#can u tell living in hell (parents) has been weighing on me even more lately

[soldier-poet-king]

I want to live in a house with people who love me. There is sunlight coming in the windows. Something smells wonderful in the kitchen. Laughter and music drift in from another room. Maybe there are some vegetables growing outside, or a really fat cat. It isn't perfect, it's maybe cramped, maybe messy, but it's enough.

[magniloquent-raven]

Number 73 "take mine" I'm thinking jacket sharing with Harringrove (either offering the jacket) if you have time!! 💖 💖

so. it’s not jacket sharing, i hope that’s okay!! and it’s actually a sequel to your first prompt? @bambixxblue and i were talking about a fix-it sequel where billy comes back and im weak for fix-its so i ended up with this. it’s. angsty. but also. soft? idk, i hope u like it anyway!!

basically the premise is billy and hopper were both in russia and had to break out together. posted on ao3

—-

Max turned seventeen three weeks ago. It’s hard to keep track of the days sometimes but Billy’s pretty sure he’s right. It’s hard to wrap his brain around Max being seventeen. When he pictures her in his head she’s still a bratty twelve-year-old with skinned knees who doesn’t know when to shut her mouth.

He tells Hop. Tells him about the birthdays he was there for, wonders about the ones he wasn’t. Cries a little too. Funny how easy it is to do that now. It used to be an ordeal, would burn and claw at him until he broke. He’s too exhausted for that nowadays, lets his tears fall unfettered and ignores the shame that still sneaks up on him when he does.

They have to be quiet, always afraid of being caught again. Billy’s constantly looking over his shoulder, jumping at shadows. It’s stupid to risk it, for something so trivial, but he can’t stop the words from spilling out.

“You miss her.” It’s not a question. Hop doesn’t ask that kind of shit, he just knows. Which is why Billy doesn’t respond. Doesn’t have to.

He pats Billy’s shoulder awkwardly. It’s the clumsy kind of affection a father is supposed to offer and it sets Billy off again, tears dripping down his nose and cutting streaks through the dirt smeared on his cheeks.

They’re holed up in an abandoned warehouse this time. Waiting. Always waiting. The plan is to stow away in the next cargo hold with enough space but in the meantime they’re fugitives, laying low wherever they can find empty, forgotten places.

Hop tells him about El while they wait. Billy’s heard most of his stories by now, but he listens anyway. Listens to the wobble in his voice as he talks about teaching El to read, hears the question under it all, about whether he’ll ever see her again.

Billy wishes he had an answer.

~~

The first time Billy set foot in Hawkins, Indiana, he was seventeen, angry and wanting nothing more than to be anywhere else.

It’s three days after his twenty-second birthday the second time. An icy December evening, dark and windy. He’s exhausted. He hasn’t eaten in two days. He’s a patchwork tapestry of scars that weren’t there before, a battered effigy of the person he used to be, cobbled together with scraps of what he could salvage.

Hawkins is the same unremarkable, rinky-dink town it always was. Seeing it again is a relief and a punch in the gut all at once. It’s all he’s wanted for three years, but it’s terrifying.

They end up in Loch Nora, of all places. The Byers’ old house was empty, and going too far into town is risky. 

It doesn’t feel real. Standing on Steve Harrington’s front porch, suddenly all too aware of the layer of sweat and grime on his skin. This place is too clean, too quiet. Peaceful, in a way that can’t be true.

Billy chews on his thumbnail, stands behind Hopper while he bangs on the door. There are no cars in the driveway, which means at the very least Steve’s parents won’t answer the door. But there’s no guarantee that Steve even lives here anymore.

He’s getting antsy, glancing around, heart pounding.

Then the door swings open.

Billy is seventeen, half-drunk and stinking like beer, colder than he’ll let on because fucking Indiana and its shitty weather, wiping the drool from his chin when he spots him across a room, already half in love by the time he’s clambered over a couch to get a closer look.

He blinks. He’s twenty-two, pale and shivering, thumbnail still between his teeth, and Steve Harrington’s doe eyes still make him weak in the knees.

Steve’s hair is longer, brushing his shoulders, but other than that he doesn’t look any different. Except that he isn’t looking at Billy with thinly veiled contempt or anger.

“Hey, kid.” Hopper says. “Gonna let us inside, or what?”

Steve is silent. Staring, lips parted. One hand still on the doorknob, the other slack at his side. He sways dangerously, and Billy tenses, prepared to catch him if he falls over. He doesn’t, but Billy’s still itching to touch him.

“Am I dreaming?” Steve blurts, looking dazed, unable to decide who to look at and ending up unfocused and hazy.

Yeah, it’s me, don’t cream your pants. The memory feels like someone else’s. A lifetime ago.

Billy bites down on his lip, battling an inexplicable, and slightly hysterical, urge to laugh.

“Dream about me often, Harrington?” Billy says, because apparently it takes more than nearly dying and spending three years as a fugitive to get over his inability to keep his mouth shut around pretty boys (or one in particular). Though now his voice comes out soft, quiet, betraying genuine sentiment. He’s not sure if that’s better or worse than the armor of taunts he used to cover that shit up with.

Probably worse.

Steve’s looking at him. Only him. Billy had almost forgotten how addictive that is. He watches Steve’s mouth open and close, tracks the way one corner curls up a little when he lets out a little disbelieving huff that isn’t quite a laugh. “More than you’d think,” he murmurs.

And Billy’s brain shuts off. There are a thousand questions stuck up there, but he can’t get a single one of them out because he’s too busy trying to get past, more than you’d think, echoing through his head in surround sound.

He’s startled out of his Steve-induced haze by Hopper’s pointed cough.

It seems like he’s not the only one, because Steve visibly flinches, “Right, shit,” he stammers, “Get—uh, get inside.” He ushers them in, glancing around, checking the street behind them.

The Harrington residence is one of those big fancy houses with more rooms than anyone could possibly need, but that means multiple bathrooms so Steve (as politely as possible) tells them they can both shower whenever they feel like it. And he fusses. A lot. All nervous hands clutching his elbows and teeth worrying at the inside of his cheek, eyes darting between Billy and Hopper like he’s sure they’ll vanish any second and never have been there at all.

Billy isn’t sure how to deal with it, so he avoids his eyes. Then misses looking at him.

An hour later they’re all in the kitchen. Billy keeps plucking at the sleeve of his borrowed sweatshirt, trying to keep calm. It’s too much, all at once. His skin feels raw, weird and tight. The overhead light is too bright, and the smell of Steve on everything is making him lightheaded. The soft detergent scent from his clothes, the shampoo Billy used when he showered (his hair is a lot longer than it used to be, it took forever to detangle it all).

Steve makes some calls. It’s late, too late to be calling people’s houses but he does it anyway.

Not long after, the front door bursts open.

Max is taller than he remembers. Rougher around the edges. Her hair is a choppy mess, auburn waves sticking out in every direction, curling around her ears, and there’s the sharp glimmer of silver in one lobe. She’s wearing a jean jacket with a torn elbow.

And she’s crying, messy and red-eyed, not bothering to wipe the snot from her nose.

“Where. The fuck. Have you been?” she sobs, shoulders shaking, and she practically trips forward in her hurry to throw her arms around Billy’s neck.

He opens his mouth. Closes it again. Feels unsteady, like he’ll fall to pieces if he moves wrong.

“I’m here now,” is all he can manage. She doesn’t need to hear about military hospitals and Russian prisons, about being kept in a cell, wondering if he’d ever see sunlight again… She doesn’t need that right now. Hell, he’s not ready to talk about it. Might never be.

He hugs her back, torn between wanting to squeeze as hard as he can, make sure she’s real, and being terrified of breaking her.

She still uses that shitty coconut-scented soap, and that’s what shatters him. He’s crying into her shoulder, clutching the back of her jacket. He used to dwarf her, remembers her being tiny and fragile, despite her fierceness, yet now she’s supporting his weight while he buckles.

They’ve never actually hugged before, he realizes, and that realization opens a door he wishes he could’ve left closed a little longer.

Guilt. Like undertow, pulling him back to harsh reality, cold steel gripping his heart, weighing it down. He should’ve been better. Treated her better. And now she’s here, crying like she actually missed him, and he doesn’t deserve it.

He pulls away, wiping the back of his hand across his eyes.

She’s still looking at him, hands on his shoulders, a wobbly smile on her face.

Billy is overwhelmed again. It must show, because suddenly Steve is at Max’s side, eyes gentle and his soft mouth pinched in a frown, “Max. Maybe give him some space.”

She clenches her jaw, probably physically holding back an argument, and nods, stepping back despite the reluctance written all over her face.

“I’m sorry,” Billy says, barely louder than a whisper. Then he can’t stop himself from saying it, again and again, gaze fixed on the floor, tears still dripping down his chin. He has to bite his lip hard enough to draw blood to finally stem the tide of apologies. He squeezes his eyes shut, tries to will the world away.

“Billy.” Steve’s voice is soft. He has a nice voice, so Billy focuses on it, through all the angry buzzing in his ears. “Billy, I need you to nod if you’re listening.” He doesn’t want to, he wants to curl up and fucking die, anything but be a person right now because everything hurts and there isn’t enough air in this room and— “Billy?”

He bows his head, twitches, it’s barely a nod but it’s all he’s got.

“Okay, good. Can I touch your hand?”

Billy’s heart stutters, aches. He’s having a hard time concentrating through the burn in the back of his throat, the static drowning out his thoughts. He nods again.

Steve’s fingers are gentle, pulling Billy’s hand from where it had tangled in his hair. He hadn’t noticed the fingernails digging into his scalp until Steve took one of his hands away. It ends up pressed against something warm, soft material under his fingers, moving slow—oh. His hand is on Steve’s chest.

“Can you breathe with me? Concentrate on me, okay?”

He does.

Steve’s cradling his hand. He’s got callouses along the top of his palm, barely there but present. He’s breathing deep, calm and steady. But despite his outward demeanour his heart is racing, Billy can feel it through his shirt. He curls his fingers into the sensation, fingertips digging in as far as he can push them.

Billy almost forgets to breathe he’s so fixated on Steve’s heartbeat.

It does its job either way though, because exhaustion is starting to hit him as the static recedes. He sags, relaxes. Every muscle in his body feels leaden.

He opens his eyes, squints against the sudden light.

He’s almost afraid to look up. Afraid of being judged, of triggering another episode, so fucking terrified, all the time—

“Billy?”

His fingers twitch reflexively, tightening his grip on Steve’s polo.

“You good?” His voice is still so soft, and so close it hurts.

It takes several long moments for Billy to collect himself. Then he looks up.

Max is hovering, standing behind Steve with wide eyes, her worry palpable. Hopper looks grim, but then again, he kind of always does. He’s a respectable distance away, watching. And Steve… Steve is right there still, holding Billy’s hand and looking at him like he cares, doe eyes shining, fixed on Billy’s face.

“I’m okay,” Billy says, voice rough. He sounds like hell, but they all visibly relax anyway.

The room is silent for too long after that. It feels tense in a distant way, like it would be awkward if Billy had the energy to care, was awake enough to feel anything but vaguely fuzzy. He’s still got a handful of shirt and doesn’t plan on letting go any time soon. Steve’s the only thing keeping him upright, and he hasn’t let go either.

“Did… did I do something wrong?” Max asks, her voice is small and tremulous and cuts right through Billy.

“No!” he’s quick to cut in, “No. Max. It’s…” Billy trembles, stutters to a stop. He has no idea how to explain, even to himself, let alone Max. Steve squeezes his hand. His stomach flips. “It’s not your fault.”

She doesn’t look like she believes him, but she doesn’t argue. He wishes he could make it better, but he’s got no idea how.

“We should all get some sleep,” Steve says.

And that’s that. His tone brooks no argument, even in a room full of stubborn assholes. Apparently, the past few years have given Steve time to hone his babysitting skills. Or maybe they’re all just as exhausted as Billy is.

There’s some squabbling about sleeping arrangements though.

Everyone insists Hopper take the master bedroom, Steve says his parents won’t know or care, his old friends did worse than sleep in that bed. They all poke at him until he relents and trudges off, bidding them a quiet goodnight.

Then Billy says he’ll take the couch and both Steve and Max yell at him.

Billy rolls his eyes. “It’s fine, guys,” he mutters. He’s not about to make Max sleep on the weird little couch (he’s done enough to her already) and putting Steve out in his own house would be shitty. “It’s not like I haven’t slept on worse.” He winces as he says it, realizing as the words come out of his mouth that it’s probably the wrong thing to say. It was meant as a reassurance, that he would in fact be fine with the couch, because at least it’s clean and warm, but all it does is make Max look sad and put a little wrinkle between Steve’s eyebrows.

“I’ve slept on this couch before,” Max says, a stubborn tilt to her jaw, “I’ll take it.”

Steve scoffs at that, “You complain every time you have to sleep on that couch, Max. Take the guest bed. Billy can take mine.” His fingers tense when he says it, and Billy realizes they’re still holding hands. His hand slipped from Steve’s shirt while they were bullying Hopper into taking the master suite, but Steve has yet to let go.

And… suddenly he wants nothing more than to sleep in Steve’s bed. But. “Only if you come with me,” he blurts.

Which is really not how he should have said that, but it’s out there now.

“Oh my god,” he hears Max mutter.

His whole head feels like it’s on fire. “Shit. I—I mean—”

“Okay,” Steve says hurriedly, then clears his throat, “Yeah. That. That works. Uh. Okay.” He’s glancing at Max awkwardly, nervous, but she just rolls her eyes. Billy barely notices her do it, too busy looking at Steve, his heart hammering.

“Steve, it’s okay. I’m—” It’s her turn to look uncertain, but it’s only for a second. “Me and El are dating. We’ve been trying to figure out how to tell everyone, and—yeah. Anyway. I’m not going to judge you, or whatever.”

Well, that was not at all what Billy was expecting. He takes a moment to worry about both of them, be terrified of what would happen to them if someone found out. Then he remembers that El can kill people with her brain and Max once threatened to castrate him with a spiked bat. The knot of anxiety doesn’t dissipate but he’s freaking out less.

“How long has that been going on?” Steve asks, sounding more bemused than anything.

Max turns pink, and it’s kind of fascinating to watch. She’s flustered. That’s adorable. “Since, um. Since April.”

“Happy for you, kid,” Billy says. And he means it. He barely knows El, in theory, but really. The kid’s been in his head. He could recite every story Hopper’s told him about her from memory. He died protecting her.

He knows her well enough to know she’s good for Max, and he loves Max enough to want her to have good things.

She grins, bright and real. Billy’s fairly certain he’s never seen her that happy before, and his heart clenches.

“I’m not sure who I’m supposed to give the shovel talk to here,” Steve says, more to himself than anything.

Billy snickers, and tugs on Steve’s hand, “Like you could take either of them.”

Steve steps closer, looking faux-offended, “I’ll have you know I won a fight once.”

“Yeah, three years ago. You’re a has-been, Harrington,” Max chimes in.

“Isn’t it past your bedtime?”

“I’m seventeen, dingus.”

“You’ve been spending too much time with Robin.”

He missed them so much. Missed something he, if he’s being honest with himself, never really had in the first place. They both hated his guts before, and he… he was a mess. Still is. Just a different kind now. But being here, being part of this, is something he always on some level wanted and…

“Oh my god, Billy, are you okay?” Max asks, concern bleeding into her voice.

He’s crying again, smiles through the tears. “Yeah. Yeah I am.”

[sweetbitterpdf]

oh! 25 and 99?

( angst/fluff prompt list !!! )

25. “What the hell were you thinking?!”

99. “I fell in love with you, not them.”

... so i think this is the longest prompt fill i’ve ever written? this idea originally came to me in the shower, in the form of one of them being taken in by the other for whatever reason, and that leading to a confession. because i (and a lot of you guys!) are super into the prince AU i have going as of late, here’s a third part to that. i hope u all enjoy ✨✨✨

3.4k words / marriage, crying eliott, nighttime confessions, & kisses at sunrise

---

Lucas is torn out of his slumber by someone shaking him. His eyes blinking open in the darkness, he can make out the silhouette of one of the royal advisors.

“My lord, my lord—” He straightens up, upon seeing Lucas awake. “My deepest apologies for having awoken you.” As Lucas’ eyes adjust, he can see the concern, plain on Léon’s face.  “You have a visitor.” Lucas looks out his window, just to ensure that it really is, in fact, nowhere near sunrise.

 “A visitor…?” Lucas’ eyebrows furrow, perplexed. “Léon, it’s the middle of the night, what is—”

 “It’s Eliott.” Léon clears his throat quickly, straightening his posture. “Ah, his royal highness, rather— he’s downstairs.” Lucas is up and out of bed in a moment. He grabs for his pants, clothing himself quickly. “He appears rather distressed. He asked for you.” Léon speaks as Lucas hurries around his room, as he finishes pulling on his clothing.

“Take me to him.”

---

Lucas thinks of another time, when Eliott was in trouble. He had fallen ill, when they were both very little. He thinks of when Lucas heard the news, and how his brain shut down completely— save for a desperate, thrumming need to get to Eliott, to help him somehow. He thinks of the fact that this feels just like back then— his feet are moving faster than his brain. As Lucas runs down the staircase, he sees his mother and Eliott, in rapid succession. Firstly, he’s relieved that she’s aware of Eliott— secondly, though, he runs at Eliott, pulling him into a hug without a single word.

“Eliott?” He asks, his voice coming out in a pant. He didn’t realize how hard he had run until he comes to a stop. His racing mind matches his racing heart as he holds Eliott, as Eliott holds him. 

“Lucas.” Eliott’s voice is so tired. Lucas hasn’t seen him in months, and he wonders how long whatever’s weighing him down has been doing so. He wants to ease Eliott’s burden, without having to know what it is.

“Are you alright? Are you safe?” Lucas doesn’t know what he’d do if Eliott answers no. He knows where the armoury is— he isn’t the best at wielding a sword, but he would fell a million enemies, if it was for him.

“Yes, Lucas I’m—” With him so close, Lucas can hear the way Eliott’s voice quivers, the way his breathing shakes. “I needed to see you.”

“I’m here,” Lucas says, avoiding the way his cheeks warm by pulling Eliott closer, by combing his fingers gently through his hair, “I’m here.” His mother is talking to one of the hands who accompanied her. He looks over Eliott’s shoulder at her.

“Mother, is it alright if he stays?” He asks, though he’s sure that he’s far too old for such a thing. He may only be a prince, but he’s seventeen, he’s an adult. 

But, “Of course, sweetheart.” She says, nonetheless. “I’ll send a messenger to your parents, letting them know that you’re safe,” His mother turns, facing Eliott. “And I’ll get everything together to accommodate an extra person, for the next couple days.” Lucas softens, thankful. “Eliott— both of you, get some rest, please.”

“We will. Goodnight.” Lucas’ mother walks off, satisfied. He then turns to Eliott, curled in on himself, his eyelids heavy. “Come on.” Just as they start up the steps, Lucas pauses. “Not that I’m not happy to see you, of course I am. But what are you doing here? In the middle of the night, no less?” 

Eliott thinks, for a long time. Lucas has never seen him spend so much time weighing his words.

“I’ll tell you, I want to tell you everything, but can we just—” He puffs out a breath. “Can we rest, for now?”

“Of course.” They ascend the stairs as the servants extinguish the lanterns, the darkness climbing up behind them.

---

When Lucas opens his eyes, it’s still dark, and he is alone in bed. He thinks that Eliott’s arrival may have just been a dream, before he turns and sees him sitting on the window sill. He’s looking out over the land, one leg hugged to his chest, the other hanging off the ledge, his toes brushing the floor as he swings his leg back and forth gently. The moonlight sets his jawline aglow. It makes him look so ethereally beautiful that Lucas’ breath leaves him, that all he can do is stare. Lucas averts his eyes on instinct, when Eliott looks at him— but when Eliott’s gaze stays, he can’t help but look back.

“I was getting married.” Eliott says, looking back out the window.

“What?” Lucas asks, his voice heavy and raspy with sleep. Surely he didn’t hear Eliott correctly, surely—

“That’s why I’m here.” Eliott says, his voice steady enough to scare Lucas, just a little. “I was getting married, and I left my wife-to-be at the altar.” Eliott looks out the window, then down in his lap.

“You— Eliott, you what?” That spurs Lucas out of bed. He wants to get close, but he’s hesitant, during a moment like this. “What the hell were you thinking?! Leaving a crown-princess? At the altar?! That’s—” Treason, he nearly says, though he’s not sure about the nuances of such a matter. Leaving anyone at the altar, though, crown-princess or not… it’s not good.

Eliott’s lips press together to form a tight line, “It’s… a long story.” 

And so, Lucas pushes away the fatigue pulling at his his eyelids, ignores the way sleep still makes his limbs drag, and sits across from Eliott on the windowsill.

“I’ll listen, for as long as it takes.” He says, and counts the way Eliott’s features seem to soften, almost imperceptibly so, as a little victory.

“I didn’t tell you this then, but it started on my nineteenth birthday. After all the festivities had ended, and I was back with my family, they sat me down, and my mother said that it was about time I got married.” Lucas can tell that looking back on this isn’t easy for Eliott, and he’s not sure which he wants more— to know, or to comfort. Because he’s not sure he can do both, right now. “They had gotten married when they were both seventeen, she had said that they had wanted me to get married then, but they allowed me a few years of lee-way. But she basically said, ��we’ve found a princess, not too far off from here,’ and they had arranged a marriage for me.” Lucas is shocked. He’s shocked less so at the notion of Eliott being part of an arranged marriage— it happens to princes all the time, especially those in line for the crown— he’s shocked that he didn’t know about this, about any of it. “And I didn’t want to, right from the beginning. But I went with it, because I felt like I had to, for the good of my parents,” When Lucas looks up at Eliott, Eliott is looking beyond him, looking through him. “for the good of the kingdom… And it worked. For a while.” Lucas wants to get closer, to take Eliott’s hands in his, to kiss them softly, to pull him in, hold him close again and never let go. “We met a few times, she was smart, witty… This girl, I really started to feel like it could work, like we could fall in love, live happily ever after, you know?” Lucas nods, thinking of someone as smart as Eliott, someone as witty and light and enamouring as he is. 

He can’t.

“—But then things started to go all circular, repetitive. It was the same stuff: the same problems, over and over.” Eliott pauses, and Lucas— unsure of whether or not he’s waiting for a response, breathes out a quiet ah. “She could never lose an argument. And the arguments grew more and more frequent. Especially over the wedding.” Which I didn’t even want to have in the first place is left implied. With every step of the story, every brushstroke of the bigger picture, Lucas only grows more horrified for him. “It became more and more apparent to me that I didn’t want to marry her. I couldn’t.” The way Eliott shakes his head, the way his voice has gone soft again, weak— it sounds as if he’s about to cry. “I couldn’t deal with that for the rest of my life. But it was too late. The wedding was scheduled, it was only a few weeks away, and I felt more trapped than ever. Everything was set in place, there was nothing I could do. I couldn’t bear the thought of disappointing anyone.” Lucas can picture it now, in terrifying clarity— Eliott, stood at the altar, overwhelmed, trapped. Lucas sees himself there, too— with all of the knowledge of the situation that he now has, with all of the hurt that Eliott feels. Trapped, in a completely different way. 

“—And so I let it happen. Right up until the procession.” “I was stood there, waiting for her. And then I saw her. She was beautiful in her dress.” Eliott smiles, then. There’s something in it— affection, fondness, but not love. “But it was then, that I realized. Leaving would be letting everyone else down, but staying would be letting myself down. And so I ran. I ran as far as I could bear, and then I hid, for a while.” When they were little, Lucas would hear stories of Eliott hiding himself away. It was years before he was shown Eliott’s hiding place, his safe haven. But from that day on, when they hid they did so together. 

“—I came back to my parents, I told them that I couldn’t marry her, that I wouldn’t. I demanded to set out the circumstances of my eventual marriage myself. Told them I wanted to marry someone that I choose, and that I wouldn’t take no for an answer. They ultimately accepted— though not without demanding that I pen a lengthy apology to the girl I almost married.” Lucas can tell that Eliott’s story is effectively over, by the way his shoulders relax, by the way he looks over to Lucas at long last. “But it’s worth it. After nearly a year, I feel free again.” They’re quiet for quite some time after that.

“Eliott,” Lucas is speechless, sick. On instinct, he wants to apologize. I’m sorry, he wants to say, I’m so sorry you had to go through this, I’m sorry I didn’t know, I’m sorry I didn’t do anything— “Why did you go through all of that by yourself?” Lucas leans forward, taking one of Eliott’s hands in his. “I could’ve… Been there, for you. Why?”

“Because it wasn’t your battle to fight, Lucas.” Eliott’s voice bites, but only in the manner of a wounded animal, scared to reveal its wound. He’s calm again, just as quickly as he lashed out “Because I didn’t want to burden you.” He squeezes Lucas’ hand gently, drawing circles in Lucas’ hand with his thumb.

“Everything is harder on your own.” He stands up, offering a hand to Eliott. When he takes it, he leads him back to the bed. “A healer told me that, once.” Lucas sits down, and Eliott beside him. Silence creeps out between them for a beat. “Eliott, do you remember, when we were younger, and you said that you knew I’d always be by your side?” Lucas watches as his gaze drifts off elsewhere, assumedly remembering their early days together— and Lucas lets himself remember, too— I’ll never not want you by my side, and do you trust me, and nothing is more important to me than you. In times of trouble, Lucas remembers Eliott’s words from all those years ago— he just hopes that they’re helpful for Eliott, too. 

“Yes.” When Eliott says it, it’s only a breath, barely there. Lucas could very well have missed it, had he not been paying attention.

But with Eliott, he’s always paying attention. 

“I want to, I will, but you have to let me.” When their eyes meet, Eliott’s are so big, so blue. “I want to be there for you, always, through everything.” Eliott stares him down silently, to the point where Lucas wavers under his gaze, just a bit. His eyes are wide, his expression unreadable. Before he can ask what’s happening, Eliott’s looking down at his lap, and then back up a moment later.

With tears streaming down his cheeks. 

“Eliott,” Lucas is on him in the blink of an eye, pulling him into his chest, “Oh, Eliott.” He can feel Eliott’s shaking breaths, they make his body tremble. In, out; in, out.

And then, all at one, Eliott lets go.

He cries, and he cries. He lets the emotion flow out of him, lets the past year leave him at long last. It’s a floodgate, the way the tears flow— he lets one go and a million more come, unstoppable until there’s nothing left, until he’s weeping softly into Lucas’ shoulder, now soaked. Lucas says nothing, as he holds him. He doesn’t silence, he doesn’t judge— all he does is hold him close and keep him there, for as long as it takes. The night takes his sense of time away— it may have been minutes, it may have been hours— but Eliott’s breathing eventually evens out. Lucas still holds him, though. He keeps him close, until Eliott pulls away himself. When he does, though, their hands are still loosely linked.

“Lucas, I want to tell you something.”

“Of course.” Lucas says, without thinking.

“No, Lucas.” Eliott breathes out a sigh, and Lucas is concerned, at his reluctance. “This something… it’s not like the other somethings.” If Eliott’s just told him all this… Lucas is suddenly unsure that he wants to know what else Eliott has kept from him. “This isn’t just anything— but I need you to promise me, first.”

But it’s Eliott.

And so—

“Anything.”

“I don’t want you to promise, if it’s not something you can keep. If I tell you this, and you don’t feel the same,” Feel the same? Lucas wonders, with a steadily intensifying sickness, in the pit of his stomach. “Because your companionship means more to me than anything that this may change.” He thinks of all of the Lucases and Eliotts that may exist elsewhere, in this world and others. He thinks of all of the things that could be happening to them, the different things that every Eliott, existent in this moment, means.

Lucas is quiet for a long time, then “Yes.” 

“Yes?” Eliott asks, and Lucas nods.

“Yes, I promise.”

“I didn’t love her, because I couldn’t.” Lucas only grows more confused. Eliott using cryptic words is nothing new, and Lucas is just as mystified as ever.

“You couldn’t?”

“No,” Eliott shakes his head, and Lucas follows the motion. “Because I was in love with someone else.”

“Oh.” When Lucas laughs, it’s more of a breath than anything else— a quick scoffing sound, there one moment and gone the next. “I can understand why that would create a problem.” All of a sudden, Lucas finds himself looking at the ceiling, at the floor— anywhere but over at Eliott. 

But then.

Then—

“You.” Eliott’s voice is calm, soft— but it cuts through the quiet night air. In a breath, the sickness in the pit of Lucas’ stomach is spreading up, sending a tingling throughout his entire torso, because— 

“... Me?” Lucas asks, dumbfounded, awestruck. When he finally risks a glance up at Eliott, he finds that Eliott’s gaze is steady on him, steadier than it’s been all night.

“I fell in love with you, not her.” Eliott drags his fingers back and forth across the palm of Lucas’ hand. “I realized it recently, but it happened long ago— I’m not even sure how young we were.” He can only look back up at Eliott when his gaze falls back to his lap again. When Lucas looks at him, though, there’s the smallest of smiles on his face. “But when I realized, it was like a light coming on, like a homecoming.” The way they’re stealing glances is a game of cat and mouse, but this time, Eliott has him trapped— he looks away, briefly, but he can’t for long. He opens his mouth to speak, more than once, but the words won’t come— “Lucas, please say something.”

They won’t come because—

“Eliott, I—” Because it’s been years. It’s been years of Lucas going hot under Eliott’s gaze, to the point where he’s adapted to it, developed an immunity. “I don’t—” Because he dreamed about this moment, then shoved it deep enough within him that he stopped dreaming about it. “This is like a dream—” But still, impossibly, it returns.

“A good dream, or a bad one?” Eliott asks, looking up at him from behind his eyelashes, his face turned downward. Lucas feels himself on a precipice— one that even the thought of approaching terrified him, for so long. But now— now— he lets himself stand on the edge of it, over the great unknown. 

As he kisses Eliott, he lets himself fall. He kisses Eliott for every iteration of himself— past, present, future. And Eliott kisses him back, again and again and again. Part of Lucas is waiting to wake up— but with the emotion flowing out of him, all at once— he knows this is real. Even his best dreams weren’t nearly as good as this.

“I was eleven.” Lucas breathes, once they finally part. He doesn’t know when his hands rose to Eliott’s shoulders but he keeps them there, to keep him close. Eliott’s smile in back in full force— for the first time all night, Eliott looks like Eliott again. His eyes are still closed and he looks a bit dazed, as if he’s coming back to himself, and Lucas can’t resist kissing him again. “When I fell in love with you, I was eleven.” He thinks back to then, when everything felt strange and new— especially the warmth in his chest whenever he looked at Eliott, newly tall, suddenly so much more than he was— taller, older, more settled into himself than Lucas could ever be. “When you had grown tall, for the very first time, that’s when I knew.” Now, though, everything is stripped. They’re not two princes, two people at the cusp of their adult lives, so much responsibility, so much to keep up with— they’re just two boys kissing, and kissing, and kissing. “I love you— I have loved you, since then.” Eliott’s eyes are so big, and he is so beautiful, and Lucas can’t resist kissing him. “Ardently.” He says against Eliott’s cheek, “devotedly,” into his jaw.

“For six years.” From Eliott’s tone, he thinks he’s saying it more to himself than anything else, taking it in.

“For six years.” Lucas confirms. Eliott pulls him back in, sliding his arms around Lucas’ waist and pulling him into his lap, just a bit.

“Why would you wait so long?” Lucas can feel Eliott’s lips move as he whispers the question against his skin, his hands roaming all over Lucas’ back. Eliott pulls back, but he leaves their foreheads pressed gently together.

“Because you’re worth it.” He doesn’t even have to think about answering— he lets his heart take over, lets it lay him bare. “Because I knew that, if this was meant to be, then it would be.” He runs his fingers through the hair at the nape of Eliott’s neck. “If the world brought me you as a friend, then I would content myself. No matter how desperately I wanted more.” And wanted more he did. No matter how much time he spent denying it, how vehemently he tried— it’s only ever been Eliott, for him. “Because you’re a gift, no matter how I have you.” Lucas chuckles as Eliott hides his face in the crook of his neck. His face is so warm as it rests there, he wouldn’t complain if they stayed like that forever. 

“What if I told you that you can have me in any way,” Eliott says, his breath tickling Lucas’ neck in a way that makes his breath hitch, “every way, that you desire?”

Lucas looks out the window, seeing the beginnings of sunrise, and thinks of all the possibilities, of all the Lucases and Eliotts, all the universes in which they’re together like this. 

“Then I would fancy myself the luckiest man in the world,” Lucas says as he pulls Eliott down, their laughter quiet as they kiss again (and again, and again).

[szopenhauer]

Do you like Chanel purses? no

When was the last time you had Pepsi? ages ago

Do you know anyone with exaggeratedly big muscles? not personally

What is your favorite endangered animall? elephant

Can you name someone with the same last name as you? my parents

Who was the last person to scream your name? ...

By the way, that wasnt meant to be perverted.  too late  I have no idea why I thought about that - no one ever screamed my name this way and nobody ever will :x

Do you struggle to articulate your thoughts and feelings? it seems Name something that you are doing tonight. nothing and I realized that I don’t want to go to sleep more than ever before, I just don’t want to wake up tomorrow and yet I’m scared of dying (suffering)

Do you like the smell of a barbecue? nah

Would you date an 18 year old at the age you are now? too young for me Are you more likely to show affection through your words or your actions? words I guess Do you have an easy time falling asleep? I wish Are you a crier? crybaby Do you like to wear makeup? no Do you have a high tolerance for people? pfft Do you like your bed? why not How many times have you been to the ER? few

Are you wearing shorts? basically never

Do you eat randomly, just whenever the hell you want? ...

Did you have trouble getting up this morning? yeah What’s a few things that automatically make you go, “Awww”? cute little dogs Do you have soft hands? Do you like holding hands? do I? I like to hold hands tho What’s your opinion on perfumes that are REALLY expensive?  dumb, I hate perfume but expensive - that is ridiculous! Have you ever really hated a teacher and practically made it clear you did? Conceal, don't feel, don't let them know. Are you a little bit cautious around horses? Do they scare you a bit? I’m just a cautious person in general  If you could live next door to ANYONE, who would you want to live beside? love of my life, I mean - we can live together but for now it would be cool if we were neighbors at least, you know what I mean? Do you think your friends are pretty? Do your friends think your pretty? what friends... Are you currently worried about your parents finding out about something? maybe mom about that one particular thing that starts on S and ends with X

What is your opinion on air pollution? less cars!

Were you forced to read ‘The Odyssey’ in high school? from what I remember

Who was the last person to come visit you? M.

When was the last time you shaved your legs? recently

Do you own any superhero shirts? nope

What is your opinion on the “Team Edward/Team Jacob” shirts? I dislike Twilight

If you had to teach a class, what would you teach? if I really had to then art

How did your parents meet each other? personal

What profession do you think is the most under-appreciated? garbage collectors, those who clean the streets or hospitals, postmen etc.

Have you ever drawn on someone while they were sleeping? don’t do that

Does time really heal all wounds? Or is that just a trivial saying? trivial saying

Where is your favorite place to take a nap? I don’t do naps but my bed

Would you rather lose all your old memories, or never be able to make new ones? not be able to make new

Have you ever swerved off the road to avoid hitting an animal? I don’t drive

What’s a tradition you hope never dies out? it’s a secret

Do you have any exes you’d consider dating again? I’m dating my ex 

Have you ever went a year without getting your hair cut? yes Do you think you could go a week without sugar? without sweets? I already do, I don’t even drink tea with sugar  Would you be willing to go one day each week without meat? absolutely Do you feel comfortable telling people how much you weigh? whatever Are you any good at sewing? I know basics Have you looked at any old photos of yourself lately? this year Do you carry a calculator around with you everywhere? I don’t need it that often Do you like to plan things out or just go with the flow? plan but not strictly

Do you garden at all? If so, what types of things do you grow? I help my parents which I find pointless because there is always much more work than results Do you consider cooking to be an art? when done right How many pairs of sunglasses do you own? too many considering that I barely wear ‘em ^^” Are you a fast or slow reader? fast Would you ever spend $500 on concert tickets? hell no Do you know anyone who looks like you? there was a gal who was similar to me on tumblr but younger than me, I lost contact with her  Do you get nervous when you go to the doctor?  yeah :( Are you a short tempered person? oh well...

Does it take a lot to gross you out? I’m easily grossed out  Last time you seen an ocean: never saw ocean in person Do you collect sea shells? not as much as I used to

What is one change you need to make in your life this month? lets not talk about it, ok?

Would you have sex with the last person you texted? done Are you planning on kissing anyone tomorrow evening? she’s gonna be busy working Do you require a lot of private time? yasss Have you ever told a guy you were a lesbian to get him to leave you alone? it’s because I’m a lesbian lmfao If you have a favorite television show, who’s your favorite character? in my most fav shows plot was more important to me than characters tbh, it’s hard to explain, I hope I’m not the only one who thinks this way haha but in Buffy I didn’t like Xander and Angel was annoying even though he was necessary, I wasn’t a fan of Faith and didn’t understand Riley existence in the universe, also Dawn changed a lot for worse but I swallowed it with patience, in Call the midwife I felt crappy when they took Chummy and Jenny away, I didn’t watch newest episodes so I have no idea who Lucille and Valerie are, I horribly miss sister Evangelina :(

What’s the best part about flying? don’t ask me, I’ve never been on a plane

Did you ever watch Sailor Moon? fragments

Chocolate or Vanilla ice cream? vanilla

If you had to get glasses would you wear contacts? I’d prefer glasses

Are mac’s really better than PC’s? I’m a PC gal

D0 y0u l1k3 t0 t@lk l1k3 a 5c3n3 k1d? *cringe*

When you were red and green clothes do you feel like a Christmas Tree? lol

What TV show has the best theme song? hard choice

New Year’s Plans? I don’t plan to live that long

Would you agree that Sex and The City is the best show ever? no way, I didn’t even care enough to watch one episode of it

Do you call your friends with red hair “ranga’s”? wtf

Have you ever been surfing? me? surfing? r u kidding?

Would you feel funny if you kissed somebody of the same sex? excuse me, I’m into women exclusively

Name a thing in your room that other probably don’t have in theirs: me ha!

What’s your best jacket like? comfy :3

What’s something you can cook or bake like a pro? nothing 

If you could pull off any hairstyle, what would it look like? I have couple of ideas ;)

What is the worst thing that happened so far today? my failed appointment as I didn’t get any answers nor help for my heart condition and allergies and that was the last attempt, I have no other ways of fixing things to survive next months, my life;s officially over, I only have suffering and fear left, I’m a burden and I want to kill myself sooner than food or cardiac arrest 

Did that ruin your day? it ruined my LIFE

What’s something good you’re looking forward to? sweet relieve of death?...

What’s something that you think is really cute?

*wish it was mine

Describe your feet: eww, why, better not

If you see somebody crying, do you start crying too? depends

How do you like your hoodies? oversized, without kangaroo pocket in front and/or a zipper, yuk

Is having to pee really badly worse than being really thirsty? it is to me at least

Were you a cute baby? I was a red haired potato

Are you talking to anybody right now? online 

How tall are your tallest socks? I kept my rainbow knee high socks but I don’t use them anymore

Are you waiting for a phone call? at night?...

Do you look forward to swimsuit season, or get really nervous? I was skipping swimsuit seasons for over 10 years until this summer - I bought the cheapest and went to stand/walk in the water and sit on a beach despite my insecurities 

If you could live for a year with any foreign family, where would you go? don’t wanna, scary

What do you wish people would pay you to do? browse the internet XD

Do you take good pictures? I try

Should you be doing something else right now? wash my hair, drink water, commit suicide - who knows

Did that question make you nervous? that question made me sad 

Why don’t girls like porn? some enjoy it 

Tell me a memory of this summer: this summer is all about romantic love, illnesses and nostalgy

Do you think it’s pretty when 100s of balloons are let loose into the sky? a waste but still pretty, sorry love, I know you’d be irritated so don’t worry - I will never do smth like that to ya

[thethespacecoyote]

So I found the Bad Things Happen Bingo blog last night and of course put in a request for a card...and the trope “locked in a trunk” apparently inspired me enough to write all this even though I haven’t received my card yet so....here we go...

Uhh modern AU? And warnings for parent/child abuse and claustrophobic situations. Brendol Hux is a fucking asshole, what else is new. 

It all starts with a simple request.

“Move in with me.”

Hux halts the rim of his coffee cup right before his lips. His eyebrows lift in surprise for a moment, before slanting back to their usual place.  

“Father won’t like that.”

Kylo snorts, resting his chin in his palm.

“So? You’re old enough not to need your dad’s permission for everything.”

Hux hums, leaning back into his chair. The late afternoon breeze brushes the scant strands of hair not combed back in the style he wears to work. Kylo likes when they meet at this cafe and he can see Hux a little more relaxed, not weighed down by his work or studies. Still clad in his perfectly ironed grey dress shirt, of course, but with a more casual air about him.

Grey is a Monday color. Hux usually grows a little more vibrant as he gets through the week. On a particularly good Friday, Kylo might even see him wearing blue.

“Hey.” Kylo reaches across the table, tapping Hux’s hand.

“Promise me you’ll at least…ask. Okay? Start a dialogue.”

Hux huffs.

“I think you know how well ‘dialogues’ with Brendol go.” His lips alternate between a flat line and a frown, as if imagining such a conversation. He sets his empty mug down onto the table, letting out a sigh.

“Fine. I will…try. Later.” He slings his book bag up over his shoulder, before moving to leave.

“Hey.” Hux stops, only for Kylo to grab him by the collar and pull him in for a kiss. He shoots Kylo a frown belied by the blush in his cheeks when he pulls back. Kylo only winks and pats him on the chest.

“Good luck.”

Three hours later and back in the comfort of his own apartment, Kylo decides to send Hux a text. Mostly to see how things went, and definitely not because he’s thinking how nice all of Hux’s personal belongings would look alongside his.

>>6:34pm

Hey howd it go with the old man?

Kylo rests the opened phone atop his knee, looking back around the living room. He’ll have to tweak his cleaning habits, stop draping his workout shirts over the arm the couch before he remembers to launder them. Hux isn’t quite a neat freak but Kylo’s seen his room and the order that he keeps, and he would prefer not to drive his boyfriend completely crazy once they move in together.

Hux has always wanted a cat. The landlord requires a deposit but Kylo thinks it might be worth it. He’d cover it all out of pocket if it meant getting Hux to agree.

Kylo hopes he will. He’s been considering this for a long time, working up the courage to show Hux just how much he means to him, how seriously he’s taking this.

>>6:46pm

if hes being a dick you can always just come here u know

It wouldn’t take them too long. There’s not much furniture Hux would have to move in, after all. Most things in the house belong to his parents and he hates their taste with a passion. Kylo can’t really blame him—he’s seen the Hux residence many, many times, and he’s not impressed. It’s bizarrely antiquated, and stuffed full of his father’s ornamented trophies and old military curios, as well as familial paraphernalia that Kylo can’t understand anyone would want.

“What the hell is that?”

Hux drops his book bag atop the ottoman, turning to where Kylo bends over a huge, black and gold trunk against the far wall of the sitting room, lying beneath a rack of Civil War-era swords.

“That damned thing. It’s hideous, isn’t it?”

“I’ll say.” Kylo raps his knuckles against the lid, knock resounding in the dense wood.

“You know my granddad threatened to lock father up in that thing when he was young and misbehaving?” Hux sneers. “Shame, honestly. I would’ve left him there to rot.”

“Hah. If only.”

Two hours later, and Hux hasn’t answered any of his texts.

It’s then that Kylo starts to get worried.

Phasma says Hux is interviewing for grad school upstate.

When Kylo presses her for more details, though, she tells him she hasn’t actually seen him, just heard word from his parents. To her credit, she doesn’t seem all that convinced, but waves off Kylo’s more extreme concerns.

“Armie isn’t useless. He can handle himself.”

And that’s true. Kylo knows this. And he certainly doesn’t want to be—overprotective. At least not so badly that it’ll end up driving Hux away. He’s just asked the man to move in with him, he doesn’t want to push his luck and scare him off.

So he gives Hux a few more days. Kylo texts him from time to time and leaves a voicemail once, hoping for a response, but doesn’t want to come across as desperate, or creepy. He’s worried, obviously, but if Hux has his reasons for keeping his distance, then Kylo’s going to try to respect them. Even if the possibility that Hux is ignoring him hurts.

On the third day Kylo finally decides to go by Hux’s house to see what’s going on.

He dislikes both of his boyfriend’s parents for obvious reasons, but if anyone’s going to know what happened to him, it’s them. So Kylo bikes to the ritzy urban neighborhood Hux lives in, zips his hoodie up over the metal T-shirt he’s wearing, and rings the doorbell.

He hopes it’s Hux’s stepmom who answers the door—she seems to like him, at least outwardly—but to his misfortune it’s the reddened, squinty-eyed face of Brendol Hux that peers from beneath the chain lock. He always reminds Kylo of a bulldog well past its prime, toothless and arrogant.

“Oh, it’s you.” Brendol hisses, openly disdainful. A usual greeting.

“Mr. Hux,” Kylo starts, deciding it best to ignore the vitriol. “Is Armitage in?”

Brendol’s bushy eyebrows furrow, lower lip jutting out.

“No.”

The door starts to swing close, but before Kylo can hold himself back he grabs the handle and holds it firm.

“Wait!” Kylo’s never liked to sound desperate, especially in front of Hux’s parents. “I…where is he?”

Brendol’s face colors deeper with anger, quickly snapping back.

“Not here. He’s out of town. Let go of my door, boy.”

Kylo glares, searching the part of Brendol’s face he can still see between the door and the jamb. Something’s off, even for the pompous man he’s come to dislike, and for a moment he wonders if he could force his way inside, interrogate this bastard as to Hux’s whereabouts.

“All right. Tell him I came by,” Kylo says, knowing Brendol won’t. He releases the handle and lets the old bastard slam the door in his face, leaving Kylo alone on the stoop.

Cold breezes at his hair, making him shudder even with his sweatshirt. He looks up, searching the flat, dim windows of the home, fruitlessly grasping for an explanation.

Hux, where are you?

By the fifth day Kylo thinks he’s going to go crazy.

He tries calling Hux’s phone again but it doesn’t even go to voicemail now. It must be out of battery, which is insane—Hux never lets his phone run out of battery, he’s far too paranoid not to be in constant contact with his job, his schooling, his boyfriend. Unless he’s being isolated on a mountaintop as some kind of perverse MBA interview, Kylo’s no longer buying that excuse.

Not that he really bought it in the first place.

Phasma says she’ll try to file a missing persons report in the morning, provided they don’t hear from Hux. Kylo can’t wait that long.

The sun is already setting by the time Kylo decides to go back to Hux’s house, this time not planning to take Brendol’s bullshit. He has no evidence but he knows the old bastard’s lying. Hux, changeable and prissy as he can be—wouldn’t cut off contact with Kylo for no reason. Not after everything they’ve been through together. He just wouldn’t.

Kylo pumps the pedals of his bike furiously, cold wind whipping his hair out of the bun he’d tied it back into. He tries to focus on not hitting cars or other pedestrian but his mind is already racing a mile ahead, right to the ornate porch of the Hux family home.

He doesn’t understand how, but he knows Hux is there. After all, he promised Kylo he’d talk with his father right before he disappeared. He’s convinced Brendol’s done something, that somehow he’s keeping Hux in that house, isolated away from everyone who cares for him.

But Hux isn’t stupid. He would’ve figured out a way around his parents, find a means to contact Kylo, or Phasma, or his work. He must have.

Unless he’s unable to. Kylo’s worst fears creep up as he takes a turn too quickly, nearly wiping out against the asphalt. His heartbeat hammers, sweaty fingers clenching around the handlebars.

No. Not even scum like Brendol would sink so low. He couldn’t. What could possibly be the reason? Hux has never gotten along with either his father or his stepmom, but they were still his parents.

They couldn’t. Unless—

—Brendol has never liked Kylo, never appreciated his closeness with his son. He’s always looked at him with contempt, like he’s tainting something valuable with his mere presence. So Hux has kept their relationship away from his father’s eyes—at school or their favorite cafes, or Kylo’s apartment.

“He’s obsessed, you know.” Hux rests his head on Kylo’s shoulder, hand sheathed in his boyfriend’s larger one. They sit on Kylo’s large couch, hardly paying attention to whatever’s playing on the television.

“Your dad?”

Hux nods.

“It’s like he was born in the 1800s. He wants ‘heirs’ to carry on the family name.”  He breaths out, derisive and tight. “He’s insane.”

Kylo squeezes his hand, resting his chin atop Hux’s head.

“I mean. We could always adopt.”

The chuckle Hux lets out is humorless.

“Right. He’ll never accept that.”

Maybe Brendol has never quite understood the depth of his and Hux’s relationship. And Hux has kept it that way, until—

Kylo pushes his bike even faster, heat and anger brimming behind his eyes as he envisions what might have happened. Hux is a fighter when backed into a corner, even in arguments with his father, he wouldn’t have—Brendol must’ve—

Kylo’s mind guides him through the mental map he has of Hux’s house, digging into every niche, trying to uncover what must’ve happened to Hux, where his boyfriend could possibly be—

Then he’s in the sitting room, and some unbelievably force is pulling him towards the northern wall, right beneath the rack of oxidized, heirloom swords as Kylo’s ears fill with the sounds of a distant scream.  

He can barely hold a shock of tears back as his heart drops out of his chest.

Kylo halts his bike in front of the Hux residence, letting it fall against the sidewalk as he storms up the steps. He forgoes the doorbell and slams his fist below the knocker, pounding into it until the door wrenches inwards to reveal Brendol, still protected behind the chain latch.

“Again? What do you want?” He spits, already furious, but Kylo won’t let himself be turned away this time.

“Let me see Armitage.”

“No. I told you, he’s not here.”

Kylo keeps his grip firm on the handle, preventing Brendol from closing it on him.

“Let me in.”

“No. Leave, boy, before I have you arrested.”

Kylo scrapes his knuckles against the door’s carved decoration, lips snarled in anger.

“The only person who’s going to be arrested tonight is you, you monster.”

Brendol balks, mouth falling open.

“Really? All this, over such a runt?” The man shakes his head, looking at Kylo with open disgust. “He’s gone, boy, and you’d best forget about him.”

“I won’t!”

Kylo roars and rams as hard as he possibly can, inwards, and before Brendol can react the latch rips from the old wood of the front door, scattering splinters as the golden chain swing wildly. Kylo pushes through the doorway, shoving Brendol aside as he takes off out of the foyer and down the hallway. He can hear Hux’s stepmom scream from the dining room, then the sound of twin footsteps hammering after him at different paces.

Thankfully, Kylo can outrun the pair of them—and he already knows exactly where he’s going.

The persian rug in the main hallway bunches up beneath his feet as he abruptly turns into the sitting room, where he and Hux had spent many an afternoon hanging out after work or school. It’s the most palatable room in the house though that’s not saying much—full of weighty, old-fashioned furniture, tacky wallpaper, and the smell of aged upholstery as it is.

Kylo grabs the heavy armchair he used to sit in, scraping up the hardwood floors as he shoves it in front of the door, locking the carved back beneath the handle. Moments later the door shakes with impact, knob frantically turning in place. Kylo backs away as Brendol screeches and slams his fist against the heavy wood, intimidated only momentarily by the man’s vitriol and threats before he turns around and stares across the room to the furthest wall.

The trunk sits dark and huge and hideously ornamented, right where it had always sat every time he and Hux had wasted hours in this room, studying and talking of the future, stealing a kiss and sometimes more whenever his parents were out of the house—

“Can you open it?”

Hux lifts his eyes from his textbook, tilting his head to the side as he notices Kylo looking at the trunk.

“Sure. There’s a key on the bookcase, right by granddad’s picture.” Kylo follows where Hux points, landing on a black and white portrait of a severe older man. “There’s nothing good inside it, though. No hidden treasures, if that’s what you were wondering.”

Kylo shakes his head, smirking.

“And here I was, planning on marrying you for your fortune!”

“Pfft.” Hux rolls his eyes before returning to his studying. “You’d have to pry it from my father’s cold, dead hands first.”

Kylo races over to the bookcase, nearly tripping over a gaudy footrest in his haste. He grabs for the fourth shelf up, knocking over Hux’s granddad’s photograph as he grabs for the key braced up against it. The brass feels cool against his sweating palm but calms him little as he stumbles over to the trunk and lands on his knees before it.

Hot tears already leak from the corners of Kylo’s eyes, hands shaking between rage and fear as he fumbles with the key. A harsh sob breaks from his lips when he nearly drops it, the weighty brass hard to keep hold of as he jams the toothed end into the lock.

The pounding on the door continues. He can hears Hux’s step-mom shout something about the authorities, before Brendol angrily cuts her off. Kylo tunes out the argument, turning the key into the lock and opening it with a heavy click he can feel in his throat.

The lid swings up and open of its own accord, base of the trunk rocking only slightly with the weight inside.

A strange noise claws from between Kylo’s lips, wrought with pain so deep it doesn’t even sound human.

At first he thinks Hux must be dead. He’s so small, bunched up and forced into such a cramped space, his knees jammed up to his chest and hands resting beneath his cheek. A bruise had blossomed and died on his face, its edges already fading to yellow. There’s dried blood on his forehead and fresh underneath his fingernails—whittled down to the quick—and it’s painfully more vibrant than his skin, even his hair. The usual warm ginger locks look wan and limp, and he’s so pale and still and thin and he’s dead.

At first Kylo can’t even touch him, one palm clasped across his face, soaking up his tears and soft whimpers of no and please. But then the door shudders from impact, and Brendol’s roaring from the other side, shouting swears and slurs, and Kylo pulls his hand away and tries to breath, to calm himself enough so that he can finish this—even if it means confirming the worst.

Hux is still in the dress shirt Kylo saw him in last, the light grey fabric wrinkled and grimy. The inside of the trunk is dirty, velvet dusty and stained and smelling, a sickening coffin for someone as fiery and strong as Hux, and Kylo knows he needs to get him out of here, that he doesn’t deserve this, but it’s so hard to get his arms to move, not after the effort of lifting that key, knowing what he’d find inside—

But just as Kylo finally reaches into the trunk, trying to figure out where to put his hands first, Hux’s face twitches. Kylo gasps, holding his breath as he watches, for another sign of life just to confirm it’s not his grief-addled brain playing tricks on him. But sure enough, before his eyes Hux’s lips part, a slight cough disturbing the red dust at the bottom of the trunk.

“A-Armie?” His voice is so small, so tight, it doesn’t even belong to him. Kylo wishes it didn’t, wishes he didn’t have to be the one pulling his boyfriend out of a fucking trunk—

Hux doesn’t respond much to his voice, his reddened eyelids only fluttering slightly. With more care than Kylo’s ever used in his life he slips his hands into the trunk, beneath Hux’s hunched shoulders and bent legs. There’s not enough room to stretch him out all the way so he lifts his torso up first, canting his shoulder so Hux can rest his head as he lifts him up and out. His legs finally are allowed to unfold, dangling limply over Kylo’s forearm.  

He sobs again, harder, when he feels how light Hux in his arms. He’s always been a little on the scrawnier side, but Kylo’s never been able to feel his ribs through his back. Has never been able to hold him like a child, like a delicate treasure on the verge of disintegration.

All Kylo can think it’s that it’s been five days. Five. Days.

Hux is still so cold and still in his arms he almost can’t believe he’s still alive, that he could’ve possibly lasted that long without suffocation, but as Kylo cradles his boyfriend he can’t deny that barest breath between cracked lips. He clings to it, in fact, the fragile thread that still holds Hux to the living world.

Kylo’s sure to hold his boyfriend close while not confining him—never confining Hux ever again, never would he be trapped like that, oh God, Kylo would never allow it—

Hux moans, his head resting against his Kylo’s broad shoulder. His bloodied fingers twitch against the fabric of his boyfriend’s shirt, curling weakly into it as his eyelids struggle to open. Kylo shakes his head and tightens his grip, pressing his lips to the top of Hux’s hair. It’s lank and dirty, smelling of sick and the musty interior of the trunk but Kylo inhales deep anyway, salvaging the barest cling of familiar shampoo on Hux’s scalp.

“Everything’s going to be okay, all right?” Kylo says a little too loud, perhaps leaning into hysteria, but he wants Hux to really feel it, to know immutably that he’s safe, that no one else will ever lay a hand on him again.

Kylo stays holding him, cradling Hux’s brittle body even as he cradles his phone between his ear and shoulder, even when the cries of Brendol and his wife are drowned out by the scream of sirens as they light the sky outside the sitting room’s only window red. He parts from Hux only when a new voice and a measured knock sounds on the door, and by then his boyfriend’s eyes are opened—the vibrant green now dull and rheumy, his cheeks glistening with quiet tears.

Kylo gets him out of that house quickly, and though Hux looks waxen and exhausted against the bland canvas of the stretcher, it’s a far better sight than what had greeted him when Kylo had first opened that trunk.

Even as he kisses Hux’s scraped knuckles, riding beside him in the ambulance, Kylo knows only a thousand nights spent sleeping at his lover’s side will chase that image out of his nightmares.  

[pvvrkvvng]

﹤JEON JEONGGUK, HE/HIM, CISMALE﹥; * - hello VIKTOR PARK. long time no see. i know a lot about you. like how you're TWENTY ONE, how you're a PRE MED major, and in fact.. how you HOSPITALIZED YOUR FATHER. would be a shame if it got out, wouldn't it ? so let's play a game. 𝚃𝚁𝚄𝚃𝙷 𝙾𝚁 𝙳𝙰𝚁𝙴 ?

hiiii yes...i’m late as hell to this JKSJKDFDFJK BUUUUT here is a little bit about our boy vik xoxo like or message me on discord to plot please! 

tw: suicide mention, bullying mention

viktor was born with two young parents (ages 17 and 18) in a small city in russia, he grew up not having much because his parents were both poor. 

he was heavily bullied while growing up because he didn't speak around people at all and he was skinnier than the other children. his parents decided to leave everything behind and move to america. 

unfortunately for vik, the bullying didn't stop. he was still small, still a mute and still 'weird looking'. the other children wouldn't let them play with him so he made up imaginary friends. 

sometimes he was caught smiling and giggling at himself which resulted in him to getting bullied more. he wouldn't tell his parents about it because there was simply no time to tell them. they were enjoying their time in america with new friends and partying all the time leaving vik home alone. 

living a lonely life of independence, he started to develop a consciousness that he'll never be happy. he'll never have friends anyway! so at the age of fourteen, he snapped. he fought anybody that crossed him. 

you purposefully try to trip him down the hallway? punched. you mock something he says from the back of the room? bitch, he will get him from his seat and walk back to where you are and start swinging. you even LOOK at him sideways in the hall? he's smacking you. 

he's gone to counseling for his short temper, but nothing seemed to work. his parents seemed to be growing tired of his attitude and he didn't have anybody to vent to. when viktor turned eighteen, figured that he didn't want to live through life anymore. 

he grabbed his father's gun from the downstairs closet, walked to his bedroom, closed the door and turned the safety off the gun. his life was in the hands of a weapon. while sitting on his bed and lifting the gun to his chin, his father bursts in with a surprise gift, startling vik. he accidentally pointed the gun at the door and fired. 

thankfully for vik, he missed anything important but his father passed out from shock to realize what even happened. how could this have happened?!

"uhh...i don't know." was all that vik could answer, along with some fabrication that it could've been a robbery. everyone believed him because they figured he didn't know what happened either. there was a suspicious detective that noticed the bullet was familiar, but the family brushed it off. 

feeling guilt weigh on his heart, he decided to go to university just to get away from his parents and figure out his life. maybe it's a more private place to commit suicide. as dark as it sounded, no matter how many times he tried, he'd think of the look on his father's face when he shot him. he couldn't take their only child away. 

PERSONALITY 

very quiet and standoffish. will probably glare at you as if you are crazy if you're a stranger speaking to him. he tries not to come off as rude, but his temper is extremely short. he's only patient with people who have a good spirit...or people who like anime and isn't insufferable. 

N E R V O U S! he doesn't seem like it but he's actually screaming on loop for 24 hours in his head. he doesn't like the thought of parties unless his friends are there and he overthinks everything. "i would get a bagel in the cafe downstairs, but what if i leave my station, realize i left my keys mid-walk, turn around to get them, slip up the stairs, then crack my neck and die? i'm good." 

sweet and mean. he's a major tsundere, giving backhanded compliments and regrettably hugging you when you're sad. the thought of affection is what he craves, but he also doesn't want ANYBODY to touch him. not that it's a big issue, he's just not very used to it. he's harsh with his words, but you can truly tell when vik cares about you. he'll do little things to make sure you're okay. 

soft as hELL. will doodle you in class and fold it for safe keeping, has pastel room decor instead of all black like most people would assume, had his first everything in college, a great cook, he likes getting his head patted, etc. he's a weirdo. 

passionate. he will argue you DOWN about something he knows he's correct about. he'll stop what he was doing and make sure he walks out of the argument making it clear that he was right. he argued with a child at a barnes & noble once about how subbed anime is superior. 

CONNECTIONS

EXES (taken): he only dated cynthia. this man is undatable, he will shy away at the thought of being important to someone it's sad. (1/1)

RIVALS: he is always trying to one-up them in his head, making every single thing a competition when it's not. blame his aries sun. (0/2)

FRIENDS WITH BENEFITS: "wait, you actually want to fuck me? i mean i'm in, but...geez, standards." (0/3)

ONE-SIDED CRUSH: vik has the biggest crush on them, but they can't know. they'll never know. he'll just treat them slightly nicer than everyone else and hopes that they will feel something in return. (1/2)

MUSE: vik likes to paint and draw, he wants someone in the group who would be down to let him paint and sketch them whenever he gets the chance. even take professional pictures of them so that he could marvel at how beautiful they are. (0/2)

GAMING BUDDIES: he gets very into mario kart...he apologizes in advance. (0/2)

[thesecrookedbones-blog]

the collection.

“I think yer book’s makin’ it worse out there, y’know? Girls’re disappearin’ faster than ever. What’re ya even doin’ about it? You think ya can come here with yer fancy education and yer fictional little books. This’s real life, slim. Emily’s a good girl. Comes in all the time gettin’ supplies to keep the neighborhood strays well fed. What’re you gonna do when her body shows up like the rest of ‘em?” Buck’s tenure in Chilling is measured by the way his teeth sit ground deep toward his gum line. His brows sit low against his eyes, like anchors dragging along rebellious eyes that no longer wish to see the pain around him. I know from what city hall records I could find, that Buck has owned this general store since 1983, inheriting it from his father before him. Southern hospitality is only known to the locals, like some kind of localized slang. There was never any welcome wagon for Nora and I. Any words of encouragement actually sound like a shotgun shell being loaded into a sawed off chamber. Or the coarse friction of a knotted noose. “Just the lightbulbs today, Buck. It’ll probably cost me extra for the lecture and I’m short today.” “You think yer so funny, Mr. Typewriter? You come into town an’ just look what you’ve done.” His words hiss past stained yellow teeth, syllables clicking like a slow trotting horse. The teeth were appropriately reminiscent of a horse too - in their prime. Back before the Copenhagen dips and malt liquor sips before sunrise. Behind the halitosis breath is a venom Buck has never spoke to me; something I have been too afraid to mention. His daughter was one of the names on a growing list of the missing, and later deceased. The Collector had left her in a deer carcass bag after collecting his trophy. It was her tattoo from her right shoulder blade, memorializing her mother with bumblebees and sunflowers. Two of her most favorite things. Layla Carpenter. She got inked underage at 17 after her mother lost her battle with breast cancer. It’d been a badge of honor. I could tell it from the way she showed it off in off-shoulder dresses and floppy tank tops. She smiled wider for Polaroids when the tattoo was in the photo with her, like she’d mastered the ‘glance over the shoulder and smile’ pose just to honor her late mom. She’d been missing since 2000. She was The Collector’s first. He kept her the longest. Her body was discovered exactly one week after Nora and I moved in; lakeside nearest our property. Her body melded with the burlap carcass bag, decomposing so harshly that the medical examiner couldn’t tell flesh from bag. Often even after severe decomposition, special wavelengths of light and photographs can enhance ink in any remaining tissue. There was nothing to enhance - but everyone knew The Collector’s calling card. Her tattoo was in his possession. A token of his kill. “Just ring him up, Buck. Fer Pete’s fuckin’ sake.” I nod my appreciation to Todd. He’s one of the few neutrals I have in this town. His eyes betray him in hiding the spark of curiosity I know he feels. He has no pawns; no one on the growing list. Hell, Todd lives alone in the home his parents expired in. He has no one to look after him as he expires and no one to lace his grave with flowers once he’s gone. He has nothing to lose. “Thanks,” I say, tucking the paper bag against my shoulder, though my eyes lock with Todd - the only person who deserves my gratitude. Back at the house, I leave the bag beneath the flood light fixtures that seem to have shoddy wiring. The fixture eats through bulbs at least once a week, somehow feeding too much power while still causing the ominous orb to flicker in and out. I check my watch. School will let out soon and Nora will be home. She’s been bugging me about this light. Any kind of darkness makes her feel uneasy. I can see it in the way every layer of her spine pricks as she rounds a dark corner, helplessly reaching for a lightswitch. Plugging the six-foot wood-runged ladder down beneath the flood light fixture, my shoe centers the rung and haphazardly trusts my weight to it. It flexes but the screws snar and it holds. Gravel sounds behind my back as I twist a fresh bulb in. I’m in a pissing contest with the rest of this town, careful not to show fear or cowardice, so I don’t turn my head. Fingers yo-yo the lightbulb to a tightened position and the footsteps behind me still. I finally sneak a glance.“Yer so fucked.” I don't know him by name, but he's recognizable as one of the local meth addicts. What about him? I try to paint a mental picture of his face and I’m lost in non-distinctive identifiers. Bugged eyes, a toothless grin, sunken cheeks, and clothes that loosely swing off of his bony structure. Is he a suspect? He laughs at me, his hollow soul echoing behind him as he continued on. He's probably hallucinating, I tell myself and finish with the second bulb. The ladder gets returned to the corner filled with dust bunnies in the garage and I discard yet another bulb box. The basement of the home is bunkered beneath ground; a safe haven from tornadoes. It is the only place I trusted my work, given the lack of any natural daylight. It’s the space I get lost in, drawn in like a moth to lamplight. As I descend on creaky, wooden steps, I decide - it’s time to start Emily Marx’s chapter. The latest missing girl. Keys gallop against paper freely, a brainwave on a stroke of genius. The latest victim is fresh in my mind. Bright eyed with a bright future, given the academic records her parents’ failed to share with me. They slammed the door in my face, blaming me for opening this can of demons again. They thought my soul needed saving. They hoped to see me in church on Sunday morning. Her body hasn’t been recovered, but it’s nearing two weeks. I expected her to be the next ink to his collection after 48 hours. Death is the sole consumer in this barren land, its hunger accelerated by demons sworn off by bible verses Sunday morning and ill-will cast against family and friends after a few swigs of whiskey post-service. Blasphemy pulled straight from the bottle. Hours wash away outside without notice. The south has a way of filling your pores with heavy heat and slugging you down, zapping Father Time until seconds rock by slower or the mind’s ability to be conscious of it slips away. Each chapter takes its toll. Another life vanished into the thick air, often in stark daylight. The moment they encounter The Collector, they become another ghost; a wisp of heavy wind to remind us all that Chilling is haunted by a living being. I find myself in the position I often end up in with this book, face curtained with my hands as I count the breaths it takes to make me feel better about it all. I still haven’t found the number. Then it dawns on me. The silence overhead. Usually the kitchen floorboards would creak as Nora dances around the kitchen, preparing another meal without company while I try to figure out the great mystery of Chilling, Missouri. No creaks have sounded above to distract me from proper sentence structure or finding the perfect word that’s just hibernating at my fingertips. No, it’s been oddly silent. I feel uneasy all at once, but disallow panic as I jog up the straining basement stairs. The kitchen is dark, as is the living room, and entryway hall. Upstairs sounds just as quiet, but I run up nonetheless. Nora perfects stability in my schedule, trying to make my life look somewhat normal. She never falters - but I’m the inconsistent one. Maybe I didn’t listen or didn’t remember. She could have parent-teacher conferences. Maybe some kind of after-school tutoring session. Maybe some other after-school activity. I pretend I don’t hear the stress battering through ragged breaths. Where would she be, where could she be? Tires squeal into the school parking lot. It’s empty. Her car is nowhere to be seen, but I still run toward the front doors, truck barely stuck in park. It’s dark inside. Not a soul to be seen. There I stand, in a pained shred of reality. I didn’t even notice she didn’t come home. I check all of the possible spots, and Chilling has a limited selection. The diner, the gas station, the library, the post office, the general store. No sign of her car. I stop outside of the old run-down drive-in that has only been used as vandal grounds for the last decade and find my hands shaky as I dial the sheriff’s department. “My wife - fiancee - is missing.” It’s better not to go to the office in person, I decide. They’ll waste precious minutes vetting me, seeing only an unfriendly face they already suspect to be all kinds of evil. “She - school gets out at 2:30 and she’s usually home by 4 at the latest, depending on what kind of students need help after-school. ...Eleanor Coulson. Yeah. Middle is Winona. She’s - her birthday is June 29, 1986. Look, can you just - I am being calm.” My lip quivers and heat streaks down my cheeks. The speedometer ticks to 65, the big truck’s steering wheel quaking within my palms. "She’s like...5’6” or 5’7” and can’t weigh much more than 100 pounds. She’s small, but she’s mighty.” The sorrow touches the back of my throat and I cough to cover the emotional choke. “No, no scars or tattoos.” It's an identification question, but it feels pointed and my answer washes gooseflesh down my neck. The female voice on the other end of my call drifts into a cavernous hole as my right foot shifts from gas pedal to brake, tires crying against warm pavement. I can hear my heart rattle my skull, vision blurred with thoughts lashing against positivity. The previous girls with their mangled bodies, tattoos sliced from their skin, torture evident in their demise - it all bleeds forward until the female’s voice rises, “hello?” “I - her, her car. I just found it on Highway 26 near milepost 17.” A long pause. “He’s got her.” 6 hours later, I return home after police interrogation. I’m the prime suspect in the tragic story I’ve supposedly created. I sit there in the driver’s seat, hands folded beneath my nose and listen to the waves of fear wash over my knuckles. Within eye line, the flood light surges and flickers, faltering between a vivacious glow and the absorption of death. I watch intently, hoping the light will stay lit. Lightness in the dark - a symbol of hope. But the light hisses and with a dull gurgle, it flickers to black. A tear rims my lower lid. He’s got her. Her life will burn out just like that bulb. Hot air fills the truck, my throat rattling with rage as a low growl precedes the words I will die by if I must: “The collection ends now, you motherfucker.”

[osmw1]

Poison-Wielding Fugitive   Chapter 36

Cold sweat drips from my brow as I apply more poison to my bolts—the kind that can take Elbatoxin down. But as soon as I break eye contact with it…

“Yukihisa!”

Arleaf dives and crashes into me.

“Whoa!” “Kya!”

As we collide in a thud, I look beside me at the girl who just ran into me, only to find no one there. Arleaf had been sent flying against the wall by Elbatoxin.

“Arle—”

I was just calling out to her only to have Elbatoxin swipe its tail at me.

“Argh—”

I get thrown to the ground, rolling round and round. Ow… I hadn’t been injured in a fight lately; I’ve forgotten what it felt like to hurt from head to toe. Somehow, I stand back up. I clutch my arm and focus on Elbatoxin.

‘You mustn’t look away from me, boy. But this is wonderful, just wonderful! A little more… and I can erase every living being from this region. First, though, I must create more followers.’

I suddenly recall Veno’s reminiscence of that decisive battle with the man who dreamed of reclamation. A creature fiendish enough to selfishly sacrifice underlings for their own power… and that feeling of disdain for that vile creature come to mind. If I don’t do anything against Elbatoxin now, then not only will I die, but Arleaf and Muu as well. So will Arleaf’s parents and the others in the dungeon. And everybody in this whole area. Of course, also the Midnight Blue Wolf Alpha. I’m afraid Elbatoxin will—save for its own minions—massacre every last being.

‘Now then, shall we get back to your “mercy” and “benevolence”? Oh, that’s right. I’m the one who should be the one saying all that. I’ll tell you what. I’ll let you live for a little longer if you just turn around and start running. I’d just love to see Veno Yveval with his little tail tucked between his legs!’

Is it giving us a chance to escape?

‘Ding ding! Round two!’

No. Elbatoxin just wants to play with its prey it thinks we are. With that little bit of time, though, and if we could escape… I can’t come to terms with that. More importantly, I don’t want to give up. But can I turn this around?

‘… aye. We have one last option.’

Veno mutters in a low voice.

‘The toxins of the girl’s cooking still do the bastard much pain. Look at its labored breathing. And, it is absorbing as much mana as it can from nearby.’

I glare at Elbatoxin. Veno’s right. It’s breathing heavily, and probably not because it’s angry.

‘Elbatoxin may seem like it has the upper hand on us, but it, too, is cornered. It must be very desperate to kill us here and now, while we still seem weak.’

But all I can do is weaken Elbatoxin. My attacks don’t seem to be able to be lethal to it. I’ve thought of using Arleaf’s poison as well, and if all goes well… I might be able to knock it out. But it’s really all or nothing. Much too risky for comfort.

‘Perhaps not. Perhaps…’

Veno continues on after the slightest hesitation.

‘If all goes well, thou art not only able to weaken the monster, but to slay it for good. But there is a price: essentially, we are to tell our pursuers where we are.’

… what do you mean?

‘Doth thou remember how before we entered the dungeon, the altar’s strength flowed into me? That trifling amount I have recovered then is enough for me to bury Elbatoxin. The price to pay is that our pursuers will be alerted to this discharge of power.’

So, in other words, even if I kill Elbatoxin, we still have to flee the village and escape the guys chasing us.

‘Aye. Not only can I not guarantee this peace we had until now to remain, but the villagers will also learn of thy fugitive status. They will likely curse thy name. But even then… shalt thou find the conditions acceptable?’

I look over to the girl who took a bullet for me, as well as Muu and the Midnight Blue Wolf Alpha. It’s almost as if it wouldn’t be surprising if you told me they’ve died already. Man, I’m really in a pickle here.

But I think of the villagers. Even a stranger of an adventurer like me was welcomed with open arms and treated like a friend. Would I rather have them treat me with scorn? Or would I rather just run away…?

… heh. Did you even give me a choice? You’re a real jerk, Veno. “Take responsibility,” right? This is nothing more than a continuation of taking responsibility. If it means saving these guys, I’ll tread on the thinnest of ice! No time to waver now.

Veno replies with… what seems to be a soft chuckle.

‘Thou hast but one shot. Try not to miss.’

An icon displaying the name of a skill pops up in my vision. Even the details and the knowhow to activate it comes to my mind.

‘It’s time for your choice! Are you going to shamelessly run away or are you going to take me on, even when I’m so big and powerful now?’

Elbatoxin looks calm and cool. I noticed a small piece of Arleaf’s Poison Cooking rolling on the ground, seemingly to have come out of nowhere. I stuff it in my mouth. Arleaf must’ve dropped it when she was slammed against the wall. It may be improper to eat food off the ground. It may even give me the runs. But I’m a Poison-Wielder. The poison coursing through my system is sure to kill off the germs.

Arleaf’s toxin immediately begins to circulate in my system, making me stronger and replenishing the health and mana I’ve lost. Veno only has the power to give me one chance at this.

Elbatoxin’s going down. Veno hands me a bolt and I grip it in my hand. I apply Slow Poison to it with Poison Enchantment… then stick it deep into my arm.

‘Hahahaha! Has the pain gone to your head and made you a masochist?’

Blabber all you want. This is my own way of Self-Recovery. Just like Arleaf’s Poison Cooking, my own poison gives me buffs too. The pain ebbs as the poison circulates and Slow Poison gives me a buff to agility.

“Get a taste of this!”

I stoop down low and rush Elbatoxin as quickly as I can. I don’t have the time to pick up my weapon it smacked away. But this is fine. My crossbow may be light, but it’ll only weigh me down now. I use Poison Release to build up the thickest mist I can with swamp toxin. Then, I run straight at Elbatoxin. It swipes and swipes with its claws spread out.

‘What’s this? You still don’t know the huge difference between our strength? Fine by me. Now perish!’

Elbatoxin, still taking us lightly, tries to slash me with its claws. The sword that was on Arleaf’s back flashed, almost as if it were synchronized to the beat of my heart.

‘W-What the?!’

The light had not only surprised Elbatoxin but momentarily caught its attention. —gotcha! I deflected its foreleg with my hand and sent it flying. It gets chopped up exactly how I move my hand.

‘Gaah?!’

Elbatoxin falls back after losing a limb. This chance that Veno’s given me is using that small amount of power he recovered to resist against Forced Possession Summoning. The skill goes by the name of Dragon Claw, befitting a dragon like Veno. Not a single normal monster would live it through.

‘Augh… is that all you have? I’ll show you true stre—’

In a literal split second, Veno struck Elbatoxin through a crack in dimensions. I don’t think it saw that one coming.

‘Nay, let me show thee.’

Veno clutched the one functioning foreleg and pulls Elbatoxin through the gap in space. Into the dimension inside me, caused by Forced Possession Summoning…

‘W-What are you trying to do?!’ ‘Dost thou understand not? Surely ‘twas thee who wanted “round two.”  I shall be thy opponent in this dimension where I am trapped!’

Using Spatial Compression Magic, Veno drags Elbatoxin into the tiny dimension that he is trapped in. I bet it’s an all-you-can-Dragon Claw in there.

‘N-No! Stop! Let me go! Let me goooooooo!’ ‘Thou hast treated me with such disdain and contempt, almost as if thou hast forgotten my power. Come now, let me help thee remember.’

Try and try as Elbatoxin did to resist, it could not best Veno’s strength. After all, the force is trying to keep Veno locked up in there. No doubt it’s strong.

‘Aaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhh!’

It ended up being pulled completely in by Veno.

‘Hahaha… I have been waiting. Time to jog thy memory.’ ‘Eeeeeeeeek!’

I could hear blows after blows before what sounded like Elbatoxin being ripped to shreds. And then… tranquility.

“… muu?” “Awoo?”

Almost immediately afterwards, the crystals and the Bloodflower pattern on Muu and the Midnight Blue Wolf Alpha disappears. The duo get up as if nothing ever happened.

“U… ugh.” “Mu!”

Realizing Arleaf had been bashed into the wall, the two rush to assist her. They even get medicines and ointments out of her pack to apply on her wounds.

“Y-Yukihisa, what happened to the monster?” “I defeated it.” “I’m so glad. But…”

Arleaf, who’s just starting to regain consciousness, unwedges herself out of the wall of the cave and stares at me.

“Ah… right. Well… you know. Stuff happened. Umm… promise not to tell anyone?” “No… see, I’m a…”

That’s all I could tell her before she passed out again. I look over to see her gas mask has cracked open! Shit! How do I fix it?

‘Simply use thy hands to seal the gas mask. Do not underestimate thy Poison Absorption.’

Veno’s totally speaking with his mouth full of food. Hey, what the hell are you eating?

‘Hmm? What, thou ask—'

You know what? Don’t tell me. I already know. I’m just astounded by how you can eat at a time like this.

‘Is that right?’

More importantly, though, is that everyone seems to have gotten better right after Elbatoxin died. How convenient; it’s just like a game. But so inconsistent!

‘No, actually, it is not so. After dragging the bastard in and analyzing its magic, I have used a counteracting skill to cause Bloodflower and Dorimsvoyta to self-destruct.’

So, you stole its login and password to remotely destroy its handicraft? Or maybe it’s more accurate to say that you analyzed its code and wrote an uninstaller.

‘By and large, thou art correct. I used the mana I acquired from the scum to do so, but before Forced Possession Summoning drained it.’

You really saved my skin, but you’re still in a bad spot.

‘After slaying the originator, Bloodflower and Dorimsvoyta had calmed down as well. The infection should have massively slowed down. But even then, I am worried that the rapid propagation caused unexpected effects.’

As soon as I plug up Arleaf’s gas mask with my finger…

“Cohgray! So, here’s where the monster is!”

A little late, but Arleaf’s parents along with the villagers and the Midnight Blue Wolf pack rushes on over.

“But it seems like that you’re all finished here, eh?”

Arleaf’s father looks for traces of Elbatoxin… and suspiciously stares at the track made by Veno’s claw. I’ll try to change the subject.

“Is everybody alright?” “Yeah. I really thought that we were all goners, but everyone who was down and out sprang back up all of a sudden.”

It’d be foolish if I were to chastise them for being no help. I mean, I’ve made a mess of this whole Elbatoxin fight too. But if I didn’t do anything, then these guys would’ve been toast.

“Anyway, is Arleaf okay?” “She protected me from the monster’s attack and now she’s… it’d be great if a healer could take a look at her.” “Ah, leave it to me.”

I entrust Arleaf to her parents. Arleaf’s mother casts restorative magic to treat her daughter. Luckily, it doesn’t seem like it’s anything too bad. She’ll probably be back up on her feet soon.

“In any case, the miasma’s awfully thick here, so let’s head on back.” “Yeah.”

Speaking of which, killing Elbatoxin didn’t stop the miasma.

‘It had little to do with the miasma. Of course, it had spawned a few of its own monsters, but they are fundamentally different from the monsters of the area.’

Hmm…

“Mu.” “Woof!”

The Midnight Blue Wolf Alpha, who had quite valiantly fought for me, runs over to his two subordinates, barking about something. They must be happy about how their boss is back to normal. And then look at Muu, with its axe on its back, riding the wolf like it’s a horse. We hurry and find out exit out of the dungeon. It’s still covered in a blanket of toxic gas, but it seems to be a little brighter than before.

“Awoo!”

As soon as we reach the outdoors again, the Midnight Blue Wolf Alpha howls out and lets Muu down.

“Muu muu.”

Muu shakes the alpha’s hand before the pack runs off into the distance.

‘All is well that ends well.’ “Thanks for everything."

I shake hands with Muu too. The Midnight Blue Wolf Alpha glances over at me before disappearing in a flash. The parting of comrades in a battle hard-fought. I can but pray that they live peacefully ever after.

We arrive back at the village and see that everyone has been freed from the grasp of Dorimsvoyta. What a relief. And so, tired from a long and arduous battle, I hurry back to my room and flop on my bed. The poison may be able to recover the body, but it certainly can’t rejuvenate the mind. However… I look out from the window of my room to see Arleaf’s parents with grave faces discussing about something in the town square… and curiously branding the image onto my mind.

previously: /ch001/ /ch002/ /ch003/ /ch004/ /ch005/ /ch006/ /ch007/ /ch008/ /ch009/ /ch010/ /ch011/ /ch012/ /ch013/ /ch014/ /ch015/ /ch016/ /ch017/ /ch018/ /ch019/ /ch020/ /ch021/ /ch022/ /ch023/ /ch024/ /ch025/ /ch026/ /ch027/ /ch028/ /ch029/ /ch030/ /ch031/ /ch032/ /ch033/ /ch034/ /ch035/ /ch036/ /next/

(please support me on Patreon or Paypal)

[springarms]

"Are you okay?" with nincobra? Thank you :)

ur really speaking my language with this one anon. thank u for submitting this you angel

Ninjara sighed, rubbing his tired, blurry eyes with a palm as he listened to the hum of the coffee maker. School has kept him stressed lately with midterms coming up, not to mention the massive expectations of his family weighing him down like sacks of birdshot; he’d stayed up for 3 days straight now, sparring and practicing martial arts moves on the balcony at hours in the morning he knew no one was up at, and staring at small letters on dozens of pieces of sheetwork for so long the letters looked like they pulsated and melted together when he tried to read them. He never slowed down, keeping up the steady pace of work like a finely tuned machine and not batting an eye when he was so tired he felt moments away from his entire body shutting down from lack of energy. He felt guilty even taking a minute away from his studies to make himself coffee to give him the caffeine spike he so desperately needed. He hated himself for needing sustenance. He knows he could do better than this. His bloodshot green eyes flitted back and forth, examining the marble finish on the counter until the shrill beep of the coffee maker broke his train of thought. He sighed deeply, reaching for a mug from the cabinent to pour himself a glass. He disregarded the cream, the milk and the sugar; he drank it black, almost as punishment for going off task.He fixed his messy green hair back into a ponytail to keep it out of his eyes, taking a short sip of his joe as he made his way back to the couch where his work was waiting for him on the coffee table. He sighed, picking up the pencil laid on the stack of paper and immediately getting back to work. He was encompassed in the words for a while until he heard a familiar, tired groan coming from the bedroom, along with clumsy footsteps following shortly behind. Kid Cobra yawned as he slugged into the kitchen, crossing his arms and putting his elbows onto the counter. His eyes flicked towards the coffee, already made, to his contentment. “Ah..for me? You know my ssschedule too well, hunbun…” He chuckled, his voice growly and low, like he normally sounded when he wakes up. Ninjara reddened, laughing quietly. “Yes…I’m such a good boyfriend, right..?” Ninjara sighed, running a hand through his hair as his eyes trailed back onto the page. Kid Cobra was pouring himself a mug of coffee, his heterochromatic eyes watching the ninja carefully. He looked sullen. Sleep deprived, for sure. Kid Cobra frowned, his forked teal tongue flicking out as he made his way swiftly into the living room, where Ninjara was. He sat his coffee down onto the table, going behind Ninjara and stroking through his messy green hair with a free hand. “..Up again with schoolwork, yeah? You okay? You’re always so busy…Ninja College is a hell of a lot more work than I thought it’d be. Wish you could get some sssleep.” The snake huffed, anxiety lacing his voice. Ninjara quickly picked up on that. “Do not worry about me, Cobra. I’m completely fine…It’s just midterms, is all. I’m always swamped with schoolwork during midterms. Once this is over, maybe I’ll be able to get a few hours of rest…” Ninjara was slurring his words, his eyes glazed over and dull in color. Kid Cobra knew when he was lying. “…You haven’t slept for days, Jara,” He began, hopping over the couch to sit beside him. “I know how tired you are…I’m worried. Worried about you. This ninja shit is stressin’ you out so much.” Kid Cobra’s pupils slitted as he emphasized the last word. “I know you’re doing this because of your family, too. Y-you…you wanna impress them, make them happy..well, who..w-who gives a fuck about meeting expectations if you’re suffering like this? Do..do they even care?” He lowered his eyes, hissing as his cobra hood flared out. His fists were tightly clenched. That’s how you knew he was getting worked up. Ninjara put a hand on his shoulder, eyes diverting from him so he didn’t have to look him in his. “…Cobra, please. I’m..I’ll be fine. I’m doing it because…because I want to, okay?” Cobra sighed shakily, grabbing his hands. Ninjara flinched. “Ninjara, you’re lying. You don’t have to lie to me. I just…I want you to be happy. And I know that this Ninja College shit ain’t doing that for you. I just..” Cobra paused as tears pricked at the edges of his eyes. “I want to be able to help. I feel…so helpless, and every s-single time you tell me not to worry, I worry. You go into everything you do alone, not asking anyone for help…c-can’t you trust me to help?” Cobra stuttered as fat tears rolled down his cheeks. Ninjara never saw him like this, the gravity of the situation causing him to tear up, too. “I…I’m sorry. You never tell me the way you feel about things. I never knew that it effected you so much.” Cobra sniffed, raising his head and looking his love in the eyes. “You? Sorry? You ssshouldn’t be sorry for anything. You work day and night, just to appease your shitty parents who threw you to the dogs when you were old enough to walk and taught you that you weren’t fucking good enough for anything unless you did everything perfect. You can’t ever take a break because you’re afraid you’re going to be going againsssst what they would’ve wanted…” Cobra chuckled, shaking his head and looking his boyfriend in his tired eyes. He pulled him in gently by his hands, putting his palms under his cheeks and kissing him on his lips. His hands trailed down to his shoulders, pulling him closer so he could feel his warmth. Ninjara melted in his scaly embrace, closing his eyes, savoring the moment they were sharing. They stayed like that for what felt like forever, until Kid Cobra pulled away and looked him in the eyes. Ninjara was tomato-faced and desperately wanting to close the gap back up between them, but did the same. “….I love you, so, so much. I know it takes time to write over what you’ve been taught for, w-well, basically your whole life, but…“ Kid Cobra still kept his arms around Ninjara, sighing as tears rolled down his face, smiling at Ninjara halfheartedly. “..But, we can change that together. Right after we get some sleep. You’ve got a big day tomorrow, with standardized testing n'junk, sssso…can y'promise me, just for tonight, you’ll get a few hours of sleep?” Cobra gave that cheeky smile that Ninjara loved so much, making the ninja chuckle. “…Ah, Cobra…just for you, alright?” The snake snickered, giving him a peck on the forehead. “Heh, alright, then. I saved a spot just for you, alright?” Cobra got up and grabbed his and NInjara’s mugs of now lukewarm coffee, placing them on the kitchen counter so he could pour them out later. Ninjara basically dashed into the bedroom, desperate to get some sleep. It felt like heaven on earth to wedge himself between the comforter and the sheets after days of not being able to stop working. Kid Cobra walked in, rolling his shoulders before he got into bed beside him. Kid Cobra sighed, giving his boyfriend a drowsy ‘good night, love you’ before nearly passing out as soon as his head hit the pillow; Ninjara chuckled, giving him a ‘good night’ back. He stared at the ceiling for a while, looking over at the snoring Kid Cobra that slept soundly beside him. He glanced over his overtly reptilian features, giving a soft smile in thought. The man leaned over to him, planting a gentle kiss on his cheek.

“Love you too.”

hope you like this! im really happy with how this came out tbh.

-mod biff

[szopenhauer]

Is it easy to find a job in your preferred field in your hometown?           preferred field *chuckle*

Ladies: Would you ever consider proposing? If not, why not? Gentlemen: How would you feel, if you were proposed to?     yes, I have an idea

Have you ever played the original Mass Effect trilogy?           I haven’t

If so, which Shepard and who do you like romancing the best? -             

Let’s say there’s a person in need. They need money which they can’t make. Would you be more likely to help them out, if a celebrity asked you to?       celebs should help them, not me, I need help myself!

When you go to a restaurant, do you have a go-to dish? Or do you always try out something new? usually

Would you rather live next to a kindergarten or an old folks’ home?       old folks’ home for sure

What is the best part of your most ordinary day?   sleeping :x

Do you enjoy being on your own or are you happier when there’s a crowd around you?           I’m a loner/introvert

Do you ever look up what foreign idioms mean?     yep

What’s the strangest saying you’ve come across? I don’t recall atm

What’s a First World problem that you have?         hmm...

Have you ever made a parody version of a popular song?     me and my sister were doing puppet shows for our parents, mostly her ideas as she was forcing me to perform those until I got sick of that

Which game did you play the most as a kid during recess? nie bawiłam się w większość gier przez brak zdrowia, ale lubiłam plac z huśtawkami czy drabinkami, albo udawać rodzinę/dom i te fajne białe “krateczki” z kolorowymi “guziczkami” co jak się je wpinało w dziurki to układało się z nich obrazki (nie pamiętam nazwy)

Is there a pattern on the pants you’re currently wearing? Which one? there isn’t

Does your mother annoy you when the holidays come along in the year? my mom annoys me all the time lol Do people ever ask you to do things they’re too short to accomplish? I’m too short but I manage and still some ppl sometimes ask me for help anyway Do you check the texture of things first or the smell of them? used to smell them but now just texture Have you ever broken the arm or head off of a figurine? How did you do this? I’m no Chunk :P

Do you believe in superstitious things such as breaking a mirror? I wouldn’t do that on purpose but I don’t believe in most of the superstitions, luckily there are some things you can do to avoid bad luck like throw salt over your shoulder or knock on non painted wooden thingy etc. Do you get sick of people who call themselves bi polar all the time? I’m sick of ppl who use mental and physical illnesses as excuses when they don’t have them - single headache ain’t a migraine nor being an ass makes you a border, shut up! Ever have an ultra-sound performed on you?  more than once Do you like those ‘end of the world,’ ‘Armageddon’ movies? some are good, some not Ever been choked severely on something? just a feather Has anyone ever compared you to an animal? Which one(s)? several like monkey, raccoon or cat Ever been in one of those church Christmas plays before? Why/why not? I didn’t participate but I watched/looked at them when I was younger Have you ever thrown a roll of toilet paper at someone before? ... why? Have you ever found yourself talking to an inanimate object? at times I talk to my computer (because I hate it so we argue), kettle and fridge, also my stuffed animals of course Something on the human body that grosses you out the most: penis Ever think of what it would be like to be a mermaid or merman? I thought and I wouldn’t like it besides maybe finding some cool stuff that drown  What is something that bothers you about most surveys in general? creators lack imagination, they ask the same stuff over and over again, it’s boring What is your favorite color of apple? Red, green or yellow? red Ever want to be a doctor? Is it because of all the hospital shows? noooo Do you like drawing smiley faces or do you think they’re overrated? rarely and I’m ashamed of that tbh Are you someone who actually likes to babysit children? hell no but I’m not that bad at it Do you hardly ever remember where you put things at? I have good memory when it comes to that most of the time - not counting my green scissors grrrr Where did you last buy socks from? What do those socks look like? Archelan - Christmas themed and fuzzy  Do you ever lay in the grass and look up at the sky, just because? not as often as I’d like to? Are you afraid of being kidnapped if you go outside at nighttime? raped, killed or robbed more likely Do you like showers or baths better? Why did you choose your choice? baths as I like to sit and I don’t like the glass nor have water over my head  Are you a controversial person? Do your views oppose others? it seems Have you ever thrown a surprise party for someone? Who for? nah, I dislike surprises and there weren’t opportunities/possibilities to do that Do you tap fingernails on desks? hardly ever Have you ever wanted to be in a band? What position exactly? vocalist (who can play instruments) but I have no talent but don’t worry, it was a childish dream that fade away when I found out more about live of a band member Do you ever call your cousins just to talk to them randomly? nope, we don’t talk, just say HI if anything  Do you find any of your friends’ parents creepy or really mean? yep Do you ever had to wash your clothes at someone else’s house? camp When is the next time you’ll go to the library? Why is this? we’ll see, covid situation isn’t helpful and I can’t focus on books lately Do you treat others as you’d like to be treated? Have you always? I treat them how they treat me (not authority figures/dangerous ppl tho) Were you a really mean kid or a sweet and quiet kid? sweet and quiet Are you someone who likes to get in arguments or fights a lot? I don’t like to but I still end up arguing, sigh... How do you make sure people know you don’t like them at all? avoid them, block them, ignore them fight with them when they don’t stay away (not physically yet)

How much was the cell phone you have at this moment in time? about 200 PLN  What would you do if you woke up randomly with purple hair? cool but wonder how that happened What color is the closest desk to your body? What all is on it? ugly light brown with shitload of stuff The most painful medical procedure you’ve ever had? gonna have it soon so don’t remind me Ever have a dream you’re being abducted by aliens? Was it scary? aliens tried to abduct me in dreams but didn’t succeed ha!  What would you say is the color of your favorite bra? white Do you like people who are loud or people who are quiet? not too tiring but not completely silent either Does personality weigh out the sense of ‘good looks?’ look is important but not as much as personality for sure, it’s like 1:9 I think Do you hate it when people copy the things you do? could say so Has anyone ever told you that you’re good at cooking? r u kidding?... Do you have any enemies who you think are dangerous? anyone can be Do you ever try to squeeze information out of people? Konrad once told me I’m like a private detective about it because I’m so sneaky they don’t realize until it’s too late but I sadly forget infos quickly due to stress last months so it’s not as useful as it sounds Does it freak you out when the police drive/walk by? somehow Have you ever been pulled over by the cops for speeding? I don’t drive Is anyone in your family a firefighter? Who is it anyway? I had a friend who was a firefighter

Have you ever woken up to a good morning letter beside you? left in the kitchen but informative like - I went there or feed the dog etc. Would you ever get your nails done? I can do them myself if I ever want to

Are you afraid of worms? maggots Do you wear rings on your thumb? why not How many shirts of yours are red? less than 5 Does the color red look good on you? my first therapist told me I should wear it to be more brave but it causes anger in me so I prefer not to Do you pray before every meal? Sunday lunch with parents Have you ever been caught cheating on a test? not caught but been cheating in high school How many white tank tops do you own? 0? Do loud people bother you? omg YES Does your head itch? not currently but frequently Do you know anyone named John? my ex friend had a nickname like this Have you ever tried the cinnamon challenge? I’m not stupid Are you a fast runner? like Gimli Did you ever want a pet rabbit? no way

Do you ever want to own a house? apartment more likely How do you feel about men? blergh Do you know any police officers? my neighbor was a police officer Have you ever signed a petition? lots Have you ever aspired to start your own business? I wish Who is the oldest person living in the same building as you? mom The youngest? me Would you rather pay with cash or card? cash, cards make me nervous Have you ever used a pager? I have not Do you like visiting the beach? beachcombing is fun Do you like to buy things? but not spend money lmfao Have you ever been in a polygamous relationship? I didn’t know that I apparently am - jk Is there anyone you haven’t spoken to in a long time but you still think about daily? my grandma for example Would you like to be rich? not filthy, having enough money to live and not barely survive

have you ever behaved like a stalker? *crickets* can you lie and keep a straight face? poker face game strong when situation calls for it

have you ever feared for somebody else’s life? especially dad’s do you prefer honesty, even when it hurts? hard to tell if you could pick your own pet name, what would it be? picked my dog’s  have you ever masturbated while driving? wtf, don’t do that, gross how do you feel when someone takes the last of something? without asking? *cringe* how do you feel when people tell you “bless you” when you sneeze? thank you unless I sneeze many times in a row and they bless me every single time - then it’s annoying what are you supposed to say when somebody coughs? r u ok? have you ever committed a violent crime because of a video game or rap song? who said I play/listen to those? have you ever actually overheard one of your friends talking shit about you? possibly how many partners is too many? at once or in your entire life? do you believe that wearing an aluminum foil hat will stop the government from reading your thoughts? that reminds me of the RED movie XD

would you rather have a hook for a hand or a peg leg? peg leg 100% elseway I’d end up with an eye cover as well if you know what I mean bonus points for/to being a pirate tho how close does someone have to be for you to feel obligated to wait and hold the door for them? either right behind me or carry heavy/big load do you examine the tissue after you blow your nose? for example when I worry about it bleeding  what is your cure for the hiccups? wait

Do you miss Brittany Murphy’s appearance in films? awwww she was such a good actress RIP

Is Christmas stressful? to me it is but I’m stressed 24/7

Do you make your own smoothies or juices? meh

Do you think time really does heal all? NO

Are you more sensitive to heat or the cold? cold

Did you care at all when Steve Jobs died? ... he died?

Has anyone searched your room for anything recently? my mother for dirty laundry

When do you decorate for Christmas? as soon as possible

Would you be cool with wearing sweatpants to the grocery store? yes

Have you ever been pranked via a hidden camera? am glad that didn’t happen 

Do you know any of those people who are depressed during the winter? I’m depressed year round

If a job makes you unhappy, do you choose to stay or leave? if I can change it without ending up on the street then I leave

How does your being here in the universe change humanity for the better? nothing? Who is a person that you don’t like yet you spend time with? my family member[s] How is your relationship with money? we don’t see each other as often as I’d like to ;) get it?  How do you feel about growing old someday? won’t live that long

Are you wearing two shirts? too hot for that Have you ever owned the socks with toes on them? disgusting! Can you point out constellations in the night sky? I can not What was your favorite part about studying ancient Greeks and Romans? not interested What’s the last thing you bought at a mall? food, antibacterial gel and a blanket

Is there someone who you can turn to for money and not be ashamed? parents but I’ll feel crappy about it  Have you ever swam in a river? as a child Are there any dirty clothes underneathe your bed? ewww seriously?  What food do you love the smell of while it’s cooking? smells make me sick In what month do you start Christmas shopping? I seek presents whole year then store them for later Have you ever had a crush on a celebrity of the same sex? as a lesbian What kind of flowers would you plant in your garden? bushes, grass, moss and trees, wild flowers, if they want to grow, can stay  Do you believe that kids should be taught abstinence? I agree When’s the next time you’ll go to the grocery store? not in next weeks

Where’s your car keys? not applicable Did you keep any momentos of school dances? pics Do you still have clothes from your high school? and middle school  Do you think you could do better drawings than Napolean Dynamite? this question...

Do you own anything skull print? had a shirt that I gave to John ages ago Who are the three people you consider yourself closest to? parents and my gf Which ex of yours means the most to you? my partner as we’re back together Have you taken prescription medications that didn’t belong to you? oh well... How are your social skills? awkward Have you ever stayed at a hotel for longer than two months? I’m poor Do you ever go outside to look at the stars? there were some days in past summers when me and dad been going to stadium for a walk at night, that’s when and where we saw UFO  Who breaks away from the kiss first? she as she forgets to breathe  Do you know what you weigh? thx for a reminder - they’ll ask in hospital Have you ever smoked anything other than tobacco? one cigarette was all that I smoked in me life Have you ever ridden on the back of a motorcycle? nope Do you say koala bear or simply koala? koala  Do you usually travel anywhere in the winter? I’d freeze brrr Do you wait for someone else to take the garbage out when it’s full? we take turns Are most of your friends white? it’s not America so...

Does your hair reach your boobs? not even my shoulders

What’s something that fills you with anxiety? what doesn’t?...

What age do you think is too old to still live with your parents? there’s no expiration date

Have you ever watched Bob’s Burgers? fragments

Has a teacher ever caught and read a note you were passing in class? I wasn’t that much of a note passer 

Do you know anyone who is afraid of horses? nah

Do you clean things that are already clean when you’re bored? tha hell?...

Would you rather live in a tropical or arctic climate? tropical

What do you do when someone overweight complains about being overweight? I say it’s important to be healthy but weight isn’t always a sign of being ill

Is there any Irish, Scottish, or Danish in your heritage? none that I know of

Do you find Asians attractive? yes and no

Have either of your parents ever been to jail? nooooo

Keep Calm and Carry On or Screw Calm and Get Angry? there’s time for one of each?

Do you think Urban Outfitters is overpriced? like every other similar store 

Are your colarbones prominent? yeah

Have you ever in your life worn overalls? I have indeed

How did you react when you heard Whitney Houston had died? sorry but I didn’t care

Do you think Helena Bonham Carter is attractive? she is

Would you rather listen to Dolly Parton or Dusty Springfield? Dolly

Are you watching The Walking Dead? I’m scared of zombies and gore 

Are you a light sleeper? became lighter

Would you consider cuddling cheating? it’s complicated

What does the purse/bag you last used look like? it’s black with red embroidery and white beads

Can you make a clover with your tongue? impossible

What’s your favorite coffee brand/flavor? I don’t drink coffee

Is your belly button pierced? no piercings!