#coherent warning to the cats of the living when bad stuff happens or do anything to prevent the bad stuff from happening in the first place

[exocynraku]

funny to me that warrior cats kinda had an ....?isekai-esc-timetravel plot (jaypaw getting sent like 80 years into the past) and has never done anything similar since or even acknowledged that its something that can happen

[today-only-happens-once]

Boy Band AU is Romantic LAMP (eventually)

Or, I was thinking about the boy band au and was like, y’know what? Could be gayer.

warnings: cursing, kissing, some miscommunication and angst, mentions of/fear of resentment and divorce, running away from problems as an anxiety response, getting together, happy endgame romantic lamp stuff tho

This got so long I’m so sorry, y’all. It started as just “listing fun facts about it” and evolved into a bulletfic. Woops. 

It doesn’t happen right away. In fact, it’s... a very long, slow process for them all getting together. Years down the road, actually.

They all have moments of Gay Panic when it comes to the others throughout those years, but... especially at first, none of them are really feel like they’re in a good place to enter any kind of committed romantic relationship.

And since those feelings don’t really develop strongly and complexly until later on in their lives, they fortunately already know about polyam people--though at first, none of them know that the others are also that way.

So there’s several years of sort of figuring themselves out and learning about one another in a tight-knit-friendship kind of way, and then a few more years of romantic pining and uncertainty before they figure it out haha

It’s seven years into their band career that Grandma Foster places a bet against Remy on who confesses first. Grandma Foster’s money is on Roman. Remy’s money is on Patton. 

It’s ten years from meeting each other, within the month, that the ice finally breaks. And when it does, they’re both wrong. Logan confesses first. 

though the confession happens within, like, minutes of each other. Because well--

Logan had started acting weird. And weird like, distant? And it was bothering all of them, but any time one of them tried to talk to him about it, Logan just pretended like he didn’t understand where they were getting that from. 

And eventually, they all corner him (figuratively, but kind of literally too because Logan is chilling on the couch when they talk to him) and Virgil is like “cut the bullshit, Logan” 

And it’s a long, messy conversation between all of them. Because turns out, Logan does cut the bullshit, and confesses to feeling attracted to all three of them, and he doesn’t want to make them uncomfortable and he definitely doesn’t want to lose them. and if they don’t like him back, that’s fine, honestly, he’s sure the feelings will fade (which Logan thinks might be a lie, he’s not sure, but... the alternative is losing them, and Logan doesn’t think he could handle that)

Roman confesses next. It’s like opening the floodgates of his feelings and he waxes poetic about all of them but he says it so earnestly, how he’s known he’s loved them all for years, and think he’s loved them all for a lot longer than even he realizes--

Patton is next. How Logan couldn’t possibly get rid of him that easily, not when he loves them all too and yes, yes in that way, hadn’t it been obvious?

Virgil, though... Virgil freezes. 

Because yes, yes of course he has these feelings for them all. But suddenly it feels like everything is changing, all at once, and Virgil knows he should feel relieved and happy because they feel the same way about him that he feels about them but all he actually feels is fear. Because Virgil doesn’t do well with Big Sudden Change and this feels like a Very Big and Very Sudden Change. 

On top of that, in the back of his mind, is Virgil’s parents and how they used to talk about how in love they were with each other once upon a time and somehow, along the way, that dissolved into fighting and arguments and divorce and resentment--

So Virgil bolts. Not quite literally, but close to it. He stammers out a “I-I need some air” and grabs his keys and wallet and leaves and tries not to feel the weight of their gazes on his back. He pretends he doesn’t hear Roman say his name when he closes the door behind him.

Virgil drives. He doesn’t really know where he’s going, he’s just going. By the time he’s done, he’s at the coast. He leaves his shoes and socks in the car, trying to ignore the churning in his stomach. He does have enough wherewithal to text the other boys a quick message ( “sorry. went to the coast. just need to think”) and tosses his phone in the backseat before the sense of guilt crushes him completely. 

He walks to the shoreline. The sun is setting at this point and the feeling of the sand under his feet and between his toes, plus the cool waves lapping at his ankles, helps ground him enough that his breathing doesn’t feel quite so tight anymore. 

He’s not sure how long he’s standing there, looking out at the horizon line, but he figures it must be a couple hours because he hears footsteps stepping up behind him and when he looks over his shoulder (expecting maybe Patton or Logan or Roman or all three), he’s surprised to find it’s Remy.

It’s almost 8 in the evening, so Virgil arcs an eyebrow at the iced coffee in his hands, but says nothing about. Remy stands beside him, also without shoes/socks, and stares out at the horizon line with him for a long moment before he says anything.

when he does, all remy says is, “wanna talk about it?”

Virgil just shoves his hands into the pockets of his hoodie. “how much do you know?”

A sip of coffee. “Not much. They’re worried. Wanted me to check up on you. Logan said something about ‘respecting your need for space’ but Roman said something about ‘walking into the ocean’. He was hard to hear in the background.” 

Despite himself, Virgil snorts and glances down at the water lapping at his ankles. “Only a few feet.”

Remy’s mouth quirks. “So. Do you wanna talk about it, babe, or should I just tell the boys that you’re all right and you’ll go back when you’re ready?”

And Virgil takes a deep breath that shakes a lot on the exhale, and finds himself explaining everything. About how he feels about them, how they said they feel about him, about his parents, about how everything changes and he just wasn’t ready for it and he as much as the love is present he’s afraid--he’s so afraid--that will change down the road. 

And Remy just stands there and listens. When Virgil sits down, still talking, Remy stays standing for a moment before sitting beside him. Virgil talks until the sky is mostly dark. 

When he’s done, there’s a long stretch of silence. And then all Remy asks is “have you told this--any of it--to them?” 

Which, no. He hasn’t.

“Why?”

Virgil isn’t sure. At first, it had just been sudden and overwhelming and he needed a break from the suddenness of it all, so he left. It wasn’t until the drive and staring out into the ocean getting his breathing under control that Virgil was able to sift through the minefield of his fears and thoughts. 

Remy sighs, taking his sunglasses off now that the sky was practically nightfall--only the faintest traces of dusk still kiss the horizon line--and watches the waves roll in. “Free advice is worth what you pay for,” he begins.

“That’s what Gram always says.”

“Yeah, well. She’s a smart lady.” He takes another sip of mostly-melted iced coffee. “Look, Virgil. Are you your parents? Or, for that matter, are Roman, Logan, and Patton your parents?”

“No. Thank God.”

Remy gives him a pointed look. 

“Oh.”

Remy shrugs. “Look, your relationship to those boys is whatever you want it to be. I’ve known you all for the past ten years, and I’ve been watching the way you four care for and about one another evolve. It’s become an ingrained part of who you all are as a unit. I don’t think that’s liable to change, romantic relationship or not.” 

“But--”

“And,” Remy adds pointedly, “if you want a relationship with them, and you don’t go for it because you’re afraid it will end badly... well. It sounds like you’re ending it before it’s even given a chance.” 

And, well, Virgil finds that maybe Remy has a point. The two of them sit together a bit longer, and Virgil is pretty sure it’s just Remy’s way of making absolutely sure Virgil is really, actually okay, before he gets up and leaves. 

Virgil leaves only a minute or so after Remy does. He jumps in his car, checks his phone (and tries not to wince at the missed calls from all three of them) and sees a text from Logan sent through the group text that signals to Virgil it’s probably a message from all three of them. 

It’s relatively long--unusual for Logan texts--apologizing if they overwhelmed him, a heads up that they’ve sent Remy to check on him and they understand if he wants space, reassurance that he doesn’t have to be part of their romantic relationship if he doesn’t want to and that nothing has to change (that note about change is repeated a couple of times in the paragraph of text and Virgil is reminded of how well the boys know him at this point) for Virgil if he doesn’t want it to.

Virgil feels a little bad but he’d really rather have this conversation face-to-face (er... really, his anxiety would rather do it over text, but he feels like he owes it to the other three to talk about it in-person) so he just texts back “on my way back”. 

When he gets back, they’re all still awake. Patton is in his cat onesie, Roman in PJs (with his head in Patton’s lap, and if that doesn’t make Virgil’s chest warm with unexpected affection), and Logan still wearing what he had been when Virgil left, pacing in front of the TV. 

They all look up and freeze when Virgil steps through the door and Virgil closes it behind him, kind rubbing the back of his neck and is like “guys... I’m sorry for freaking out--”

which Logan immediately jumps in with “it’s completely understandable. A lot was happening in that conversation, a lot of things probably percieved to be changing--”

“I still shouldn’t have left,” Virgil says firmly. “That was unfair to you all. I was... It was a lot, yeah, but... I should have explained more before leaving. But... I... I can explain now, if you all... have a moment?” 

They all nod, and so Virgil stammers through his conversation with Remy, if slightly more coherent this time because he’d already spilled it all from his mind once today. And he ends with what Remy had said before he left, about how none of them are his parents, and while he’s still worried and afraid of what kind of end they could all conceivably reach, it’s also not fair to not give the four of them a chance. 

So... that’s how they all become official! Also, Logan kisses Virgil first. 

Boy Band AU Taglist: @virgil-is-the-moodiest-mood, @withspaces, @iampengwing, @thecatchat, @northern-borealis, @panicatthebiggestpartyofthefall, @trans-demon-king, @sapph-writes-sanders, @flamingfawkes, @andreaissy, @legalitiesiwthabiscuit, @h-m-t-w-n, @i-didnt-say-liar-i-said-lawyer, @hazbin-hotel-has-my-soul, @nerdleafeon, @wynniwirt, @creativenostalgiastuff

[buckyreaderrecs]

So Far Away: Chapter 4/?

Summary:  Bucky Barnes doing what he does best. Saving. Loving. In this particular case, the object of both is you. (Bonus: Bucky Barnes happy, healing, doing really well!) Chapter 1. Chapter 2. Chapter 3. 

Chapter 4:  Sometimes the road to recovery is x-rays and pain killers. Sometimes, it's freeeeeesh ava ca doo.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes/Reader Characters: Bucky Barnes, F.R.I.D.A.Y., Cecilia Reyes Additional tags: mostly canon compliant (Infinity War and Endgame didn’t happen, Stark Tower still exists),  possible future smut (who knows, not me), she/her pronouns, more tags/characters to be added with future chapters, hero Bucky Barnes, canon typical violence, warzone/disaster zone setting, Alpine the cat, other Marvel characters mentioned but not central to the plot Warnings: possible triggers for anxiety, PTSD, grief

Note:  Hi! I am overwhelmingly grateful to everyone who has read this story, and heard my call for inspiration. Because of you, this chapter exists, and I have a better idea of where to take this story. Thank you all so, so much. Honestly. I hope you love this.

So Far Away Chapter 4/?

Waking up in such a soft and safe environment took a hot minute. The danger was so far away from you and comfort was so close. Slowly though, your eyes opened and you tried to sit up. Sloooow mooootion. But then, pain.

You'd apparently slept off the memory of your injured hand, leaning straight onto it. It hurt so badly that you felt dizzy, then quickly sick to your stomach.

Within seconds of hearing you cry out, Bucky was at your side. "Alright, come on, darl'. Knew we should've gone straight to the doc when we got 'ere," he said, the latter statement directed at himself.

Trying to shuffle to the edge of the huge bed was exhausting. Tears began to stream down your face, running over the flushing red skin. You were embarrassed, somehow feeling it through the intense pain.

"Can you stand?"

You could, albeit shaky and holding your arm close to your chest, terrified something would hit it.

Bucky pressed a hand to your lower back and ushered you gently from the suite.

In the elevator, he called to F.R.I.D.A.Y. "Tell me someone's up in med?"

"Dr Cho is in D.C. but has left Medical to Dr Reyes,"

"Okay. Tell her we're on our way," he asked.

"Already done,"

"Thanks, F.R.I.D.A.Y."

Bucky turned to you, watched you struggle to keep your eyes open. He frowned, then cupped your face in his hands. The vibranium was cool.

"You're gonna be okay, Y/N. I know it hurts, but trust me - I've seen worse."

He wasn't being dismissive, just trying to pull you from the pain for a second or two. It worked; you offered him a weak smile. Bucky leaned in and kissed the tip of your nose. You could smell toothpaste. He must have been in the middle of getting ready for the day when you woke up.

'Medical' was a whole floor. Research happened in the east wing, and the trauma centre existed in the west.

Dr Cecilia Reyes was ready, waiting for your arrival. "Barnes," she greeted. "You found her then,"

"Word travels fast, huh?"

"Oh, you know… Winter Soldier on a mission to find a girl. That kinda thing gets people talking," she replied with a smirk.

Bucky liked Cecilia. She was tough, raised in the Bronx. He liked that despite her power, she opted for a relatively normal life. She was good people.

"Well, welcome," she said to you, leading you to a private room. "I'm Dr Reyes. Heard you've banged up your hand pretty bad?"

"Yeah," you managed to squeak out.

"Scale of one to ten, how bad's the pain?"

Ten. Definitely. "Uh… Eight," you lied.

Cecilia snorted. "So at least a nine then? Don't need to be tough for me," she told you, smiling kindly. She nodded for Bucky to help you up onto the bed in the room.

"I was okay last night," you said to her.

"Probably still in a bit of shock. Had a rough couple of days. Body's smart. Guess it waited to tell you it needed help," she replied.

"Should've brought you here last night," Bucky said.

"Nah, Barnes. Sleep is the great healer. She's here now. Let's see what we've got."

An x-ray, backlit and brutal, showed a broken ring finger, broken thumb, and three breaks to your hand. Cecilia told you that all things considered, you were lucky; the breaks hadn't split skin, muscle, or tendon. She set a cast on your wrist, hand, and thumb, and stabilised your ring finger by splinting it to your pinky.

"If you want, we can just cut it off and you can get one of what he's got," she joked during the process.

"Hey! Too soon," Bucky said, feigning offence.

She rolled her eyes at him dramatically. "What, like 80 years or something?"

Bucky laughed, then smiled over at you. "It's all right, darlin'," he said, noticing your expression. "If I can't joke about it, what's it good for, you know?"

"In her case, it's good for some top tier pain meds. Here - take two as needed. No more than eight a day. With food is better. And for reference, a can of Pringles does not count as a meal,"

"That felt personal," Bucky said, eyes narrowing at Cecilia.

"Your diet is trash," she told him, matter of fact.

"Firstly, once you pop you can't stop. Even I know that. Secondly, how do you know about my diet, doll?"

"Doll me again, Barnes, and I'll-"

"What?" he interrupted. "Force field me to death?"

"Joke all ya want, but it can be done."

Bucky laughed again, fondly shaking his head at her. Cecilia held back a full grin.

"Force field?" you asked, sitting quietly, letting the fentanyl you'd been given before the x-ray seep into your body.

"I'll tell ya later," Bucky said, reaching out to fold stray hair behind your ear.

"Alright, need anything else? You're not-" Cecilia started.

"Nah, nah, I'm good. Thanks, Doc. We''ll get out cha' way."

They hugged like they meant it, and she left the room.

Bucky turned to you. "I'd decorate that thing for ya, but Steve's the artist," he said, nodding at your cast.

"S'okay," you whispered in reply.

"Fentanyl working then?"

Eyes closed, grinning, you nodded slowly. Bucky snorted.

"Good. Guess we'll get some food in you then,"

"Pringles?" you asked hopefully as Bucky held your hips, helping you slide off the bed.

"Whatever you want, darlin'."

People pretended not to watch you and Bucky leave the trauma centre. It's kinda what people did in Stark Tower - pretend not to see and know what they saw and knew.

"He's got a girlfriend" someone whispered.

"No, didn’t he, like, go full hero and save her or something?"

"Think we got more to worry about than who and what Bucky Barnes is doing," Cecilia said loudly to the room. She smiled though. Good for him, she thought to herself.

…

Before you really knew what was happening, Bucky was handing you an iPad.

"Sit. Ubereats us something," he said.

You were on the couch, back in Bucky's suite. Looking around, you felt that awe again - floor to ceiling windows with New York views will do that. There was a light, knitted blanket over you. It seemed out of place in the modern apartment setting.

For a good fifteen minutes since returning from the medical suite, you'd just been sitting there. Bucky had waited until you seemed more… coherent, to ask you to pick food.

"You know Ubereats?" you asked, smiling, proud of yourself.

Bucky snorted. "I know I'm old, but I'm not playing-bingo-with-senior-citizens old."

You laughed and for a second, forgot about everything.

"That being said," he added, "I did live through The Depression, and I do have a super soldier metabolism… So, you know, don't skimp on the food."

You wondered what his dinner of choice normally would be. Order history! It looked like Bucky was working his way through every takeout option in N.Y. Nothing repeated.

"Burrrrrrito?" you asked.

"Yeah, darl'. Whatever you want,"

"I waaaaant… freeeesh ava ca doo,"

"That the drugs talking?"

Mental note to self: show Bucky Barnes memes.

After the order was placed, you put the iPad on the coffee table in front of you. Bucky picked it up, shot you a grin, and disappeared for a while. You did consider following him - he felt like safety. But, you were slowly coming out of the fog of fentanyl and knew tagging along like a lost puppy probably would make you feel awkward more than anything.

Bucky's voice floated through… superhero stuff, you assumed. Busying yourself with finding the remote, then being startled by F.R.I.D.A.Y.'s offer of help ("Can I help you find something to watch?"), you managed to fill the time until Bucky returned without having to really think too much. There was a feeling sitting in the back of your mind and the bottom of your stomach that you wanted to keep ignoring for as long as possible. It seemed… bad. And you weren't ready for bad.

"Alright," Bucky said, coming to stand in front of you. "How we doing?"

You smiled, nodded. His expression shifted. Sceptical.

"Yeah? You sure?"

"Ah-huh," you confirmed.

"I'm just gonna run down and grab the food. Won't be a second."

The door clicked shut behind him, leaving you with only the television to keep you company. You tried to pay attention, focus on the show. But the volume was too loud, even on the lowest setting. It was agitating, stressful even. Switching it off, you were enveloped in silence.

Calm down, you told yourself. And yet, a heartbeat was pounding in your ears. Fuck, fuck, fuck. You could hear your own organs now?!

Suddenly, you found yourself at the window, looking down at the city. How can everyone… You were thinking too fast, spiralling. But how could you think of anything else? How could everyone down there just keep going? D.C. was still burning. People had died.

People.

Your people.

Everything - your head, the room, your world - began to spin.

Where's… Where's… Where the hell was a phone?

"Y/N," F.R.I.D.A.Y.'s voice alarmed you, coming out of nowhere, but not enough to make you jump. "I'm detecting an elevated heart rate. Can I help you with anything?"

"I… ah… You're just a machine," you muttered to yourself mostly. "Wait! No! Where's the phone?! I need a phone… I need to call…"

Call who? Who would you call first? What would you do if…

You didn't hear F.R.I.D.A.Y. tell you where to find a phone, or ask again if you were okay. You didn't hear her tell you Bucky was on his way up. As soon as he walked in, he knew what was happening.

"F.R.I.D.A.Y., tell me next time," he said while putting the takeout on the suite's small round dining table. "Y/N," he called. He stood in your field of vision, but not too close. "Y/N? Can you hear me?"

"I'm… I need a phone," you said, voice frantic, pupils blown. "There's people…"

"We can do that. Phone's right here," Bucky told you, pulling his cell from his pocket and holding it out to you. When you didn't take it, he slid it back in and held a hand out to you instead. "Y/N, take my hand. We're gonna sit down. Don't want you to fall and break any more bones,"

"How many days has it been?" you asked, your words pushed together, the letters overlapping.

"I'm gonna come closer, okay? Coming to you." Bucky moved. When he could see it wasn't making it worse, he held on your good wrist, his other hand on your waist, and walked you to the couch. You followed along, mindlessly compliant. "It's been five days. Not everyone will be on the lists yet, but we'll call, yeah? Or, we can get F.R.I.D.A.Y. to do it for us."

You were sort of nodding, but were still finding it hard to focus. Bucky waited another few moments, watching and assessing, before deciding he needed to intervene further.

He put his left hand on your face, cupping the cool metal to your skin. Gently but firmly, he turned you to face him.

"How many fingers am I holding up?" he asked, raising his right hand.

"What?"

He repeated the question.

"Three," you answered, dismissive and maybe even a little annoyed.

"Good. Now?"

"Five. What are you doing?"

"Now?"

"Two! What are you doing?!"

"Distracting you," Bucky said. "Making your mind work on a task that isn't just panicking,"

"I'm not panicking," you told him.

"Not now, 'cause it worked. You're still not breathing properly though,"

"I'm fine,"

"F.R.I.D.A.Y.?" Bucky called.

She spoke, "Your heart rate is still elevated, Y/N, and-"

"Okay, I get it," you stopped her.

"Just take a couple breaths with me. Don't need 'em to be deep. Just hold them for a couple seconds."

As he called it, you took a breath in, two, three, out, two, three. You managed to do it twice before shaking your head and wriggling in your spot.

"I'm not- I just-" and you were off again, rambling about people, phones, and things you needed to do.

You went to stand, but Bucky grabbed you around the middle, pulling you down. Your back was to him, pressed to his chest, while his arms were wrapped around you. He would have let go if you fought him or cried out. But, you were limp and quiet almost immediately.

As you clung to his arms, he rested his head on your shoulder and made soft hushing sounds. Bucky waited patiently until your breathing regulated. You had closed your eyes and let your entire weight rest on him.

"I know how you feel. You're exhausted. Makes everything feel… bigger. But I promise you, it's gonna be okay," he told you, voice calm. Calming.

"You can't promise that," you replied, voice weak.

"I reckon if anyone can - it's me. Had a lot of life experience. And, got a lot of resources. Superhero perks," he laughed, trying to lighten your mood. "You trust me?" he asked, to which you nodded. "Good. So, trust me. I've got you. And right now, we've got some burritos that need eatin', and you need to tell me what freesh ava ca doo is."

Hearing the words come out of his mouth was entirely ridiculous and you couldn't help but snort. It left a smile on your face.

"There she is! Come on. Up!”

Chapter 5.

Tag list (open): @animegirlgeeky @bubbabarnes @browngirlmagic @lookalivefrosty @aynaraxas @vibraniumwitch @the–sad–hatter @grecianlune @fairislesheets 

[shirtlesssammy]

8x15: Man's Best Friend with Benefits

Then:

Freaking witches!

Now:

St. Louis, Missouri

In a dark alley, a man and woman leave a seedy hotel. The man pays the woman and leaves. She starts walking when another mysterious figure starts to follow her. He’s a cop! And starts to arrest her by putting her in handcuffs and then..choking her until her head explodes??! They do things differently in Missouri. 

Oh wait! It’s just a dream! The man sits up in bed, letting the dream images float away. His dog comes up on the bed to comfort him. 

The next morning, the man starts to make coffee only to find a bloody shirt in his kitchen trash. 

The brothers arrive at their random motel for the night, arguing about who the best Stooge was. They’ve had to have had this argument a thousand times before, lol. They’re there to meet up with “James”, a cop that needs their help. Dean decides to go for a beer run but is concerned about Sam’s wellbeing since he just killed a hell hound. Sam’s good! 

Once alone in the motel, Sam hears a scratching at the door. He opens it to find a dog --the dog from the cold open. 

The dog just busts in and makes herself at home. Sam is confused but not above giving some belly rubs while he tries to find tags on the dog. She doesn’t have any. Sam hears the familiar rumble of the Impala --which means Dean is back. 

Sam rushes out to warn Dean about the dog. He hopes that she can just stay the night and they’ll try and find her home the next day. Then he opens the door to reveal a woman on his bed. She’s wearing the dog collar. :| :| :| :| :| :| :| :| :|

Sam pulls his knife as they confront her. She tells them that she’s not a shifter--but a familiar. Her name is Portia and she’s their friend James’ familiar. Dean takes a moment to process that this old friend is now a witch. 

She tells the boys that after learning about the supernatural from them, James went on to become a witch. Now there’s something wrong with him. Dean tells her that he’s not a fan of witches (Oh, those were the days.) She tells him to STFU and help. Dean finds that “incredibly hot.” Sam agrees. 

(God, I’m just trying to write coherent sentences for what I’m watching but THIS WHOLE THING IS GROSS.)

At a Continental Hotel for the supernatural, a man meets up with James to discuss what he’s been going through. He’s a mess because of his dreams. His friend tells him to take a break. James admits that Portia left him. 

Portia, meanwhile, is explaining the whole witch/familiar lifestyle to Sam and Dean. (Like, I forget HOW MUCH exposition exists in Buckleming episodes.) Anyway, they used to be able to communicate telepathically, but he blocked her. Portia admits that she contacted the Winchesters --not James. 

<Insert James having another dream>

The next day, Sam and Dean head to James’ house to learn more about what he’s going through. 

James tells them about the dreams and that he’s concerned they’re not just dreams. He wakes up in his bed after the dreams, but the people are all dead. He shows them the bloody shirt.

Dean tells him that they’ll help but he’s going to have to get chained up. 

Dean gathers ingredients for a witch killing spell. He voices his concern about not knowing what they’re in for. Sam calls him out for being concerned about the trials. 

Okay, we’ve been revisiting this episode for a bit now so here’s a palate cleanser:

The brothers are at odds about these trials. But they sure do look pretty fighting over them. 

Dean tells Sam that if they have to gank James, then so be it.

FBI Sam heads to the police department to have them run a blood test on a piece of the shirt. He also learns there was a witness but the cops refuse to tell him more.

Dean and Portia head into a swanky little underground bar. WHICH bar, you ask? It’s a WITCH bar. She takes him to meet Phillippe. We learn that Dean sneezes over only one thing: cats. (So, we know God makes sure they don’t get colds, etc. now, why does Chuck make Dean allergic to cats?). Dean inquires of the witches in the establishment whether there’s a spell where a witch can control another witch. Spencer, a witch, looks shifty. The other patron morphs into a cat and leaves dramatically, as one does. 

Portia locks James up in bed for the night and they hold each other close. They’re in love! They make love! I experience severe discomfort about this situation, which manages to be both extremely vanilla and SO WRONG at the same time. Sooooo many levels of wrong. While they’re having sex, Portia flashes several visions about James’ attacks. Later, when Sam and Dean arrive to BURN THE WITCH she stops them. 

Okay, I gotta harp on this. WHY does Portia wear a collar as a human? When she transforms into a dog, it’s not like there’s suddenly a clothes-wearing dog walking around. It instead serves as a constant reminder of her servitude and that’s just GROSS, my friends. 

ANYWAY, Portia suggests to the Winchesters that James’ visions indicate that the dark memories may not actually be his. The Winchesters agree to check it out. 

Sam chats with the local police, who declares the case pretty much closed. However, they’re being shifty with James’ files, so some plans are afoot. Also let’s all cringe at the cop’s description of the precinct: “This place is run like a dogsled - no stars. Just grunts. One mutt goes lame, another one pops up and slogs through the slush.” File that under: worst boss. 

Dean and Portia head to a creepy old warehouse, which is always a smart place to be. Dean’s super curious about whether Portia is more woman than dog. By “curious” I mean creepily interested in their sex life and pressing for details he shouldn’t pursue. 

A witch meets them and tells them that the coven is onto James’ creepy dreams and possible murders, and they may force him to kill himself so he doesn’t reveal the witch community. Dun dun DUN. 

Dean finds a spell from Bobby’s stash of stuff that would make it possible for another witch to plant false memories. With that in mind, they check in with James. The evidence they need is locked away in the precinct, so they all decide to astral project together. 

As one does.

They astral project into the precinct and find their way into the mysterious room C-110. There’s evidence and pictures of crime scene photos everywhere. The cops are hardcore tracking James, and things are looking bad. They find a witness statement from - I AM NOT MAKING THIS UP - Phillip LeChat. LeChat. LE CHAT. For fuck’s sake. 

James is shocked that Ed is building a case against him. Um. No shit, Sherlock. James power chucks Sam and Dean against the wall, knocking them out. Portia pleads for James to work with her, but James pushes her away. Yeah, he’s a keeper, Portia.

At the bar, James fights the cat. Phillipe pleads for James to have mercy on him and tells him that his master forced him to frame James. Ah, yes. The familiar / witch bond isn’t at ALL toxic or creepy. Before James’ eyes, Phillipe’s neck gets snapped by Spencer. Time for a witch showdown. 

Spencer tells James that he targeted him because he wanted Portia for himself. When their relationship turned sexual, it drove Spencer over the edge and made him seek James’ ruin. Excuse me while I lick my finger and file all of this under the following: CREEPY GROSS WRONG OFFENSIVE YUCK. 

Sam and Dean arrive just in time to be chucked against the wall again. Bbys. A witch battle ensues with hand lightning and floating and visions of all the terrible things Dean and Sam have endured over the years. Portia runs in, in dog form, and goes for the throat rather than just biting Spencer right in the balls. Strategically sound, if somehow much less satisfying. Sam and Dean take the distraction to set off their witch destroying spell and kill Spencer. 

James flees town with Portia (who is STILL wearing her collar over a turtleneck - COME ON). Later in the car, Dean reflects on the fleeting vision he had of their mother to think about their lives. It makes him realize that he trusts Sam - his family - and he’ll back Sam’s fight to close Hell. Cool! Nothing bad can happen! “I’m good,” Sam says as he coughs blood into his hand. SAM, hon, NO.

Sometimes I’m a Quote, Sometimes I’m an Iguana:

Curly was a freaking genius!

Is anything we ever do a sure thing?

He's got the booga-booga on his side.

I like dogs

Want to read more? Check out our Recap Archive! 

[qwertythepopstarian08]

Overshadowed (Part One)

Overshadowed- An OK KO Fanfiction

Description: TKO’s only been around for a year and he’s already starting to slip.

Warnings: Angst, slight horror, Canon-Typical Violence, some kids questioning reality, melting stuff (but nothing too bad), it gets a bit spooky later on...

This fic is an extremely late drabble meant for TKO’s birthday, but I guess it’ll do for SPoOkY Month!

This is also part of an AU called Melting into Shadows (of just Melt AU). You’ll find out why soon enough...

It’s been a year. One year since he first woke up as himself.

Actually, it’s been a year and a month, but TKO couldn’t care less about the details. All he knows is that he’s ‘happy’ now, if happy can even be applied to him.

Right now, he’s standing in the rain, not caring about the possibility of getting sick, the still-surreal sensation of the outside world helping to calm his nerves.

KO’s been letting him out on his own more often, trusting him ever so slightly more each day ever since the PKO incident in which they ‘fused’.

It’s nice, but ever since that day, he’s been feeling odd, if only in subtle ways. His head’s been buzzing with more than electricity, and his mind swims, wading through rivers of almost tangible anxiety.

The chilled rain does little to ease his mind on its own, but the idea of real sickness somehow excites him. He shudders from a brisk breeze, thinking of the sensory overload a cold would bring, something to break him out of his recent numbness.

But before the slightest sniffle can arrive, the front door slams open, the worried tone of his mother shocking him from his thoughts.

“TKO?”

He turns quickly, eyes locking onto her with an oddly intent focus. Contrary to the intensity of the glare, his mind continues to reel, only being dragged back to reality as Carol walks closer.

“What are you doing in the rain?” She reaches for him as he speaks, the look in her eyes promising warmth and blankets and cookies, but the alter ego doesn’t want warmth, yanking his hand back with a fluid movement.

The spikes along his wrist catch on Carol’s arm, and she lets out a small yelp of shock, drawing back. The concern in her eyes has shifted to fear, and TKO’s eyes widen with regret, his eyes filling with recognition.

“M-Mom?” he stammers. He backs away a pace as Carol glances back to him, a small, yet noticeable frown forming on her features. “I-I...”

He doesn’t finish the sentence, turning on his heel and breaking into a run through the downpour.

The freezing rain is anything but soothing as he runs, further and further from home. KO is demanding control back at this point, something usually out of character for him, but he ignores the voice, not wanting to face his own mother again.

“It was an accident!” his original protests.

TKO says nothing in reply, only grimacing as another tug for control yanks at him. His eyes flare violet as he turns a corner, rushing past the Plaza like a bullet, nearly slipping on the wet ground.

He’s used to running on concrete, but the lack of concentration is weighing on him, his frustration building. Stray sparks buzz at his wrists, and he breathes heavily, his stamina dwindling.

Leaping over the ditch separating the Bodega from the backwoods area, he skids to a muddy stop a few feet away from the koi pond, his breaths labored.

It’s late, and he’s exhausted, but he doesn’t care, pulling his soaked, messy hair back into a poorly done ponytail using one of KO’s spare headbands.

He’s starting to feel sick, not to mention hungry, a small growl escaping him as he walks towards the pond, sitting down. He can’t stand it, but he can’t bear to go back.

“We could be in bed and safe now, if you hadn’t overreacted,” KO unhelpfully supplies.

TKO snarls in response, running a hand through his hair. “I’m your dark alter ego; newsflash, it’s my job to overreact.”

The voice in his head is quiet for a moment, before sighing, a wave of sympathy accompanying the words. “That doesn’t mean it’s right.”

The alter ego fails to respond, distracting himself by glancing to the water. The twin fish swim around happily, seemingly unharmed by the storm, which was flooding the tiny pool. Letting out a quiet, shaky sigh, TKO dips a hand into the water, watching as the fish swim around it quickly, brushing their tails against his fingers a few times as if offering reassurance.

One fish moves on shortly, yet the darker koi lingers for a few moments, its small eyes almost saddened as it stares up at TKO. It swishes its tail against his wrist once more, narrowly avoiding the spikes, before swimming away to catch up with its friend.

Within their mind, KO sighs, “It’s really getting late, TKO…Mommy’s probably really worried!” before falling completely silent, leaving TKO alone.

He smiles, if only slightly, looking back in the direction of the Plaza. There’s no doubt Carol’s looking for him by now, and he’s feeling a bit better, now that he’s had time to clear his head.

“Alright, KO,” he sighs, a reluctant grin stretching across his face. “You win.”

Strangely, there’s no response, but TKO chalks that up to retribution for his attitude earlier, shrugging. The buzzing has returned to make up for the silence, and he supposes he appreciates the static, which replaces the dull sound of raindrops.

He moves to stand, only to stumble, his legs giving out. Perplexed, he looks back, a twinge of anxiety welling up in his mind. The cold stopped bothering him ages ago, yet all he can feel now is a strange numbness.

“Wha-?” He cuts off, eyes widening, as his form seems to visibly glitch, as if KO was forcibly taking back control, only without the onslaught of positive thoughts. The only thoughts he can form are fearful notions, each more incredulous than the last.

The glitching, which starts abruptly as his knees, cuts off at his feet, where he just seems to blur together, the sheets of rain coming down only doing more to compromise his view.

“KO... is this normal?” He’s only been a conscious being for a year, and he’s slipping. “KO?!”

There’s no response, and the alternate forces himself to stand again, eyes filling with what seems like tears. Static crawls up his limbs, numbness following it only to be replaced with an inky, blurred substance.

TKO jolts in terror as he realizes what the blur is. He screams, leaning against a tree to steady himself as his thoughts devolve into terror-filled yells. “N-No! I don’t want to...” He cuts off with a series of heavy, labored coughs, entire frame shaking with each one. The shadows which once made him up entirely spread up to his neck, the rest of his body obscured as his legs give out entirely, barely feeling as he tumbles to the grass.

What was happening?!

All at once, KO’s thoughts course through his mind, and he lets out a choked scream, overwhelmed. Feelings of terror and vulnerability overlap with his own, multiplying and enveloping his consciousness. Despite the lack of coherency in the words, he can hear his original hollering one terror-filled sentence.

“TKO, you’re melting!”

Much to the alter ego’s horror, when he looks down at himself, he can see his body glitching and stuttering, inky shards flickering away as blurry energy burned at him.

He can barely even feel the rain as the static spreads, a labored breath shaking his deteriorating frame as he holds out a hand, staring dumbfoundedly as what seems to be his own essence visibly drips away, evaporating before it can even hit the ground.

“TKO!!!”

The mental connection snaps like a twig, and KO’s voice cuts off.

Ink-colored tears drip down the alter ego’s face, and he gives one last shaky, fearful intake of breath before the static overtakes him, fizzling with violet and evaporating, leaving KO’s unconscious form behind.

The smoke lingers, pulsing like a static charge.

It collects in the air above the child, humming and droning, purple electricity buzzing around it. It hovers there for a moment, as if collecting itself, tendrils of smoke and electrostatic separating and joining again, only to descend as a whole, floating towards KO.

The smoky energy buzzes and flickers, never straying too far from KO’s prone body, yet never coming closer than within an inch away from him.

It speaks, “KO…?” Confusion lilts in its tone, which glitches and hitches like the rest of it.

The child before it fails to respond, and the energy bristles like an angered cat, particles of charged static orbiting its amorphous shape.

Almost as if disturbed by the display, KO stirs, if only slightly, his eyes fluttering open. He stares blankly forward for a moment, eyes blinking slowly, before recollection of the past hour seems to kick in, causing him to jump up in alarm.

Much to the young hero’s displeasure, his weakness catches up with him, and his legs give out, a shudder ripping through his frame.

Letting out a cacophony of hissed murmurs, the shady smoke curls around him, buzzing and blinking.

As his gaze meets the supposed being, he squeaks in alarm, raising his arms defensively.

“Who are you?!” His voice holds all the fear of a startled child, and the shadowy energy seems to wilt, something similar to recollection sparking in it. “Are you the one that hurt TKO?!”

The energy being’s entire frame jerks, and it suddenly curls in on itself, gaining distance between the child and itself.

“N-n-NOooOOo!”

KO’s expression softens, and he leans slightly closer, sitting on his knees.

“Well, maybe you can help me find him!” Suddenly cheerful, he reaches forward as if to shake the shade’s ‘hand’, only to slip through the smoke as if it were water. It murmurs something, its mind swimming, and he removes his hand, bashful. “Oh, sorry! This has never happened before, so I guess I’m a little shaken up! Usually TKO lives in my mind!”

Slowly, he stands, starting to walk towards the forest’s entrance, and the shadow moves to follow him, humming thoughtfully. Something about the idea of living in someone’s mind seems familiar to it, and it flickers, confused.

“Where… did you last see him?”

KO turns to look at it, and his smile falls. He glances towards the koi pond, then towards the direction of the Plaza. He clenches a fist.

“You see, TKO was really upset when we came here, but after we stopped, it started getting all hazy, and… now I can’t hear him.” He pauses to look down at his feet, recalling the odd static that had taken his alter ego. “I’m kinda scared.”

The energy buzzes quietly, It swishes around KO’s arm, much like how the koi fish had around TKO’s, then blinks, offering reassurance. KO watches the action absently, but a tiny smile quirks his features as his new companion swirls, smoke spreading around him.

The pair stops at the ditch, and KO sighs, glancing around for a sign of TKO. Instead of hopping over the gap, he slides down the muddy incline, trudging forward. A pang of worry settles in his stomach, and he pauses, feeling tears start to collect in his eyes. Worried, the energy being hums loudly, buzzing around him.

Cupping his hands around his mouth, he shouts, “TKO!”

No answer. He tries again, “TKO!”

His lip quivers, mirroring how he’d shuddered from the cold earlier, and he grips at his hair, somewhat bothered by the lack of turbonic energy backing up the anger. The first few tears slide down his face, and he sinks to the ground, hugging himself.

“T...Turbo….” The rainfall intensifies. The safety of the Bodega is literal feet away, but he can’t move. “Where... are you?”

The shadow buzzes around him, offering little comfort as the child cries himself to sleep…

“There he is!”

KO stirs at the sound of familiar voices, his eyes opening suddenly. At the sound of new people, the static energy hisses, then fades from view, cowering.

“He’s in the alleyway!”

His heart quickens, hope filling him. Maybe everyone else can help him find TKO! Fueled by adrenaline, he jumps to his feet, wiping dried mud from his cheek as he dashes towards the Bodega. The shadowy creature next to him hums quietly, trailing slowly behind him, and he beckons it with a hand, unable to hold his smile.

He turns the corner, skidding to a near stop, before rushing towards a familiar woman.

“Mommy!” All the fear and anger from earlier is gone, evaporated as he leaps into Carol’s waiting arms.

She catches him effortlessly, only cringing slightly from the sudden weight. A warm hug surrounds him momentarily as his mother embraces him, before holding him at arm’s length, examining him for injuries.

“KO! Are you okay?” she questions worriedly. KO winces at the tear marks lining her face, glancing around to see a concerned Rad and Enid as well. “When T ran off, I got so worried…”

“I’m fine, Mommy!” he assures her, although it’s not entirely true, and now that the euphoria has worn off, the anxious dread from earlier has begun to set in again.

He wriggles out of Carol’s grasp, waving his arms for emphasis as he yells, “But TKO’s gone!”

It’s now that the static creature decides to make itself known, flickering in and out of view as it buzzes around the mother and son duo. Carol watches the being uneasily, somewhat shocked by its presence.

“Uh…”

The static being hums, content with orbiting around Carol’s hair. It clearly doesn’t understand her apprehension, murmurs of incoherent words overlapping. It likes her, the familiar aura calming it in despite the sudden crowd.

Enid approaches, quirking an eyebrow. “KO… what is that thing?” From the look in her gaze, KO can tell she’s thinking about the Gloop incident, and he rushes to reassure her of his new friend’s innocence.

The shadow glitches at her angrily, before KO gently collects it, wafting its smoky form towards himself, where it swirls about, restless.

Allowing the smoky being to coil around him, KO pouts. “This is my friend! He’s been helping me look for TKO!”

Rad pipes up, “Um, doesn’t that guy live in your mind?… I mean...?” His gaze flicks between the others and the newcomer, a slight anxiety building in his tone. “Unless that changed somehow.”

“Last I saw of him, he was still sharing a body with KO,” Carol recounts.

An aura of perplexment is beginning to build amongst the group, and KO sighs heavily, shaking his head.

“And that’s why we’ve been looking for him.”

The static around KO lets out what could only be described as a snicker, despite the distortion. It uncurls from around him slightly, raising what seemed to be its head, then grins, showing off a jagged, glowing smile from within the static.

This time, when it speaks, its voice is significantly clearer, a strangely familiar snarky tone dripping from its words.

“And as you can see, we haven’t made much progress.”

Hearing the voice, KO jolts, startling the smoky creature into darting away from him, yowling. It splatters to the ground, hissing indignantly as everyone stares at it, each expression holding varying levels of awe. KO recovers the quickest, his shock melting into extreme joy as he steps forward, arms outstretched as if to scoop the static into a hug.

It recoils, staring up at the small crowd in confused terror, when Rad suddenly speaks, his voice high with astonishment, “TKO..?”

[shortkingactivism]

Thank you @amerileste-cressderqueen for your super cute prompt! This is more Jock! Ryan than Badboy!Ryan but I can’t help but make Ryan cute and jock-y. I hope I did your au justice!

Read on AO3

“Kobe!”

Shane shakes his head to himself, watching as a piece of crumpled paper goes sailing into the trash can in his periphery. There's scattered laughter coming from the back of the class and Shane might be a bit more inclined to ignore it if he wasn’t in the middle of outlining his essay. Creating a coherent argument on the Yalta Agreement’s  impact on Eastern Europe was annoying enough without a live remake of Space Jam happening three rows behind him. Jocks. Could they be more stereotypical?

Usually, Shane doesn’t mind the running commentary from the guys in his class. It’s never malicious and sometimes even gets him to laugh along. But history happens to be one of his favorites and having to pause every five minutes so Jock 1 can yawn loudly while Jocks 2 and 3 snicker like they’ve got prime seats at some comedy club can get kind of grating. Shane comes to class to actually learn something, sue him. He knows he’s a bit of a nerd.

Eventually, Shane somehow manages to tune them out, getting sucked back into researching and typing up his outline. Before he knows it, the bell is ringing and everyone is rushing to pack up their bags, chairs screeching as students hightail it out to their next class. Shane puts away his laptop, slinging his bag over his shoulder and heads towards the door. He has lunch plans with Sara and a couple of his friends and he knows if he’s late all the only-kind-of-shitty cafeteria food will be long gone.

He’s halfway to freedom when his teacher calls for him.

“Shane? Can I talk to you for a second?”

Shane’s heart momentarily stops, wondering nervously if he’d gotten in trouble before he relaxes again. There’s no way he’d ever get in trouble in this class. None of his friends had managed to get the same period history class as him so he rarely talks unless to answer a question and, not to pat his own back or anything, he’s pretty much killing it grade wise.

Shane almost laughs at his paranoia from something as simple as his teacher asking to talk to him but, realizing that would make him seem even weirder than he already is, simply turns to face his teacher.

“Yeah, of course Ms. Millers. Is there something wrong?”

“Oh, of course not. I was just hoping to see if you would be available to tutor one of your peers in your free time. You can say no, obviously, but this student is struggling pretty badly and you are one of my top students.”

“I- I don’t know. I kind of have a lot on my plate right now with college apps and… stuff.”

“Well, tutoring is a great extracurricular to have and I’d even give you extra credit to make up for your lost time. What’d you say?”

Shane hesitates. He’d hate just flat out saying no to his teacher and the extra credit and promise of beefing up his college resume are enticing but he just isn’t sure. Spending all his free time with some kid who probably couldn’t care less about learning history or listening to Shane isn't exactly his idea of a fun time. But still, he can’t help thinking about how good this would make him look to colleges.

“Would it be okay if we just did a trial run? Like, I tutor them for a bit and if it’s not working they get a new tutor. I’m just not sure if I’m cut out for the whole teaching thing.”

His teacher smiles at him and agrees, thanking him profusely before handing him a post-it note letting him know who he would be tutoring and when they could meet.

“You know Ryan Bergara, right? I’ll let him know that you’ve agreed to be his tutor and you can have your official meet after school in the library. From there on, it's up to you. Thank you again, Shane.”

----

Two o’clock finds Shane halfheartedly trudging across the school to the library. He’s already regretting agreeing to this despite not having spent a single second actually tutoring yet.

It’s not that he has anything against Ryan, in fact he hasn’t even ever talked to the guy. Their school’s big enough that they’ve never really crossed paths before and even with Ryan cracking his occasionally funny jokes at the back of the class Shane’s used to ignoring him and being ignored in turn.

He’s just...a little nervous if he was being honest with himself. Shane’s seen the teen classics, is currently living one. He knows, despite how stereotypical it might seem, that jocks like Ryan and nerdy guys like him don’t usually get along. Like cats and dogs, it’s just their nature. So having to spend prolonged amounts of time with fratboy-in-training Ryan Bergara just seems like a disaster waiting to happen.

Or it would be if he ever shows up to their session.

Fifteen minutes have gone by since Shane had arrived at the library. Fifteen minutes since their specified session was supposed to take place. Fifteen more seconds and Shane is about to storm out of there, seething with annoyance over having to take time out of his day for some asshole wh-

“Sorry I’m late! I had to talk to the coach about missing practice and then he was up my ass about how I’d be off the team if I missed too often and then-“ Ryan trails off at Shane’s unimpressed glare, “uh, yeah. Sorry. For being late.” He finishes, giving an awkward laugh and looking embarrassed and out of breath.

“It’s fine,” Shane says, clearly not fine, “just try not to do it again.”

“No, yeah for sure, man. This was just a fluke, won’t happen again,” he pulls out the chair opposite of Shane and plops down. “So, uh, what now? I’ve never had a tutor before so I don’t really know how this is supposed to go.”

Shane shrugs, “Well, I’ve never been a tutor before but I guess... we can outline what you struggle with most, go over some of your past grades, talk about your studying habits, things like that. And then we can start actually studying next time. Sound good?”

“Yeah but just warning you, you’re probably gonna be severely disappointed in some of my answers.”

----

“Never, Ryan? You never study for the class you’re literally failing? What is wrong with you!”

“Not- not never never. I said ‘almost never’. That’s a little better.”

“Ryan…”

“Okay! I know it’s bad but I just figure; what’s the point? I don’t have hours to spare to try to figure out what's going on 500 years ago and why.

And even if I do it still doesn’t make sense to me! There’s like a million things going on at one point in time, dude! It’s confusing! So I thought; why bother. Senioritis and all that.”

“Senioritis is not a valid reason to fail an entire class, man.”

“I know, it’s just,” Ryan sighs sounding defeated, “I don’t even know where to start. This is probably useless, man, I’m never gonna catch up.”

And if that doesn’t break Shane’s heart a little bit.

“Ye of little faith. I’m offended that you’re doubting my abilities. I’m about to My Fair Lady the shit out of your history skills!”

Ryan raises his eyebrow at Shane’s antics but he laughs all the same so Shane considers it a win.

“If you say so.”

“I do say so. So let’s make a game plan! See, like your little basketball thing-y! I’m already helping you understand so much more.”

Ryan laughs again and looks much less despondent. Shane could get used to this.

“Wow, you put a sports reference in just for me? I’m touched.” Ryan replies and Shane has to will his face to keep from heating. Jocks really will flirt with anything in front of them won’t they?

“So! What I want you to do is actually take notes on our assigned readings and what we do in class. From the way you yell ‘Kobe’ every two seconds—” Ryan reddens—“ I can assume you definitely don’t do that and then we can compare class notes to fill in anything you’ve missed.

We can meet twice a week for maybe, an hour or two? And before any big tests or if you have questions, of course. That way we can still have time to do whatever. That okay with you?”

Ryan shrugs. “Yeah, man that’s great. I have practice Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays so it’d actually be pretty perfect if we could meet up tomorrow or Thursday?”

“Tomorrow’s fine,” Shane says as he stands up and begins putting on his bag. “Same time, same place?”

“Uh, yeah but wait,” Ryan grabs Shane’s wrist to keep his from walking away, “Can I have your number?”

“My- my number?” Shane asks a little flustered.

“Yeah, so we can plan to meet up for sessions or I can let you know if I’m ever running late again.”

Ryan shoots him a sheepish smile and Shane feels extremely dumb.

“Oh. Yeah, of course. That makes sense.”

They exchange numbers and Shane manages to feel only mildly horrified. Obviously Ryan wasn’t hitting on him. Why would he be?

By the time they reach the student parking lot an air of awkwardness has seeped into their interactions once more.

“So, uh, you need a ride home?”

“No, it’s alright. My ride’s already on it’s way. Thanks, though.”

“Oh,” Ryan hesitates, then “I can wait with you if you want?”

“Umm. Sure? My brother should only be a couple minutes but thanks.”

Ryan sits down on the lip of the sidewalk and Shane, feeling awkward looming over him even more than usual, follows suit.

“So basketball. That’s uh… neat?” Shane winces and he very much appreciates how Ryan tries to tamp down his laughter.

“Yeah, it’s ‘neat’ I guess.” Then after a few seconds of dead air, “You play?”

Shane knows it’s a perfectly acceptable question but still he can’t find it in himself to not laugh out loud at it.

“What?” Ryan asks, confused, “why are you laughing?”

“Oh my God. Me? Playing any sport, ever? Ryan Bergara I did not know you were this funny.”

Ryan snorts, “Whatever, dude. You should join anyways. The other team would see all twenty feet of you running down the court at them and shit themselves.”

“And this whole time I thought you needed more to get on the team than just being tall. At least, that’s how I figured you got on the team anyways.”

“Fuck you, Sasquatch!” Ryan says without any real heat. They’re both laughing too much to actually be offended by anything.

Unfortunately, they’re soon interrupted by the sound of an engine running and Shane looks up to see his brother’s car pulling up. With a pang of regret he says goodbye to Ryan and climbs in the passenger seat.

He had actually been having a lot of fun with Ryan. He’s even almost looking forward to seeing him again tomorrow.

----

Studying with Ryan turns out to be… quite nice. Different, but nice.

Ryan isn’t actually a dumb jock, nor is he unwilling to listen to Shane. In fact, Ryan readily soaks up whatever information Shane offers him, asking questions about what he doesn’t understand and absolutely nailing what he does. His problem, Shane discovers, is his lack of motivation.

Left to his own devices Ryan would never even think of opening their World Histories textbook. So Shane has to force him to take notes, quizzing him afterwards and making him rewrite key figures, timelines and concepts until Ryan could recite it back to him in his sleep.

But disregarding the whole academic aspect of their arrangement, it’s also just fun to hang out with Ryan. Their senses of humor align perfectly and their sessions have the tendency to run long because they always distract each other with dumb bits and silly jokes. Shane is amazed at how good they worked together and some part of him longs to have met Ryan earlier.

----

Through the course of the school year, however, their academic relationship turns into something more.

Ryan eventually moves his seat from the back of the class to next to Shane’s up front, turning red and flipping his friends off over his shoulder while they jeer and whistle.

Shane shoots him a confused look but he’s happy for the company. Ryan just looks down at his desk and mumbles something about being able to pay better attention from up here. Shane shrugs in acceptance but he does find it rather odd when he sees a flush creep across Ryan’s neck.

Still, it’s fun having Ryan next to him. It gives him someone to bounce ideas off of when they’re given an assignment or made to pair up. They work well together and Ms. Millers is definitely pleased with Ryan’s improvement in class.

Plus, with Ryan right next to him Shane’s become privy to all of his weird and dorky comments. Soon, Shane makes it his mission to make Ryan crack up in the middle of class with weird history facts. This way, Shane figures, he’s still helping Ryan learn history just with the added bonus of seeing Ryan throw his head back in infectious laughter, face bright and warm with joy.

History’s always been his favorite class of the day and with the added addition of Ryan by his side everything seems to have gotten even better.

----

Once Shane realizes his feelings for Ryan aren’t even remotely platonic, however, things go slightly to shit.

If he were feeling dramatic, which Shane always was, he would liken his epiphany to the so-called powder keg of Europe. Replace the nationalistic feelings of the Balkans with his romantic feelings for Ryan and World War I with intense self-depreciation and moping over Ryan not liking him back and it was basically the exact same thing.

God, he was pathetic and even history analogies weren’t making him feel better.

Ever since The Realization (in capital letters because Shane felt everything life altering necessitated capital letters), though, he has been more or less a mess.

Every single interaction with Ryan seems to send him into cardiac arrest, even things that he’d previously enjoyed immensely like huddling close in a library booth to compare notes or Ryan laughing so hard at one of his jokes that he would begin wheezing. Every little thing Ryan does makes Shane’s stomach flutter nervously or causes his hands to clam up.

Shane would wish he didn’t have a crush on someone he was starting to consider as one of his closest friends if it didn’t simultaneously make him giddy as hell.

----

“Shaaaane,” Ryan groans one Thursday, the second after he sits down, “I’m fucking doomed.”

Shane smiles fondly down at Ryan, laughing at how he’s planted his face directly into his backpack on the table.

“Alright, drama queen, I’ll bite. Why are you doomed? Ghosties follow you home? Did the wind

come whisper in your ear and tell you when you’re gonna die?”

Ryan flips him off without picking up his head. Backpack muffling his voice he says, “I’m a dumbass and I forgot that we had a test tomorrow but I also have a big ass game tomorrow that I need to practice for so I’m screwed. Maybe I should ask the Ouija board which I should get ready for.”

“Or, dumbass, you could do both.”

“What? What do you mean?”

“I mean,” Shane snorts before holding up a finger and digging out his phone, “hold on I got the perfect thing for this.” Shane continues to mess around on his phone before smiling smugly and hitting send.

Ryan lifts a brow as he receives a message from Shane before his mouth quirks into a wide smile.

“Oh my God. Did you just send me the ‘Why Not Both’ taco commercial gif? What is this 2008, you dork!” Ryan laughs and Shane finds himself laughing along on reflex, chest feeling tight and warm with how fond Ryan sounds. He’s always glad to distract Ryan from his anxieties.

“So whaddya say? I quiz you while you practice the ol’ game of hoops. Exercising while studying is supposed to help with recall, anyways.”

“Mr. Madej, you, sir, are a genius.”

----

Shane is not a genius. Shane is, in fact, a very dumb, foolish man for thinking he could handle Ryan Bergara in all his sweaty, grunt-y glory. Oh God.

He really isn’t sure what he thought was gonna happen when he offered to let Ryan practice while he quizzed him but it definitely wasn’t this.

‘This’ being a very shirtless, very attractive Ryan only a few feet away from him.

“So,” Shane cleared his throat, trying to keep his attention on his notes and not on Ryan’s half-naked form running suicides across the gym floor, “last topic. The XYZ Affair occurred under which President and involved what countries?”

“Uh. President...Adams? And it was between the US and the French because the French were trying to get us to bribe them or something, right?”

“R-right. And Adams was?”

“Old and white?”

Shane laughs, “Ryan…”

“Sorry, sorry,” Ryan laughs, taking a break, hands braced on his knees to catch his breath and wow that is a view Shane could get used to. “He was a Federalist which meant he liked a strong government and the new constitution.”

“Damn, Bergara, you’re getting good. You might as well be the tutor now.”

“Yeah, right. I’m convinced the reason your noggins’ so big is because of all the freaky history facts you got shoved up there. I doubt there’s anything I could teach you.”

“I could think of a few things.”

Ryan cocks an eyebrow at him looking amused and Shane feels his face heat at having said that out loud.

“I mean— basketball of course! Definitely don’t know anything about that, ha.” Shane finishes lamely and God, Shane would appreciate a good, ol’ biblical plague just about now to come and knock him dead.

“Oh, yeah? You wanna learn about basketball?” Ryan smirks as Shane nods unsure, face still red. “Okay then, big guy, get over here.”

“What, no! Let’s just focus on Federalism! So fun!”

“Nah, I’m good. Now get over here before I drag your gangly ass over here myself.”

Shane whines and Ryan just mimics him, smiling widely when Shane finally gets up and walks over to him.

“See, wasn’t so hard. Let’s start with your free throws. Most children can do those.”

“Haha, you’re so funny, man. Truly, I’m cracking up.”

“Shut it, Shane. Now, bend your elbows a little bit. Straighten your wrist, yeah like that. Now aim for the hoop and shoot. Don’t forget to follow through.”

Shane shoots and misses by a mile. He groans and slaps Ryan’s shoulder when he starts laughing loudly.

“I told you, I don’t do sports, Ryan.”

“No, no it was good for a first try. Here, lemme just,” Ryan presses another ball into his hands and then moves behind him. Before Shane knows what's happening he feels Ryan pressed against the length of his back and he’s being manhandled into position once more. “Alright, there, that’s better. Now I can’t see around your ginormous head so you’ll have to aim pretty well but I’ll guide you through it.”

Ryan’s arms aren’t quite long enough to wrap perfectly around Shane’s but he manages to maneuver his arms into a shooting position before he makes Shane move with him in one fluid motion. Shane can feel Ryan’s muscles moving around his own, warm and cut and wow. This is a lot to take in. He doesn’t even register the ball going through the hoop until Ryan takes his arms off him to clap him on the back excitedly.

“You did it, man! Nice job. You’ll make the NBA’s yet.”

Shane shakes himself out of it. “Oh, definitely. Maybe, I’ll even let you come fangirl when I get signed onto the Lakers.”

“You remembered my favorite team?”

Shane scoffs, “Of course I do. You never stop talking about them, man. Plus, you have an unhealthy amount of Lakers jerseys.”

Ryan stares at him, strangely and Shane briefly panics that he somehow incriminated himself. He breathes a sigh of relief when all Ryan does is smile at him.

“Yeah, you’re right. You should, um, maybe come to my game tomorrow, though. Watch me play,” he pauses, looking at Shane almost shyly, “Y’know, to pick up some pointers. The Lakers deserve the best.”

“Of course, little guy.”

Ryan beams at him.

——

“I am so fucked,” Shane says the second he gets to Sara’s room, planting face first into her bed.

“Hello, to you too, stranger. Been awhile since I’ve seen you without your new man.”

“Sara! That’s the reason I’m fucked—“ Sara grins at him and laughs when Shane chucks a pillow at her “not like that you creep. I mean I have a crush on the captain of the basketball team and my life is over.”

“Jeez, Shane. Since when were you this dramatic?”

“I’m not being dramatic. My life is one giant cliche and it sucks.”

“You’re literally languishing on my bed like some 1920’s starlet. I’d say you’re a little dramatic but seriously. So what if you like Ryan, I honestly thought you guys were already dating.”

“What?” Shane says, choking on his own spit, “Why would you think we were dating? I can’t even tell if Ryan likes me!”

“Shane, we’ve been best friends for years so know that I say this with complete love and sincerity: you’re a dumbass.”

“Hey! I’m wounded. Can’t you just comfort me like a normal best friend. Where’s my ice cream and shitty rom com marathon?”

“Shane, seriously. You guys hang out all the time, even when you’re not studying,” Sara starts, counting off on her fingers, “I once saw him give you such intense heart eyes he almost walked into a locker. He-“

“Heart eyes aren’t a thing, Sara. Plus, why would Ryan even like me. He’s popular, and a jock and cool-“

“Oh my god, stop making this into a John Hughes film. Sorry to offend your little boyfriend but he’s not actually a ‘cool kid’. He's a dork like you.

Shane, you told me he has a ghost hunting kit in his bedroom. You literally told me you guys spend hours playing Sims together and plotting fake murders. You guys are literally perfect for each other.”

“But-“

“No ‘buts’. I need you to get this though your huge dome. You’re dumb and neither of you are cool and that’s why you guys are perfectly adorkable for each other.”

“If I relent will you promise to never say ‘adorkable’ again?”

“Hmm. Nope.”

Shane laughs and he pulls Sara into a hug.

“Thanks, Sara. Love you.”

“Love you, too, ya dillweed. But I can think of one other person you should be telling that to.”

Shane just throws another pillow at her.

----

“So,” Ryan says during the lulls of one of their study sessions. They’re in his room, books pushed to the center of his bed and Shane sprawled across the bottom of it. “You ask anyone to prom yet?”

Shane swallows, his heart a pit in his stomach.

“No, not yet. Been a little busy. Why?”

Ryan looks at him shyly before his gaze darts back to his hands, fingers nervously folding and refolding a piece of paper in front of him.

“No reason, I was just wondering…”

This is it. This is the moment where Ryan’ll ask him, he’s sure of it. Sara’s pep talk ringing in the back of his mind, Shane’s prepared to scream out his affirmation.

“I was wondering if you’d mind coming to the basketball game tomorrow. I’m planning on promposing before the game starts and I have it on good authority that you’ve got a way with cameras.”

Crack. What was that? Oh nothing, just the sound of Shane’s heart breaking, no big.

“Sure, I’d love to. Anything...anything for my best buddy.” Shane says, forcing a calm demeanor, “um, I just remembered my mom wanted me home early so I’ll just see you at the game.”

“Alright. Be sure to get their early and get a seat near the court. Wouldn’t want you to miss it.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it!” Shane laughs, smiling dropping the second his back turned.

----

So.

So Sara was wrong and Ryan liked someone else. So what! He was still going to be a good friend and show up to the game and film Ryan asking out someone else. Of course he was!

Or, he would if he could force himself out of bed.

“Shane?” He heard Sara call his name after another twenty minutes spent moping facedown on his bed. “Shane! What are you doing? You have to be at that game, like, yesterday!”

“Sara, can’t you smell the teen angst? I don’t want to go to the game.”

“Well, Ryan’s waiting on you and he made me come get you so yeah, you are going.”

“Sara, you traitor!”

“Stuff it, Madej. I’m doing this for you. Now get up and shower. I’m going to pick you at a nice outfit and then we’re going.”

“Sara, you’re like zero feet tall you can’t order me ar-“

“Now!”

Shane got up at bolted for the bathroom.

“Just so you know I’m doing this because I want to not because I’m scared of you.”

Sara just hummed, already going through his wardrobe.

----

“This sucks and I’m revoking your best friend card,” Shane mumbles as they take their place at the bottom of the bleachers, as close to the court as possible. The seats behind them were already filling in with students and families and he could see both teams warming up on the court.

Ryan catches his eye and waves at him. Shane can’t help but wave back. Beneath the murmur of people Shane could’ve sworn he hears Sara mutter ‘idiots’ under her breath.

“No you’re not because I’m the best,” Ryan and his team move closer to the bleachers with one person holding an honest-to-God stereo and Ryan holding a big poster. Shane feels his heart clench all over again. Quickly, Sara grabs the camera from his hands and turns it on, “See, I’ll even film Ryan’s promposal for you!”

Shane smiles slightly but moves to take the camera back.

“Thanks, Sara but you don’t have to.”

“Shh! I think he’s gonna do it.” Sara says slapping his hands away.

Shane turns forward, dreading seeing what Ryan had planned for someone else, someone not him.

The team finishes walking toward the edge of the court and Ryan sends him a quick wink before he focuses on turning the stereo on.

Music blasts out of it and laughter spreads through the gym as people register the song being played.

Getcha Head In The Game from High School Musical. Of course.

“Really, Bergara?” Shane mouths at Ryan, unable to help himself. Ryan just shrugs and smiles widely before he flips the poster around. This time Shane physically shake his head in response.

In bold, slightly messy, block letters it reads: I KNOW IT'S A LONG SHOT BUT I HOPE I KOBE THE ONE TO TAKE YOU TO PROM. Complete with a little lopsided drawing of a basketball.

It’s dumb. All of it is so dumb. But Shane is still hurt. He wants it to be him Ryan was making dumb basketball puns for, him Ryan was taking to prom.

He’s so lost in his sad little spiral he almost misses Sara shoving him and sticking the camera in his face.

“Ow, Sara. What-“

His protest dies on his lips as he notices several sets of eyes on him and Ryan shifting from foot to foot in front of him.

“So? Will you go to prom with me?”

Shane stands there shocked. This is a joke, right? There’s no way Ryan actually wants Shane to go with him to prom.

But Ryan is standing there, smile slipping from his face as Shane continues staring at him in silence.

“I thought- but you said yesterday-“

“I kinda wanted it to be a surprise so I fibbed a little. Sorry?”

“You asshole! After we go to prom I’m gonna kill you!”

Ryan winces before he looks up at Shane smiling.

“After? So, that's a yes?”

“Of, course it’s a yes!”

Ryan whoops loudly and drops his poster to try to lift Shane in a hug. Shane just laughs at his failed attempt so hard it feels like he might cry.

----

Prom is nothing like the ones in all those teen rom coms Shane’s life is starting to resemble and it’s all the better for it.

Ryan and Shane are in the outer edges of the dance floor, breaking out absolutely horrible dance moves to whatever Top 40 pop song the DJ is playing. They’re out of breath and laughing and Shane would want it no other way.

Suddenly, though, the song turns softer, slower and people begin breaking off into couples. Shane stands awkwardly to the side before Ryan grabs his hand and pulls him to his chest.

Shane’s nervous and the soft swaying that they’re doing is making his heart pound faster than when they were jumping around offbeat. Shane’s hands are shaking and he isn’t sure if he’s imagining it but he thinks Ryan’s are too where they’re placed around his hips.

“So, uh,” Shane starts, nervously licking his lips, “you think there are any fuckboy ghosts out here, bumping and grinding without anyone noticing?”

“‘Bumping and grinding’,” Ryan repeats, wheezing, “is this 2002, grandpa? What are you even talking about.”

Shane shrugs and he feels Ryan shift with the movement, “I dunno, man. I may or may not be nervous rambling.”

“Yeah? I thought you weren’t scared of anything, though.”

“No, I’m scared of spiders and being forced to do heroin. You know that.”

“Yeah, of course I do, big guy.” Ryan says in a soft voice and Shane feels like that means more than it sounds like.

But then the song is ending and Shane desperately doesn’t want it to end, doesn't want any of it to end so he heaves in a deep breath and takes a leap of faith

“Hey, what would you do if I were to… hypothetically...say I wanted to kiss you?”

Ryan laughs softly and picks his head up off of Shane's chest where Shane is certain he would have been able to hear his heart beating a mile per minute. Ryan looks Shane in his eyes.

“Hypothetically I would kick your ass for taking so long.”

Shane isn’t sure what he expected Ryan to say. He knows that's how he hoped Ryan would respond but still, he’s shocked and he’s sure it shows because Ryan laughs softly and kisses him even softer, a little hesitant and unsure but so so sweet and Shane thinks he can live in this moment forever. They part out of breath and flushed, swaying slowly to the tacky crooning of some generic love song. Around them the dance room is filled with just as tacky and generic decorations.

Shane places his chin on top of Ryan's head, kissing his hair and Ryan resumes his position nestled against Shane’s chest once again. He can feel Ryan’s smile pressed soundly against his own heart and as tacky and generic as Shane thinks it sounds Shane can feel himself falling a lot of bit in love, swaying underneath the flashing lights of his high school prom. He truly doesn’t care. To him this moment feels like it could go down in the history books.

[spartalabouche]

(all for both skylar and kitty, or whichever you prefer to answer it for) 1-3, 5-12, 14-19, 21-26,28-38,40,42-50

OK i did ALL OF IT

1.What is your OC’s favorite color?

kitty likes red skylar likes purple

2.Does your OC collect anything? What do they collect?

kitty collects rocks! skylar collects Literally Anything given to him hes a bit of a hoarder but only when it comes to gifts. he cant bring himself to get rid of anything given to him

3.What kind of things is your OC allergic to?

kitty is mildly allergic to oranges. skylar isnt allergic to anything

5 already answered

6.What’s your OC’s favorite animal? Least favorite?

skylar loves any and all cats (including kitty(;3)) but tigers are his favourite. kitty likes bears

7.What element would your OC be?

skylar would be. water i think? i think kitty would be earth? but idk.

8.What is your OC’s theme song? 

idk lmao i dont do theme songs 

9.Do you have a faceclaim / voiceclaim for your OC?

been meaning to find some but i havent yet. i should get on that

10.What deadly sin would best represent your OC?

skylar i think would be envy. kitty maybe..wrath? i dont think that fits too much but its the best out of the seven.

11.What are your OC’s hobbies?

skylar likes to sew, kitty likes to cook

12.How patient is your OC? How hot-headed are they?

skylar is very patient. but maybe a little past patient to being just kind of a pushover. but he is very patient. kitty is a little less patient but i wouldnt say shes hot headed? shes a little irritable the days around the full moon but other than that shes pretty ok

15. If your OC could have any pet, what would they choose? Why?

kitty would like a lizard! she just thinks theyre cool. skylar wants a cat. 

16.What does your OC smell like? 

skylar smells like... warm. like warmth has a smell and thats what he smells like. kitty smells like fruit shampoo

17.How do they make a living? What kind of job do they want / not want? What is their dream job? What do they think of their current job?

theyre both highschoolers n dont have jobs but skylar wants to be a nurse. kitty isnt sure what she wants to do n thinking about it scares her a lil

18.What are your OC’s greatest fears? Weaknesses? Strengths?

skylar is terrified of being alone, its the reason he was in his situation before he met kitty in the first place. he will do anything for you if he thinks you will leave him if he doesnt obey.

kitty is terrified of hurting the people close to her, mostly after when she attacked skylar bc of the blood moon bs. after a few more moons they figured out what the deal was but shes still afraid that something could happen and she could attack someone again without warning. before that.. im not sure? i havent thought much about that

19.What kind of music do they listen to? Do they have a favorite song?

skylar likes sufjan stevens n things similar, kitty likes the ready set n things similar

21 already answered

22.What kind of student were they/would they be in high school?

when hes with the right people skylar is a vry good student but before he met kitty he was in the principals office a lot and his grades dropped bc he was so exhausted emotionally from being w the ppl he was friends with and it took a toll on his mental health and his ability to focus and slash or care about school.

kitty is a good student in the classes that can keep her attention (usually science and history) but she has a real tough time if shes not Really Interested in whatever shes supposed to be learning, it just doesnt stick with her well. attitude wise tho shes a good student. she doesnt get into trouble unless the trouble finds her first and then shes too stubborn to back down lol

23.What is a random fact about your OC? 

...........i cant think of a random fact that isnt already mentioned lmao

24.What is their outlook on life? What is their philosophy / what do they think in general about living?

skylar is pretty depressed and negative about His life but very positive abt others? if that makes sense? he thinks everyone has a reason to live and deserves to live. kitty is p much the same but shes not depressed rlly. shes pretty positive all around. 

25.What inspired you to create them / how did you create them? Were they originally a fancharacter? What was their personality / design like when you first made them?

WELL. a looong while back i wrote a vent fic about dave like getting the shit beat out oif him or whatever. and skylar was one of the bg characters. he was very remorseful but didnt do anything to help dave or apologize and was just like.. in the bg for no reason? but then i was like i kinda....wanna do more with this guy. so i kinda like made an alternate ending to what i had where skylar helped dave after instead of leavin him where he was. and then i got attached lmfao.

kitty was made specifically for skylar! for a long while i thought skylar would always be like. a stand alone character it just felt rlly weird giving him a second Permenant character that wasnt terrible for him and then one day i was like WELL.....what if.......this Girl and then kitty was created

26.Who is the most important person in their life? Why? Who is the least important to them (that still has an impact and why?

skylar and kitty are each others Most Important Person. kitty brought skylar out of a dark place and skylar is kittys rock when she gets overwhelmed or breaks down. theyre good for each other. best friends.

there is not a single person however that is not important to skylar he cares abt everyones opinions all the time. kitty tho.. theres someone but im not sure?? who exactly? havent gotten into that or anything.

28 answered

29.If they could choose their epitaph for their grave, what would they choose?

man idk. skylar is too scared of death to think about it and kitty just doesnt thing much abt it

30.Do they want to get married? Why or why not? Would they ever want kids? Do they have kids? Why?

kitty would like to get married, shes indifferent about kids. skylar would like to get married and have at least one child !

31.What is their most traumatic memory/experience? What is their favorite memory?

most traumatic.. for skylar probably . being kind of forced to hurt people?? not necessarily forced by other ppl but forced by himself ofc. but it was still traumatic. 

kitty... im not sure. she hasnt really had any traumatic experiences so aside from attacking skylar which she could only remember bits and pieces of anyway idk !

33.Would they ever kill someone? What would someone have to do to push them to kill someone? If they would kill someone, why? 

kitty could kill someone accidentally during a blood moon or if she was pushed too far in a non blood moon Wolf time she could probably kill someone but she definitely wouldnt mean to if she was coherent. shes a little more irritable during wolf times (i think i already mentioned that in this or the other one but) and if she gets too angry the wolf in her comes out a little more and she gets violent. shell only mean to maim but miiight go a little too far. hasnt happened yet though and she is determined to be sure it never happens.

skylar however. after like a year of hurting people hes sort of. learnt to dissociate in the process of it to cope. so if he was also pushed far enough, but like, thatd take more than wolfy kitty. like to the point of his family (including kitty) being seriously hurt or threatened seriously he could sorta. snap and have at it. and he could accidentally kill them. really unlikely though.

34.What social groups and activities does your character attend? What role do they like to play? What role do they actually play, usually?

skylar tends to avoid social groups for long periods of time and if he is w a social group hes pretty quiet and will mostly just talk to kitty between her conversations with other people. uhh id go a little more in depth about how kitty interacts with people but i.. do not go to social groups and interact enough to see how an extrovert.. would interact with other people. at least i dont kno enough abt how theyd interact to be decisive abt it. sorry lol

35.How is your character’s imagination? Daydreaming a lot? Worried most of the time? Living in memories?

skylar is def worried most of the time. he overthinks things especially when asked to do something, like hell overthink whether or not he did whatever thing correctly and overthink every little detail he worries a lot.

kitty likes to day dream! she likes to talk to skylar about her daydreams a lot n shell be able to go on for like an hour about whatever shes thinking about and skylar just likes to listen to her and she doesnt need him to participate a super lot just like. Listening makes her happy. shes got a lotta thoughts all the time

36.What does your character want most? What do they need really badly, compulsively? What are they willing to do, to sacrifice, to obtain?

skylar wants Approval and praise. not like in a selfish way like i did this thing for u so i Deserve your praise and affection for it or whatever but just. its a dpd thing. he Needs it

kitty is... difficult. i really dont have her wants slash needs as fleshed out as skylars which is bad of me :\ i need to get on that.

37.What’s something that your character does, that other people don’t normally do?

well kitty stims she likes to flap her hands and stuff but i think thats still pretty common. idk if skylar really does anything that other people dont do?? shrugs

38.What would your character do with a million dollars?

skylar would probably save it lol. kitty would impulse buy a shit ton of things at once until skylar was like wAIAt WHAT ARE U DOING and make her Calm Down

40 already answered

42.Does your character have any scars? Where did they get them from? 

skylar has scars on his cheeks, back of his arms, his shoulderish area and on his chest from kitty attacking him.

43.What was the most offensive thing your character had ever said?

skylars probably accidentally said a bunch of offensive shit being a Straight Cis White Boy but idk specifics man. kitty always corrects him tho and he does better hes tryin

44 answered

45.If your character was given a slice of pineapple pizza and they HAD to eat it (or something bad would happen), how would they react? Do they even LIKE pineapple pizza?

skylar probably doesnt mind pineapple pizza? its not his favourite but hed be fine with it but kitty thinks pineapple pizza is the most Disgustng thing on earth. she would rather Die. 

46.Your character is given a voodoo doll of themself. What do they do with it? Do they see if it actually works?

kitty would probably curiously mess with it a little but skylar would be too paranoid to touch it lol

47.Can your character draw? What do they like to draw? Do they doodle?

kitty likes to draw furries because she is an Actual Living Furry but skylar doesnt draw much more than like. ur average bored doodling.

48.What were their parents like? How has that affected how they are as an adult?

well theyre both still teenagers but kittys parents have always been very supportive of her. they kno shes bisexual and she hasnt brought up bein partially nonbinary just because she doesnt want to yet and theres nothing they Need to know about that yet but theyd be supportive of that too. shes got really good parents

skylars dad was not a very good person, not like physically abusive or anything but he was a toxic person and he is no longer in skylars life. his mom however! is a very nice person. shes rlly patient with skylar nd was especially when he was in that rlly bad place and was getting into trouble a lot. she knew there was something going on

49.Does your character like candy? Do they get sugar rushes? What are they like when they get a rush?

skylar likes chocolate and kitty likes.. like all candy. i dont think sugar rushes are.. a real thing??? lmao but itd just be kitty when shes excited. skylar doesnt get sugar rushes

50.If your character was presented with imminent and unavoidable death/fatality, how would they react? Would they try to avoid death anyways? Would they try to make their last days count?

skylar is pretty afraid of death but i dont think hed try to fight it. hed probably isolate himself from anyone that wasnt his mom or kitty

kitty would probably kind of just hide it like not tell anyone if it was possible. shes like. the moderate amount of afraid of death n i think if there were ways she could try to avoid it that would at least Extend her time a little she would definitely do that as much as possible but if she knows there wont be much she can do she wont waste too much time with it. shed just make the time she has count