#i have reuploaded this three times because i keep shifting the color :|

[arctic-reptile]

catgirl fossil. i don't know how this happened.

[where-dreamers-go]

Merlin x Fem!Reader (Soulmate AU) (Text reupload)

(A/N: Yes, I know I already have this up here, but it’s a DeviantArt link and it’s bothering me because it’s an external link. So...can’t take away the link aspect because it won’t let me save it. SOOO...here’s an insert reader from 2017 and my first attempt at a soulmate au.

Warnings: Minor angst?, fluff.

Word Count: 3,773 words)

“I’m telling you, Gaius, I felt something. It has to be magic if I woke up like that,” Merlin stood in front of his room as his older companion prepared breakfast.

“Merlin,” Gaius sighed and turned to the young man, “It could simply be nothing, but.....if you feel so strongly about it we should keep ours eyes open.”

Merlin simply nodded with a minute smile, not informing Gaius that, despite all they’ve been through, he was strangely looking forward to discovering the source of his new curiosity.

The young sorcerer went back into his room to dress for the day and giving the world a hopeful smile as his blue eyes peered down at his golden mark over his heart.

“Someday,” Merlin whispered to himself before pulling on a colored shirt.

* * *

Hide it.

You had to hide it.

The gold, the shape, the details.

A mark that helped bring souls together must be hidden.

Everyone else did since as long as their ancestors could remember. A unique mark appearing on everyone some time after birth, an image that would be perfectly matched to their soul mate. Whether the mark actually resembled something or was a pattern of shapes or swirls. It was said to be a powerful experience to meet one’s other half especially upon realizing who each other truly were.

Regardless of one’s mark, the pair were usually still bound by the laws of whichever kingdom they lived in. A ridiculous notion that you didn’t bother yourself with much. You only pitied those who were unlucky enough to deal with strict kingdoms where it was difficult between soul mates with different statures in life or overall trickier situations.

You were one of those lucky enough to live in Camelot, but even more fortunate to have been granted the opportunity to work in the castle as a servant. It was a drastic change from tending to the farms your family and neighbors grew for many decades.

A newly adjusted life as a castle servant gave you many opportunities during the day to daydream about your possible first encounter with your special someone as you went about your duties.

But how in the world were you suppose to find your soul mate when yours was inconveniently located over your heart?

It wasn’t as if your soul mate was going to display theirs. Well, you certainly hoped not.

You preferred not to tell anyone outside of your family about your golden dragon mark on your chest lest they scrutinize you for having a magical creature as your mark. Some marks weren’t even anything specific as an animal let alone a silhouette of a flying dragon. Your family liked to relish in their hopes of it meaning that your soul mate was a Pendragon, however deep down you knew that wasn’t true. Not just because King Arthur and Queen Guinevere were widely known as soul mates by now, but how the meanings of the marks went much deeper than names or outside appearances. They were symbols of who they were and you were honestly worried for your other half because of living where the majority of kingdoms outlawed magic and if your mark implied as such, you hoped they could take care of themselves enough not to be put to death before you met. If only you knew where to find them because even a peaceful kingdom such as Camelot forbid magic of any sort.

Working in the castle was still a learning experience that involved memorizing directions and scheduled times for cleaning rooms or simply changing sheets on a bed before washing them in a large barrel of water.

Not unlike your current state as you hauled a hefty load of used bedsheets in a basket from more than one bedchamber. This week had brought a number of visitors who sought to greet the new queen of Camelot; although they were a bit late by a few months.

Many of the castle’s servants, like yourself, were scampering around like ants on a daily quest. You had met a few already during your short time there, but remembering their names was more of a challenge than learning where to clean the laundry.

You continued walking with the basket wrapped in your arms as you centered your direction on getting to the lower levels of the castle. Taking a turn, you gingerly made your way down the stairs, being careful to the placement of your feet on each step as your eyes focused on the stone beneath you. The last thing you wanted was to bust a kneecap or make yourself look like a fool if you couldn’t even handle walking down about a dozen steps. More than halfway down the stairs, a patch of skin on your chest prickled and heated into a burn causing you to loose focus on anything else, including the placement of your footing.

“Ah!” You felt the ever fearful sensation of falling ripple through you.

Your body twisted to the left as gravity pulled down on your legs, the basket of dirty sheets leaping from your grasp. Your positioning was quickly leading the fall to surely be on your side in a painful trip instead of toppling headfirst.

(E/C) eyes were trained onto the steps as you closed the distance with hands hardly ready for the impact that was deemed so evident.

It never came.

Well, not from the stairs at least.

A pair of arms were braced under yours before you even registered anyone was near you. Their blue shirt filled your vision as you now felt how your savior was supporting you from even sitting on a single step. Being as your legs were the only part of you touching the cold stone.

“Are you alright?” A strained male voice asked, you figured it was from the position you found yourselves in, but the voice was soothing nonetheless.

“I’m fine,” you answered, not even positive if you were lying or not.

You didn’t fall, which was a plus. Yet your mark was burning into a searing pain with your blood rushing through your veins as rapid as a fleeing rabbit. Too much so for simply almost falling. Your mark had never done that before and you knew that it wasn’t a normal occurrence.

“Thank you,” you said, finally looking up to meet a pair of gleaming ocean blue eyes. A fluttering in your stomach added to the overwhelming feelings that coursed through your body that severely increased in this young man’s presence. One of whom you have never met.

“I’m Merlin,” he smiled as he pulled you to your feet.

The name registered in your mind in a snap, you had heard about him from the other castle servants about how he was the King’s loyal manservant with a name that seemed to stick in your mind.

His hands slid down to your hands before slipping away hesitantly and their comforting warmth they left on you slowly faded.

“I’m (Y/N),” you said, glancing up at him, your hand subconsciously going up to press onto the fabric of your dress that hid your mark underneath. As much as you tried, you couldn’t ease the stinging as it kept your attention.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” Merlin asked bringing his hand up to copy your movements. His blue eyes suddenly bouncing between the two of you.

You didn’t reply, you couldn’t, and every part of you was screaming know if he felt it too. The pulling, the aching itch of your bright mark, and the undeniable need to be closer despite only just meeting him.

Was he your match?

Azure eyes bore into your orbs eagerly waiting yours short reply and full of hidden knowledge. His brown jacket moving shakily upon his now heaving chest.

“It burns,” you whispered, hand pausing its movements.

“Your mark?” His voice came out low, tickling your insides into a shudder.

Again you were silent, but you nodded. Oblivious to the by-passers having to walk around the pair of you at the foot of the stairs.

“A golden dragon,” Merlin whispered so quietly that your ears barely caught his three words.

But those words had your eyes widening to saucers and lips parting for what little breath you had.

Merlin took ahold of your free arm, pulling you away from the stairway before almost tripping over the dirty sheets. Using his brown boots to repeatedly kick the scattered fabric and basket aside to be out of the way of others.

Now beside a wall, the two of you stood in front of one another with the fabric mess at your feet.

Brushing aside his red neckerchief, he adjusted his shirt enough to pull the fabric down to his left to reveal a very golden dragon. A shining silhouette of a flying dragon’s profile was imprinted above his heart, an exact copy of your own soul mate mark.

Neither your eyes nor your mind could fully believe it was real. Yet your heart and soul was singing with rejoice at the discovery.

You raised a trembling finger to Merlin’s mark and tentatively touched it. A jolt went up your arm at the skin contact and he let out an uneven breath. Being mesmerized by the sight of it all would be an understatement, what with your shaking knees. Not only did you find a matching mark--your soul mate was seemingly happy and healthy. You would be more than glad to spend a few hours tracing your fingers along the delicate shapes on his warm skin.

An equally heated hand went up to cover your own with the thumb rubbing gentle strokes on your knuckles.

“May I see yours?” Merlin asked, breaking you out of your trance and focusing on his blushing cheeks.

Only now did you realize how close the two of you were standing from each other. Shoes mer centimeters from touching and Merlin’s breath billowing your hair.

Your eyes flickered over to where people were still milling around. Of all places, you and your soul mate, Merlin, had to meet at one of the most used staircases in the entire castle. That being said, you weren’t too keen on anyone seeing you physically disclose the location of your mark. Even if the neckline of your simple dress made the task rather simple.

“It’s okay,” Merlin softly shifted you to have your back to the stairs and effectively blocking your actions from any prying eyes.

Your fingers worked on their own accord, pulling the (F/C) fabric across your skin the short distance to reveal your still stinging mark.

“We are soul mates,” he whispered, “I knew something was different in Camelot.”

Tilting your head at him, you watched as Merlin’s mouth morph into a triumphant smile. You half expected him to touch your mark as you did with his, but he wrapped you in his surprisingly strong arms instead. A most welcome gesture being as you’ve never felt more relieved and happy in your entire life as you hugged your arms firmly around his waist.

There was a lightness in your chest that could have sent you floating to the ceiling as you nuzzled your cheek into your soul mate’s chest. Safety and joy emitted into you like the warmth from a fire. One of Merlin’s hands combing themselves into your hair while his other held you securely to him by the waist.

“I’m so glad I moved to Camelot,” you mumbled into his shirt as you squeezed your arms tighter around him.

You were sure the grin on your face would become permanent with Merlin resting his chin on the top of your head despite the tears threatening to roll down your cheeks.

“MEEERRRRLIIINNN!”

A spark of fear shot through you at the sound of the booming, annoyed voice. Your other half on the other hand didn’t seem fazed by it in the slightest. If anything his grip on you only grew tighter.

“Merlin! There you are,” King Arthur came from around the corner spotting his manservant. “What are you doing?” He pulled a face as his confusion sank in at the sight of his brunette friend embracing a girl.

“I....,” Merlin gazed down at you, “I found her.”

The look in his eyes as you met his again was overflowing with emotion. Ones that made your heartstrings pull and flex if only as a sign to tell you that he already cared so deeply about you.

Arthur’s eyes snapped wide and he pointed between you and Merlin.

Both you and Merlin looked back to the other young man.

You held in a giggle at the King’s lengthy reaction as Merlin nodded in glee with a new shine to his blue eyes.

“Oh.” Arthur peered around in thought before spying the floor. “Pick up your mess and the both of you can have the rest of today off. I’m sure someone else can take care of the laundry,” he looked straight at Merlin. “But I expect you to be on time tomorrow.”

“Really?” You gasped, fingers digging into the back of Merlin’s jacket. “Thank you, sire.”

“You’re welcome,” King Arthur let a smile slip. “If anything, you need luck having Merlin as your soul mate.”

“Ha. Ha,” Merlin looked as if he was suppressing the need to roll his eyes. “Thank you, Arthur.”

The King nodded at the both of you as he went to walk away, but turned to point at the scattered mess.

“Now, Merlin.”

“Right!” Your soul mate released you and spun out of your grasp.

A surprise giggle escaped your lips as you watched Merlin crouch down and rush to gather the almost forgotten mess. Before you knew it he had everything back in the basket and was standing with it ready to go.

“Shall we?”

It wasn’t difficult for Merlin to keep pace with you as the two of you completed your earlier journey to drop off the laundry. Leaving hand in hand after a hurried explanation to a rather confused woman who was already scrubbing away at some clothes.

You sprinted to keep up with Merlin, following his lead through the halls of the castle. Passing some knights as you went who called out to Merlin in a friendly manner to only have Merlin shout over his shoulder in passing.

“I found my soul mate!” Merlin was practically beaming with his wide grin that you equally matched with a short wave to the men.

Cheers and whistles echoed down the halls from the red-caped knights that added fuel to Merlin’s already quick pace.

Sooner than you thought in your adrenaline-rushed state, Merlin had finally stopped long enough to swing open a wooden door.

“Gaius,” Merlin called out, scanning the room as he lead you inside.

“Yes, Merlin. What is it?” An older man, much older in age than the knights, looked up from a much tattered book and adjusted his glasses. He eyed Merlin with suspicion, making you wonder what trouble the young man beside you had gotten into in the past.

“Gaius,” Merlin took a few breaths, “This is (Y/N). She’s my soul mate. (Y/N), this is Gaius the Court Physician.”

If only you would have noticed the physician’s jaw drop, but Merlin’s voice saying your name as if it was a proclamation of love was an easy distraction. Your hand that held his tightened all the more.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, (Y/N),” Gaius stood from his seat to shake your hand.

“A-and you as well, Gaius,” you briefly shook his aged hand.

“Ah....How did you both meet? Might I ask?” Gaius’ mind was clearly running through a long-winded list of questions and a mixture of emotions at the moment.

It wasn’t everyday that someone you know finds their soul mate.

You and Merlin on the other hand were clearly feeding off of one another’s energies, practically bouncing in place with excitement that only grew.

“When I was heading back to grab Arthur’s armor.....that I forgot, and once I went around the corner to go up the stairs my mark started to burn. But before I could do anything I saw (Y/N) about to fall down the stairs. I mean I didn’t know who she was at the time, but my feet were running after her before I realized what was happening.” Merlin’s fingers easily wound their way between yours. “Then we showed each other our marks just before Arthur showed up and figured out what happened.”

“Not to forget I dropped the laundry basket and made a mess out--.”

“That wasn’t a problem,” Merlin interrupted you and gave your hand a gentle squeeze.

“Let me be very honest with you both,” Gaius started and making you tense, “Soul mates, especially upon first meeting one another can hardly stay away from each other. They are drawn together.”

“Like Arthur and Gwen,” Merlin added in, unfazed by the in progress lecture.

“Yes and you remember how difficult it was for them once they found out. Being together makes soul mates complete and one. So I advise you both to spend your time wisely...and I hope Arthur understands your situation.”

“He gave us both the day off,” Merlin boasted as if he’d never had one, which quite frankly might be the case.

“Today or tomorrow?”

“Just today. You know Arthur can’t function without me,” Merlin glanced down at you with a smirk.

You bumped him lightly with your clasped hands.

“It’s nearly noon, Merlin.”

“I’m sure Arthur has told Gwen and he can survive a few hours without me. Well, hopefully,” Merlin mumbled the last bit, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand.

Gaius only sighed, looking about his home, and grabbed an empty hand basket.

“I’m....going to the market....for....I’ll be back later,” Gaius excused himself and walked past the pair of you before leaving.

“Is he alright?” You asked, glancing at the now closed door.

“....He might be in shock,” Merlin suggested with a shrug. “He’ll be fine though. I promise.” He reassured you, leading past the table and towards a door on the other side of the room with a couple of small steps leading up to it.

“Alright, but....maybe we should have listened more about what he had to say,” you said, “Just in case.”

“We’ll be fine. I won’t let anything bad happen to you for as long as I live,” he opened the door and gestured you inside. “But we won’t have as much time as we would like to speak to one another. So we can talk in here.”

“Is this your room?” You asked, taking a seat on the edge of his bed.

“Yeah,” he glanced around the room a bit.

You could sense his overall giddiness, however there was an amount of anxiety now that the two of you were alone.

“To be honest....I was afraid something would have happened to you before we met,” Merlin shut the door behind him, “because of our mark.”

“Afraid? I was worried you’d be locked up for magic or something. It’s a dragon, Merlin!” You gestured to your own mark.

“Er....About that,” he started fidgeting his feet.

“What?” You furrowed your eyebrows at him.

“I have magic.”

Your eyes widened and you were sure your eyebrows met your hairline.

“And I’m the last Dragonlord,” he added, “Which would probably explain our mark.”

“....Dragonlord?.....B-but I....I don’t have magic....a-and you....you have magic,” you tried desperately to have your mind wrap around this information being that it wasn’t theoretical anymore. “But you’re....”

“Arthur’s manservant.” Merlin sat down beside you, his hand finding its way to yours and intertwining with your fingers.

“Yeah,” you breathed out. “How in the world have you not even been caught?”

“It’s a long story.”

“We some have time,” you scooted closer to him with a sweet smile and rested your joined hands on your lap, his hand nicely nestled between yours. “Mister I-can-hide-my-magic-powers.”

“We do,” Merlin leaned closer and lowered his voice, “And I’m pretty sure Arthur will come looking for me before dinner.”

A short snicker shook you before resting your head against his shoulder and peered up into his deep blue eyes.

“I really hope we have more time than that,” you said, watching as he shifted his attention to his free hand that was closed.

“Well as long as nothing decides to attack Camelot today, we should be as good as you make me feel.”

Your eyebrows rose shortly as you breathed out a soft laugh.

“Did you just use a line on me?”

“Yes.....It was bad wasn’t it?”

“No, it was cute,” you smiled, feeling your cheeks get a tad rosy.

“So are you,” Merlin answered back and placed a small rose in your hair.

“Where did--Oh.”

Merlin moved a few stray hairs away from your face before resting his forehead on top of yours. The pair of you closed your eyes, absorbed in the calm moment that resulted from such a fast-paced turn of events.

“Thank you,” you whispered, still keeping your eyes shut and not entirely wanting to break the silence.

“For the flower?” Merlin asked, his fingers playing with the ends of your hair.

“No, for catching me.”

A soft warmth pecked your nose causing you to open your eyes in time to see Merlin kiss the tip of your nose again.

“I’ll never let you fall.”

You couldn’t help biting your lip because the back of your head was hurting from smiling continuously. Something in you told you that he would be the most positive person in your entire life.

“Merlin?”

“Hmm?”

“Did your mark stop burning too?”

“Yeah. I forgot when though.”

“Good,” you snuggled into his side as he buried his face in the crook of your neck.

You looked forward to your future together even if you didn’t quit know it would involve more magic and adventure than you had ever experienced. Merlin would show you more of his magic and entrust you with knowledge of his destiny. No matter what was to come, you would be more than glad to help him in any way you could, even if that meant making sure he remembered to rest and eat.

~~~

Part Two 💖

[mikeshanlon]

psst share your outer banks coloring secrets

ah, yes, one of the worst shows to color lmaoooo. i'll try to give some tips but im sure as anyone who has tried to color this show knows each scene is diff and has it's own flavor of awful yellow/green/red shading.

some tips on how to go from this to this......

............under the cut! (warning v long and idk if i'm the best at explaining things lmao)

so firstly, i use this psd i made ages ago for everything (alecbaenes was my url many moons ago i just am too lazy to change and reupload). usually i will go into each individual layer of that psd and see how they work with the scene, and will change the opacity or turn off the layer depending on what looks best. generally for obx, i will lower the opacity on the gradient map layer, as well as certain vibrancy/curves/levels layers, ones that make the gif brighter and more vibrant. i will usually bring back some vibrancy and brightness later but when im first getting the base coloring, some layers just heighten the yellow/red and we need to kinda bring that down before we make adjustments to get aspects like skin color more accurate.

so, just with my psd/adjustments made to the psd layers, the gif may looks something like this: (going to use this gif bc i made it more recently so i remember some of the stuff i did better, and is the most accurate to my current process--plus it sucks to color lmao)

ususally still way to red/yellow for my liking, both for the skin tones and to be able to manipulate the colors for a vibrant coloring! so the next step is to get colors as close to how they are normally. warning, you will have to make 345435354 adjustment layers and just keep tweaking and tweaking... and tweaking. sometimes i will have like 20+ adjustment layers at the end of the process. i usually put all my adjustments under my psd--i also always add a vibrance and brightness layer above. sometimes it helps to do final tweaks above the psd if you just cant get anything right bc of course the psd will change how colors normally look.

anyways, usually my base fixes will be some sort of combination of curves, levels, color balance, and selective color. so like, if the gif needs more depth/darkness, or is way too bright, i will bring the curve down or up respectively. levels, and also increasing the black selective color layer will also add depth. i will also use auto curve sometimes! the first image i have below i circled some of the extra tools i may use--auto for auto curves, the top black eyedropper you select the darker points in your gif and it will adjust based on that, the bottom one for the lightest--if i use those i will either use the black one only, or the black and then the white. the other three are examples of how my curve layers may look--i already have S curves in my psd, so when i do extra curve adjustments, it's just one single point, and i don't move it that much. same with levels, i dont make a super dramatic change, when it's under the psd it's enough to just move a bit to make a big difference. sometimes i'll also bring these layers to a lower opacity.

generally my first step is color balance though, especially if the gif seems mostly fine lighting wise. for obx, i usually shift it towards cyan and blue to cancel out the red tones. magenta and green depends, if its more green i may move towards magenta and vice versa, but usually i dont shift it that dramatically and often leave it alone. i will usually move the bottom bar towards blue, to soften the yellow tones. color balance helps shift the overall colors of the gif. notice that it's on mid tones in these pictures:

as you can see, i shift the cyan/red one more dramatically than the yellow/blue, and with magenta and green i usually just move it 1-3 points over. in the last one, i actually shifted towards red above my psd layer, because after all my adjustments i lost some of the red/warmth, so i brought back in red.

with color balance/curves, the gif may looks something like this

less of a completely red/yellow filter over everything! but still not great, their skin is too red, and overall still not the best base to try colorings. so next up is selective color, which can really help you fine tune things, but because of that.... SUUUUPER tedious. i will have 3495874 selective color layers and sometimes like 5 of them will be half canceling each other out just to get something okay. but this is a hobby i've chosen so we must suffer LKRGJRG. generally, my realm revolves around red, yellow, and at times magenta or neutral. if you think back to how we fixed some of the colors with color balance, kind of a similar principle, just with the individual colors. and lots of experimenting. so with color balance i would cancel out reds by making them more cyan--on the red selective color, im also gonna turn up the cyan. for yellow, i'm gonna make it more magenta, to make the yellow tones warmer. i will tweak the other tones too, just kinda experiment to see how changing it affects the gif, and then soon you will kind of intuitively know how to change the values based on whats going on in the gif lighting. magenta selective color helps for red values that are more pink, so make them more red or yellow based on what you need--i don't use this as much, hence i didnt have an example in the crop of psds i opened, but it's helpful sometimes. with neutral selective color, it usually affects the whole gif, so again, only minimal changes--usually i will bring the black levels down if it got to bright, or add just a tinge or yellow or cyan or whatever i need. here's some pics to show examples of what mine looked like for this gif:

there were many more, but i just chose a few. the '1' and '2' i wrote to demonstrate that these layers were sequential, how they balance each other, and how selective color can be a tedious balancing act-- the second example it's like basically the opposite but it balances it out. also, if you have two characters with different skin tones, or the lighting is different for them, etc, you can use layer masks to erase certain adjustments so it only affects one of the subjects. some of these tweaks will be inbetween me transforming the gif to be colorful, and noticing how the colors interact, etc. so between this i was also making it colorful and it's not exactly the finished product at this stage: but this is kind of what the gif would look like after all the adjustments just to get it looking... normalish:

not totally perfect but MUCH better, and also will look a little different when surrounded by the colors i want to turn it into. i have some stuff about how i color in this tag, i can do a lil other tutorial or smth if needed but bc i have limited photo space on the ask and already wrote so much i wont get super into it here. but for shows like obx, it helps to work with a group of colors that will work with the show--yellows/oranges are easier bc of all the yellow already found in the show. pinks can be harder because there is so much yellow in the show, but doable. greens are good because of all the green in the show, and thus blues are good because its easy to go from green to blue with selective color and stuff. thus, purples are good too because its easy to go from blue to purple! stuff like that makes it easier. some work with selective color, hue and saturation, gradients, and voila!

you can see how maybe some of the issues like it being still a little too yellow/greeny toned balances out with the surrounding colors.

also, a big part of it is just practice! i've been giffing for yeaaaaaars and with media that has just the most god awful lighting so i've gotten good at understanding what to do and sometimes i'm just on auto pilot.

hopefully that helped, i know it was long winded and it can be hard to explain/understand photoshop. if y'all want some more in depth explanation about a part of the process i can try, or with other examples!

[hearteyes-for-killmonger]

In My Mind x 02

*Reuploading because I've edited these to flow a little bit better. Thank you for your patience!

We cannot abandon the rabbit hole.

It lives within us.

---

His rich and raspy voice echoes in your ears like the one that has been stuck there for days.

...Had been

Where had he gone and why? How? How is he here physically? It doesn’t make any sense. And somehow you're still physically or mentally tied to him!

Maybe your brain is sending signals to the wrong places. Are you still dreaming somehow? This ordeal doesn’t seem plausible. He’d found you like he said he would which means that he is just as real as you are. Flesh and blood.

“Keep me," you squint, wet hands dripping water to the floor.

“Keep you,” he confirms with no hesitation. “Can you do this with other people?”

It’s not an innocent question and although his expression gives nothing away, you feel a dark motive behind it.

“This has never happened before. I don’t know how it started or why, but I won’t abuse it.”

A brief chuckle escapes him. “I could convince you.”

You hadn’t seen his face before, always seeing what he saw through his eyes, but looking at him today, you were sure he could. If not by sensual tactics then by terrorism and violence. You can feel Glenda and Lia’s ears on your conversation although they face away, fingers moving through client hair… like yours should be.

The water is still running in the shampoo bowl and his eyes are on you. Brushing him off, you finish washing his locs silently with a squeeze and release motion, conditioning for softness and once under the dryer he pulls out his phone, tapping away with both thumbs.

You sit in your chair, stealing glimpses. Anyone looking at him would think of him as a normal guy, maybe a model or a personal trainer. Maybe a young professor or a medical student. It’s true, you really can’t know a person’s story just by looking at them. He doesn’t wear the trauma. He has a quiet arrogance but also the wisdom to conceal it. Then again.. like most complicated people, there are layers. Dignity. Insecurity rooted in loss. Tenacity. Fleeting environments with faster fleeting people. Empathy. The ability to see monstrous souls hidden within human shells.

His phone lowers to his lap and his eyes fall closed. Suddenly everything around you swirls down into calm and quiet as you watch him, graceful and beautiful and still. His black lashes over hooded eyes. The clear brown of his skin reaching down in high definition. His cupid’s bow over thick trapezoid lips. The bountiful coarse hairs that coat his jaw and upper lip. You’re in limbo, balancing hazily between reality and fiction.

He opens his eyes and the shop’s background noise turns up again to full volume as your body jolts itself fully awake. His smug smile tells you that he’s aware of what’s happened. You were dazed and it seems the proximity between you only deepens the psychic connection. He’s now openly testing the parameters of this newfound ability.

You glance at Lia and catch her as she turns away. How you’d explain all of this to her or anyone else you did not know. You couldn’t find the words.

Escaping outside, the air is hot, not comforting or refreshing, just hot!

“Damn this summer heat.”

You breathe in and out repeatedly, staring up at the clear blue sky until your hands stop trembling.

“How am I supposed to help him? This is a lot to process and I'm so confused. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do with all this.. God. Show me what to do.”

You wait for a sign of some sort as a plane flys slowly overhead. All you see are cars driving by on the busy road straight ahead, past the half-empty lot as all manner of people walk in and out of the surrounding businesses. A latinx family with three kids crosses the parking lot to their car. None of that helps you.

Back inside, you pull Erik to start on retwisting his locks. Carefully palmrolling them with gel, you get them all laid and then you braid them all to the back and out of his face, per his request.

“Meet me at my place,” you mutter when you're done.

“Don’t keep me waiting,” he replies and then he’s gone.

It takes one pleading look to Lia for her to agree to braid your next customer. Four large goddess braids.

—

Your apartment is at the end of the hall and Erik’s tall, built frame is posted against the wall directly beside the door. He doesn’t bother with small talk and neither do you. Feeling his eyes, you fumble with your lock. He follows you inside and moves round the room, looking this way and that at this and that. He’s a curious guy. You don’t have many knick knacks, but your place is still colorful and cozy.

“Tell me somethin about you, Nia.” His wandering doesn’t cease.

“What do you want to know?” You follow him into your bedroom. There’s your bed, your window, your dresser and nightstand, a floor length mirror, and a random piece of wall art you bought to tie things together. It’s a good thing your place was clean.

He pulls open your closet, flipping through hangers and closes the door again.

“Where’s all the pictures, photo albums, stuffed animals from your childhood and shit like that? You seem the sentimental type to hang onto to it.”

“My albums and photos are on my phone. I do have a small velvet bear that I call Velvet. He’s at my dad’s house.”

“Where is your dad?”

“Atlanta.”

“With your mom?”

“Stepmom.”

“Where’s your other mom?”

“...We don’t know. She left shortly after I was born.”

“Who do you look like?”

“Uh.. my dad says I look a little like her and I see it a little bit based on the picture I have of her, but mostly I look like him.”

“Do you ever think of your mom?”

“Sometimes.. I used to think of her all the time when I was younger.”

“Are you happy?”

“Am I happy.. like in general?”

“With your life.”

“I guess.. I’m not complaining.”

He drops down on your bed looking to your pillow and then he adjusts himself down on his back getting comfortable.

“You gotta take your shoes off,” you say and when he doesn’t move you tug at his sneakers. Y-3’s. You decide against tossing them and drop them carefully to the floor instead. “Why can’t I hear you anymore?"

His eyes close and everything is silent. You turn away so not to look directly at him this time and it feels.. somewhat like it did when you were in his head. He’s present, but out of view.

“It was a test,” he blurts with lids still shut. “I slept, but I didn’t go into deep sleep or REM. REM is where we get our most vivid dreams so it makes sense that when I stopped deep sleeping, it stopped the dreams and it blocked you.”

“So basically you haven’t really been sleeping?”

Silence.

"You seem to know a lot about this so you should know better than I do how crucial deep sleep is to your brain functioning, self-repair, and immunity system. That's basic knowledge. You need a deep sleep, even if it gives you those dreams and me in your head.”

“You’re not the problem.”

That response is unexpected, but you ignore the flutter you feel from it for more pressing matters.

“You don’t want the dreams period, but it feels like you can’t stop them. How is it when you wake up?”

Silence again.

“Erik?”

He doesn’t stir.. and then he does.

“If you wanna know.. stick around,” he croaks slowly, half gone already. Then you know he’s completely out because that familiar pull is calling you to lay down. You fight it off, standing to buffer the temptation. A large glass of juice is in order.

For the next hour, you monitor him, watching as he falls deeper and deeper.

90 minutes in, the pull on you gets stronger. If you had ice water, you’d splash yourself, but you don’t want to move or miss a thing. His eyelids move rapidly and you know he’s passed a simple deep sleep. He mumbles something, but it sounds like a foreign language.

The journal. It was full of maps and symbols that looked like language and in the dream he was reading it... Whatever he's mumbling.. It must be linked to those symbols. His eyebrows furrow and the once peaceful expression is gone. His arm twitches, the muscles tensing and veins shifting. His hand balls into a tight fist and his leg moves. What kind of nightmare could he be reliving?

He jerks and thrashes and you wonder if you should wake him now, but then he stops. Sweat beads on his skin around his hairline and in a sheen on his face and neck. He looks afraid as he squeezes your blanket. It’s bad. You know it’s bad. You remember hearing that you shouldn’t shake someone awake who’s having a nightmare like this and you hope he wakes up soon. It takes a while, too long, but then he jolts awake bolting upright.

For the next few seconds, he just stares ahead, heaving and you remember how that feels. You fetch him a glass of water and bring it to his lips. You know his throat is tight because of what you’d experienced yourself. He's shaking. He has to get himself to realize where he is and that it was only a dream. A heavy tear rolls down his face followed by another and he squeezes his eyes shut, steeling himself.

Setting the glass on the nightstand, you break the boundary of personal space and hold him, staring over his shoulder to the art above your bed. He doesn’t lift his arms to close the embrace, but he doesn’t push you away either. He doesn't move, so you continue to hold him tightly for as long as he’ll allow.

You start to wonder if he’s cried himself back to sleep, but then his quiet voice rumbles in his chest.

“You gotta figure out.. how to help me..”

Taken aback, you don’t let go or loosen your hug, you listen. You wonder how you’re supposed to help him without a degree in psychology. How could you change his past? You couldn’t.

“And now that you’ve seen me like this...,” he clears his throat, “You know how important your role is..... SO NEVER LEAVE ME ALONE IN THAT AGAIN!”

You know his emotions are high, so you disregard the venom in his voice.

“Okay. If you dream, I’ll intervene. We’ll figure this out together.”

“How did you find me,” he asks with genuine interest but you’re just as curious to know the answer.

“I don’t know. You know this has never happened to me before. I only thought I was supposed to help you because that’s what this lady who prayed for me a couple days ago said."

"What lady? Let’s find her.”

He was right, maybe she had more wisdom or answers to bestow. Afterall, this was nothing short of a miracle. You call Glenda and by her clipped tone, you know someone pissed her off and to keep this brief.

“Glenda, it’s Nia. I need the name and contact of the woman you booked that prayed for me in the shop. You styled her after the blue fingerwaves. Church wristband, pretty, sweet face, professional-looking-”

“I don’t recall anything like that. I had to perm a lady, but she definitely wasn’t that.”

“What? You don’t remember a lady praying for me in the shop?”

Erik’s eyes narrow and Glenda’s tone switches to concerned.

“Nia, are you feeling okay? You’re really not acting like yourself and it’s starting to get a little scary.”

This is crazy, how does she not remember this woman?

“Well do you remember me styling a man today,” you test. She seems to remember Erik, just not the woman.

You hang up.

Other Chapters:

[moregelato]

hi i wrote some short stories lmao (reupload whoops)

Alright so this is like my billionth time reuploading this cause tumblr sucks (for legal reasons that’s a joke please don’t take down my account) but here are some short stories I wrote because I dared myself to.

So I had challenged myself to write three contrasting stories and not only did I finish them within, like, a week, I was also very proud of how they turned out, so here they are.

There are three in total; the first one, Life, is a horror story that has some graphic gore and blood mentions and descriptions, so tw for that. The second one, All That Matters, is a love story between two women who’s names and kinda the story is based off of (but no depressing parts). The third one, Better Circumstances, is a comedic script that does contain some swearing and some implied torture so, again, tw.

Also I may or may not have written these in order to show I can write for a maybe writing job for Mark lmao so @markiplier if you are reading these please enjoy and hire me whoops

The stories will begin below the cut, so please enjoy these!

LIFE

The woman’s hand instinctively tensed up at the sound of footsteps around the corner. Chills climbed up her arm and down her spine at the feeling of the cement floor creating divots in her fingernails. The broken edges met the skin of her palm, digging into the tender flesh. Pieces of glass and stone remained embedded in the skin, the salty sweat dripping into her wounds making her nerves set aflame. The pain would make her muscles stiffen, her jagged fingernails digging deep into her swollen palm, and the cycle would repeat. She could feel her heartbeat pulsing throughout her, struggling to keep her exhausted body awake. She watched in a sick, hysterical kind of fascination as her breath clouded in front of her each time she felt safe enough to relax, and would hitch when her wounds would come in contact with the uneven stone ground. She felt as if she was under water, every movement enough effort to spike her heart rate. Her eyes flicked to her left and she could hear its movement, a wet sliding noise that was so loud she could hardly think. She blinked and the popping noise sounded like a bullet went off next to her ear, the sound nigh deafening. The footsteps approached the wall she was leaning against, and despite her body’s begging, she stopped breathing. Tears built up in her dry eyes when the ragged breathing moved towards her ear, its warmth a burning contrast to the sub temperatures of the room. Her lungs burned and screamed, the need for oxygen consuming her as black slowly clouded her vision, like ink bleeding onto a piece of paper. The thing that had been chasing her looked to its right, its gaze landing dangerously close, when a sound picked up by both creatures caught its attention. It shot up, the cold being welcomed like a blanket, and its footsteps scratched against the cement, slowly drifting further away.

She heaved in a breath, the clouds slowly coming into focus as the growing darkness slowly dissipated. Her less injured hand pressed against the smooth walls, the cold metal biting into her cuts. A silent hiss escaped her lips as the skin both stuck to the metal and slipped from the warm blood flowing from her wounds. She managed to upright herself, layers of her palm ripping off when she tried to detach it. She let herself have some relief, a dry groan of pain at the burning feeling. When she was fully standing, she looked at her throbbing leg, the numbness from her adrenaline rush slowly wearing off. A large chunk was missing from her calf, the muscle burnt and dropping like slabs of meat, the bone exposed with tiny cracks littering it. Veins and nerves were poking out, camouflaged with the strings of her ripped jeans. The streaks of blood that chased after her glowed with each flicker of the overhead lights. Deciding that dying of blood loss would be quicker than hypothermia, the woman haltingly removed her layers and winced as the fabric caught onto the glass in her palms. Her thinnest jacket was placed on the ground as she redressed, each jacket returned another glimmer of hope. A small portion of fabric from each sleeve was torn off and wrapped around her shredded palms, ignoring the debris making a home in her right hand.

The jacket was quickly tied around her wounded calf, but was drenched in her blood after a few seconds. It was the only warmth she had felt in the past three days. Her stomach had stopped growling before the first day ended, after the thing chasing her had nearly ripped it out, and her throat learned to accept the blood from her cracking lips after the second. But the sleep deprivation was slowly getting to her head. She saw large platters of food and water laying on a large dining table that would vanish in her hands the moment she touched them. She saw injured animals littering the ground crying out but would drop through the floor when she ran to them. She saw people in all white watching her throughout the maze who turned a corner and disappeared as if they were never there. Every time she tried to lay down and rest, every time she let her guard down, the Creature Never Seen’s footsteps would pound in her head and send her running, whether it was really there or not.

She no longer cared about escaping. Her only goal was to survive.

She moved her leg forward, pressing her weight on it and testing the pressure she could handle. She hissed out a swear as a debilitating tearing sensation clawed up her leg. She shifted her weight onto her left one and hobbled into a more sturdy standing position. Her newly bandaged hands gave her less traction on the steel walls but more protection from it. As she took a tentative hop forward, her hand slipped and she unconsciously put her right foot forward to keep balance. A scream shoved its way out of her the same time another, familiar voice could be heard yelling out. The sound caused a ringing in her ear and her vision tilted, trying to convince herself it wasn’t true. She let the small tears fall down her face, desperate for any kind of liquid other than the blood she’d been surviving on for the past seventy hours. The scream, that had been cut short into a disgustingly wet gurgling, sounded as if it was just around the corner. Her hand wrapped around the side of the sleek metal and pulled herself around.

Her brother lay at the end of the hall, the lights burning long enough to illuminate the gaping hole in his chest. The flesh and muscle had all been blasted inward, with shrapnel and parts of his shattered ribs sticking into his barely inflating lungs. His heart struggled to keep its host alive, and half of his intestines were laying over his thighs. The two made eye contact and he let out a cough, blood leaking from his mouth and punctured lungs.

The woman staggered to him, her eyes burning from the tears that wouldn’t fall. She swung herself around and sat by his left side, watching the boys head loll to where she sat. He blinked slowly at her, attempting to give his sister a comforting smile. More of the thick liquid climbed from his stuttering heart up his throat as he cracked out, “Mom’s gonna kill me.”

A pained laugh escaped her lips. “I won’t let her.” Her voice, croaky with unuse, was startlingly thick and wet. She pressed her palm to her cheeks, wiping away the tears that weren’t there.

“I… I shouldn’t’ve gone out,” he slurred. “Mom told me… she said it wasn’t safe.” His eyes drooped halfway, what was left of his stomach tensing in an effort to keep him upright.

“Hey hey hey, it isn’t your fault. You were just being a dumb kid.” The boy laughed, but was quickly hushed by his sister. “Shh, don’t laugh.” Her eyes unwillingly looked to her brothers chest, and he watched as a look of horror and anguish washed over her face.

She continued to stare at his wound. “I can’t even… feel it,” he struggled. Her body gave up on its own survival to share her tears with her brother. “Like yousaid… Iwas just bein a dumb...kid.”

“I’m so sorry,” she sobbed, snot and tears running down her face. She wiped at her tears and brokenly smiled at him. “I should’ve been paying attention to you. Mom told me to watch you but I was being so dumb and I just, looked away for one second and you disappeared.” She gasped, hearing the strange clicking of the Creature Never Seen. “Why’d you leave the house, man?” The question went unanswered and she pounded her fist into her forehead. “I should’ve been paying attention, I’m so sorry. It’s all my fault.”

He had startled at his sisters action, his nose running as he silently wept. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, voice broken. “It’s notyour fault. I thoughtI heard somethin an’ I wanted to help y’guys.” His one arm lifted, revealing their dad’s sawed-off twenty gauge shotgun. The boy smiled, revealing bloodstained teeth. “I shot at thething, Bee. Isaw it… it bleeds.” He tossed the shotgun to his other side, somehow managing to catch it in his weak arm and placing it next to him. “Go kill that sonofabitch.”

“Language,” she quipped, picking up the gun. It had two shells left. “Didn’t dad fully load this before he left?” He had the dignity to look a little embarrassed, but the happiness from seeing some color back in his face was ruined by the amount of struggle his heart was in to produce said color. “You always were a terrible shot.” She pushed herself off the ground, ignoring the pins and needles shooting up her leg at its slightest movement. She spared one last glance to her brother, finding strength in the determined look ripping its way through his agonized face.

She staggered away from her brother, refusing to look back in fear of seeing him already dead. There was no way in hell he was surviving his wounds, in fact it was a miracle he was still alive when she got to him, but she needed to give him hope. She needed to get revenge, if not for her, for him. She heard distinct scraping footprints of the Creature Never Seen directly before her. The moment the Creature turned the corner to the hall she stood at, the every-flickering lights went out. The only hint the Creature was still with her were the two burning eyes that seemed to peer into her very soul. She shakily lifted her shotgun and adjusted her stance, finding her entire left leg soaked in warmth but unable to feel any pain. The gun’s wood felt odd against her wrapped hands, the glass pressing deeper into her cuts. She couldn’t care less. She had to avenge her brother, and would gladly die trying.

The Creature moved forward, it’s eyes slowly losing their glow. It pointed its gaze to her leg and it made a twisted noise that sent chills down her spine. A noise sounded from the Creature, one that was all too familiar, one that haunted her every waking moment, and she felt a blast of wind brush past her left hip. It had somehow swung at her from several yards away, changing her perception of the Creature’s size into something beyond any nightmare she’s ever had. She took a fearful step forward and the Creature attacked again, this time it landed on the same spot it had originally taken a chunk from her calf. The shrapnel embedded itself into her bone and the exposed nerves were cut and ripped, causing enough pain to bring her to her knees. She let out an ear splitting scream and aimed her gun, not thinking twice as she pulled the trigger. Still burning in rage, she cocked the gun and aimed it again, emptying both shells into the Creature.

The lights flashed on. The fluorescent white blinded the woman. The gun clattered at her side. A wet gasp sounded from the Creature. Her blinks echoed in her head. Her gaze adjusted to the light. Her heart clenched and shock ate through her stomach. Her brother stood before her, his chest burst open and intestines pouring down to his knees. He looked at his sister in fear. Blood sputtered from his lips and he sank to his knees. She couldn’t move.

“Why’d you leave the house,” she found herself repeating. She turned to where her brother had been laying minutes ago, only to see the air occupying it. Her eyes widened in realization, the back of her eyes burning as she looked back to her brother. “Mom told you it wasn’t safe.” She took a step forward, freezing as her brother’s lungs stopped moving, the clouds that had been rapidly forming stuttering in fear. “I should’ve been paying attention.” Her voice was distant, struggling to force its way past the lump forming. “I’m so sorry. It’s… all my fault.” The light in her brother’s eyes dimmed, and as his head slumped over, she knew he was dead. “Oh god,” she spluttered, tears struggling to make themselves known. She wanted to tell him she thought he was an animal, that she hadn’t slept and was hallucinating, that she had only meant to scare him, but they were all lies. She knew what she was doing, she saw a figure and fired to kill.

She shot up, hands tugging at her hair. She revelled in the sharp pain as she pulled chunks out, some hair removing a layer of scalp. “IS THIS WHAT YOU WANTED?!” She screamed to the ceiling, to someone, anyone. “WHAT MORE DO YOU WANT FROM ME?!” Tears were flowing freely now, needing to know the truth.

“CONFESS.”

The response elicited something within her. She began to sob, all the realization and guilt and pain hitting her at once. “I thought he was a thief.” She heaved forward in time with her sobs, feeling bile climbing up her throat as the sharp metallic smell of her brothers blood wafted through the air. “I shot him, I meant to kill him.” Her body ached and new blood broke free from her makeshift bandages, coating her skin in her sins. “I killed him,” she whispered between sobs. As she rocked back and forth and howl, she began to chant, “I killed him. I killed him, I killed him, I killed him I killed him I killed him I KILLED HIM I KILLED HIM I KILLED HIM-”

“GOOD.”

Her chanting didn’t stop until two men in white appeared though a hidden doorway in the wall. “I thought… I thought you were fake.” They said nothing as they grabbed her under the arm, lifting her as if she weighed nothing. They dragged her through the door and into a blindingly white room, every machine and monitor pristine and perfectly placed. She was placed and strapped tightly into a chair, with one of the men cleaning the blood trail that led into the room. A woman in a white suit approached her, shining a light into her eyes with no remorse before deeming her fit. She stood up and faced the small gaggle of men in business suits, plastering on a charming smile.

“As you can see, this experimental treatment has had a very high success rate. Subject 100 here is our lucky star. She’s proven that this treatment can be used to get those,” the woman in white bent over and tapped the criminal on the cheek, “ extra stubborn criminals to confess. The narcotics we administer cause them to forget the last 48 hours and allow them to survive in harsh conditions with little nutrients for elongated periods of time.”

“Ms. Beathen, wouldn’t this be considered torture? Afterall, this one is missing a chunk out of her leg and no one seems to have treated it. And, as you mentioned, you drugged her nonconsensually.” Ms. Beathen took an understanding breathe and stood up to her full height.

“We were worried about the morals of this whole thing when we first started. But, these are dangerous criminals, you must remember. I don’t believe Subject 52 thinking about morals and consensual drugging landed him with us.” Uncomfortable murmuring spread to the small group. “However, all injuries sustained during their crimes are treated beforehand to ensure it doesn’t get infected. And we find the more details we add, the more emotionally invested they become, the more likely they are to confess.” Audio from the room she had spent what felt like years in began to play, and the woman cringed deeper into the chair to avoid her sobbing admission. “So far, one hundred out of the one hundred federal criminals sent to us have confessed to their crimes and been punished accordingly. Speaking of which, Mr. Adilet, would you do the honors?”

One of the men in white stepped forward with a glimmer in his eyes like a child on Christmas. She thrashed and cried as he spoke, but he never paused his speech. “Bela Tuwile, you have been found guilty of the murder of thirteen-year-old Clay Tuwile, and have been sentenced to life in federal prison.” As the men in suits left, the could hear Bela’s sobs echoing through the halls, but their steps never faltered.

———————————————————————————————————

ALL THAT MATTERS

Judith Capehart was the sun. She brought pain; to look at her would risk yourself going blind, and few could handle the heat. Her eyes, two bright flares, shot and burned at anyone who strayed to close. Her hair was a solar prominence, looping down from her scalp in thick gold waves. Her skin had a permanent red tinge to it, littered with sunspots that burned to the touch. Her temper grew as she aged, from the mild light of a red dwarf to the raging fire of a blue supergiant. People liked her in theory, for she brought life to the world and gave warmth at a distance, but when they learned her truth, when she lashed out and never cooled off, they preferred to stay away. And yet, despite their love of a false version of her, she was always truthful with people.

Rosemary Moncella was the moon. She brought illumination; to look at her would bring clarity the dark, but few accepted the cold. Her eyes, large dark craters, were deep and inviting to those who looked closely. Her hair was the bright moonlight, flowing in small black and white rays. Her skin was deep as the night sky with stars creating portions of light. Her mood was like the tide, constantly fluctuating from destructive, crashing ocean waves to the tranquil, serene sea. People looked to her for guidance in their darkest times, always dependent on her light and annoyed when she herself was in a dark place. And yet, despite her seeming openness, she was never fully honest.

The sun and the moon were never meant to convene. But eclipses happen, as do once in a lifetime meetings.

No one remembered when the two first met, but everyone remembers when they began to change. Judith no longer burned in anger, but still shone as bright. It still was a peril to look directly at her, but only in fear of her smile blinding instead of her heat. Rosemary was no longer as cold, but still provided clarity. It was a danger to see her with the sun, but only to people who preferred her light. The two had illuminated the others features, both good and bad. And they found that they were in perfect harmony.

The moon shone brightly at the sun as she burned a beautiful red, speaking of a Leonid meteor storm that only happened once a year, and that her parents were finally allowing her to see it by herself, and maybe if she would like to come too?

“Midnight, huh? Just the two of us, watching the stars? Sounds pretty romantic if you ask me.” Judith blushed harder and spluttered, the heat infecting the moons chill. “I’m joking,” she laughed, the sound as calming as the sea. “I’d love to come. My mom’s out of town, so I can stay out as long as you want.”

Judith forced out a laugh, ignoring the connotations of the shorter girls words. “Perfect. I’ll, uh, I’ll meet you there?” She watched Rosemary’s glow dim just a smidge, her smile dropping than forcing itself back up like crashing waves.

“I’ll meet you there.”

The sun was in new territory. It was dark, and cold, and she was terrified. She was used to the blinding light, the warmth of the sky, but also the loneliness, and the glares from the others. Yet here she was, basking in the cool of the night, in the moonlight of her friend. She wasn’t even looking at the meteor shower, instead more fascinated in their reflection in the moon's eyes. They illuminated her skin, wishing to imitate the streaks in her dark hair.

Judith couldn’t handle the silence. “To be honest,” she started, the words like a tongue of flame escaping her mouth. The moon turned to her, brighter than any star above. “I just wanted an excuse to go stargazing with you.”

If the moon’s smile grew, the sun didn’t mention it. If the sun grew hot, the moon didn’t laugh. And if the two shared a kiss that night, it’s none of your concern.

High school came and went, and with the years the sun and moon began to drift away. Different plans, different hopes, different dreams. Rosemary had moved out of state for college, giving the sun a searing reminder of her love before leaving. The moon had disappeared, leaving a supernova in its wake. Judith burned hotter than ever before, setting fire to her surroundings. No one was safe from her anger, so they learned to keep their distance in fear of their safety.

It was now a lunar eclipse. The world had torn the two apart, leaving the moon in the dark and the sun unable to help her. After they separated, they tried to get on with their lives. Judith befriended clouds, who smothered her anger and dimmed her warmth. Rosemary befriended stars, who outshined her light and dulled her beauty. And yet, they refused to leave the other's mind, constantly orbiting their thoughts and circling their heads, always there but never meeting.

Years passed. The moon dated other satellites, but none lit her up as much as Judith. The sun dated other stars, but none cooled her off as much as Rosemary. They never gave up on the other, keeping an optimistic, unrealistic hope that the universe would push these two, always so close yet so far, back to where they were meant to be. Together.

And there had been many close encounters. Partial eclipses happen fairly often, as do the amount of times Judith and Rosemary almost met eyes, almost bumped into each other, almost sat on the same bench. Eventually, even the Universe grew tired of their never intersecting orbit. So, it was decided that a total eclipse would come early this year.

Judith hadn’t been expecting to see any familiar faces at the coffee shop. The clouds she befriended had decided the snuff her out like a small candle, controlling who she saw and where she went. The older, less popular coffee shop where she used to go (it was Rosemary’s favorite) was off limits, so she was forced to walk an extra four blocks to Starbucks. She despised the walk. She was cold, she was angry, but above all she was lost. Until the doors before her swung open and the moon had stepped forward, just managing to not run into her.

The moon began to ramble off apologies, not yet recognizing the sun before her. Judith could feel a small heat flicker in her chest, growing bigger and bigger as Rosemary trailed off. When the moon whispered her name, eyes glistening with tears and voice shrouded in disbelief, she felt the light within her squeeze and then burst, recreating the sun that had burned within her years ago.

“Oh my god, Judith. It’s really you, isn’t it?” A star-covered hand reached up and pressed gently against Judith’s forearm before dragging gently down, never breaking eye contact. Her hand reached Judith’s and grasped it, interlacing their fingers.

“Yeah, Rose. It’s me,” she smiled, huffing out a laugh. A throat cleared from behind her and the two quickly broke contact, apologizing and moving out of the doorway. They had released hands and, not knowing what to do with hers, Judith scratched the back of her head and gestured to the moon. “You, uh, you grew… taller.”

Rosemary gave a soft chuckle and Judith felt a flare of heat reach her face. “And you’re no smoother than you were in high school.” Embarrassment flashed through the sun and killed her warmth, an awkward sound leaving her lips. The moon reached out and tucked a ray behind her ear, lingering her touch at her cheek. “You’re just as cute though.”

“Y’know, this might, uh, this might sound weird but… I kept hoping we’d see each other again. Ever since senior year. I, uh,” she paused, noticing the odd look the moon was giving her. “I actually went to the coffee shop a few streets down, cause I remember you said it was your favorite. I always found it kinda weird we never bumped into each other.”

For once, it was the moon who blushed, a mix of dark red and pink rushing over her cheeks. The realization she made her blush made Judith smile. “It’s not weird, Jude. I actually find it kinda sweet.” A look of understanding crossed her deep eyes and she huffed in amusement. “I think I know why you never saw me there.”

“Why’s that?”

“Every morning I went to that food stand Eggslut,” a splutter of laughter left them both, tranquil chucking from Rosemary and sharp cackling from Judith, “all cause I remember how hard you laughed when you first saw it. You said that you’d go there every day once you graduated.”

A pause. Neither of them knew what to say. They had been searching for the other for years, and they had only met in the middle today. Judith wasn’t about to let her get away. “Well, if you’re free, wanna head over there now?” A look of surprise crossed her features, but she nodded nonetheless.

They shared a smile, glowing at the other. Judith scratched her scalp and offered Rosemary her hand, who took it without hesitation. They had walked a bit in silence before the moon filled the space between them. “I take back what I said earlier, by the way. That was pretty smooth.”

“Was it actually?”

“No, it was pretty terrible.”

And so the two began their dance around the cosmos, visiting planets and stars with intertwined hearts. Their light flooded every place they went, people needing to shade their view from their glow. Judith shone past the clouds, no longer letting them control where she went and who she went with. Rosemary drowned out the stars, finally believing she deserved to light up the night sky too. There were times when their anger would control them, Judith lashing out and Rosemary closing off. They would never last long, both realizing what they had done and grasping tight onto their love, not ready to let this end. They were together at last, and they planned to keep it that way.

Faster than the speed of sound, November approached. Nearly twenty years since their first trip into the galaxy, and nearly ten months since their transcendence. The two had been driving up to the cliffs near their house, the moon watching the usual nervous twitching from Judith. Rosemary noticed the familiar burning of the sun, the heat coming off in waves as she talked of the meteor shower happening that night. The moon’s crescent smile lit up the car  as she recognized the name of the phenomena.

“Recreating our first date, are we?” The moon watched amused as the sun stutter, frantically grabbing for an answer.

“Wha- I, no, I’d- I don’t know- yeah, I am,” she settled, listening to the beautiful laughter of the woman beside her. “Okay, okay, I get it. I just thought it’d, y’know, be romantic and stuff…” She trailed off, parking the car and crossing her arms.

The moon gave her a smile so full of love it nearly blinded the sun, and Rosemary left the car before opening the door for Judith. “It is romantic, Jude. I was just teasing you.” Judith huffed but accepted the extended hand. She grabbed the blanket from her trunk, as black as the night sky with stars trapped within it, and walked Rosemary to the edge of the cliff.

“Wow,” the moon gasped, looking up to the stars that seemed to glow just for her. “This view is… wow.”

“Look who’s speechless now.”

“Oh, shut up and get over here.”

Judith barked out a laugh and sat beside her moon, hand nervously reaching for her pocket. She opened her mouth to speak, but the words burned in her mouth as a meteor sailed across the sky, followed by another. She stopped short, watching Rosemary’s eyes fill with the galaxy above, and her heart filled with more love than she thought was possible.

“Thank you for bringing me here. It’s beautiful,” Rosemary whispered, leaning her head against her sun’s shoulder. Judith’s eyes never looked to the sky as she agreed, wrapping her arm around her moon. And if the ring in her pocket remained unopened for the night, and if Judith decided that no diamond could compare to Rosemary’s eyes at night, then it isn’t important. What is important is that in that moment, right then, they had each other. And that’s all that matters.

———————————————————————————————————

BETTER CIRCUMSTANCES

DARK ROOM - MIDDAY - INTERIOR

LUCAS, a police officer, is slumped over in a dark room, unconscious. Slowly, he begins to wake up, wincing at the pinching in his neck and the throbbing on the back of his head. None of those prompt him to move his arms, for some reason. Only when the corner of his eye starts to itch does he try to lift his arm.

Only for him to realize they, along with his legs, are tied to a chair

LUCAS

Wuh? What the fuck?

Lucas pulls at his arms. The rope is a little loose, enough for his arm to move back a forth a bit, but not enough to escape. He pulls harder, pressing his shoulder to his ear as if that’ll help. It doesn’t. He then moves to his legs, kicking at them. The rope stays strong but his chair leans back a bit. He kicks a little too hard and his chair falls backwards. At this exact moment, COLE, his kidnapper, steps into the room, the open door letting light inside

COLE

Well well well, look who finally decided to-

Cole stops talking. He sees the cop he kidnapped laying on the floor with a look of complete defeat on his face. Cole blinks

COLE (CONT.)

-wake up.

Cole blindly swats for the door, not wanting to look away from the strange scene before him. He finally finds it and slams the door shut, effectively cutting off the only source of light

LUCAS

Where the hell am I?

Cole has to snort. Lucas sounded so serious and tried to sound like he had some kind of power in the situation, as if he hadn’t completely lost all hope in humanity. Cole walks over to where Lucas is lying and stands over him, bending at his hips to stare him dead in the eyes

COLE

Somewhere none of your little police buddies will find you.

Lucas laughs, trying to sound intimidating

LUCAS

Oh, I doubt that.

Cole cocks his head. He finds Lucas’ confidence amusing

LUCAS (CONT.)

Y’know, I bet my partner’s hot on your tail right now.

Cole laughs softly, then suddenly pulls a knife out of his belt loop. He brings the blade up to Lucas’ face, who still doesn’t realize he needs to stop talking

COLE

Don’t sound so optimistic, officer. No one’s gonna find you, not unless I want them to.

Lucas knows he’s in deep shit at this point, sweating buckets. One wrong move and he loses an ear, but will that stop him from being a smartass? Absolutely not

COLE (CONT.)

Now, you’re going to tell me everything I want to know.

The tip of the blade moves to the center of his forehead and, in a fit of stupidity, Lucas raises his head in intimidation

LUCAS

Or else what.

A glob of spit lands on Cole’s chin. Both men find this disgusting

COLE

Oh, you don’t want to know what I have in store for you-

A voice calls out from the hallway near the room. They both know this voice

RICH

Hello? Anybody home?

Lucas’ head shoots up, the blade moving just in time for him to not lose an eye, and Cole whirls around, facing the closed door

COLE

Well shit.

He starts to bite his thumb, knowing how much shit he’ll be in when his roommate sees the guy in the room. However, Lucas smiles wickedly

LUCAS

I fucking told you, didn’t I.

Cole stops, his thumb thanking every god that he was stopped before it could start bleeding. He faces Lucas, confusion very clear on his face. This wasn’t how the afternoon was supposed to turn out

COLE

Wait, what-

But before Cole can stop him, Lucas is tilting his head as far as he can and screaming:

LUCAS

I’M HERE! I’M IN HERE!

Cole starts to shush Lucas. He knows it’s useless, but it’s the sentiment that counts. The door kicks open, and RICH stands in doorway in all his glory. He’s still stumbling a bit from kicking the door down, but slowly regaining his balance. Lucas laughs, trying to see his partner

LUCAS (CONT.)

Oh you dumb sonofabitch, I never been happier to-

He stops short, seeing his partner standing in the doorway. In a pair of boxers. And a loose college t-shirt. Holding a bowl of cereal

LUCAS (CONT.)

What the fuck.

Rich has the audacity to look embarrassed, his spoon stuck halfway to his mouth. He looks to Cole, kneeling over Lucas, who was tied to a chair, holding a knife loosely at his throat. He connects two dots that aren’t there and coughs in discomfort

RICH

Um, am I… interrupting something, or…

Cole is the first to stand, being the only one who can, tipping Lucas’ chair to the side in the progress. He drops his knife, ignoring the scared scream from Lucas, and forces a fake smile

COLE

Rich, what are you doing? You said you’d be back at seven.

Rich spoons another bunch of Fruit Loops into his mouth before talking, knowing fully well how uncomfortable the other two find it

RICH

Well, uh, Lucas over there wasn’t updating us on the whole car chase thing, so I assumed he caught the guy and I decided to go home. I guess, uh, well I guess that wasn’t the case.

Rich dunks his spoon back in his bowl and peers around Cole, then waves to Lucas

RICH (CONT.)

Hi Lucas.

Lucas and Cole share an unbelieving look before turning back to Rich. The two are completely lost, simultaneously saying:

COLE                                                LUCAS

Wait, Rich, you know                        Rich, who the fuck  this guy?                                 is this?    

Rich looks at his two friends, chuckling nervously at their twin expressions of irritation. He knew the two would get along just fine, he just wished they’d met in better circumstances

RICH

Um, well, heh, this is awkward. Uh, Cole, this is my partner Lucas. Lucas, this is Cole, my roommate.

Everyone blinks. No one knows how to respond, least of all Rich

LUCAS

How the fuck are you so calm?! You’re roommate fucking kidnapped me you dumbass! He’s a criminal!

Cole and Rich exchange looks. Cole shoots him a warning look, his jaw tensed and eyebrows raised to his forehead. Lucas ducks his head, looking as if he was sorry, before scratching at the nape of his neck. Boy was he in trouble

RICH

Yeah, yeah, I uh, I know.

LUCAS

...What?

COLE

Rich, I swear to all that is holy...

RICH

Uh...

Rich looks to Cole, regrets it immediately, then decides looking at Lucas will incur less wrath

RICH (CONT.)

Well, when I first moved in, he flipped out when he saw my badge and tried to shoot me. Heh, it was kinda funny looking back.

He risks an amused glance at Cole, who’s glare would probably make him spontaneously combust if he really wanted. He decides to avoid Cole as he explains himself

RICH (CONT.)

It was a dumb little pact thingy. I promised him and his friends a few freebies, he makes sure I get protection from his friends. Good times, weren’t they Cole?

He takes a step to Cole, who in turn shoved him into the hallway. Rich’s cereal spills on the ground and he lets out a weak ‘no’. The door slams shut leaving Lucas in the pitch black room, wondering how the hell he ended up captured by that complete dumbass. He feels something with his hand and smiles

RICH AND COLE’S KITCHEN - MIDDAY - INTERIOR

Cole paces around the kitchen across from the door, having grabbed one of the many large knives and gesturing wildly with it as he scolds Rich. The man in question is sweating enough to fill a bathtub, distracting himself by staring sadly at his spilled Fruit Loops

COLE

I can’t fucking believe you dude! You know what this means for me, right? What it means for us?

The knife points between him and Rich multiple times. Rich shakes his head and subtly takes a step backwards, putting more space between him and his knife wielding friend

COLE (CONT.)

If this shit gets out, we’re both going to jail, and I can’t go to fucking jail.

He breathes, scratching his head with the hilt of the knife, and a soft worried noise escape Rich

COLE (CONT.)

Well, it’s decided. I gotta kill the fucker.

Rich blinks

RICH

Um, what the fuck Cole.

COLE

Dude, it’s all your fault I gotta kill him.

RICH

How the fuck is it my fault?!

COLE

You told him about me you shithead!

Cole stabs the knife into the table, an undignified squeak coming from Rich as he jumps three feet in the air. Rich will deny this until the day he dies. No one hears the crashing glass

COLE (CONT.)

If you just kept your dumbass mouth shut, we wouldn’t be in this situation, would we? But no, you just gotta keep blabbing, don’t ya!

Rich hangs his head, realizing that yeah, it kinda was his fault. Cole takes a breath, calming down, and seeing that yeah, he overreacted a lot. He grabs Rich’s shoulders apologetically, however the hell that works

COLE (CONT.)

Hey man, I’m sorry. I guess I kinda blew things outta proportion, didn’t I.

The two laugh and Rich nods. He raises his head and looks Cole dead in the eye. Uh oh, he’s scheming something

RICH

Uh, maybe instead of killing him right away, we could, y’know, fucking, talk to him like a normal human being. Explain what this whole thing is. Maybe he’ll understand and not turn us in?

Cole smiles softly at Rich’s dumb optimism. He sighs and opens his mouth to argue, but Rich was staring at him with those damn puppy eyes and fuck. Rich lets out a disappointed sigh when Cole doesn’t speak, and Cole couldn’t stand it. He breaks

COLE

Okay! Fine! I won’t kill him yet! Let’s talk to him.

Rich brightens immediately, and Cole realizes he’s been played

COLE (CONT.)

Oh you manipulative bastard. I’m still taking my knife with me.

Rich laughs as Cole takes a moment, struggling to pull the knife out of the counter top. He approaches the door and grabs the doorknob

RICH

Yeah yeah, okay, just try not to scare him too much, I actually-

He pauses, looking into the now fully lit room. The curtain covering the windows are ripped off, illuminating the empty chair and cut ropes, with a small trail of blood leading down the floor and to the shattered glass

RICH (CONT.)

Like this guy...

Cole runs to the window, angrier than Rich has ever seen him. He’s almost literally fuming

COLE

The fucker’s trying to steal my car.

Cole swings his knife brandishing hand, pushing past Rich

COLE (CONT.)

That’s it, I’m gonna kill him and no one’s fucking stopping me.

Rich goes completely into the room, seeing the empty chair that’s lying on its side. It’s left armrest is covered with blood drops and cut marks. He walks through the rest of the room, nearly slipping on a few wet spots. Rich stops at the back, the window broken open with a nice breeze blowing into the room. He looks down, seeing Lucas lying on the ground next to Cole’s car, his left leg twisted at an odd angle. Cole is standing over him and Rich doesn’t think he can keep watching

LUCAS

Hey man, I-I’m sorry.

Lucas is cut off by a wet slice. Rich looks away, pressing his fingers to his temples and he walks out of the room. He reaches the counter where he placed his jacket earlier and pulls out a piece of paper. Rich grabs one of the pens on the counter and marks off the fourth of twenty spaces, each labelled “Get Out Of Jail Free.”

RICH

Goddammit Cole, that’s the fourth guy this month.

[video-killed-the-radio-host]

Dignus Es, (reuploaded because Tumblr was being dumb)

@acealex-blueiguana and I wrote this lovely piece of angst(with a happy ending of course!)  I'm honored to be able to have Michael in my writing, along with the amazing writting of Alex. After a three day(give or take) game of writer tag and 8k words later, here it is. 

Cecil didn't think anything of it when Michael started coughing. Michael was always coughing. Of course he wanted to put an end to it. Cecil would lay his life down for Michael. But there wasn't anything he could do to help. Legally anyway. So he forced himself to settle for doing his best during office hours.Thanks to his third eye, he saw everything. The third eye was both a blessing and a curse. He used it during the shows to get the most accurate facts. Cecil was also plagued with visions of things he didn’t want to see. He saw everytime Michael was hit. Everytime he was starved. Everytime he was attacked. It kept him up at night and shook him to his very core.

He knew he could never say anything to Michael about it because he knew Michael would shut himself away even more or maybe stop coming to work at all. Cecil didn’t know if he could handle that. He would get the visions at random times; talking to Carlos, on the air once or twice, in the shower, at the market, or the dead of night.

At the moment, Cecil sprawled shirtless across the bed, his shirt tossed to the side. His face and chest were flushed a bright lavender color and his eyes-all three- were screwed shut as Carlos peppers kisses down his neck, leaving gentle bites in his wake. He scrapes his teeth over the collar bone, making Cecil gasp and squirm.

“Carlos! Don’t tease.” He wines.

Carlos just made a humming noises and kisses down his torso. Just as he reaches the belly button, Cecil’s eyes snap open and his body goes rigid. His skin lost its warmth as a brilliant violet light shone from Cecil’s forehead. Carlos sits up with concern on his face.

“Cecil?”

Cecil was staring up at the ceiling, his eyes unseeing. Carlos carefully climbs back up to the head of the bed, all thoughts of sex gone from his mind as he cradles Cecil’s head and rubs slow, small circles into the taller man’s temples. He learned the hard way that it’s dangerous to try and pull Cecil out of a vision. The only thing he could do was wait them out. Then he would take care of him. He felt hot tears hit his palm and knew instantly that this was a vision that had to do with Michael. Those tended to be the worst. Cecil started to shake and tightens his fists in the sheets. Carlos knew that Cecil wanted nothing more than to go down to that house and tear the ‘parents’ apart. Carlos didn’t blame him. He felt the same way. But they couldn’t. Not now.

It wasn’t long before Cecil jerked upright with a hoarse scream.

He looked around blindly, his eyes still wide. Carlos reaches over and carefully puts the purple frames on Cecil’s face.

“Hey. You’re okay. Are you with me?” Carlos asks. He knew it was very much not okay but he needed to calm Cecil down at the moment.

“Carlos…” Cecil breaths softly. His face crumpled the way it did just before he broke down.

“I know love.” Carlos reaches out and brushes his knuckle down Cecil’s cheek, catching the tears.

“He-and-and t-they-” He takes a deep shuddering breath. He couldn’t bring himself to go on, but the images were burned into his mind. Instead, he draws his knees up and wraps his arms around himself. “I feel so dirty.” He whispers. He then looks up at Carlos. “I hate them.”

Being hated by Cecil was a heavy sentence. He truly hated very few people. When Cecil Palmer hated you, you knew it.

“More than Steve?” Carlos asked, not even sure why.

“More than Lauren.”

Damn. Carlos should have expected that answer, but that answer held a lot held a lot of weight.

“Carlos?” The soft question brought Carlos out of his head. He turned his attention back to Cecil, who’s eyes were puffy and red but dry now.

“Yes?”

“Will you make me a bath? And then hold me?”

“Of course.” He starts to lean over but stops himself, knowing Cecil was sensitive like this. “May I?”

Cecil inclines his head with a small grateful smile. “Yes.”

Carlos presses a gentle kiss to Cecil’s forehead before standing. “I’ll be right back to get you. Don’t go anywhere.”

He steps out of the room and into the bathroom. He starts the water after chanting at the faucet. He pulls down the lavender, ylang-ylang, frankincense and chamomile oils, mixing them together before adding them to the bath. Once the tub was full, Carlos turns the water off and stands, his knees groaning in protest. He returns to the bedroom to find Cecil curled up on his side, lazily tracing patterns in the blanket with his index finger.

“I got your bath all set up.” Carlos says, unable to help the small smile on his face. He offers his hand when Cecil looks up at him. Cecil takes his hand and Carlos lets out a soft yelp at how cold he is. Cecil gives a sheepish smile in return.

“Sorry.”

“Come on. Let's get you warmed up.”

He slowly leads Cecil to the bathroom, helps him finish stripping and eases him into the bathtub, situation his long limbs. Cecil lets out a long sigh and he relaxes. Carlos sits in the floor facing Cecil, who had his closed again. But this time it wasn’t in fear. Just in relaxation.

“Carlos?”

“Yes?”

“Will you sing to me?”

“Which song?”

Cecil is quiet for a moment. “The one you were singing earlier?”

Carlos smiles a little. He taps his foot on the floor to keep a beat. “I swear you got me acting crazy

Half the time I don't know what my name is

I'm the kind that like to take it slow and lazy

And girl you got me running hot and haziest

Oh, I love you like I never

Oh, I love you like I never

Oh, I love you like I never loved before

Boy you got me burning like a rocket

You stole my heart and stuck it in your pocket

Now I got your face inside my locket

I've really tried but I don't think I can stop it baby

Oh, I love you like I never

Oh, I love you like I never

Oh, I love you like I never loved before.” Carlos reaches out and takes Cecil’s hand. “You sat beside me last night on the sofa

I took your hand and pulled you a little closer

You kiss my lips and then you let me hold you

That feels the way that love supposed to baby

Oh, I love you like I never

Oh, I love you like I never

Oh, I love you like I never loved before

You held the door when we went to the movies

I like your quirky sneaky sense of humor

You're strong and sweet and all the things I needed

You're the one that keeps my heart beating baby

Oh, I love you like I never

Oh, I love you like I never

Oh, I love you like I never loved before

Oh, my heart stops beating

When it's time for you to leave me

Yeah, and my head starts spinning

Every time that you are near me

Oh, I love you like I never

Oh, I love you like I never

Oh, I love you like I never loved before.” Carlos drags the last note out, noting the light blush starting to spread across Cecil’s cheeks. He brings his free hand up to move brush his thumb over Cecil’s cheekbones. “You are something else, you know that?”

“Well that is what I’ve been told.” Cecil answers. His eyes flutter closed.

Cecil looked so different when he was relaxed. He looked older than he was, and he had bags under his eyes. His long eyelashes curl against his cheeks. The man is exhausted. Of course he is. With all he goes through on a daily basis. Cecil made a noise and shifts in the water, making some overflow the lip of the tub and splash on Carlos’ pants.

“I can feel you watching me.” Cecil says without opening his eyes.

“I’m a scientist. Observing is part of what I do.” Came the soft answer.

Cecil opens his eyes a little. “Want to wash my hair?”

“You’re okay for me to touch you?”

“Your touch keeps me grounded. I need that right now.” Cecil looks up at him, his expression soft, open, vulnerable.

“Yeah.” Carlos smiles just a little. “Okay.” He reaches over and picks up the bottle, shifting to his knees. He pours the soap onto his palm, rubbing it between his fingers before starting to wash Cecil's long, soft hair. Cecil's hair always made Carlos jealous, no matter how perfect Cecil claimed his own was. Cecil's was always soft and tangle free no matter how many days he goes without brushing it or how he twisted it around his heard. His own hair was always a mess of tangled curls that he just pulled into a ponytail and that was that. Carlos slides his fingers through the blonde silk before putting his hands in the water to rinse his hands off.

“Close your eyes.” He says, reaching over to tilt Cecil's chin up. Cecil makes a noise to show he understood and closed his eyes. Carlos picked on the cup sitting on the floor, dipping it into the water and pouring it over Cecil's head. The soap suds run down into the water. Cecil makes a humming noise, arching his back. Carlos chuckles. He finishes rinsing out the soap.

“All done.”

Cecil looks up at him. “Thank you.”

Carlos kisses his forehead, over the third eye. “Let's get you to bed. You look dead on your feet.”

“I feel it.”

Carlos reaches over and picks up the fluffy towel, offering his hand to help Cecil stand. Cecil wraps the goal around his waist and looks around.

“Sit.” Carlos says gently. He eases Cecil onto the toilet and grabs the hair dryer. He clicks it on and starts to dry Cecil's hair.

“You know I can do it right?” Cecil asked, having to raise his voice to be heard.

Carlos clicks the hair dryer off. “I know. But I'm taking care of you tonight.”

Cecil opens his mouth to protest but Carlos turns the hair dryer back on and finishing the task at hand. He then picks up a hair brush and after brushing out the mess before putting it up into a well practiced French braid that looked good despite Cecil's constant wiggling.

“Come on. Let's get you to bed.”

Cecil shivers, as if he just remembered he was naked. “Can I wear your shirt? The red one?”

Carlos gives a little smile. He expected the question. “Of course.” He holds out his hands, which Cecil took and stands, letting himself be lead to the bedroom. Cecil sits on the bed after pulling on a pair of boxers and watches as Carlos digs in the dresser, pulling out the flannel. It was the flannel he was wearing when he met Cecil all those years ago. He hands it over and Cecil puts it on. It hung on the thin man’s frame and the sleeves were to long. Cecil hurriedly buttons it, not seeming to care if it was crooked. Carlos found it absolutely adorable. He sits on the edge of the bed and pulls his hair down and set his glasses on the nightstand. He carefully takes Cecil’s from his face and sets them beside his own before laying down and opening his arms in invitation. Cecil lays down, snuggling close. His head over Carlos’ heart. Carlos left the light on until Cecil was asleep, which didn’t take long at all. Once the other man’s breath evened out and deepened, Carlos reaches over and turned the lamp off.

-----.-----

Cecil arrived at the station early the next day, per Management's request. He makes his way to the breakroom to make coffee, rubbing the side of his face to wake up, though he isn’t truly awake until after his second cup of coffee. The coffee pot was being espically honery today and skidded across the table.

“Don’t make me bolt you to the counter again.” Cecil threatens. “Don’t think I won’t.”

The coffee pot went still and Cecil got his coffee. He sips it with a soft moan but that’s when the flash of white caught his eye. Crouching down to instcpt, Cecil dropped his mug. It hit the tile and shattered, making coffee spill across the floor. He picked up the white petals, feeling his breath catch in his throat. He knew exactly what that meant. He brings his hand up to touch the base of his throat where the bloom sat six years ago. He swallows thickly and upon closer inspection, he realizes the petals are that of the morning glory. Cecil feels his blood run cold. He didn’t want to be the reason someone died. That on top of trying to save Michael and the horrors of the day to day might be enough to actually break his mind. He cleans up the flowers and the broken glass and coffee before leaving the breakroom. The petals were fresh, as they were still wet. That meant whomever they belonged to was in the station. He was pretty sure if wasn’t Station Management so that left the interns and the Scotts.

Cecil makes his way through the station, starting with the bathroom. The bathroom was empty save for Khoshekh. The cat blinks slowly at Cecil when he entered and made a noise that resembled a purr.

“Hey Khoshekh. Did you see someone in here?” Cecil asks, petting the cat’s ear carefully.

Khoshekh hovers quietly.

“Hm. Thanks anyway.” Cecil gives one last pay before leaving the cat to do whatever it is he does during the day. Just down the hall was the intern breakroom. Cecil didn’t particularly like going in that room. The ever growing intern shrine always made guilt clench his heart. Taking a breath, Cecil steps into the room. He pointedly didn’t look at the shrine as he walks further into the room. More petals near the couch. Cecil’s heart sank. It was an intern. Yet again, Cecil would be the cause of a child’s death. Then he hears it. The faint coughing. Springing to his feet, Cecil runs from the intern break room. The sound was coming from the recording booth. He pushes the door open and looked around the desk. The sight made him stumble back with a gasp. Then he rushed forward, dropping to his knees amongst the flowers, petals and blood spatters.

“Michael?” He could hear the panic in his own voice. “Can you hear me?”

Michael doesn’t respond to Cecil’s frantic question. It’s not like he could if he wanted to. His vision is full of dark spots and everything sounds muffled as he continues to hack up his lungs. Petals upon petals spill onto the floor in front of him and most bear his blood. He’s doubled over on the ground as he keeps coughing.

After a long minute of struggling around the flowers in his throat, Michael is finally able to breathe again. Gasping for air, his entire body shakes, but eventually he opens his eyes. His hands are speckled with his blood as they rest on the petals in front of him. That’s when he notices he’s no longer alone.

“I-I’m sorry, Ceec…’ll-’ll clean it up… m s-sorry…” The choking boy wheezes as he tries to pick up all the flowers.

Cecil nearly passed out from relief. “Oh thank god. You're alive.” He breathed. He put his hand on Michael's. “Stop. You don't need to do that. Michael, when did this start?” He asks softly. “Why didn't you tell me?”

Why didn't I see?

The kid stalls when Cecil rests his hand on his. “Have t clean the- the booth...s my job…” his voice is merely a hoarse whisper. “I-I dunno...few weeks? Maybe- maybe a month or- or two?” Michael’s cut off as he painfully coughs up a bloody morning glory. “s- s not your problem...Mother and-and Father said-” He can’t finish his sentence as he doubles over again, cupping his hands to his mouth to catch the petals and blood.

It very much is my problem. Cecil feels his heart hurt watching the scene in front of him.

“You should have told me. I wish I had known.” He reaches over and brushes away a petal that had gotten stuck to Michael's bottom lip. He blamed himself for not noticing. He knew the signs. Hell, he had them himself. He should have seen. Should have helped. “I-i should have known.”

Michael tenses at Cecil's words and tries not to flinch when he brushes the stuck petal away. He instinctively holds his breath, but the lump of flowers in his lungs says differently and causes him to choke even more. His thin frame was trembling as he forced another blossom out of his lungs. He winced at the amount of blood on them. But what really worried him was the purple dahlia petals. He quickly pushed the pile together to hide the few purple ones among the morning glories.

"m-m s-sorry... didnt want- I didn't want you to be mad... or- or laugh at it..." He draws in a shuddering breath that causes a whistling noise. "Was scared you'd react like Mother and Father...tried to- tried to keep it hidden... didn't want you t be mad at me for- for making a mess...m s-sorry..."

Cecil's expression softens. “I'm not mad and this is no laughing matter.” He felt that he was a bit of a hypocrite in this situation. He did hide his own suffering for a year. “I care about you too much to watch you be hurt. Or suffering.” He leans forward on his hands a bit. “I'm not mad. About the mess or otherwise. But I can't help you if I don't know.”

Cecil was concerned at the number of full blossoms that were being coughed up, and the amount of blood that came with them.

"Classmates laugh...more fuel for them...find it funny t kick til petals cover the ground..." Michael's voice is hardly above a whisper. He's scared of how Cecil will react, but based on what he knows he won't have to live with the consequences for that long. "You-you know now?" He tries to joke. Tries to make Cecil feel better, but he knows it likely won't work.

His lips are slick with his own blood, but he still tries to give the radio host a reassuring smile. It disappears quickly as he begins to cough again. Three full morning glories, stained red, and a fistful of dahlia petals. He tries to cover them, but he knows it's likely too late. If Cecil wasn't mad before, then he will be now.

Cecil opened his mouth to stop the jokes as none of this was funny but the purple petals caught his eye as soon they left Michael's mouth. He knew exactly what those petals meant and who they were for.

“Oh dear.” He says, voice shaking despite him trying to remain calm. Truthfully he was on the verge of flipping out. “This is worse than we thought.” Pulling his sleeve over his hand, he gently wipes Michael's face. “I think you've grown a second bud. I've never heard of that before.” The last part was whispered, barely audible.

He always knew he would never live to see himself turn 18. Michael had accepted that long ago. He always knew he was unlovable; his parents reminded him every day. They were happy the day he spit up the first petal all those weeks ago. They knew he would finally be out of their hair. They made snide remarks when he choked and yelled when he got blood or petals on anything.

That was when he decided to hide it from Cecil. He loved Cecil and Carlos. He knew it wasn't a good idea the first time he started feeling it. Cecil and Carlos were good people. They were good people who decided to take in a broken thing, and this is how he would die. Most would likely cry at dying this way, but to Michael it was the best way he could go. It was extremely painful, but then again what part of his life wasn't? He was happy to know that for once in his life he felt love towards not one but two people. In another life Michael wished they were his parents and not the Richardsons. But that was impossible. He was trapped in that house, and he was certain it would be his grave.

The morning glories were more developed than the dahlias. To Michael it was obvious why. He had known Cecil far longer than Carlos, and he spent more time with the radio host than the scientist. That being said, Michael still coughs blooming dahlias among the morning glories. The entire first month was full of white petals, and come the next month it was white and purple.

The boy closed his eyes as he focuses on breathing. "Its okay, Ceec-y...m-m ready...ve been ready for- for years now..." His voice strained. More purple petals spill from his mouth as he coughs again. A single bloody morning glory landing on top of the purple dahlias.

Cecil balls his fists against his pant legs and shakes his head. “I refuse to believe that.” His voice is surprisingly steady. “I can't- I'm not-” He takes a deep breath, trying to get his thoughts in order. “You don't deserve to die like this. Not when-” His voice cracks at the end. “You have so much life left to live and experience.” He ducks his head as his tears start to overflow his eyes, hitting his hands. “I don't care if-if it's selfish of me, but I don't want you to die. I want you to live. I need you in my life. I want-” he pauses again to take a deep breath. “I know what they do to you. I mean I didn't see….this, for some reason….but everything else. I saw it. And it isn't right. And I love you too much to let you die without doing something-anything- to help you. Please.” He drops to a whisper. “Just live long enough to let me help you.”

Michael tries to wipe away Cecil's tears, but his fingers are stained with his own blood and accidentally smears onto the host’s face. He pulls back as he chokes on the flowers again. Spitting more purple than white, but they were strangling him nonetheless. He's seeing spots again when he finally stops coughing.

The dying boy shakes his head. "Dont- dont lie...please dont lie...not now...you'll get a- a better intern...one that doesn't make you miss or-or late..." Michael wheezes and groans. "H-hurts...it-it hurts...m-m sorry..." His vision does not clear. Then he remembers his binder, and he cant get enough air into his lungs. His arms shake as they try to keep him from falling into the bloody petals. His entire world is dimming and spinning. “m s-sorry, Mr. Ce-Cecil”

“I don't want a better intern! I want you!” Cecil cries out. He digs in his pocket and pulls out his phone, hitting the first number on the speed dial. It rang once before the line was picked up.

“Hello beautiful.”

“How far from the station are you?” Cecil asks, his voice wet again.

“I'm just leaving the house…..what's wrong? Are you hurt? Did something happen?”

“Just….get here as fast as you can. Please. I need you.” That's all he manages to get out before breaking down again. He sets the phone aside and cradles Michael's face. “Stay with me. Look at me. Carlos is coming. We can stop this.” He is begging now. “Please don't leave me.” He takes Michael's hand in his own. “Please. Stay. I love you.”

Michael hardly reacts when Cecil yells, only flinching a tad bit. He's trying to use the last of his energy to stay awake. He wants to say goodbye to Carlos before he never sees them again. Michael slumps into Cecil as he chokes on blood and flowers. The boys eyes are foggy as he fights to keep them open and focused on the radio host.

"m unlovable...always have been...m s-sorry..." His eyes flutter close as he gasps and suffocates.

“No. Nononono. No no no.” Cecil growls out. “You are not taking him from me in this way.” He is sending the threat to no one in particular but that doesn't matter. Cecil lays Michael flat on the floor. He presses his hands onto the boy's chest, and that's when he felt the binder. He whispers a quick apology, not that it mattered at this point, before reaching under Michael's shirt and pulling the binder off. He then starts chest compressions and reciting every prayer and incantation that he can recall. He does his best to keep the movement steady before leaning down and blowing. He came up with a mouthful of purple petals, spitting them into the floor and continuing. The more he pushed, the more petals came up. It was like an endless river. He refused to just give up though, no matter how long this took. Then he heard running footsteps. His pressing faltered slightly when he looked up.

“Oh my god.” Carlos says, his face going pale. “Did you know?”

“No!” Cecil snaps, counting under his breath. Carlos can see his arms shaking as he struggled. He watches Cecil lean over and press his lips to Michael, only to come up with a mouthful of purple petals. Purple dahlia petals. Carlos felt his heart clench.

“Cecil.” Carlos says softly, crossing the room and sitting down beside them. “He isn't breathing. I think-”

“Don't you dare finish that sentence Carlos Fernando Mendez-Palmer.” Cecil growls, though his resolve is cracking. “I refuse to let him die here. Now you can either help me or go get me someone who can.”

Carlos knows he can't do anything to stop this, short of restraining Cecil and making the man hate him. “Here. Let me. You can't keep a steady rhythm when you're shaking so much.” He shifts to his knees and puts his hands over Cecil's, starting compressions once again. He can feel Cecil trembling beneath his hands like a wet chihuahua. “Look at me.” He says softly.

Showing obvious hesitance, Cecil does so.

“Do you really think we have a chance of saving him?”

The scientist side of Carlos is telling him that it isn't possible, but this was Night Vale after all. This was Cecil of all people.

“I do.” It was whispered, scared, but honest. “I really do. He deserves for us to try. We owe him that.”

With that, Cecil leans back down, extracting yet another mouthful of purple petals. The ever growing pile beside him was alarmingly large. Carlos kept their hands pushing, in hopes of finding even the slightest heartbeat.

“Come on Michael.” Carlos says. “Come back to us pez pequeño. I need you to come back. I'll fight your parents myself if I have to.”

He's not sure how much time has passed, but Michael was growing colder by the minute.

Michael's floating in a void. But the first thing he notes is his ability to breathe. His airways are clear, and hes can actually take deep breaths. Its peaceful. Its painless. And he's been here before, though this one seems to have changed. The last time he wasn't able to feel anything at all, but now he can feel something. He's not quite sure if it's a good thing yet.

Regardless, he has to make a decision soon. To go back to the world of pain and suffering or to accept the void and continue onward. If Michael's being honest, he's scared to go forward. He's always gone back home. It's not safe, but it is familiar.

He thinks for only a moment of leaving the world behind, but then he remembers the people he loves. He never got to say goodbye to them. Not properly anyway.

That's when he feels pressure on his chest. A constant steady beat. Hes felt this before. Then the feeling of air being forced into his lungs. They're fighting for him? But why? Likely because he didn't clean up his mess before being rude and dying there. So Michael fights back. Trying to latch onto the sensations to slowly drag himself back to his body. Back to Cecil and Carlos.

Carlos keeps pushing, looking up to find Cecil pulling a full blossom out of his mouth. He makes a face and sets it aside.

“Just so you know,” Cecil says, wiping his mouth before laying his hands over Carlos’. “Your flowers taste terrible.”

Carlos gives a dry chuckle. “I do apologize. I'll keep that in mind.”

Cecil looks up and meets Carlos’ eyes. “Thank you for helping me.”

“Cecil, you are crazy.” Carlos holds up his hand when Cecil opens his mouth to protest. “ But I know that when you truly believe in something, you are unstoppable. A force that can't be moved. I made a vow to stick by you and I intend to keep that promise.”

Michael's fighting like hell to escape the void. He knows he will be back here again, but he has to say goodbye. He has to. So he keeps clawing and kicking to get back to his body. He's not fully there yet, but he's making progress.

Michael's fingers twitch slightly.

Cecil gives a fond little smile before he felt something twitch against his leg. He gives a soft gasp. “Carlos.” He breathes.

“Hm?”

“He moved! It's working. Oh god.” Cecil babbles. “Its working. Michael? Michael? Can you hear me?”

'Vaguely. It's all muffled, Mr. Radio Host.' Michael says to himself. He's still stuck in the void, but he can feel himself getting closer to coming back.

But just as he almost gets there, he feels trapped in a vacuum. He can't breathe. His body isn't strong enough yet. The flowers in his lungs are still making it near impossible to breathe. 'Don't stop! Please! I cant breathe on my own!'

The boy's fingers twitch again before stilling. His chest not rising or falling on his own. His blood stained lips still tinted blue.

“Cecil, you have to keep going. He isn’t breathing yet.” Carlos says, pressing his hands down harder. He watches Cecil lean back down. More petals were pulled out then whole flowers. They were still bloody at this point. At this point, Cecil’s lips were as red as Michael’s, due to being pressed against the boy’s lips. Cecil was still whispering under his breath, but what, Carlos couldn’t make out. It likely wasn’t in English.

Cecil keeps pulling the petals, his tongue raw from the soft, bloody petals. He didn’t care.

“Quod si non lux lucet in Penitus,

SAECULA extra fluxus et non abscondam.

Quod lucet in anima,

Curaret facere decrevi.

Sic luceat lux vestra hoc mirabilis,

Auxilium meum dolorem miserere mei: sana ut-nocte.

Memoria mea lux vestra introrsus

Adducere pax et caritas, neque plures in sempiternum". He prays desperately. It was rare that he used this level of desperation, but it was necessary now. Leaning down, Cecil draws out yet another mouthful. He spits them out and sits up, catching his breath. He takes a deep breath and then leans back down.

Agony. Michael was in absolute agony. In the void he couldn't die. He was already dead or, well, dying, so not being able to breathe was excruciating. Relief came with more pain. The pressure on his chest tripled, but then air was filling his lungs. Pressure was removed from his lungs everytime his body was made to exhale. It ached, but luckily he couldn't feel it that much. All he knew was that they were still fighting, so he would too. So he dragged himself closer to the door. Closer to Cecil and Carlos.

Cecil watches Michael's face closely for any sign over movement. Carlos kept the compressions going but Cecil was concerned. He knows he felt the movement and it wasn't just in his head. It couldn't be. He used his sleeve to clean the blood away from Michael's mouth, seeing that they were still blue tinted but not near as bad.

“I know you can do this.” He whispers. “Come back to me.” He blows again, forcing more air into the child's lungs.

‘I'm trying, Ceec.’ Michael whispers. Hes so close now, but it's like the void has changed its mind. It doesn't want him to leave anymore. There's a heavy force pushing against him.

It takes everything in him to get to the door frame. Hes clinging to it as the force tries to pull him back. It wants to keep him forever, but Michael has to go back. ‘I have to say goodbye.’

Michael's fingers twitch again and there's brief movement beneath his eyelids.

Cecil doesn't notice the movement. His own eyes are closed as he pushed more air in. Less petals and flowers were coming up, which Cecil assumed was a good thing. He pulls up, looking down again. He stared down and bites his lip in worry. “Come on…”

“Again.” Carlos says. “I saw his finger twitch. We're closer.” He felt the hope bubbling up in his chest. Is this really happening? He asked, feeling a slight tingle in his fingertips.

Michael barely manages to reach the door knob, but he twists as soon as he can. The door pushes open, and Michael falls through.

Michael jerks up as he gasps for air. Wheezing around the flowers, he spits petals and blood. His memory is fuzzy, but it felt a lot less than before he died. Regardless, the boy trembles as he coughs and gasps for air.

Cecil falls back, spitting the last of the petals out. He gives a strangled cry of relief. “Oh thank the gods.”

Carlos jerked his hands back as Michael sits up. He nearly gets smacked in the head. “Woah. Easy. Deep breaths. Slowly.” He instructs. He gives a wairy smile. “You gave us quite a scare there.”

“Had to- had to come back.” Michael rasps. “Didn't- I didn't get to say goodbye.”

The young boy squeezes his eyes closed as he whimpers in pain and coughs up more flowers. The morning glories are completely red now, and the dahlias are a deep maroon.

“I needed to say ‘I love you’ and ‘goodbye.’” he whispers.

“What? No. No.” Cecil shakes his head. “No.” He reaches out and takes Michael’s hand. “Please don’t.” He begs. His feeling of relief was instantly replaced with cold dread.

Carlos reaches over and touches Michael’s arm. “I love you Michael. But I don’t want to say goodbye. Not yet. Not here.” His voice was surprisingly steady as he talked.

Michael weakly shakes his head before coughing up more bloody petals. “Don't- don't lie...p-plea-” he's cut off by another painful coughing fit. “m n-not able to be loved...accepted it years ago…” The dying boy pauses. He tries to give Cecil a reassuring smile, but his teeth are stained with his blood. The lopsided smile that took so much time for the couple to earn was now matching the morning glories on the floor around them. “s-s okay, Ceec. m ready...don't- don't need t lie, Carlos.” He doubles over again, but this time even more blood came with the flowers.

“You're wrong.” Cecil chokes out. “You are loved. I love you.” His heart broke at the scene in front of him. If Michael dies here, he would never set foot in this booth again. He couldn't.

“Michael, I never lie about who I love. And I love you. Please….” Carlos meets his eyes best he could. “Don't let this end here. Don't let their lies keep you from being happy. Don't” He takes a deep breath and pushes his hair back. “Don't die.”

The boy shakes his head as he coughs. More blood and petals pooled on the floor but it was less than the coughing fit before. Whether or not he recognized or admitted it, hearing them say those words were keeping him alive.

"I'm not...I don't deserve-" Michael chokes on more petals and after he can breathe again he doesn't finish his sentence. 'I don't deserve love. Or happiness. Or life...'

“You do. Michael you deserve so much more than we can give you, so so much more.”

“That being said, we want to try. Help. Get you out of that hell hole. Because that's what you do for the people you love.”

'I deserve what happens at home...it's my fault." Michael shakes his thoughts out. "Never suppose to live this long...it hurts...but m glad I got t feel love towards you..." Michael spits more flowers up. His throat is shot from all the stress on it. "Th-thank you...you made it better...made it worth the pain...don't regret it..." he weakly whispers.

Cecil can't speak any more. He covers his mouth with his hand and sobbing softly. He keeps shaking his head to deny what was happening. Nononono no. Was this his punishment? For not doing anything when he first found out what was happening to Michael? Looks like you really do break everything you touch.

Carlos reaches over and pulls Cecil to him, shaking his head. “No. It's not your time yet.”

Fresh blood shines on Michael's lips. His eyes are losing their brightness again, and he curls into himself in pain as he throws up more flowers.

"Dont- dont cry...please...s not- s not worth it..." Michael wheezes. "Maybe ll join the- the lights above the Arby's...always thought they were neat..."

He feels like his lungs are ripping apart. Its immensely painful, but he tries to keep a brave face. He has to for Cecil. Carlos is a scientist, and he knows how to look after the host. But Cecil- he cant see the spark in the radio host's eyes go out. Not because of him.

Cecil takes a breath in, coughing on exhale. “It is worth it. You aren't listening to me.” He has to pause before he can go on. “You're a good listener so listen when I tell you that you are worth it. You are. I'm sorry I wasn't there to help you when you needed it. And I'm sorry I didn't notice you suffering right in front of me all this time and-and I just watched them hurt you instead of figuring out some way some way to help you. I should have been better. Give me the chance to be better.”

Michael's heart aches at Cecil's words, and if he wasn't suffocating he would've tensed at the tone of his voice and word choices. He can't save himself. He's dying because hes unlovable. He knew he would likely die in this station. And he knew there was nothing he could do. He was dying now, and he can't do anything to stop it. He doesn't know how to stop it. So he makes a decision.

"I-I promise ll always love you. Both of you. Even when m gone, ll love you...the first people ve ever got t love." Michael holds his pinkie out towards the couple. It's the last thing he might ever do, but he never breaks a promise.

Carlos reaches over first to seal the promise. Cecil is still shaking and murmuring to himself. “Promise.” He says, swallowing thickly.

Slowly, Cecil uncurls himself and reaches out to join. “Promise.” It was a hoarse whisper, but there nonetheless.

Blood and petals pour from the dying kid's mouth. "I never break a promise… It's forever… They're everlasting." He rasps. Tears fall from his tide pod eyes as he curls into himself and coughs more bloody flowers. "It-it hurts...m s-sorry...it hurts..."

“Actually no.” It's Carlos that speaks. He pulls his hand away. Cecil makes a noise of surprise and confusion. “I'm not making this promise if it means that you die. I'm not letting you off that easily.”

“Carlos-”

“No.” He shakes his head. “Michael, you know we love you. I know for a fact you love us. You need to believe us. Because this…..this isn't something that gets used lightly and without meaning. Please.”

"Hngh" Michael wraps his arms around himself as the flowers grow and shift inside him. He chokes up three blood soaked purple dahlias and a single morning glory. 'Hes mad. He's mad and m dying and I can't fix it. Hes bound to hate me. I'm ruining the booth and breaking his husband.'

"m s-sorry...p-please dont- dont hate me...m tryi-" Michael's struggling to get air in his lungs. Dark spots begin to dance in his vision again. Hes fading fast.

Cecil is shocked at the roll reversal between them. “Michael, we don't hate you.”

“Do you want to die?” Carlos asks. “I don't think you do. I could be wrong but the saying is 'a scientist is never wrong’. Michael, I would do anything for you. Give up everything to see you happy. I-” he stops talking when Michael starts to struggle. “Shit.”  He presses his hands to the side of his face. Think. Think. “On your side.” He instructs. “Your lungs are filling up and being on your side could give you more time. I'm not ready to let you go yet. I just met you after all.”

Michael let's himself fall to his side as he chokes on more flowers and blood. They seem never ending. The air he manages to take in is small and causes a pained whistle sound as he breathes. He focuses more on air then talking. He said what he needed, and now he's dying again. He was destined to die when the disease required love. He's never truly been loved. People have said it but never meant it. He has no reason to believe this is any different.

“I-i c-cant. I can't Carlos. I did this. This is my fault.” Cecil squeezes his eyes shut. “I can't watch him die. Michael, I can't-i can't watch you die. I love you too much to watch this. I can't. I can't.” He puts his hands over his head. Cecil had experienced plenty heartbreak in his long life but nothing like this. It never hurt like this.

“Don't leave.” Carlos says. “He needs you to much.” He isn't sure who he was talking to but is desperate to get his point across.

Michael's vision is mainly all black now. His hearing is muffled. 'He said he loves me...' It takes all the air in Michael's lungs but he's set on trying. His body wasn't able to move his own hand off the ground, so he curled the fingers to only have his pinkie out.

"Promise- pinkie promise that you lov-" Michaels hoarse plea is cut off by more flowers and blood. He cant get enough air to finish.

Cecil stared at the pinkie for a moment, loathing pinkie promises. They seemed to lead to bad things. But he found himself reaching out to seal the promise.

“I promise. For the rest of all time.”

Carlos moves, leaning over and gently pulling the bloody blossom from Michael's mouth. “Promise.”

Michael squeezes his pinkie that's locked with Cecils. Immediately his chest spasms and he wretches more flowers and blood up. Blooming and blossoming purple dahlias, and a single dead and bloody morning glory. Michael's lungs are clear of one of the infecting flowers, and he's gasping for air amongst the purple ones. Where the morning glories were, the dahlias seem to immediately try to fill. The boy is still dying, but he's been given precious air and time.

“Progress.” Carlos says softly. “That's good at least.” He leans down on onto his folded arm so he was eye level with Michael. “Hey.” He says softly. “I want you to know that I am so proud of you for hanging on. No matter what life threw at you.” He pushed aside the flowers that were in front of them and reaches his hand out to brush Michael's hair behind his ear. “You are so….important to so many people. You just don't know it yet.”

Cecil listens to Carlos talk, running his fingers over Carlos’ hair. He looks at Michael and nods mutely. “He's right.”

Michael shakes his head as he wheezes. "Needed t say goodbye..." his body is wracked with another long coughing fit. Only deep maroon dahlias came up, dyed from Michael's blood. No more spare petals were to be seen. Only full blossoms of Carlos's flower. Only Cecil completed the pinkie promise, so only Cecil's flowers have died. Now with the dahlias completely filling his lungs, Michael cant breathe and this time it's because of Carlos. The scientist never finished, and that was the only promise Michael could trust.

“I love you.” Carlos whispers. “I promise.” He reaches out his hand and takes Michael's. “I mean it this time.”

The next fit is full of petals. Progress it would seem. Except it didn't stay for long. Michael is suffocating on the flowers, and Carlos's empty words don't stick. The dying boy closes his eyes as he begins to give up the fight.

He knows Cecil meant his words when he sealed the pinkie promise. Carlos hadn't done that. He tried to seal his words with more words. Empty things that can be filled with lies.

Blood dribbles out the corner of Michael's mouth as another pedal sticks to his bottom lip. His body goes slack. Only a slight rise and fall to show he's not yet dead.

“I'm going to be honest with you. I wasn't at all surprised when Cecil got attached to you rather quickly. I didn't know if it was the best idea, but then I met you and…..i understood. I saw what he got so taken to. You are unlike anyone I've ever met. Now, I've never been any good with kids. At all. But….i don't know. You make me feel…...protective?” Carlos pauses and bites his bottom lip before continuing. “I bet you think this is all empty words, don't you? But...its not. I'm terrible at talking about my feelings, you know this. I meant every word. I do love you and I know that you don't believe me. I would do anything for you to believe me.” His voice grows softer as he speaks.

Michael doesn't open his eyes as his eyelids are too heavy now. Besides his vision was full of spots, so what did it matter? His chest wasn't rising as much anymore, but it fell all the same. Not enough air anymore. No more time left. The "unlovable" boy is dying.

"Pin...kie...pro...mise?" Blood and petals fell out of his mouth as Michael used the last air he had. He couldn't do anything else, so he figured it'd be worth a shot. His chest stills. No more air gets it; the clock is ticking.

“Pinkie promise.” Carlos agrees. He shifts his hold on Michael's hand and wraps his pinkie around the smaller one. It was both a promise and a plea. A plea to stay. A plea to hold on..

Michael's pinkie twitches as it tries to lock the promise. Nothing happens. The boy is near unconsciousness. The kid is almost gone again. Lost forever to join the intern shrine.

But then he feels something shift in his lungs. Michael barely manages to suck in a breath, but it's enough. His grip on Carlos's pinkie tightens, and then he's coughing again.

Blood and a dead purple dahlia blossom.

Carlos finds himself holding his breath, his eyes searching Michael's face. He feels a wave of defeat when the boy's breath shallows. Not yet. Please. He begs whatever gods were listening. Or not listening. He slowly lets his breath out but when  Michael starts to cough again, Carlos gasped softy. He reaches over and picks up the flower, feeling the dead petals under his calloused fingers. He looks back at Michael.

“Michael?”

Michael coughs again, no flowers and only a little blood. He's swallowing air as his lungs burned for more. It takes him a minute before he's able to open his eyes. A weak, lopsided smile.

"Guess you're stuck with me?" Michael didn't think he'd survive that, but seeing Carlos and Cecil is a pleasant surprise. They promised to love him, so he knew they wouldn't leave him.

Cecil lets out a wet laugh of relief and climbs over Carlos to pull Michael carefully into a hug.

“I wouldn't have it any other way.” He pulls back just enough to wipe the fresh blood from his face. The dried blood would have to be washed off.

Carlos pulls himself up off of the floor. “A promise is a promise, is it not?” He smiles a little.

“I'll get someone to clean this up and then you probably need something to drink. I know I did.” Cecil looks around the room and his eyes fell on the discarded binder. He picks it up and hands it to Michael with a sheepish look. “I had to take it off to get you breathing again. I didn't see anything I swear!”

Michael tightens the hug, simply holding the binder in his hand. He definitely felt uncomfortable not having it on, but right now isn't the time to worry about that. He buries his head into Cecil's chest.

"Thank you." Michael's voice is rough from all the strain that his throat had, but somehow it still holds the gentleness it normally does. "I love you both."

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

[pinkstarbeam]

Sweet sixteen never been kissed (reupload)

Katie Holt was just like any other teenager girl, self conscious. Being a sophomore in high school wasn’t easy especially when you were friends with Allura Stardust, the most popular and drop dead gorgeous girl at Voltron High. Looking up at her reflection in her vanity mirror Katie winced at the sight of herself, messy natural wavy hair, freckles, and circular frames definitely weren’t what were desired at the moment. A straightened segment of hair here, a swipe of natural brown eyeshadow there and she had transformed into what society dictated as a pretty high school girl who could have any guy she wanted. “Pidge!” her older brother Matt called her nickname out from outside her door “Come on or you’re walking!” he warned before walking off.

Grabbing her purple backpack and phone she quickly headed out her door and downstairs where she told her parents their daily goodbye and I love you’s before heading out to Matt’s old beat up truck.

“You think you could have an uglier car?” Katie teased as she buckled in.

Matt shrugged “It was cheap and runs good so I have no complaints, a little rust never killed anyone.”.

Rolling her honey colored eyes the fifteen year old watched the scenery as they began their descent to Voltron High, the thought of people seeing her made her double check her appearance in the trucks small visor mirrors, after fixing a few strands of hair and applying a new coat of shimmery chapstick she felt more confident despite Matt’s annoyed sigh from the driver’s seat.

“Why do you do that every time we go somewhere?” Matt asked keeping his eyes on the road.

“Do what?” Katie asked although she knew the answer.

His eyes narrowed as he chanced a quick side glance at her “You know exactly what i’m talking about Katie. Even Allura herself has told you to not try so hard yet everyday you put yourself through the ringer just to appease people.”.

Katie knew Matt was right, she could say she did it for herself, but that would be a lie. The real reason she did it was out of fear of not being accepted for who she really was and that was a nerdy tech genius who wore thick circular frames to see when contacts weren’t in front her eyeballs, a girl who had a horizon of freckles across her nose and wavy hair that looked like a massive hair monster when brushed out, that was the real Katie Holt who would never be seen by anyone who wasn’t her family as far as she was concerned and planned to keep it that way until at least after college.

Looking down at her skirt she sighed “I do it because I want to okay?”.

She could feel Matt roll his eyes, but all that was left in the air was tense silence that couldn’t be cut with even the sharpest of knives. Shifting in her seat she turned towards the window and kept her eyes on the road up until she felt the truck park in it’s usual spot.

Getting out of the truck she quickly hurried away from Matt not wanting to deal with the tension anymore, but on her way into the school she ran smack into the back of someone which sent her tumbling back onto her butt.

She mentally cursed praying nobody had seen what just happened when a tanned hand came into view.

“Hey are you alright?” the voice belonging to the hand asked.

Glancing up her golden eyes met blue ones and she felt her heart skip a beat, the guy in front of her was drop dead handsome and she was fighting the urge for her jaw to just drop at the sight of him.

“Uh miss?” he asked snapping her out of her thoughts.

“S-Sorry!” Katie said as she quickly scrambled up to her feet embarrassed.

She heard him chuckle under his breath “No need to apologize I was blocking the door.”.

‘What the hell even his voice is attractive’ she thought.

“I’m Lance McClain by the way, I just moved here from Florida.” he smiled and Katie felt like she was gonna die if she kept restricting the warmth in her cheeks.

“I’m Katie Holt. You moved all the way across America just to live in Altea, California?” she asked desperate to try and distract herself.

He shrugged “My Papa got a job transfer so we all packed up and moved here.”.

“All?” she asked curiously.

He smiled that amazing smile again “I have two younger brothers and a little sister.”.

Katie’s eyes sparked, she had always wanted a little sibling “Lucky! I just have an older brother.”.

Lance felt his cheeks warm up a bit “Eh they can be a pain sometimes, but I love them.”.

Allura suddenly came into view as she walked out in search for Katie “There you are! Shay and me were worried.”.

Katie mentally cussed herself for making her friends worry “Sorry Allura, I was talking to the  new kid. Lance McClain meet Allura Stardust, the daughter Alfor Stardust, the mayor of Altea.”.

The male smiled and Katie wondered how Allura wasn’t melting “Nice to meet you Allura.” he said with a wink.

Allura rolled her eyes at the wink “You too Lance. Come on Katie.” she said grabbing the shorter females hand and dragging her off.

Katie wondered why she was being dragged off not having seem the male wink “What’s wrong?” she finally asked as they entered the cafeteria.

“That guy is bad news.” the blonde said taking her seat next to Shay.

“Who is bad news?” Shay asked looking at both of her friends.

Shay was one of the most popular girls in school like Allura except rather than her looks and power making her popular it was the sheer fact that she had the confidence of someone made of stone.

“New guy. Winked at me the minute he spoke to me.” Allura said taking a sip of her water.

Katie felt slightly hurt, had he really winked at Allura? Well it was no surprise, compared to Allura, Katie was just another girl trying to impress people. Pulling on her hair she glanced down at the white table top in front of her as self consciousness became her only thought.

“Are you okay Pidge?” a familiar voice asked.

Katie quickly looked up at the sound of her nickname to see Allura’s boyfriend Keith also known as her childhood best friend looking down at her in worry.

“I’m fine just thinking.” she said giving her best attempt at a smile.

He slid in next to Allura and pecked his girlfriend’s cheek before turning to Pidge again “Did you really just try to lie to me?”.

She glared at him “I don’t wanna talk about it.” she mumbled.

“Well you will later.” he warned seeing as he was her ride home while Matt had to stay at school for a debate team meeting.

Rolling her honey eyes Katie reached over and grabbed a piece of toast from Keith’s tray and nibbled on it as she waited for the first bell.

-

A few days had past since Katie’s new encounter and it was now the weekend and boy was she thankful to not have to put on her face today, getting to her feet she finally crawled out of bed around ten in the morning before heading downstairs for breakfast.

“Give it back mullet!” she heard a slightly familiar voice yell.

Katie groaned “it’s too early shut up!” she mumbles as she got to the kitchen and grabbed her a mug from the cabinet.

“Katie it’s ten in the morning.” her brothers boyfriend Shiro said from the living room.

“Fight me.” she said pouring coffee into her mug.

“Wait Katie?” the slightly familiar voice said again.

“You know her Lance?” Matt asked,

Katie felt like a bus of realization suddenly hit her as she was putting down the coffee pot, her flirtatious crush was in her house only mere feet from seeing her all natural. Before she could even try to make her way back to the stairs there stood Lance in the doorway.

“Whoa who are you and what have you done with Katie?” Lance joked.

Katie felt a tinge of annoyance “Your worst nightmare.” she countered too tired to filter what she was saying.

He smiled and his eyes lit up “Aye she has a personality!”.

She fought back a laugh “Oh shut up.” she said as small giggle creeped out after it.

Keith walked in and grabbed Katie’s mug of coffee “Thanks Pidge, black how I like it.”.

“Pidge?” Lance asked looking between the two.

“Her first words was pidgeon so everyone calls her Pidge.” the ebony haired teen said sipping his coffee.

“It fits.” the other male said still smiling.

Katie felt herself melting, but remembered Allura saying Lance was bad news so she stopped herself.

“I’m gonna go back upstairs.” Katie said going to make her way back to her room.

Keith caught her arm “Oh no you’re not, you are staying all natural and are gonna play video games with us or i’m taking your birthday present back.”.

Sighing the sandy haired brunette remembered overhearing Keith talking to Matt about the new telescope he had bought her for her sixteenth birthday

“Fine, but don’t complain when I beat you Kogane.” Katie said poking the ebony haired male’s chest.

Keith chuckled “Quaking in my boots Holt.”.

“Aren’t you dating Allura?” Lance asked as the three walked to the living room.

The other male nodded “Yeah? What about it?”.

“Well you’re pretty friendly with Katie.” the cuban said arching an eyebrow

As soon as the words left Lance’s mouth the other four inhabitants burst into a fit of laughter leaving him utterly confused.

“What did I say?” he asked looking between the four.

“Keith and Katie are childhood friends.” Matt said wiping a tear from his eyes “Shiro and I were best friends before we started dating so our little siblings naturally became best friends from being around each other all the time.”. Lance felt like an idiot as the palm of his hand met his forehead, but oddly enough the news of Keith and Katie not being romantically involved was a relief to him for some reason, one he couldn’t place.

“Are we gonna play or what you nerds?” Katie said picking up one of the four controllers.

-

The day was here, the day every teenager waited eagerly for and that day was Katie’s sixteenth birthday. Seeing as her birthday fell on a Monday this year she went through her usual routine, as she tightened her ponytail she caught her reflection in the corner of her eye and it finally hit her after all these years, why did she care what other people thought of her and especially on this day of all days, this was her day dammit! Grabbing a makeup wipe she look off her ‘face’ then out came the contacts leaving the real her to be the one looking back for the first time in a long time.

“What is-” Matt said as he walked in her room, but stopped at the sight of his sister still in her glasses “Why aren’t you ready?”.

“I am ready.” Katie replied getting to her feet and grabbing her bag as well as her phone.

The male smiled “Welcome back Katie.”

Returning the smile she punched her brother in the shoulder lightly “Come on or we’re gonna be late.”.

Once at the school Katie felt her once strong confidence falter at the sight of people, part of her wanted to beg Matt to take her home, but she knew she needed to do this, granted the makeup wasn’t what made her untrue to herself, but it was what she was using as her shield and now without it she is facing the world head on for the first time in years. Stepping out of the truck she felt like a million eyes were on her though she knew nobody probably even noticed her or cared about her sudden change of appearance.

“Katie?” a familiar voice asked.

Looking over she seen Allura and Shay approaching her, both of them wearing wide smiles.

“I haven’t seen your freckles in forever!” Allura said cupping the shorter females face “I forgot how cute they were!”.

Shay nodded “I forgot how cute you are in your glasses too!”

Katie felt her face heat up as her two friends complimented her “Th-Thanks!”.

Hunk, one of Katie’s friends and Shay’s boyfriend walked over to join them “Whoa! There’s the Katie we grew up with!” he joked.

Keith, Matt, and Shiro soon joined the group to which everyone kept complimenting Katie’s bravery as well as wishing her a happy birthday which was making her redder than the sunburns she usually got each summer.

Lance was the last to join them “Where’s the birthday girl at?” he asked not seeing Katie who was standing (hiding) behind shiro.

“Right here!” Shiro said pushing the sandy haired brunette forward,

Katie mentally cussed out Shiro as he had just thrusted her upon the one person she was most nervous to have see her.

“Happy birthday!” he said as he held out a small box.

Slightly taken back by the lack of comment Katie just stared at the box for a minute before opening it to find an alien pin for her bag, a alien phone charm, and even an alien keychain for her keys.

Lance rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly “Keith told me you liked aliens so I figured you’d like these.”.

“I love them! Thank you!” she smiled as she took out the alien pin and pinned it to her jacket before putting the box in her bag.

He felt a blush creep across his cheeks at the sight of Katie’s smile and looked away trying to hide it, but obviously not successfully when he heard their friend group all give a light laugh while Katie was distracted.

Throughout the day Katie got mainly good responses with the occasional snobs dissing her, but she didn’t care seeing as she was growing more and more confident the more she allowed herself to be in the public eye. Once school was out she made her way towards the parking lot to Keith’s usual parking spot to find he had already left without her which confused and slightly aggravated her until she heard someone call out her name.

“Hey!” Lance said having finally caught up to her “Damn you walk fast for someone so short.” he teased.

“Watch is McClain.” she warned.

He held up in hands in defense “Keith had an emergency and asked me to take you home today.”.

“Emergency?” she asked slightly suspicious.

“Yeah something about a cow getting out of the post? Never thought mullet was a country boy.” the cuban chuckled.

Thinking for a moment Katie remembered something similar happening a year or so ago “Alright well where is your car than?”.

“About that..” Lance said running a hand through his hair as he avoided her gaze before ushering her to follow him.

Following the tall male she found herself at the bike rack as he unlocked a blue mountain bike with pegs on the back causing her to feel like she had traveled back in time to her middle school days.

“You ride a bike to school?” Katie asked as she watched Lance climb onto the bike.

“It’s better for the environment!” Lance countered “Get on and grab my shoulders.”.

Thanking the heavens she had worn jeans today Katie carefully balanced herself on the pegs of Lance’s bike before wrapping her arms around his shoulders tightly before he took off down the sidewalk. As the gained speed Katie felt the wind hit her face and make her hair flow behind her, she let out a burst of laughter as she felt like a kid again, free of responsibilities with no want or need of acceptance.

“Having fun there Pidge?” Lance asked as they made their way to her house.

Katie nuzzled her face into his neck smiling as she took in his scent “Loads.”.

The male felt his cheeks heat up at the feeling of Katie’s nose brushing against his neck, butterflies filling his stomach as he finally realized how he truly felt about the girl who was holding onto him so tightly for the moment, he was in love with Katie Holt,.

Once they were at her house Katie hopped off the bike and gained her balance again before smoothing down a few stray hairs that had found their way out on the bike ride home.

“Wanna come in for some lemonade?” Katie asked walking towards her front door.

Lance smiled “Sure!”.

Katie opened the front door with her keys to find that all the lights inside were turned off which was odd since her Mom’s car had been in the driveway. Reaching over to the light switch she flipped it on.

“Surprise!” rang out a chorus of voices causing Katie to nearly jump out of her skin.

In front of her stood her parents and Matt along with her friend group who were either pulling party poppers or holding a giant sign that read ‘Happy sweet sixteen Katie!’. She felt happy tears well in her eyes as she ran to her parents hugging them tightly.

“Thank you so much!” Katie told her parents as she wiped her eyes.

Her Mom shook her head “This was actually your friend Lance’s idea.”.

Lance chuckled “What can I say i’m a man with a plan.” he said joining the group.

Throughout the next few hours the friend group indulged on birthday cake as well as playing a variation of party games and videogames and giving Katie their presents up until everyone had to start heading home for dinner. Lance was the last to leave seeing as he stayed to clean up feeling that if he didn’t his cuban Mother would never let him hear the end of it, but he also didn’t mind since the party was his idea.

“You know you didn’t have to do this.” Katie said as she slid the leftover cake into the refrigerator

“Of course I did! You were my first friend here in Altea!” Lance exclaimed as he put the newly clean dishes away “That and I wanted to do something nice for my crush.” he said in a lower voice so Katie couldn’t hear.

“What was that?” she asked turning to face him as she raised an eyebrow.

“Oh nothing.” he replied leaning against the counter.

The sandy haired brunette puffed out her cheeks “Tell me!” she whined.

The tall male chuckled “Why so eager to know?”.

“Can’t a girl be nosey?” she smirked.

Lance felt his heart skip a beat, this was so unfair! She was too cute for words to even express, especially when she acted cocky. Clearing his throat he ran a hand through his hair while his mind searched for his next response.

“You know when I first met you I was kinda lovestruck.” Katie laughed as she pulled herself up to sit on the counter “You really are a handsome guy.”.

Lance’s smile turn to smirk “Are you still lovestruck Pidge?”.

A light blush crossed her cheeks “Why so eager to know?”.

He leaned in placing his arms on either side of her “Can’t a guy be nosey?”.

Her breath caught in her throat as their noses brushed together, her light blush now turning into a full on cherry faced one.

“Tell me or i’ll kiss you.” Lance warned.

Katie tried to speak, but the words wouldn’t come out and before she knew it her lips were met by Lance’s in her first kiss. Closing her eyes she slowly let herself give into the kiss as her arms wrapped around his shoulders pulling him in closer, when neither of them could breath anymore they parted to reveal that they were both cherry faced now, but neither of them could stop smiling.

“I think you got you answer.” Katie said pushing a stray hair out of Lance’s eyes.

“Happy birthday Katie.”.