it.

Pat was so proud of you for working as hard as you were and he was in awe of your strength, but he was also very concerned for you.

Every time you sat down to study, Pat was right there with you. He took such good care of you that often did it leave you in tears.

He brought you your favourite hot drink every time you finished one, brought you (mostly) healthy snacks, rubbed your shoulders, pressed kisses to your neck and shoulders when he walked past...

Pat was there for you. He was immensely worried for you due to your anxiety and depression and a natural cafetaker was he now thanks to the year which he had spent taking care of his grandfather, so it was something which he didn’t even have to really think about. Pat just... took care of you.

Neither of you were surprised by your meltdown; Pat had been waiting for it, so intuitive and so intelligent was he, and you had felt the incoming tidal wave.

You were overwhelmed and you were convinced that you were going to fail.

Your breaths came in harsh gasps, tears streaming down your face. “I can’t do it, Pat, I’m gonna fail, I can’t - “

Pat was out of his seat like a bullet from a gun as he dashed over to you, “Hey, hey, come on, Y/N - breathe, love. With me - “

Pat wrapped one arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his body, and the fingers of his other hand interlocked with yours. He breathed in deeply, held it for eight seconds and exhaled for the same length of time.

Full lips feathered kisses to the side of your face as he did breathing exercises with you. “You’re so smart - “ A kiss, “hard working,” Another kiss, “and you’re gonna’ pass,” A whimper from you. “No, hey - look at me, Y/N,” He waited until you looked at him before he continued, “It’s not the end of the world if you fail, okay? It’s just a grade. It doesn’t define you. You can do it.”

“Th-thank you,” You managed a teary eyed, weak smile for your koala and he flashed you a grin.

“You’re welcome. Now, what d’ya say we take a nap, hm? You’ve barely slept and I know that’s why you’re a bit more emotional right now. This can all wait - “ Pat nodded at your work and helped you up, tugging you to the bedroom, “My Y/N’s way more important.”

You smiled and wiped your tears away with a shaky hand, trusting that Pat knew what was best for you. You curled up in Pat’s arms, cushioned atop him. His lips pressed kisses all over the top of your head. “Just sleep, Y/N. I won’t let you go.”

And so it was, surrounded by Pat and all that he was, that you napped, s safe in the knowledge that when you awoke, you would be okay. You could do it, you knew you could.

Pat always made you feel like you were on top of the world, and when you couldn’t believe in yourself would he do it for you; he loved you and he spent his every day proving that to you with his actions again and again and again.

Destructive raccoon boii(tm)  @jokershyena   @anyatheladyclown   @joker-daddy    @rinbyo    @imightaswellnotexistatall    @vladtoly    @joker-is-my-hero    @liz-rdwitch   @enigmaticandunstable        @ledgerskitten    @tsukiakarinobara    @germansarechill      @ezziesworld    @antonija89   @acw1   @sadjesterautumn      @mermaleizroseglasses   @justawriterinprogress     @truthbehindthemysteries  @hotpacino  @call-me-harley-quinn

Patrick Verona @jokershyena @loveletterstoledger @itsthejoker@royaleclownx    @tsukiakarinobara    @arianatheangelworld@antonija89  @hotpacino  @call-me-harley-quinn

[rainbowwing251]

Umm... If you don’t mind, headcanons of both Corrins...? You can say no if you want...

I bet people are getting tired of me saying things like this, but I haven’t played Fire Emblem Fates. However, I think I have obtained enough knowledge of the games to create headcanons for both of the Corrins.

But before I begin, I want to warn everyone that this answer may contain spoilers for Fire Emblem Fates. I don’t know how big these spoilers are, but please proceed with caution.

With that, onto the headcanons.

Before I get started with the tickle-related headcanons, I want to give a few non-tickle-related headcanons:

I tend to refer to male Corrin as Corrin and female Corrin as Kamui (the Japanese name for both of the Corrins). This is meant to clear up any potential confusion that may occur if I have to write anything that involves putting the two of them together. I believe I have mentioned this in my St. Patrick’s Day post, but this is just a reminder.

In my headcanons, Corrin has sided with Hoshido, and Kamui has sided with Nohr. For anyone that doesn’t know much about Fire Emblem Fates, this means that Corrin has chosen the Birthright route, and Kamui has chosen the Conquest route.

So with those headcanons out of the way, onto the tickle-related headcanons.

To begin these headcanons, I would like to state that both Corrin and Kamui are lees in my headcanons. The two of them are also the second most ticklish out of all of the Fire Emblem reps. First place goes to Marth, and third place goes to Roy.

Now, onto the individual headcanons, starting with Corrin.

As I mentioned a few sentences ago, Corrin is a lee, but he wasn’t like that at first.

He wasn’t given that much affection when he was younger, but Mikoto would occasionally tickle him when she had the time to be with him. Of course, that was before her death. Sumeragi, his “father”, would also tickle from time to time prior to his death (there’s a reason why I put father in quotations, but that is a major spoiler for the Revelations route in Fates).

Long story shot, he is very touch-starved, but he doesn’t realize this until his return to Hoshido after 15 years.

Upon learning that their adopted brother is ticklish, the majority of the Hoshiden siblings will target Corrin whenever they get the desire to tickle someone. Sakura, Ryoma, and Hinoka are Corrin’s main lers. Azura will also go after him from time to time.

Takumi is not a part of this list because he could care less about tickling, especially if it involves Corrin.

Of course, Sakura, Ryoma, and Hinoka are not the only lers that he has. In Smash, his main lers are Kamui, Chrom, Robin, and on rare occasions, Ike.

Corrin’s worst spots are his feet, sides, and ears. If he is about to transform into a dragon, he will expose another weak spot, which is the base of his tail.

He doesn’t fight back all that much when he’s being tickled. He doesn’t see a reason to do so, since tickling fulfills his desire for physical affection.

Be careful when you tickle him, though, because he might try to tickle you back. This guy is a sucker for tickle fights, and his love for them came from the constant tickle fights that he used to get into with his siblings.

Considering how naive Corrin is, he believed that tickling was harmless. No one ever told him that tickle torture was a thing, and he had to learn about it the hard way when he was nearly tickled into unconsciousness by his Nohr siblings. After that incident, he was not comfortable with tickling for a long while. Luckily, his Hoshiden siblings were able to get him to warm up to tickling again.

As a ler, Corrin is incredibly playful. He is a big fan of nibbling on people’s skin to tickle them, but if his lee is uncomfortable with that, he’ll use light tickles instead.

If nibbling is allowed, then he will gently nibble on people’s earlobes. If he doesn’t get a reaction, then his next target will be the neck. If he still doesn’t get a reaction after that, then he’ll go for their stomach.

Overtime, he learns that nibbling on someone’s stomach will almost always cause a reaction, so he ends up targeting that spot first.

He will also use his tail to tickle other people if he’s about to turn into a dragon. He loves to poke other people with his tail, finding joy in the way they flinch.

In Hoshido, Corrin’s main lees are Sakura and Ryoma. In Smash, his main lees are Kamui, Marth, Roy, Chrom, and on some occasions, Lucina.

He’ll also go after Shulk and Pit if he’s in the mood for tickling someone by nibbling on their skin. These two are VERY weak to nibbling, and this makes the two of them a perfect target in Corrin’s eyes.

Moving on to Kamui, she is also a lee, as I mentioned towards the beginning of these headcanons. However, her experiences with tickling are different from Corrin’s.

Kamui is also quite touch-starved, and she didn’t even notice it at first. Or at least, that was the case for a small portion of her life, until she was kidnapped by Garon and brought to Nohr.

As she grew up in Nohr, she learned about tickle torture from her siblings. The good news is that they would never use this against Kamui, and they would tickle her as if she was their biological sister.

Unfortunately, Camilla, Leo, Xander, and Elise made a bit of a mistake by teaching Kamui about tickle torture before they ever started tickling her. The whole concept had somewhat tainted the concept of tickling for her. She still loved it when she got tickled by her “siblings”, but in the back of her mind, she was fearful of a possible tickle torture session. As a result of this fear, she will do her best to escape from her siblings whenever they got the desire to tickle someone.

It took a long time for the Nohrian family to convince Kamui that they wouldn’t subject her to tickle torture. After a ton of tickle sessions from them, Kamui finally realized that she was safe from a tickle torture session, and she began to experience lee moods for the first time in her life.

Kamui’s worst spots include her feet (the only worst spot she shares with her male counterpart), her stomach, and her hips. When she’s about to transform into a dragon, she’ll end up exposing another worst spot: the base of her wings.

She is a bit more fighty than Corrin is, mainly because of her fear of tickle torture. If you tickle her enough times, she’ll eventually realize that you are not a threat to her, and she will try her best to restrain herself while you tickle her.

If you are tickling the base of her wings, watch out. Her wings will flap a lot while you’re tickling her there, and she might hit you in the face on accident. If that does happen, then she’ll apologize for it.

Unlike her male counterpart, she doesn’t like to tickle her ler back, unless she knows them very well. She’s afraid that this move will turn an ordinary tickle attack into a tickle torture session.

In Nohr, her main lers are Xander, Camilla, Leo, and Elise. Just like Corrin, Azura might tickle her on rare occasions.

In Smash, her main lers are Corrin, Chrom, Robin, Ike, and on some occasions, Lucina.

She isn’t as playful as Corrin is when she is the ler, but she still finds enjoyment out of making others laugh.

She doesn’t nibble people like her male counterpart does. Instead, she uses the claws that she gets when she’s about to turn into a dragon. She’ll be sure to keep the tickling light and gentle, which works wonders on those who are weak to that type of tickling.

She also enjoys poking people with her tail, just like Corrin.

In Nohr, her main lees are Elise and Leo. In Smash, she will target Corrin, Marth, Roy, Chrom, and Robin.

[fr33ksncr33ps]

Country Roads, Take Me Home

Hey so I got an idea from the comment section of this song to write a thing and I was like >:) spooky time

So thank you, No This Is Patrick, for the idea/prompt lmao

I should preface this by saying I don’t normally post my writing online, but I thought this was p decent so why not

TW: horror, woods, car crash depiction. roadside grave site, description of gore, description of blood, mention of slavery and the civil war

If there is anything you want me to tag or censor, please let me know!

 As a child, I had always hated Kentucky. It was my home state- I had a right to hate it. My friends and I used to call it ‘the place where nothing ever happens”, which was true, in a sense. Nothing ever really did happen. 

 One thing I didn’t hate about Kentucky, though, was the scenery. Most who live in Kentucky would call me insane- after all, it’s mostly hills and trees when you’re not in one of the cities like Louisville or Frankfort. But in a way, there was comfort in that. No matter where you were from in Kentucky, you could lose yourself in her hills and valleys; one way or another. There was always something old about Kentucky, particularly the roads. The way that the trees overhang so that you can hardly see the sky, the hillsides and mountains that sandwich either side of the road. I would find solace with my home state in car rides, the ground vibrating comfortably under the car, my only care being the crazy ass deer or an out of state driver. 

My buddy Hadir and I were driving back to his home state of West Virginia for a family reunion, and since i was the most familiar with the roads I offered to go with him. I drove at night through the near silent woods of my home state while he slept, he drove in the day time. 

We had just drove away from a gas station, bellies and throats burning with the after taste of Ale8 and shitty food. Hadir has already settled further back into his seat, basically becoming one with the blanket he had snuggly wrapped himself in. He was a heavy sleeper, even snoring on occasion, so I turned on the radio

. Static. Static. Bluegrass. Static. Static. Static. Some bible sermon. Static. 

I cursed under my breath and furrowed my brows; what was I expecting? I really should have brought a CD or something. I tried to keep my eyes up on the road while my fingers manhandled the ‘scan’ button on the radio. More static. The occasional “Super Sandy’s Super Sale”, which I snorted at. Was it really a Super Sale if it was always happening? More static. My eyes flicked up to the road as we continued down another gut flipping curve. 

My impatience died down as I finally reached a half decent station. The familiar opening lyrics of ‘Country Roads’ crackled through the radio, like it was fighting with the static to be heard. I smiled to myself, remembering that time in highschool some older kids brought their bluetooth speaker on the bus and played this until the bus driver got so sick of their shit that he pulled the bus onto the side of the road and ‘waited’. God, we were little shits.

My eyes focused back onto the road as it started to rain. ‘Shit’, I thought. ‘I can’t be drifting off like that when the roads are slick.’

As I regained my awareness, I began to realize something was sort of,, off. Nothing too terrible, but it was the radio. It was the same Country Roads, it had to be. But somehow it sounded,, sadder. Desperate, almost. 

The keys. The keys were different. I sort of laughed at my own jumpiness- my anxiety about driving on a rainy night must have manifested in some bullshit way, that’s why the song sounded different. There wasn’t a ‘Country Roads’ but in minor key released to the public, that was ridiculous. Even if there were, no radio station would play it. The rain began to beat down on the car, harder now.

But even so, I couldn’t fully get rid of the sinking feeling in my stomach. Before I had known it, I was almost to the verge of tears. The desperation, the need to be heard, the guilt in “ I hear her voice in the morning hour as she calls me “. It was all too much. There was a pit in my stomach, a pit that this song was crawling out of., and clawing up my throat, threatening to spill out in a loud sob. I gritted my teeth as tears made my eyes just as hard to see through as my windshield. I turned on the windshield wipers, and wiped my own eyes.

“Goddammit, man” I growled to myself as I looked back up to the road. There was someone walking on the side of the road, alone, probably drenched. My headlights barely caught them.  If I hadn't have been paying attention just them, I could have hit this guy, or crashed the car and killed Hadir. What would I say then, to his parents? “Oh sorry I killed your son by crashing the car, the song on the radio was just really sad”.

It was a long, dark stretch of road, the guard rails rusted and falling apart, with the only standing ones having small reflective squares attached to them. The trees loomed over in a shapeless silhouette, the sky nearly invisible save for a sliver of dark clouds. Against the grey and black, the person barely stood out. Almost like they were a part of the landscape. Their grey coat was probably slick with rain, a darker grey hat sticking to their head as the rain poured down. I felt a twinge in my stomach, a twinge of pity.

I weighed my options quickly; there was two of us, me and Hadir, and Sikh’s are supposed to carry those tiny ass swords right? So if the person were to try anything, we would both probably be okay. After all, I had taken a couple of self defense classes in my youth- and by self defense classes I mean my cousin and I choked each other out in the living room while my uncle told us how to probably subdue a person.

As my car drew nearer, I made my decision. I slowed, rolling my window down as I approached. Anxiety knotted in my stomach, but my mind told me it was at least polite to offer. After all, how would I feel if I had to walk home in the middle of the night in the rain? 

As I pulled up, the stranger turned to look at me, and the knots in my stomach instantly tightened. 

He was and old man, about 70 or 80, with crows feet wrinkles around his soft eyes and a flat, freckled nose. His scruffy grey beard covered most of dark face, but I was still able to see his gentle smile. He reminded me so much of my grandfather, and my heart couldn’t help but break at the thought of my Papaw having to walk home so late at night in the rain.

All apprehension from before hand melted away in an instant. “Hey!” I said, sticking my head sort of out the window, trying to appear friendly.

“Howdy” He replied, in that sort of garbled way that really old people do. Where you can sort of understand them, but it sounds more like they’re mumbling.

“Where ya headed to?” I asked, sort of slipping back into the accent of my home state.

“I’m uh, headed home.” He smiled, like he was trying to ignore the rain soaking him from head to toe.

“Is that far from here? I can drive you if you’d like.”

“Oh bless yer heart, I’d appreciate that but my home’s on the other side of the bridge, in West Virginia.” 

“Well hey, you’re in luck, ‘cause that’s where I’m uh, headed.” I reassured him.

“Are ya sure? I’d hate to be a bother” His eyebrows creased as he glanced from me to Hadir, who was asleep in the seat next to me.

“Oh nah, it’d be fine.” I grinned at him.

After more convincing, I managed to coax him into the back seat, where he settled into the reflection of the backseat mirror. Once he had affirmed that he was buckled up, I drove forward and further down the road. He introduced himself as Wallace Stanfield.

It was only a few moments later that I remembered the radio, the song. I fumbled with the volume knob, apologizing. He grinned and reassured me it was all fine.

I continued to turn the knob to the point where it would be silent, but the song protested on through the speakers. I eventually decided to leave it be after I exclaimed “I dunno what’s wrong with this dang thing” to which I got a soft chuckle in response.

 “So, where is your home anyway?” I inquired, trying to gauge how much gas I needed, if I would need to buy any, etc.

He explained he lived on a property off in some holler in the boonies, that it was a farm property his mother had inherited from his grandfather, and so on. 

Soon enough I was invested in the story of his family, about how his great great grandfather had bought the land he had once been a slave on after the civil war, and how he had taught his children how to farm, and how they taught their children, all the way down to him. The farm hadn’t done well in the past four years, so he went to work everyday at a factory that was across the bridge, on the Kentucky side. He said he hated driving home, that the late nights made him drowsy and that he had fallen asleep at the wheel a couple of times, so he usually walked home in the summer and spring.

In my conversation, I had ignored the radio. Still, it rambled on. I never remember the song being this long? Was it always this long? As the stranger and I fell into a silence, the radio seemed to grow louder, clearer. I refocused my eyes on the road ahead, trying to get this guy home safe. 

Slowly, the car grew cold. It was almost like I was the only one there, not Hadir, not the stranger in my backseat. I could scarcely hear the rain over the song at this point, the beat of the windshield wipers like an after thought. I remembered when I was a kid, how I would look out the window and pretend there was something running alongside the car. I had to fight the urge to look to the left of me, out the window. I don’t know if it was caution towards to the road, or if I was afraid of what I would see. 

The radio started to glitch out, repeating that “take me home” part, over and over. Each time the radio repeated it’s line, the more distorted it became. Over and over, the radio cried out it’s plea, “take me home”,

I did see something, up ahead. A flash of white at first. Fear that I had somehow brought that horrible figment of my imagination into the world of the living. Even as I began to make out what it was, the sick feeling did not leave me. It was on of those roadside crosses, the ones marking car crashes. I had seen my fair share of them along winding roads as a kid to know exactly what it was. I scarcely made out what the name inscribed on it was. “Wilbur Hatsfield”? Maybe, I couldn’t really tell.

“The radio reminds me of my home far away

Driving down the road, I get a feeling that I-”

A wailing cry snapped me out of my trance, like I had been pulled into ice water. It was the sort of guttural horror that I had never heard before, a shriek pulled straight from his rib cage and out of his mouth, like god himself would smite him if he did not scream.

I glanced into the mirror; it was him, the man. Or at least, I think it was him, from what I could see. His face and skin were shredded almost, the skin of his face peeled harshly back like he had been dragged down the road, teeth exposed and tongue poking from his ram shackled jaw. His clothes soaked in blood, fragments of his bones poking out of his limbs in every which way. He shrieked in a way that I can only describe as agony mixed with guilt.

His neck creaked and popped as he snapped it to look at me. 

“I should have been home yesterday” he cried in desperation, tears pouring from his eyes, his throat bulging as he gasped for air.

I didn’t know what to do- why was this happening, is he okay? Why isn’t Hadir waking up? Do I say something? What do I do? 

All I could do was accelerate the car faster, the screeching of the tires making poor attempts to drown out the man’s screams. The bridge came into sight, the bridge that connects the two states. I slammed my foot on the petal, not know what else to do.

Just as we passed over the bridge- it stopped.

And I mean it all stopped.

The screaming had been cut off at its crescendo, the radio shut off or died in it’s haste, even the rain seemed to halt. As I sped past a sign that read “Welcome to West Virginia” the only thing I was left with was me crying, Hadir snoring, and an overwhelming sense of sadness.

That sickening feeling never left me, even as my eyes grew heavier and I felt I should pull over and let Hadir drive. God, I missed my family, my girlfriend. I wonder how they’re doing?

I really should have been home yesterday.

[lizziethereader]

Shelf History Tag

❀ This tag is for those books that came to you in an unusual, interesting, funny, or sweet way. Pick 5 (or more if you want) books from your shelf and tell us the story of how you came to own that book. If you’re a public library user and don’t really own any books, you can still participate. Just tell us the most interesting/funny/sweet ways you came to find a particular library book.

Tag your posts #ShelfHistory so I can see them all!

When you’re finished, tag 5 (or more) readers whose Shelf-History you’d like to know about! This one can easily be done on any blogging/vlogging platform so feel free to tag cross-platform if you really want to. ❀ 

I was tagged to do this by @bibliophilecats half a year ago or so, and you know what they say - better late than never! 

1. The Other Boleyn Girl by Philippa Gregory: We went on a school trip to California when I was 17, and my host sister gave me her copy of this to read and take back with me. It’s one of the few secondhand books I own, and it’ll always remind me of those sunny two weeks. 

2. The Fault In Our Stars by John Green - signed bookplate edition: I preordered this book when I was quite a new nerdfighter and John set himself the goal of signing the entire first edition, I think? So the book came and I was super excited only to see that it wasn’t signed. There was some kind of mishap with some orders from Europe and a few weeks later I actually got a letter from Penguin with a signed bookplate to stick into the book. Now lots of people have a signed edition of that book, but the bookplates are much more rare. (Not that I can buy myself anything with that, but it’s a cool story). 

3. Sherlock Holmes by Arthur Conan Doyle - B&N leather-bound edition: So this was one of the first books I ever ordered online, and that was back in the day when I didn’t know how harmful amazon was. What’s special about this is that I was completely surprised when the book came and was this massive, gorgeous, leather-bound edition. It’s one of the prettiest books I own. And because it’s so massive, it was quite useful as a tool back when I had to do physical therapy (The book wasn’t harmed, I promise). 

4. Murder on the Orient Express by Agatha Christie: I got this book at a book-exchange party. Basically, everyone brought a book wrapped in paper and labelled only with 3 words that describe it, and then we swapped around until everyone was satisfied and unwrapped their new books. Super fun way to get our of your comfort zone / usual genres! 

5. The Name of the Wind by Patrick Rothfuss - signed anniversary edition with a goat: This is another nerdfighter-related one. Every year, nerdfighters take part in the project for awesome, which aims at raising a lot of money for charity in a weekend. Two years ago or so, one of the perks was a signed edition of The Name of the Wind in which Patrick Rothfuss had drawn a goat (because it related to the charity he was promoting) and I just couldn’t resist. This book is  probably one of my most valued bookish possessions.  

I tag @aliteraryprincess, @anassarhenisch, @myownlittlebookcorner, @trinareadsbooks (sorry if you’ve already done it - I’ve lost track) and anyone else who feels like doing this! 

[chocafe]

— hyunbin as your boyfriend

pairing: boyfriend!hyunbin x reader a/n: requested + for my pick that south korea chose to sleep on 😚

remember those pretty instagram boys that everyone used to be obsessed with?

well . . .

THAT’S HYUNBIN

YOU’RE DATING A INSTAGRAM BEAUTY

he’s constantly taking pictures of your guys daily activities

and most especially 

he’s taking a bunch of photos of you too

in general, he loves taking photos

but what he also loves is publicly showing off

how adorable you are

how much of a success your guys dates are

and just how perfect your guys whole relationship is

he has a photo album dedicated to all of the pictures he has taken of you and of any picture that slightly relates to you too

the photo album is labeled “my sunshine 🌻”

he’s your moon while you’re his sunshine

willingly makes playlists for you

when you’re in need of new songs to listen to

he would put together a quick playlist of songs that he personally enjoys

and songs that he believes that you would like

since he’s your boyfriend, he knows all of your likes/dislikes and even your taste in music

so it’s actually quite easy for him to come up with playlists for you

adding on

when he’s love sick

he would put together a playlist of songs that reminds him of you

and songs that secretly send out a message

playlist example:

x1’s it’s okay ⇢ hyunbin wants you to know that everything will be okay and that he’s always going to be by your side, leading you through this rough pathway we all call life

bolbbalgan4’s galaxy ⇢ he’s absolutely in love with you. if he had the ability to, he would catch every falling star for you because you’re his galaxy

zion.t’s eat ⇢ even when you’re tired, make sure to eat three meals a day! hyunbin just wants to make sure you’re healthy and in the best state you could ever be in

can i just mention that i think kissing hyunbin would feel so amazing???

kill me

i believe that it would be amazing because hyunbin’s lips are pretty big and quite plumped

so kissing hyunbin would be so fulfilling

and so strong that it has the possibility to send you to cloud nine

loves it when you wear his clothes

especially his hoodies

hyunbin finds you to be utterly adorable and cuddly when you wear his oversized hoodies

he doesn’t mind you taking his clothes home and keeping it for a few weeks

he actually becomes pretty joyful when he sees snapchats and instagram photos of you still wearing his clothes and claiming them as your very own

for matching couple items

you two are more on the subtle side ˚✩‧₊

therefore, there’s no couple t-shirts that screams out “HEY WORLD!!!! WE’RE IN LOVE!!!”

it’s more of “hi if you guys paid close attention then u guys might be able to tell that we’re in love… like seriously MIGHT”

with that being said,

you guys share matching phone cases

couple jewelry

and that’s about it!

he cares so much for his younger friends

so don’t be surprised when you see them standing next to hyunbin on the day you two schedule a date

you: jungmo? wonjin?

hyunbin: ah! i forgot to tell you─

wonjin: y/n, it’s alright! hyunbin told us that you two were going to watch it: chapter two and we wanted to watch it also, but we’ll leave you two alone. don’t worry about it! :-)

wonjin and jungmo know that you two are lovebirds

so they try their best to keep their distance when they come along with you two~

expect when you guys go out to eat

these two little rascals are attached at your guys hips, constantly asking you two to pay for their meals

jungmo: can i pleASE COME TOO I WANT TO EAT SUSHI

you: how about we make hyunbin pay for all of us? :D

hyunbin: do i look like i’m made out of money

wonjin: yes u do

speaking of dates

when wonjin and jungmo aren’t following you two

your dates with hyunbin tend to be more casual than excessive

you both like to spend time at the han river

it’s sort of your guys go-to date spot

you two would just talk all night long there

sometimes, you guys would be eating ramen by the river side

or you two would be laying in the grass

talking about whatever runs through your guys mindset

( you two are so close and comfortable with one another that you both aren’t shy to talk about different kinds of topics )

“why is spongebob the main character when patrick is the star?” hyunbin says as he stares off into the night sky, not hesitating one bit as his question was completely serious

you sigh to yourself, snuggling more into his grasp. “we’re literally cuddling underneath the beautiful moon and you want to talk about spongebob?”

“do you want me to talk about mickey mouse instead?”

hyunbin is so head over heels for you ! ! !

when you’re sick

he would go out of his way to buy you comforting warm food 

and medicine that could help you get better

and when you’re under the weather

he would make you a care package filled with your favorite snacks, drinks, fuzzy socks and much more!

“package delivery for y/n!” hyunbin shouts out, handing you the care package he prepared for you

“what’s this for?” you wondered, slowly opening the box as hyunbin stares at you like a child staring at candy

“well, i saw your tweets saying that you were feeling upset, so i thought maybe i can be the reason to flip your frown upside down?” 

“you saw that?”

“of course. i have you on post notifications!” hyunbin chuckles, bringing his fingers to the sides of your lips, forcing you to mimic a smile. “oh! to go along with the snacks i bought you, i also brought a movie that we could both watch together.” he shuffles through his backpack to locate the dvd

you then watched hyunbin proceed to jump onto the couch

as he began to pat down the empty spot next to him, indicating for you to sit besides him

“i think i’m already feeling better with you just being with me.” you say, taking the seat next to hyunbin as he wraps his arms around you

let’s just say the night consisted of you two cuddling, a bunch of kisses and precious story times ⸜(⁃͈ᴗ•͈)⸝

[cliquestitsandicks]

Tracking Kat

Episode 1: Kat is mourning the end of her relationship with Adena. It has been 5 weeks since the breakup in Paris. She's still looking at old pictures of them and posted one. She still hasn't sent Adena's equipment to her, even though Adena has been texting her asking for it. By the end of the episode, she's admitted to (in order) Alex, Patrick, and Jane & Sutton that she is not okay. She is still sad about the end of her relationship. Alex tells her "you're so hard on yourself. You got your heart broken. There's no expiration date on heartbreak. You move on when you're ready to move on and when you *are* ready, you will find someone amazing. Someone who will never leave." Then Patrick is an entitled, invasive dick. She told her girls she wasn't ready for it to be real yet and that's why she hadn't told them... but she broke down in front of them. She'd finally accepted it was over. End of the episode, she makes an instagram post exposing her vulnerability to the world and packs up Adena's things for good.

Episode 2: Kat injects Jane for fertility treatment. She is very familiar with Jane's reproductive system at this point - best friends. She learns the Wild Susan, a club Adena took her to that became a safe space she frequents and which happens to be 1 of only TWO lesbian bars in the city, is closing. She learns the only reason it's happening is because developers want to gentrify the neighborhood. We learn Kat has a lawyer (not sure how that may come up later) that she met through the #BeReal campaign. Anyway, Kat throws a queer prom as a fundraiser to help save the Wild Susan. It ultimately fails because $42,000 in one night from poor people is a bit much. But it was a valiant effort and, as Kat learns, the gentrifiers were well aware of its impossibility. This episode is leading up to her political career. "I've been so into my feelings lately, it feels really good to challenge my energy into something that really matters". I am so proud of Kat. In Season 1, I would have worried she was avoiding her feelings, but the writers made a big deal of showing she's done the exact opposite of that in the prior episode.

Episode 3: Kat has been researching councilman Reynolds and he's a total piece of shit - helping gentrifiers, cutting funding to parks, and voting against paid maternity leave. She's fired up. Our girl is P A S S I O N A T E & informed! We meet the councilwoman for whom she plans to volunteer and her campaign manager, Tia. Tia's a tiny, bubbly boss with natural hair and a bright smile and we see Kat brighten up. We later learn she and Kat have more in common, both being NYU grads (actually overlapping while there) and both brilliant. Tia, however, is not from a wealthy and connected background. In their initial meeting, Kat tells Tia "I'm just looking for something to channel my rage and depression". Kat enlists her besties to help get the councilwoman to unseat problematic Reynolds. Sutton clearly sees something between Kat and Tia because she does a friend's background check (checking the social media) and tells Kat she looks very single to which Kat responds "it really doesn't matter because I'm still getting over Adena" and Jane seems skeptical of Kat's protestations with her silent smirk. We learn Kat has really soft lips. Kat is the voice of reason for Alex, being the first one to acknowledge the hypersexual "dangerous" Black man depiction that will likely be projected onto him if he admits he is the man in his friend's story. Then we see her naturally command the crowd at the rally. Again, I am so proud of Kat. She isn't holding back when she knows she should speak up. She's taking control of her narrative. She's fighting for what's right in a constructive manner. And now Tia, who has way more experience with this than Kat, is recommending she run for office.

Episode 4: We start the episode with Kat describing what would be her district and job description to her best friends. She's looking excited about the potential to do something that matters and really help people. In her conversation with the Toby (?. don't know, don't care), we get to see more of Tia being supportive of Kat and Kat being confronted with whether she's motivated to actually run or just wants someone to beat Reynolds. We learn Kat had an abortion in 2013 when she was 20 AS IS HER GOTDAMN RIGHT BECAUSE IT'S HER BODY, but it's something she's felt some sort of shame/concern over seeing as nobody close to her knew about it. Then, and this is so great, after telling her friends she has the conversation with Tia. Tia shares that she's had one as well and completely understands not wanting it to be public knowledge, but in sharing her experience educates Kat on yet another way vulnerable people are having their rights stripped, this time through manipulation and "crisis centers" that shouldn't exist. Tia remains supportive and doesn't pressure Kat at all with her decision. "I am by your side if they come for you, but you gotta do what's right for you". When we get that great speech from Jacqueline we see Kat being moved my the statement that you'll never know what you're capable of if you don't take a leap faith to face challenges that frighten you, then you'll never know what you're capable of. [i'd like to pause right now to say Jacqueline is fucking wonderful and i love her like my white auntie. also Sutton needed to hear that again just as much as Kat and i really appreciate this entire moment.] When Kat leaves Jacqueline's celebration, she passes by one of those "crisis centers" Tia told her about and decides to use her voice to help others. "I like to think of myself as a pretty strong, empowered, forward-thinking, open-minded woman. But, up until now, I haven't been able to talk about my abortion. If me putting myself out there helps even one woman to feel less alone, less ashamed, and less guilty then it's worth it." And just like us, dear Tia is blown away. She actually exhales a breath she didn't know she was holding and biiiiiiiitch (!!!! excitedly). and then they're dancing! This is the episode, upon rewatch, when i recognize how often Tia touches Kat unnecessarily.

Episode 5: Kat's entire recap includes Tia, ending with Sutton saying "she seems to be very single". Her very first scene, Tia is complimenting her walking out of some campaigning event we later learn was a Town Hall. Can we just talk about Kat's blazer for a second? First of all, i want it. Second, how did they find something so perfectly her? It's colorful but still semi-professional, fun, but still about her business. Heart-eye inducing. ok. So the next time we see Kat, she and Tia (whose last name they finally mention as Clayton) are reviewing campaign platform and doing debate prep at Kat's apartment. Tia's complimenting Kat almost continuously at this point. Clearly she's impressed, borderline gushing. and Kat tries to brush it off. Tia's not letting her. And there's this moment when Tia forces herself to break eye contact with her (around 5:40 of the episode). The show tells us Kat still hasn't dated since Adena, but Sutton brings up the "stupid smile" she gets whenever Tia's mentioned. She's making better decisions than Patrick and her being compared to Patrick is lowkey happening a lot. I'm starting to wonder if they're setting up Kat taking over digital if she doesn't win the campaign. Ok, the song choice as they pan to Kat and Tia... "I never normally check my phone 10 times in a minute. I'm not the girl to be kept on hold 10 miles from the finish." Again, Tia is very touchy with Kat, never anything inappropriate of course, but the hand is always on the back or the arm. and their interaction is just.. lovely. I squeal. it's so cute. they're so comfortable. Kat invites Tia to the dinner BEFORE (i got the timing on that mixed up before) Tia says she's "a boring straight girl" [the test determined that was a LIE... nah, my good sis Tia is dealing with some internalized homophobia which is no joking matter, but we don't learn that until the next episode]. Apparently, Kat can cook now? So she just liked Adena's food better i guess? idk... anyway. I get why some of the things Tia said can be taken as flirting, but i still believe that you accept what someone says is their sexuality until they say otherwise. yes, that's even when they're saying things like "when i see what i want, i go for it" and "Annndd she can cook. it's hot" and looking at you like that. Kat telling Jane to apologize because he's her boss and she got suuuper disrespectful and would absolutely deserve getting fired makes me proud. She's the mature friend now. She's the one with a level head on her shoulders. Kat finally makes her feelings known to Tia, but this is after Tia has already stated she's straight. Tia reiterates that this is a professional relationship and apologizes for Kat getting the wrong idea. I'm reminded of when Alex Danvers told Maggie Sawyer she was into her and she was rejected... but in that example i was floored and heartbroken for Alex because ugh, i just didn't see that coming. With this, however, it felt like Tia was clear in her words even if it shocked the hell out of me what the words were. So i didn't feel heartbroken for Kat. I thought... tbh... she brought it on herself for refusing to respect Tia's "no", however soft it was. But the writers did let us know it wasn't over with the music selection... Kat looking at "You and Tia make a great team :)" as "I'll go to war for you" plays.

Episode 6: All the emails have been released and Kat has no worries at all about that because she's a professional. And we get to see her be a boss addressing the entire group. Patrick isn't there this episode (YAY for our sanity!) and i think Kat being a boss so often when Patrick isn't around is intentional. When we see Tia, she says last night is forgotten but she thinks it's a bad idea to remain Kat's campaign manager... which is clearly a hard rejection. One can argue that it's too harsh for someone merely admitting they were into you. But it's just as easy to argue that it's appropriate after telling someone, very clearly, that you are not into them romantically and them ignoring that and saying that you were flirting with them on this date they never called a date before you were already there?? so i'm not mad at it. At the end of the episode, we find out that Tia was rejecting herself, not Kat. Turns out, Ms. Tia Clayton has known she's attracted to women since she was in high school, but she "didn't want to want it". Tia is so TINY AND ANXIOUS ABOUT HER SEXUALITY AND MANY OF US HAVE BEEN THERE. But... and i say this in jest... for someone who is really trying not to be out in the open with her gay, she sure was comfortable kissing Kat all outdoors for anyone to see. My good sis is smitten. I'm excited for the story. Again with the music during their scenes though... "I cannot fallll in love with youuuuu. I cannot feeeeel this way so soon, so soon." Also, my girlfriend and I have watched the gifset of the kiss over the phone and swooned (we live in different states for now). This episode, we also got the flashbacks (i missed Lauren so much). Kat's got red streaks in her hair, is a friend to strangers, has regrettable sex with men who taste like pickles, and is cute as a button. She also called Jacqueline "Mama Jackie" and that's it; that's her name now.

[camillemontespan]

the abc of love [drake and camille]

For those who wish to know more about Dramille (yes that’s their couple name which I’ve just made up on the spot, come at me!)

@cora-nova thanks for creating these amazing questions, I enjoyed filling them out!

TAG LIST IN CASE YOU WANT TO READ AND MAYBE DO YOURSELVES FOR YOUR OTPS:

@sirbeepsalot @pug-bitch @jovialyouthmusic @katedrakeohd @drakesensworld @notoriouscs @moonlightgem7 @ifyouseekheart

1. A - ANNIVERSARIES

They always celebrate their relationship anniversary. They do the same thing each year - sit in front of the fire out on the terrace and make smores. It’s simple but it’s cute and it suits them perfectly.

2. B - BELIEFS

Camille likes to think there is something after death. Drake is the opposite- he doesn’t believe in God and he thinks that once you’re dead, you’re dead. 

Camille says she doesn’t believe in star signs but she will still sneak a peak in the horoscope section of magazines, you know, just in case. 

3. C - COLLECTABLES

Drake has kept the receipt of their first dinner date together. He also has an album on his phone which are just photos he has taken of Camille. He looks at it whenever he misses her or just wants to feel warm and fuzzy.

Camille got into scrapbooking, thanks to Maxwell. She keeps photos, receipts, restaurant napkins, theatre tickets... everything they have done, she will keep a memento of. 

4. D - DRINKS & FOOD

Drake does most of the cooking, which is surprising to some people - they only see him when he is mocking the tiny finger food at court. When he cooks, he prepares hearty meals that are meant to be feasted on. 

Camille likes white wine. She also loves Espresso Martinis, which are perfect for a night out because it gets you drunk and keeps you awake at the same time. Drake thinks cocktails are unnecessary but if Camille asks him to join in, he will. He will always choose a Manhattan (unless he is at brunch and has a mimosa. More on that later).

They both love going to this seafood restaurant that is right by the harbour in Cordonia’s Old Town. The fish is caught that day and they will both sit outside, looking out at the harbour, eating grilled fish and drinking white wine (Drake will actually drink white wine if he is having fish, and red wine if he is having steak). 

Camille’s comfort food is mac n cheese as it reminds her of home.

5. E - EXERCISE

Camille enjoys barre class, Pilates and spinning. Drake prefers just sweating it out in the gym, but if it’s a sunny day, he will hike up the mountains. He feels free when he is high up, away from civilisation. 

They both watch NFL. Camille supports the Giants, Drake obviously supports the Texans. They host Superbowl at their house every year, which is always fun as they get really into it, with bets and hotdogs and whiskey. Hana and Maxwell don’t understand the rules, Liam is too busy checking his work emails and Olivia gets bored but they enjoy the entertainment. 

6. F - FIRST

Their first dance was at a ball in court and both wanted the other but couldn’t do anything about it. For Drake, that first dance was torture as he held her close, wishing he could kiss her.

Their first kiss was over a bottle of whiskey. Drake remembers Camille tasting of whiskey and watermelon lip balm. 

Their first time together was, again, after drinking whiskey. Drake had taken her back to her room to sleep off the whiskey but before she could go, he couldn’t help himself and kissed her. One thing led to another..

7. G - GOLD

They both don’t care for wealth or material possessions. Camille was working class and got her first job aged 14 to help her grandmother with the rent, food shopping, bills. She views money as a way to survive; not to flash the cash and spend on designer items or cars. 

Drake’s most prized possession is his grandmother’s engagement ring, which he proposed to Camille with. To him, it is priceless.

8. H - HOME

Camille’s parents died when she was five from a drug overdose. Camille was adopted by her grandmother, Gisele. They lived in a small house in the outskirts of New York. Camille is part French on her grandmother’s side - they are descendants of Madame de Montespan, mistress of Louis XIV. Gisele always talked about it - Camille doesn’t as she thinks nobody would believe her, plus she doesn’t like to brag.

Drake visited the ranch in Texas every summer and it’s a place where he feels happiest. 

9. I - ISSUES

Camille isn’t keen on Kiara (Kinky Kiara). They sometimes argue when Drake starts thinking that he doesn’t deserve this life, which Camille always takes  great pains to tell him he does.

10. J - JOLLY JOKER

Drake loves humour when comedians say the very thing they shouldn’t. Anything that’s controversial, Drake likes. 

Camille is incredibly ticklish and Drake knows it. Drake takes advantage of this all the time. 

11. K - KIDS

Camille loves babies and gets broody easily. Since she lost her parents so young, she has always wanted babies and a home to create. 

When they had Lily, Drake was over protective from the start. He would watch over her while she slept, scared she would stop breathing. 

Camille is very hands on and loves Lily with every fibre of her being. This child will never feel lonely or lost.

12. L - LOOK

Camille will wear Prada, Gucci and Chanel when she is on Duchess duty. When she is off duty, she likes to wear Anthropologie and The Kooples. She takes skincare seriously, and has the wrinkle free skin to prove it, and her favourite perfume is Gabrielle by Chanel - her mother was called Gabrielle, so the perfume holds a special meaning to her. 

Drake relies on the old faithful - denim shirt and jeans. But, when he suits up for court events, he really suits up. Armani suits. His favourite perfume is Bleu de Chanel, which smells woody and masculine.

13. M - MEDIA

Drake doesn’t like social media as he doesn’t see the point in it. Who cares what you ate for dinner? Why are people taking photos of their dinners? 

They both have Netflix. Drake likes Stranger Things (he fancies Nancy). Camille loves Queer Eye (can you believe?!)

14. N - NETWORK

Their core group consists of Liam, Maxwell, Hana and Olivia. They don’t like Madeleine but will tolerate her if she is around. Camille is the people person of the relationship; she sparkles and knows all the right anecdotes. Bertrand taught her well. 

15. O - OBLIGATIONS

Camille focuses more on Duchess duties. She hosts an open house every Thursday from 1-4, a tradition that was abandoned more than 200 years ago but which she has brought back. It means the citizens of Valtoria can visit the estate and speak to her in person regarding any issues they have.  Drake deals with things around the estate such as land conservation. 

16. P - PAMPERING

Camille goes to the spa with Hana and Olivia once a month. Drake likes the plunge pool.

Drake makes Camille breakfast in bed every Sunday. It is their couple time. They will sip coffee, eat waffles with nutella and bananas and read their papers. Sometimes, if he is feeling fun, he will make them mimosas (Hana introduced him to mimosas and he was ashamed to really like it).

17. Q - QUESTIONS

They are both private about their personal life as they don’t court attention. They share everything - Camille had to teach Drake to trust her with his secrets. It was another wall which she broke down.

18. R - ROUTINE

They both get up at 8am to have breakfast on their balcony. Camille attends meetings and Drake talks to landowners. They both have a meeting together for one hour in which they discuss their duties, progress etc but after that, they talk about normal things. They have dinner together every evening and they don’t talk about work.

19. S - SENSUALITY

They both love sex. They are both passionate and like to focus on the other. Drake is very generous and gives all of himself to her. They aren’t crazy in the bedroom but they have handcuffs and have used hot wax before. The balcony is one of their favourite places to have sex. Camille likes to be dominated over; any time he picks her up against a wall, she loves it. 

20. T - TOGETHER

They are such a cosy couple. They are always touching; whether its kissing or holding hands, they find a way to touch. Olivia says they are sickening.

21. U - UPS & DOWNS

For Drake, he only needs Camille and their daughter to be happy. 

He likes the simple things. He loves whiskey, the outdoors, the smell of wood burning in a fire. Texas. Endless summers in Texas. He loves the scent of Camille’s hair - coconut- and her watermelon lipbalm when she kisses him. 

Camille loves Drake and Lily. She adores their dog, Maxwell, named after their friend of course, and she loves New York. 

Camille is the eternal optimist while Drake can be very pessimistic. 

22. V - VACATION

They enjoy hiking up the mountains and city breaks. Rome was a particular favourite of theirs as they wandered round the city unnoticed, getting drunk on wine and overeating on pizza and pasta.

23. W - WEDDING

They married at the Walker ranch at sunset. Camille had planned most of it and had kept the location secret from Drake until she was forced to tell him (basically when the invitations were ready to be posted).  He got quite emotional and had to have a moment alone. So much joy.

They spent their wedding night by the lake at the ranch. It was really warm outside and they hadn’t wanted to be cooped up indoors. Drake found pillows and blankets and they consummated their marriage by the lake. 

24. X - EXs

Drake has slept around but has no ex-girlfriends. He didn’t think any girl deserved to be ‘saddled’ with him so he made sure he was distant and aloof. It didn’t work; the ladies loved it, wanting the chance to ‘help him’. He didn’t like many of the girls at court anyway as they were too spoiled or giggly or annoying. 

Camille had a boyfriend when she was 7 years old called Patrick which lasted one day. When she was 16, she had a boyfriend called James who she was with for two years. 

25. Y - YELLING

Camille gets emotional. Drake is rational. This swaps around when Drake is drunk; if they fight when they’ve been drinking, he shouts. Camille will treat him like a child, which only annoys him more. 

They fight when Drake relies too much on whiskey to cloud his negative thoughts. 

Camille is fantastic at the silent treatment. 

26. Z - ZOOM

They were made for each other. Drake can now die a happy man having been with her and Camille finally feels safe and loved and wanted. They are best friends wrapped up as lovers.

[tayjoefanfic]

The Sick Alwyn Boys

Authors Note: Sorry it’s been so long since I last posted a fic. I’ve been crazy busy with school, but I plan to get back into writing more because I miss it. This is a fic about Taylor taking care of Joe and Patrick when they are sick. I hope you guys like it! Let me know what you think! 

Taylor had a weeklong break from tour and was so happy to be able to spend some time in London with Joe. Even though they both had been frequently working, and she had reemerged into the public eye long ago, she still found a lot of comfort in hiding out in London with her boyfriend and getting to just be Taylor and Joe, despite their very busy and public careers.

Taylor woke up cuddled up next to Joe and looked over at the clock realizing that it was already 10:30 am, knowing that they both had needed to sleep in a little bit. She watched Joe peacefully sleep for a couple of minutes before giving into the urge to wake him up so that she could spend some much needed quality time with him. She cuddled up into him even more and kissed his lips while playing with his hair, hoping to gently wake him up. He began to stir before mumbling a groggy “mornin’ baby” and opening his eyes to his gorgeous girlfriend.

“Sorry to wake you up, but I’m got bored, and I miss you,” Taylor commented while running her fingers in a relaxing pattern over his chest.

“It’s okay I’ve missed you too babe,” Joe replied before breaking out into a fit of coughs.

“Uh oh that doesn’t sound good,” Taylor noted before bringing her hand up to his forehead and asking, “are you feeling okay? I think you have a fever,” her voice laced with concern.

Joe tried to tell her he was fine before he started coughing again and noticed his sore throat, stuffed nose, and pounding headache.

“I guess I might be getting sick” he relented.

“Yeah it seems like it. Don’t worry baby, I will take great care of you” Taylor promised.

Joe knew better than to try and object to Taylor’s efforts at nursing him back to health. He knew there was no stopping his wonderful girlfriend from going above and beyond to take care of him and the people she cared about. Plus, if he was being honest, he liked to be babied when he was sick and wasn’t going to fight the extra love and attention from her.

Taylor kissed his forehead one last time before heading to the bathroom to wash her face and brush her teeth and somewhat get ready for the day. When she walked back into the master bedroom, she handed Joe some ibuprofen to help with his headache and fever and gave him a glass of water, which she insisted that he drink. After he had taken the medicine she informed him that she was going to go downstairs and make him some soup because he still needed to eat even if he was sick. Meanwhile, Joe decided to go back to sleep for a little while until she returned with lunch.

About 45 minutes later, Taylor came back upstairs and woke Joe up with a bowl of homemade soup and more water so that he could stay hydrated. The two sat in bed while he ate and watched some TV, just relaxing together. After he finished eating, Joe laid his head on Taylor’s chest and allowed her to absent-mindedly run her fingers through his hair, something she knew he loved.

“I don’t want you to get sick babe, you know you don’t have to stay up here if you don’t want to” Joe offered, knowing she probably wouldn’t except and deep down hoping she wouldn’t.

“Shut up, you know I’m not going anywhere. You’re sick and I’m going to stay right here and take care of you because I love you,” Taylor responded.

“I love you too baby, and thank you for taking care of me,” Joe replied with a sleepy smile on his face. He knew how lucky he was to have her.

Meanwhile at school, Patrick was beginning to feel pretty sick as well, not unlike his older brother. During his study hall period he called his mom, asking her if she would come pick him up since he wasn’t feeling very well.

Elizabeth had to remind him that both her and his father would be out of town for the day on a work thing and wouldn’t be back until really late that night.

“Why don’t you call Joe and ask him to come pick you up honey” Elizabeth suggested.

“Okay fine I guess I’ll call him instead,” Patrick relented knowing that Joe wouldn’t take care of him like his mom or make him food. He would probably just leave him on the couch to sleep it off.

“I’m sorry honey, we will be home later tonight and hopefully you will start feeling better soon. I love you,” Elizabeth conveyed before ending the call.

The couple remained in bed cuddling and made it half way through another episode of Law and Order SVU before Joe’s Phone rang. Taylor grabbed the phone from the bedside table to answer it for him so he didn’t have to move. She saw Patrick’s name on the screen and quickly picked up, hoping everything was okay with him.

“Hey Pat, what’s up? Aren’t you supposed to be at school right now?” Taylor asked.

“Umm yeah I am at school, but I’m feeling really sick and mum and dad are out of town all day so they told me to call Joe and ask if he would come and get me” he replied.

“Awe I’m sorry you’re not feeling well. It just so happens that Joe is also feeling pretty sick, so I don’t know if he is up to coming to get you, but I will send my security to pick you up, and you can come hangout over here. What’s one more Alwyn boy to take care of,” Taylor offered.

“Thanks Tay, see you soon then,” Patrick replied before ending the call to wait to be picked up. He was honestly pretty happy that Taylor was there too. She was a lot nicer and more caring than Joe so she would actually take care of him way more than his older brother.

After the phone call ended with Patrick, Taylor quickly sent a text to Elizabeth explaining that Joe was also sick, but assuring her that she was sending someone to pick Patrick up from school and that she would make sure he was okay.

The couple decided to relocate to the couch in the downstairs living room so they would be there when Patrick got back from school. About 40 minutes later, Taylor heard the front door opening and looked up from the TV to see Patrick walking through the door. Even though she was used to it by now, she couldn’t help but notice how similar Patrick and Joe looked, they both even had the same sad looking expression when sick.

“Hey Pat! I’m sorry you’re sick buddy. Have you eaten Lunch?” Taylor asked, while giving him a hug.

“No, but I’m not really very hungry” Patrick commented as he plopped down on the couch next to Taylor.

“You have to eat something even tough you don’t feel well. Do you want me to get you some soup? I already made Joe eat some a little while ago. I can heat some up for you,” Taylor offered.

“Don’t fight her on this. She is determined to take care of us,” Joe noted lazily as he lifted his head up from Taylor’s lap to glance over at his brother.

“Sure, I guess soup sounds good,” Patrick relented.

Joe sat up so Taylor could get up to go get his little brother some soup before leaning back onto the couch. The brothers sat in silence lazily watching the TV, neither feeling up to talking much. After about 10 minutes Taylor returned to the living room with soup, as well as extra pillows and blankets for the sick boys. She handed Patrick a tray with his soup along with a glass of water.  She reached down to feel his forehead before determining that he also had a fever and handing him some ibuprofen like she had given Joe earlier. Patrick sat up and took the medicine before thanking Taylor for the soup.

“Do you guys need anything else?” she asked while putting a blanket over Patrick and handing him one of the pillows she brought.

“I’m good. Thanks, Tay,” Patrick commented before taking his first bite of soup.

“I just want my pillow back, so if you could come sit back down that would be much appreciated” Joe replied, signaling for her to return to her spot between the boys on the couch.

Taylor laughed a little before setting back down onto the couch and allowing Joe to lay his head back in her lap so she could continue running her fingers through his hair in a relaxing manner. She was glad they ended up getting the large sectional couch because it was the perfect size for all of them to comfortably lie out on. Her and Joe had actually just slept on the couch a few times after falling asleep downstairs because it was so comfortable. Now that everyone was situated, they all focused back on the TV.

“Do you guys want to watch a movie? We’ve been watching random episodes of this show for hours and I’m kind of feeling a change,” Taylor asked the boys.

Both of them lazily mumbled a “sure, sounds good,” prompting Taylor to find a movie for them to watch. She scrolled Nextflix for a while before Patrick suggested that they watch Harry Potter because it was the standard sick day movie of both the brother’s childhoods.

“Oh yes, I like that idea!” Taylor responded excitedly.

“I wish I could share in your enthusiasm baby, but unfortunately I have no energy. He is right though, Harry Potter is a must watch sick day movie” Joe commented.

“So which one do you want to watch? Do you wanna just start with the first one?” Taylor asked.

The boys nodded in approval and Taylor hit play as they lounged on the couch. Patrick had fallen asleep about three fourths of the way through the first movie and Joe was drifting in and out of sleep, never moving his head from Taylor’s lap.

Just as the second movie ended and Taylor hit play on the third one, she glanced down at her phone to check the time and realized it was already 10:30 pm. She also noticed a text from Elizabeth informing her that they had just gotten back in town and would be by to pick up Patrick in about 20 minutes. Realizing that she had sent the text 17 minutes ago, Taylor figured she would be there any minute. She decided to just let Patrick sleep until his mom got there because she didn’t want to wake him up before she had to. He looked so peaceful sleeping on the other side of her, not unlike her boyfriend who was also sleeping contently.

After a couple minutes went by, she heard the front door open to see her security unlocking the door and allowing Elizabeth and Richard to walk in. They immediately spotted Taylor and the boys and began walking over. Taylor paused the TV before saying hi to Joe’s parents.  Elizabeth came over to give Taylor a hug before leaning down to Kiss Joe’s forehead and rub his back, stirring him awake. As Joe woke up, he saw his mom and raised his head up from Taylor’s lap, sitting up so he could give her a hug.  

“Thank you for taking care of them today Taylor, I appreciate it so much. I know these two can be pretty needy when they are sick. Although I’ve found that most guys seem to think the world is ending whenever they get sick,” Elizabeth Joked.

“It was no problem, Joe is pretty needy all the time” Taylor joked back, earning a protest from her boyfriend.

“I’m just kidding baby,” she responded before assuring Elizabeth and Richard that it was no problem at all and that she was more than happy to take care of both Joe and Patrick. Patrick began to wake up as a result of all the talking as his mom sat down next to him, feeling his forehead.

“Both of them had fevers earlier, but I made them eat some soup and drink water and gave them some ibuprofen to hopefully help with the fevers” Taylor informed their parents.

“Well it sounds like they were both in great hands. Thank you again honey. I better get Patrick home so he can go back to bed” Elizabeth responded, ushering for Patrick to get up and go to the car with his dad.

“Thanks again, Taylor” Richard noted as he came over to hug Joe and Taylor goodbye.

Once they all said their goodbyes and left with Patrick, Taylor came back over to the couch where Joe was still sitting.

“Do you want to go upstairs and go to bed too? Are you feeling any better baby?”

“Yeah, I’m starting to feel a bit better, but upstairs sounds good,” Joe responded.

The couple made their way up to the master bedroom and quickly got ready for bed before getting under the covers, Joe immediately cuddling up next to Taylor once again. 

“I hate that you’re feeling so sick baby. Hopefully you just need a good nights rest and you will feel a little better tomorrow.”

Joe hummed in agreement before whispering, “thanks for taking care of me today baby. I love you so much, you know that, right?”

“I had a feeling, but thanks for confirming,” Taylor joked back before continuing, “and I love you too. Now go to sleep because I want you to be awake enough to hangout with me tomorrow. As cute as you are sleeping all day, I would like to get to talk to you as some point since I’ve miss you and all.” 

“I’ll do my best. Good night babe,” Joe responded before drifting off to sleep. Taylor fell asleep soon after him, realizing she was actually really tired, despite the fact that they had just laid around all day. 

[folie-aplusieurs]

For the ask thing... every fourth question!!!

Ahhhh, thank youu!!!!!

4: Do you have writing habits or rituals?Hmm... I’m a visual person so I always make mood boards and stuff for my writing. And if I’m having problems with a scene/chapter, I’ll go on a photo expedition to take pictures of things that remind me of that scene. It’s... weird, but it helps me get into the right tone and setting for that chapter. Maybe someday I’ll share some of the stuff I’ve taken for some of the fics I’ve posted ;)

8: Favorite trope to writeHm. I don’t know if fantasy is a trope but... maybe mythical things? I don’t know lol. I like angst I guess

12: How do you deal with self-doubts?Answered!

16: Where do you take your motivation from?Oh, shit. I don’t know lol. I think that I’m just so intimidated by so many of the amazing writers here that I’m motivated by the desire to keep up with them lol. Assuming that makes any sense! 

20: Post a snippet of  WIP you’re working onPresented without context:

His hair’s still a bit damp as he pulls back into Patrick’s driveway, the lights out and suggesting Patrick’s yet to leave his bed. Pete parks with a sigh, taking a moment to stare at his own reflection in the window. Stained by the shadows of raindrops, he looks the way he did ten or so years ago, driving up to Patrick’s parents’ house, ready to whisk their son off into the sunset of fame and fortune. 

Now, Patrick’s the only one in this house and Pete will settle for a sunrise. Warmth and beauty— nothing that greets him when he steps inside.

24: Poetry or prose, and why?Prose! Can’t quite say why, I just feel more comfortable with it

28: Who do you share rough drafts with?Anyone who’s unlucky enough to offer themselves up as a beta lol (such as @the-chaotic-panda or @hum-my-name )

32: Easiest character to writeAnswered!

36: A spoilerI’ll give one for BIV since it’s nearly done anyway... Patrick’s going to be able to introduce Pete to the place that used to be his kingdom

40: Original fiction or fanfiction, and why?Sort of both. I have some original fiction lying around in my docs but fanfiction can be more fun at times. It depends on the plot and what characters (OC or not) best fit it

44: Best piece of feedback you’ve ever gottenI don’t think I have any sort of particular feedback that stands out... I appreciate any and all help I can get. Lol, sorry, that’s a bit of a non-answer but it’s true!

48: Favorite genre to write inFantasy! Or, well, anything removed from canon. Anything with a bit of magic-infused in the feeling of the world

52: How did writing change you?It’s given me a space to toss out all my thoughts and to share some of my quirks through my characters and ideas. And it’s also brought me a ton of awesome friends

Thank you so much for asking! Love you!

[fuck-bowers]

Derry Queen (Patrick Hockstetter x Reader) Chapter One

A/N: This is an experimental little thing I wrote recently (and I definitely didn’t write it just for the pun… 😂) Let me know what you think!

“You got nominated!” Your friend Shirley cried, pointing at your name on the commons bulletin board. Her excitement was infectious, although you were so physically exhausted from that day’s cheer practice that even smiling hurt.

You couldn’t believe you’d gone the whole day until six-thirty at night before learning that you had a chance at being Homecoming Royalty - more importantly, homecoming queen, as the newly posted paper indicated.

“Oh, wow, I really was.” You muttered to yourself with a slow-forming grin, staring at your name in the typewriter font. You were allegedly competing with Laura Tillman and Jacqueline Werner. You had a feeling you’d win.

Shirley turned to you with nothing but happiness in her expression. “I bet you’ll win, Y/N. How exciting, my best friend might be homecoming queen!”

As the two of you headed to the front exit, Shirley continued talking about who was likely to win in every grade when you wondered whether this was a good thing or not. You were already on the homecoming committee, and would have to make posters and help fundraise for it, specifically during the ‘Fall Fair’ that weekend. You had an ASB zero period every morning of next week, as well as cheer practice every evening preparing for state competitions. Combining that with your AP Bio, AP English class, and every night’s homework from a day full of classes, you weren’t sure you even had time to make it to the homecoming game, much less enough energy.

“… And Clint Cameron’s cute, and nice, so I bet he has a good shot at being king. You know him, right?” Shirley asked.

“I know everyone at Derry High.” You said, with a sarcastic smile. “He’s very nice. I can see him winning for sure.”

Walking out the front doors, you were reminded how little your cheer outfit protected you from the cold. The journey home would certainly feel much longer than usual.

“See you tomorrow, Y/N. Good job on that nomination.” She teased, walking down the sidewalk and leaving you standing below the glow of the streetlamps. Summer had certainly come and gone, the autumn chill surrounding you.

“Thanks.” You bid, quietly.

Alone, in front of the school, you stood and waited for no one. Debating whether or not you should walk home, or maybe even hitchhike to some other city and start a new life, your responsibilities silently strangled you.

Other students dubbed you ‘The Derry Queen’, and that night, it was clear why that had become your moniker. Between your mother’s constant pressure and the occasional enjoyment everything brought you, you’d done everything imaginable (aside from run for mayor) to be involved in your small Maine hometown.

“Fuck.” You murmured under your breath, wishing there was some sort of way you could get out of walking. You were physically and mentally exhausted, and the night had barely even begun.

Maybe if a fellow cheerleader or classmate drove by, they’d be willing to help. You weren’t lying when you said you knew everyone who went to Derry High, and that basically extended to every resident. Maybe someone would drive you and rescue you from the cold walk alone. But still, who’d be aimlessly driving around this late, with the freedom to take someone home on the fly? Your answer purred up beside you in the shape of a blue Trans-Am, filled with the most notorious boys in town.

Car exhaust filled your nose as you grimaced, eyebrows knit, immediately making eye contact with Patrick Hockstetter.

“Hey there, cheerleader.” The delinquent said, sticking his head out of the passenger side window, resting crossed arms on the door. He smiled, looking up and down the sidewalk. “You workin’ the street tonight?”

The back window was down, and you noticed Henry Bowers sitting there, giving you the once over multiple times. You narrowed your eyes at the passenger.

“You can’t afford me, Hockstetter. Keep driving.”

As the two of you held eye contact, the other boys ‘ooh'ing at your reply, something changed in his eyes.

“Huh. You remember my name.” He said, a sarcastic smirk growing on his face. Anger sprung a leak within you.

“I can’t remember a day where your name didn’t come over the intercom. Didn’t you have detention today?” You nearly spat. The smirk became smug.

“It’s tomorrow.” He replied.

After a near stare-down, you took a single step toward your typical route home, and he spoke again. “Come on, Belch is dropping me off anyway, and we both know it’s too cold for you to walk that far, in that little dress you’re wearing.” Patrick insisted, eyes moving over your skirt. You rolled your eyes.

“Don’t do me any favors, okay? I’m fine.”

As sore as you were, as cold as it was outside, it was still difficult to say yes. It was rumored that the girls who got into that Trans Am ended up getting a lot more than just a ride home. And you didn’t want to be around Patrick any longer than you had to, anyway.

Quietly, he said something that made you change your mind.

“Well, I owe you a favor, don’t I?”

Holding eye contact, you could see a flicker of genuine care, something you never thought you’d find in his eyes. Memories that you were so sure had faded with time suddenly threatened to invade your thoughts.

A freezing breeze pushed your hair past your shoulders, and you took a deep breath in. You looked down the street. It seemed he wasn’t going to let up.

“Fine.” You said, quietly. He still heard.

“Henry, make room for Y/N.” Patrick said, stepping out and moving the seat forward.

“Gladly.” Henry flirted, and you made your way over to sit uncomfortably beside him. The way he looked at you put a terrible taste in your mouth.

After Patrick pushed the seat back and got in after you, the car drove off into the night.

The low rumble of the engine was about the same volume of the AC/DC on the stereo. It was the only thing filling your head for a moment, until Henry put his arm around your headrest, and placed the other one on your thigh.

“How was cheer practice, baby? You sore?” He mused in a voice soft and saccharine, tenderly squeezing your leg. 

The bad taste in your mouth turned into a full-fledged knot, keeping you from saying a word. Your cheeks turned bright red.

Before you could muster up the courage to speak, the driver’s voice split the air.

“Henry, could you ease up on the royalty please?”

Henry turned to look at Belch, but didn’t move either of his hands.

“Royalty? What do you mean?”

A laugh. “She’s nominated for homecoming queen.”

You furrowed your brow, surprised that he knew your name, and doubly surprised he cared enough to look at the roster of those nominated at all. Maybe word got around about it - though how would it reach him before it reached you?

Henry smirked, turning back to face you, much too close for comfort.

“Aren’t you the ‘Derry Queen’ already?”

You wondered if the only reason they knew about you in depth like this was because of Patrick. You’d rather be the biggest name in the rumor mill than have Patrick tell them everything he knew about you.

“Yeah.” You sarcastically huffed, turning away from the boy leaning in so close.

“How do you know her, Patrick?” Vic asked, and you nearly forgot he was in the car. Vic seemed less scary than the other guys, but because you knew so little about him, the air of mystery made up for it.

“We’re neighbors. We used to be childhood friends.”

Maybe he hadn’t told them enough about you. It was a relief, but at the same time, now they knew.

The two of you were once friends, sure, but things change. People change. And now, you couldn’t be more of a polar opposite from your next door neighbor, in far more ways than one. No one else knew about it, and if you told them, they probably wouldn’t believe it.

The car slowed to a stop directly between your houses.

“You’re that white house?” Belch asked, looking out the passenger side window. Patrick opened up the car door, stepping out.

“Yeah. Thanks for the ride.”

“Anytime, lady.” He said, without the same flirty nature that everything Henry said to you carried. He began to light a cigarette as you stepped out from the back. Henry followed, getting into the passenger seat.

“See you around, Queenie.” The leader of the gang called after you.

You wished Belch had never said anything about homecoming. Getting out of the car, you slammed the door shut and quickly stalked off toward your house.

Patrick followed, the car driving off.

“Hey, wait up.”

You quickly turned around, your nerves releasing.

“Stay away from me, Patrick.”

The tone in your voice surprised him. He leaned on one leg, standing a few feet away from you.

“That’s all I’ve done the past few years. I’m pretty fucking good at it.” He bitterly mused.

Looking him up and down, you noticed how much he’d changed, how he’d stayed the same. His dark brown hair framed his face neatly, those piercing eyes both terrifying you and calming you as he stared. You remembered the days you’d spend tearing through your backyards, pretending they were jungles, up through elementary school when you’d help him with his homework, until middle school, when things started changing. Now, the mere sight of him made you feel sick - yet you could still see the boy inside that you’d once called your best friend.

He almost made you feel nostalgic; but it was only for a moment.

“Not good enough.” You said, turning back around and walking away without another glance behind you.

Chapter Two

Chapter Three