#i wrote this a year ago and found it in my drafts

[gracebriarwoodwrites]

STOP ASKING ME TO BURY MYSELF I KNOW YOU BELIEVE BURYING MYSELF IS IN FACT UNBURYING MYSELF BUT YOU ARE WRONG YOU DON'T KNOW THE SHAPE OF MY GRAVE

[sazwritesstuff]

Truth or Dare | bob x reader drabble

synopsis: a night down at the Hard Deck with the Dagger Squad. Drinking, playing pool, trying to stop Rooster from playing Great Balls of Fire one more time, and Bob feeling shy and staying on the sidelines. Until he’s roped into a drunken game of truth or dare. 

word count: 1025

inspired by this post

use of Y/N, dn reader, nervous Bob, alcohol (brief mention), drinking games

It was a fairly typical night down at the Hard Deck. Drinking, playing pool, Rooster trying to get his hands on the piano but being constantly pulled back down into his seat. 

There were only so many times any of you could listen to Great Balls of Fire.

It didn’t take long before the squad began playing drinking games. You weren’t sure who suggested playing a game of truth or dare. But here you were, sipping on your drink and listening to your squadmates playing a classic from your teen years. 

Most of you had been drinking for a few hours now. Well, expect for Bob. 

The poor spectacled man had been strong armed into playing by Phoenix. He’d been quite happy watching the game of pool between Payback, Bagman, Coyote and Fanboy sipping on his water and munching on his snacks. But he couldn’t say no when you joined in, backing up Phoenix to get him to play with the rest of them. 

Setting down a new round of shots you’d picked up from the bar, quickly passing them around, Rooster cleared his throat and called out “So, Y/N?” from where he stood by the pool table, shot in hand.

“Yeah?” you called back standing between Hangman and Coyote.

“Truth or dare?”

“Dare.”

“Alright, alright.” He paused looking around the group as if for inspiration before whipping his back dramatically towards you. “I dare you to kiss the hottest person here.”

Shrugging, trying to act nonchalant, “Hey Hangman?” you asked, turning to the man beside you. Bob felt his heart drop into his stomach. He hadn’t thought that you’d pick him but it still hurt seeing you chose Jake.

Jake smirked cockliy, “Yeah?”

“Could you move I’m trying to get to Bob?” the smirk dropped instantly from Jake’s face.

“Bob?!” he asked at the same time as Bob choked and spat out the mouthful of water he’d just sipped. “W-What?” he spluttered.

Y/N sighed good-naturedly, patting him on the shoulder, “Now, move out of my way Bagman.”

Jake raised one hand to his chest “You wound me, Y/N! I thought what we had was special.” Stepping aside as he quickly downed the shot in his other hand.

As you stepped closer, Bob gulped nervously and sliding his glasses up his nose to avoid your eyes. 

No way this was real. No way could you think he was the hottest person in the room. This had to be some sort of practical joke… right?

But you were still moving closer to him. One second you were sliding past Hangman and the next you were standing in front of him. “Hi.” You greeted quietly.

“Hi.” Bob breathed, his heart hammering in his chest a mile a minute. Palms sweaty he tried to wipe them on his thighs. Mouth dry, his tongue felt heavy in his mouth. Everything had turned into a blur. Everything except you.

“Is it alright if I kiss you?” you whispered to him, your own heart hammering, your own palms sweaty and your mouth feeling dry. You licked your lips. Bob followed the motion of your tongue and swallowed loudly. Not sure what to say other than “Yeah.” as he nodded, his voice sounding unsteady to his own ears. Without hesitation you swooped in and kissed him softly on the lips. It was short and sweet. Over before it could truly begin. But that didn’t stop it from being met by a chorus of catcalls and cheers.

You quickly sat yourself down on a stool on Bob’s right side. He didn’t take his eyes off you as you sat and downed the shot still clutched in your hands. You wiped your mouth the back of your hand before setting your shot glass down.

“Right,” you stated, slapping your thighs “Javy; truth or dare?”

“Uh, dare.” He answered quickly.

“I dare you-”

“Hold up, hold up.” Jake interrupted “Are we really going to just gloss over Y/N kissing Bob?”

“Well, if you want to know why you’ll just have to wait your turn.” Turning back to Javy you started again.

The game carried on a few more rounds, until Rooster tried to make a break for the piano again. Everyone seemed to have forgotten you and Bob sitting off to the side, the game now seemingly finished.

Despite your earlier burst of confidence, you had no idea what to do now that you and Bob were alone without the others or the game to act as a buffer. 

Bob cleared his throat breaking the silence that had descended over the two of you. 

“So, um, about earlier…”

“I-I know. Just-Just, um, forgot about it.” Feeling nervous and a little bit worried the reason why Bob hadn’t said a single word since you kissed him was because he didn’t feel comfortable about what had happened. You didn’t want to make him feel uncomfortable and were mentally kicking yourself.

“What if I don’t want to forget it?” he asked quietly, turning to look intently into your eyes. “Because I know that if I’d been dared the same thing I would’ve kissed you, Y/N.”

“Oh.” You breathed as your face flushed with heat. Then a light bulb went off in your mind and a devious smile spread on your face. “Well then Bob, truth or dare?”

“Dare.” He answered lightning fast.

“Then I dare you to –” you didn’t even get to finished before his lips were on yours.

Bob’s hands cupping your jaw as his soft lips descended on yours. The kiss started off gentle until you brought your hands up to grab a hold of the fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer to you. Crushing your chest to his. Your mouth opening with a small gasp and you felt his tongue licking lightly at your bottom lip asking for entry. You open your mouth just a little more, letting Bob slip his tongue inside. His hands had moved to wrap around your waist pulling you practically on to his lap.

Moving away reluctantly from Bob, feeling a little lightheaded. You could feel his lips against your as you whispered “So, your place or mine?”

[faeriekit]

One underrepresented genre in Star Wars fics seem to be individual clone-centric narratives, especially in time travel fics, which are my favorites. Not just clone culture- and I LOVE speculative takes on clone culture- but picking your favorite guy in particular, separating him out from the whole of the brotherhood of the clone army and going "okay, what will he do now?"

[coquelicoq]

i NEED to write a poem like i will go certified cuckoo bananas if i do not create some poetry at this very instant.

[marlinspirkhall]

Variables To Falling In Love

Fandom: Star Trek: The Original Series

Rating: General/ Teen and Up

Relationships: James T. Kirk/Spock

Summary: One night, side by side, Spock lists the many variables to falling in love, despite Kirk's attempts to distract him with hand kisses.

[sangfielle]

-

it literally is annoying. though. dont comment some dumb bullshit on my writing if you dont have anything to say. if someone did this to me i would close the comments on my fics im serious

[mxcottonsocks]

I've seen a few reviews of Lady Audley's Secret which say they either didn't enjoy the book because they were able to guess the secret early on, or who say they enjoyed the book despite guessing the secret early (I've been in this latter camp myself in the past).

But lately I've been thinking... I think the reader is supposed to know what "the secret" is.

[SPOILERS for Lady Audley's Secret below the cut.]

I think there's two things to bear in mind about Lady Audley's Secret:

It is a sensation novel, not a mystery novel. It certainly has a lot of elements of the modern mystery and detective genres, and (along with other sensation literature) did influence the development of those genres, but it predates them (in their modern forms at least). Therefore, while I understand why modern readers tend to approach the book with the expectation that it will conform to the standards of the mystery genre, I think we do the book and author a disservice when we do so.

Lady Audley has more than one "secret" throughout the book. I think there are at least three secrets, which I will refer to as: 1. The Initial Secret (bigamy; that Lucy Audley and Helen Talboys are the same person); 2. The Secret of the Cover Up (the conspiracy at Ventnor; pushing George down the well so her secret isn't revealed to Sir Michael); and 3. The Underlying Secret, the one which is referred to as "the secret of my life" and "the secret which is the key to my life" (that she's mad). Depending on your interpretation, there's also potentially another secret still (that she's not mad at all).

The Initial Secret, the bigamy, is the one I think most people are talking about when they say they guessed the secret. And yes, it is obvious. All the clues are fed to the reader within the first three chapters. Robert Audley doesn't enter the book until Chapter 4 and then spends a good chunk of the book investigating this secret (he also guesses the secret relatively early on, I think, and then sets about checking his suspicions).

The Secret of the Cover Up is also fairly obvious (the general gist of it, anyway, if not the details) relatively early. George's disappearance is what sparks Robert's investigation.

The Underlying Secret is perhaps less easy to guess, but not impossible. Robert doesn't guess this one ahead of its revelation, but the reader might.

So, yes, if a reader approaches the book with the expectation that there's one big secret and that it's going to take a lot of mental effort for the characters and reader to figure out, and that their suspicions will be confirmed or denied at the end of the book, they're likely going to be disappointed.

But I don't think that's what Braddon was trying to do.

Most of the dramatic tension of the novel does not come from the reader wondering "what is the secret". That's just one factor. Other factors include:

How information is revealed and concealed, both by characters and by the book itself

The escalation of events, secrets and stakes

The external conflict between the characters, especially the 'battle' between the protagonist and the antagonist (whichever way round you think they are - readers differ)

The internal conflict in the characters, especially Robert (e.g. duty to society vs duty to his family name; duty to his friend vs duty to his uncle)

Big Emotions

Questions of morality (e.g. where do different characters believe that a moral line is crossed, if at all? what do they think is forgivable behaviour? what do they think is justified-in-the-circumstances? what do they think is unforgivable? what do you, the reader, think?)

Lady Audley's Secret (and Sensation novels in general, from my experience so far) seems to be less about the 'destination' (i.e. what the secret is) and more about the journey, the drama and emotions along the way.

So yeah, this is all a very long-winded way of saying: yes, it's easy to figure out what's happened fairly early on in the book, but I think that's intentional on the author's part, and 'having it all figured out' needn't negatively affect our experience of the story if we don't let it.

[tora-the-cat]

So my understanding of space-time and/or lightyears is probably subpar, but as far I understand. If you teleported to one of the planets in one of these galaxies right now, instantly somehow, it would be NOW, not 9 billion light-years ago. But functionally, time travel is....just real? It's like zooming out on the concepts. Side by side, As we live, time and space are obviously distinct things, but. Like if we see them as parallel lines of blue and red, then on a cosmic scale the only measurement big enough to be remotely relative is purple.

It's like....Ok, mph Is miles per hour. So if you traveled 20 hours east, 10 hours will pass for you and you'll move miles at the steady rate you set, but the clock will say something different because you're in a different timezone. That clock doesn't mean YOU didn't travel 10 hours, just that time is squishier then we like to think it is, and time dilation on a big enough scale is. It reaches a point where it's cumbersome and arguably irrelevant exactly what the distance is, so we measure in a unit of time as IF it were a unit of distance. Like if instead of inches/feet/meters/miles etc, we only measures with "inches per second" "feet per second" and the like. It's absurd on as small a scale as that, but space is SO BIG that there's NO other way to measure it. Not because we can't measure distance on it's own, but because we're talking about so big that it doesn't MATTER. So big that we can use a measure of TIME easier than DISTANCE to measure how far away something is.

And like. Sure, we're so small, but THAT doesn't matter either. Because it didn't stop us from touching infinity with pictures like this. It's not GOING to stop us from reaching back closer and closer to THE big bang. 

A lot of these galaxies literally just look like geodes, honestly. Geodes are the size of your hand and look the same as galaxies did when they started forming, and we know this because we took pictures back in time and we did that because the only thing more absurd would be not taking pictures at all, and it sounds crazy but also completely expected. Of course geodes look like 9 billion year old galaxies; they're made of the same stardust. Of COURSE we took pictures of it. How could we not?

Its one thing to look up at the night sky and wonder which stars were already dead and still sending out their last rays of light. It's another to actually sit and think about the fact that stars TIME TRAVEL just to see us, because they love us and we're all made of stardust and we're the universe loving itself. Or whatever. When I told mom I cried over space she thought I was sad I couldn't go and like??? No I'm crying because. Like just look at it.

Maybe in time I'll be more coherent about this right now I'm just euphoric. Like LOOK. The universe isn't dark our camera was just shitty! The world of science is kind of in dissaray because the universe LITERALLY isn't expanding as infinitely as we thought it was! 

On the hubble, there are little pinpricks of light that we NOW can see so crystal clearly. And besides those crystal clear galaxies are- NEW prinpicks of light. And each of those prinpicks Is STILL a galaxy, and there's certainly things our cameras still aren't good enough to see at ALL. 40 years from now, what the FUCK is the new equivalent of this image going to look like. We're literally mapping the atmosphere of a planet a thousand lightyear away.....this is information that we have and that alone is. Near incomprehensible. A thousand LIGHTYEARS.

Some people say that they wouldn't want to be immortal because it would HAVE to get boring eventually but literally you could study space. For ever. Fight one infinity with another idiot

[whyamihereat4am]

Depiction of all Scaramouche's forms but it's drawn like that one reverse bimbofication kink art

Is this anything

[antoine-dcoolette]

anyone else read that fic where Antoine and Bunnie got a divorce and Antoine became an alcoholic?

[zilabee]

A massive long post only I will care about, the best kind of post \o/ A meme about my fic, the wild and windy night.

1: What inspired you to write the fic this way?

It was meant to be a super quick fives times h/c fic to get all my favourite h/c scenarios into one fic, and the first chapters I wrote like that, super short easy sketches, and then I tried to write the last one just the same, but I realised something big needed to happen to make them actually see each other... and so I did a Terrible Thing to Paul.  And I did it without thinking, and then I realised that I didn’t know how to fix it, and having John show up and take care of him was basically useless because he wasn’t going to be okay and it was awful.  But I also couldn’t think how to change it, so I wrote eight longer less easy chapters trying to make him be okay, and then it was set in shape and I let it exist. 

2: What scene did you first put down?

The first one. I write things in their order. I mean I leave hard bits badly written and go back to them, but I write them badly before I go forward because otherwise I genuinely don't know what happens next.  How do you know what they’re going to do until they’ve done it?

3: What’s your favourite line of narration?

They are worn and grubby and beloved of the earth.

I don't know why but I really like it. I'm aware there are much more meaningful bits in my fic, and more poignant, but all the same.

I'm also fond of:

He is sitting on the floor and the floor is imaginary.

4: What’s your favourite line of dialogue?

"You're the one that broke it." "Ah, but it's your window." "Ah, but I haven't got any hands, you see."

I think being able to say that is why Paul needed John, more than any of the other things he needed him for.

5: What part was hardest to write?

The bit that I didn't write, where they talk about Klein and Apple and why it had all hurt so much. I stopped writing the fic for about three months when I got to that scene, because I kept writing myself into a corner where they actually had irreconcilable differences and kind of hated each other. Which was not my hope.

You know in the real world where they said they would have phone calls and it was fine until they would talk about business and then they hated each other? That. It made me doubt the existence of love or the possibility of reunion.

In the end I did get something I vaguely liked, about how it had been the first time they wanted different things, and acknowledging the pain of that on both sides, but I had to cut it out because it bogged them down further than I could deal with. I also think not really addressing it is more realistic than finding the words when they were both drunk and exhausted.

Of what stayed in, the hardest part was the ending (penultimate chapter, not the happy add-on) because I knew Paul wasn’t just going to be completely okay within a few weeks or something, and it’s odd writing fic that isn’t slash because the ending is usually just ‘THEY ARE TOGETHER AND HAPPY NOW’ but in this I just got them as close to committed to each other as I could, and was vaguely honest about the fact that they would probably fuck it all up as soon as we left.

6: What makes this fic special or different from all your other fics?

It’s longer than all my other fic by about 20000 words.

7: Where did the title come from?

I think subconsciously I might have written the entire fic to fit inside a long and winding road, but honestly it was just a lovely surprise when I went looking for a title and realised that Paul wrote me a song! 

8: Did any real people or events inspire any part of it?

Only the real people and events that are in it.

9: Were there any alternate versions of this fic?

Nope. What is this? Do people write ten versions of their fic and then pick the best?

10: Why did you choose this pairing for this particular story?

Because they were in it.

11: What do you like best about this fic?

I like the rhythm of it, and the stillness. I like that it’s finished and whole.  I really like that after George tells Paul the thing about how John is going to fall apart, they NEVER SPEAK AGAIN and Paul doesn’t even really explicitly think about George again.  I kept thinking I should fix that but it’s honestly one of my favourite bits, and closure would ruin it.  The way that Paul's messed up relationship with George isn't even something he thinks of as needing fixing, is so special to me.

12: What do you like least about this fic?

It’s odd because if you’d asked me at the time, I would have had a huge list of things I flat out hated about this fic.  HATED.  I can’t overstate how much I hated the entire thing when I was posting it, like I would post new chapters to tumblr and write huge essays in the tags about how awful it was and how much I hated it and how nobody should look at it - and then I’d delete them all before posting, because I know that’s annoying, and it never sounds sincere, it sounds like you’re begging for reassurance.  And I didn’t want reassurance.  I honestly just wanted to post my fic without anyone looking at it.  Although at the same time I genuinely really appreciated the comments because I could feel like even though it was an awful dreadful thing, people couldn’t tell.  So it was okay.

I think I’d read it and edited it so many times that I was pretty sure it didn’t mean anything at all any more, it had no emotion in it, and I’d cut out any of it that ever made any sense, it all seemed forced and stupid and bare and I couldn’t stand looking at it. I literally posted it because I knew that if I didn’t I would edit it forever, and I never wanted to look at it again.  I clearly remember thinking to myself: ‘well it’s never going to be good, you should just post it and then at least it’ll be dead’. 

But now I read it back and I really love it, I’m kind of proud of it, I think it’s quite sweet.  I guess... there are still small parts where I think the rhythm’s wrong, and I got stuck in John's headspace for a huge chunk towards the end and couldn't find a way around that which still annoys me.  But not enough to care or fix it.

13: What music did you listen to, if any, to get in the mood for writing this story? Or if you didn’t listen to anything, what do you think readers should listen to to accompany us while reading?

"Bill Haley's whole back catalogue is running through John now"

I don't really listen to music when writing usually, but with this Two Hound Dogs was in my head from the moment they got drunk and it was late and cold and there was this whole feeling of so much weather outside that it almost feels like weather inside, and Bill Haley's music was running through all of it, so I left him in it, because he seemed to want to be there. And I listened to Two Hound Dogs every time I touched it.  It's music from the years when John found Paul, so it fits that way - I'm aware John was not fond of Bill Haley, but I kind of liked that. And I didn't know at the time, but there's also that thing where Paul says he went to see Bill Haley once, and people read it as saying he met John there, so that makes it more nicely meaningful and less random.

14: What happens after the end of this fic?

I think John needs countryside as much as Paul does, so I think he settles into being a part of their life pretty well, and then when it’s too quiet spends weekends with the others or down in London, and eventually he probably comes back from one of those trips with his new fancy posh gallery owner boyfriend in tow, and introduces him at dinner and both John and Linda get to watch Paul navigate John having a boyfriend \o/  Happy days.  And then... I think they’re just sort of happy enough.  Paul would learn to make music using one finger, like overdubbing little bits of piano with each other, and creating acapella albums, and generally finding new ways to do whatever occurred to him.  And then electronic stuff would come in and he’d be all over that. 

15: Is there anything you wanted readers to learn from reading this fic?

No. Was my big angstfest of platonic soulmate reunion supposed to be secretly educational?

16: What did you learn from writing this fic?

That I should finish editing a fic before I start posting it. And that people who comment on chapter by chapter fic are just insanely kind, like wow.

[lazy-queen-irl]

Broke: Queen Padme Amidala of Naboo

Woke: Queen Amanda Amidala of Naaboo

[lollipopsie]

the unfortunate sticking point of too much discourse is finding people attractive. you're allowed to not find someone attractive because they have a penis or because they're fat or because they're too masculine or too feminine. it's fine. very few people are actually arguing against that. the important caveat being that you have to treat people that you don't find attractive with the same kindness and respect that you treat people that you do find attractive with. i don't know why this is such a difficult concept to grasp. you don't have to think fat people are hot to acknowledge their humanity. you don't have to think a trans lesbian is attractive to respect her and her identity. you don't have to be attracted to penises to acknowledge that women that have them are still women. terfs LOVE genital preference discourse because it shifts the conversation to "are lesbians required to find every trans woman attractive?" and allows the answer being "no" to mean they've won the discourse.

[thewickling]

Winding Moonrise - Complicated Reunions

[master post]

[continues from part 11. Let's just pretend it hasn't been over 3 years since I posted a ficlet in this series. Warning this has a flashback inside of a flashback ]

Wei Wuxian says, "Time to head home."

"May we speak in private?" Lan Wangji asks, catching Wei Wuxian's wrist. He casts a silent warning toward Lan Jingyi who in turn mimes covering his ears.

Wei Wuxian nods.

The two walk into the cavern opening.

"Why are you reluctant?" he questions.

He holds no rights to Wei Wuxian's confidence, but he must ask. He can't imagine why Wei Wuxian says the last word as if it has no place on his tongue, as if the word holds no association with him, as if he is alone. His heart aches. All he wants is to take Wei Wuxian in his arms and shelter him in an embrace.

Wei Wuxian smiles, awkwardly.

"Certainly the Jiangs would celebrate your return," he adds, stomping down on the urge to pamper Wei Wuxian.

A decade has passed, certainly he must miss his residence. Wei Wuxian spoke so fondly of Yunmeng that Lan Wangji wanted to spirit him there last night.

Wei Wuxian's smiles more broadly. Jiang Cheng's accusing voice rings in his ears alongside the pleas of the dead from memory that refuses to fade.

"Let's go!" Jiang Cheng shouted.

The wards around them screamed. Danger marched in front of them. In the distance is a howl of wolves.

Wei Wuxian stilled and glanced toward the cavern behind him.

"We won't get to them in time." He frowned, but when did Jiang Cheng not have a scowl.

He jested, "When did you become a coward? I'll go alone."

He means it.

Jiang Cheng's jaw ticked. "You have a death wish. They're Wens."

"They sheltered us."

He bobbed his head as if conflicted, but eventually he nodded.

Pulling his thoughts to the present, Wei Wuxian says, "In-house problems."

"Oh."

He smacks Lan Wangji's chest. "Don't worry, every household has them."

Lan Wangji has certainly had his share of those, pleading with his shufu every day for three years. Yet never once would he have believed that his shufu would be glad for his absence. His view of Jiang Cheng and Jiang Yanli drops several degrees.

His heart aches at Wei Wuxian’s trepidation and it nearly breaks at the line he’s drawn between them. ‘Family matters’ is a boundary that can only be crossed by a select few to do so, when their relationship can only be described as former classmates and friends, is overstepping. It had never been his place to pry; although he had dreamed of one day being Wei Wuxian’s closest confidant and sharing all the joys and pains of life with him, at the moment it will be difficult to even claim that they are more than just acquaintances after thirteen years of separation.

His personal opinion of the current Jiang family head aside, at the very least, he can take solace in the fact that in this upcoming reunion he will be by Wei Wuxian side.

*

If he had been struck with lightning from clear skies, Jiang Cheng would be less surprised than he is currently spying his former sworn brother standing beside Lan Wangji.

“Long time no see,” he says as if they had separated under anything remotely approaching normal conditions.

A tornado of emotions strikes him. It’s like he’s back in that hospital bed surrounded by incessantly beeping machines. His da-jie held onto him as if she’s afraid he’d be spirited away. Day and night half a dozen people came and asked him questions he couldn't answer.

He’s no fool. He certainly cannot explain that he’s been decimating six generations of the Wen clan the last few years for burning down all his relatives except for his sister. That bloodsucking fiancee of hers had been good for one thing apparently.

The one that infuriates him the most is about the person missing from his side. Although days have passed, he can still feel where his supposedly loyal servant struck. It wasn’t that he was heartless. It was one thing to turn over every stone and blade of grass to avenge his family, it was another to face-off against the clandestine world for the remnants of a family that had destroyed everyone he cared about when he couldn’t imagine any reasonable chance of them succeeding. He must survive as the final heir of his family.

He clenched his fists. He can’t even ask the idiot if it was worth it. Did you enjoy playing the hero? You’re just bone and ash! Look at all these rumors, all people will ever know is these rumors that you’re a madman.

Seeing the man that haunts his nightmares waving so nonchalantly at him, Jiang Cheng can’t help it. The emotions overwhelm him and taking control of his tongue brings him to growl: “So you didn’t die in a gutter.”

Wei Wuxian scratches his cheek. What can he say?

Jiang Cheng has every reason to resent him. It’s funny he thinks in hindsight that the one time that he did something Madam Yu would be proud of is also the first time he betrayed his closest friend. It’s not like there was a point to him telling Jiang Cheng that he had already used his life-saving time to send A-Yuan far away and it wasn’t as if he was going to ask Jiang Cheng to court death with him.

There was no reason to say that he had died. He still recalls the endless, inky black of the other side, and that alluring voice asking if he wanted to take vengeance on the world.

Before this touching reunion can continue, if one could call this a reunion, Lan Wangji steps between these sworn brothers. The blase tone in which Jiang Cheng delivered those callous words drives Lan Wangji to see red. How could someone speak of a friend like that? How dare someone speak of his precious moon’s like he was hindrance?

He growls: “Apologize.”

“Who are you to demand that?”

“His friend,” he says, but he really wants to challenge Jiang Cheng to a duel to protect his beloved’s honor.

Jiang Cheng’s gaze flickers between them, and he scoffs.

“My advice is to pick better friends.”

“There is no one more worthy of attention,” Lan Wangji says, glaring. He has cultivated too well for such provocation to raise his hackles and summon his fangs. It is Jiang Cheng’s blessing that he’s too respectable to maul someone.

Those words shock Wei Wuxian more than the fact that Jiang Cheng and Lan Wangji are now exchanging blows. He hadn’t expected a warm welcome after what he had done. Jiang Cheng has too much pride for that — that he hadn’t chased Wei Wuxian was a sign that he was malleable. This is the rudest he’s ever seen Lan Wangji. What had Jiang Cheng done in the last decade for Lan Wangji to be so bold?

In all of Wei Wuxian’s wildest imaginations, he could not even begin to think that the source was him. That was not the first time that Lan Wangji had blatantly shown his distaste.

It was breaking into his fourth year in a world absent from his moon, not long after the three year period had spent howling at the moon with only his melancholy for company. Since he was the type to count it was exactly 4 years and 2 months and 28 days from Wei Wuxian’s disappearance when news of the missing Jiang heir’s re-appearance had spread like wildfire through society, so that someone who had secluded themselves as Lan Wangji still heard it.

Although it was unbecoming of him, he used his connections to determine which hospital, which room, and tracked down Jiang Cheng’s location. If there was any chance he could recover his heart, he would turn over any stone and drag his own name through the dirt.

Not that he needed to go so far, an inquiry from such a renown family brought the information to him easily enough. All he had to do was ask and he found himself outside of a private room.

There was a hollow ache in his chest as he scanned the ward, only to find Jiang Cheng staring back incredulously. Of course the heir of an illustrious family did not share a room. In his rush, he asked: “Where is Wei—”

“How should I know?” Jiang Cheng said. “Whether I know or not, why is it any of your business?”

“He is my friend,” he said, but really wanted to shout because ‘my heart has left my chest and is wandering out of sight’.

Jiang Cheng hissed, “Well, I’d be surprised if he wasn’t just ash now.”

At the same time his heart sank, his blood boiled at the off-the-cuff remark. Logically, he’s aware that people handle death in different ways but anyone deserved better than for their death to be spoken about like that. It wasn’t as if Wei Wuxian was a stray that the Jiang family had picked up that had finally wandered off.

He can be forgiven for growling: “He deserved better than you.”

“What do you know!”

Before their disagreement could come to a boil, the blaring cacophony of machinery called over nurses, who chased Lan Wangji out for upsetting a patient.

To this day, Lan Wangji cannot bring himself to regret antagonizing a patient. After all, his moon deserves the sky and the stars when it seems that all he ever received from others seemed to not even reach the horizon.

If he was capable of reading Wei Wuxian’s mind now, he wouldn’t say this but it had always been Wei Wuxian for him. It has always been true that he never liked Jiang Cheng and that Lan Wangji’s dislike for Jiang Cheng had always sprouted from the fact that that place beside Wei Wuxian had naturally belonged to someone other than him. Despite all of his training, Lan Wangji was merely a wolf yearning for his moon, so he cannot be blamed for finding fault with Jiang Cheng now.

[sindoom]

far from santa monica

i have become all that i hate. what is love without like? what is dishing it when you cant heed it? a fucking nightmare, thats what that is. a shell of a well oiled machine, pieces and parts clanking on the ground. a sound so grating you pluck your eyes from their fixed position and tuck your ears in deep to the drum. a fucking nightmare. would it make a difference? to do it all again?

[estrellami-1]

Ten Minutes

Didn’t love this when I first wrote it. Left it in my drafts for a LONG freakin’ time. Found it again and no longer care, so here yall go; have fun! Probably not a part 2 to this one.

Steve takes a breath, then another, as he waits for the line to connect. He grits his teeth, feeling eyes on him. He does his best to ignore them.

“Munson residence, if you’re calling about the murders I’ve been absolved of, try going to hell instead.”

“I need you to pick me up.”

A pause. “Stevie?”

Steve takes another breath. Tries to unclench his jaw. “Please.”

“Yeah, of course, I’ll be right there- what-”

“My parents are in town.”

Another pause. “I’ll be there in ten. Try not to kill them.”

Steve laughs humorlessly. “Just hurry.”

“Ten minutes,” Eddie says, and hangs up.

Steve sighs, places the phone in its socket, and turns back to face his parents.

His mother is narrowing her eyes at him. “Who was that?”

“A friend,” he says lightly.

“Who, that Hagan boy?” His father scoffs.

“No. Not Tommy. I haven’t spoken to him in years.”

“Oh, Steve,” his mother tuts. “Always so dramatic. We’ve not even been gone a year-”

Steve laughs. It sounds hollow. “Try four years,” he informs her. “And three concussions. Did you hear about the mall two years ago? Or the boy who went missing four years ago?” He shakes his head when his mother looks at him blankly. “That’s what I thought.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” his father snaps. “And don’t you dare speak to your mother in that tone again, Steven. You’re still a child and I won’t hesitate to reprimand you as such.”

“I’m twenty,” Steve says evenly. “I’ll be twenty-one in five months.” He crosses his arms. “The last time you saw me, I was a freshman in high school. I’ve graduated. I found jobs. Lost some friends and made some better ones.”

“And what of that girl you were dancing around?” His mother asks. “Karen’s daughter?”

“We’re friends,” he says shortly, then moves through the kitchen, to the stairs. “Excuse me.”

“No,” his father says. “You’re not excused. Where do you think you’re going?”

Steve turns, one hand on the bannister, to look at the man who had terrified him the last time he’d seen him. It’s funny what interdimensional threats will do. “To pack a bag. I’m not going to stay here while you are.”

“And if I were to say we’re staying for good?”

Steve laughs. “Dad, you’ve said that before. Multiple times, actually. Those words mean nothing to me anymore.”

“And where are you planning on staying?” His mother asks. “Honestly, Steven, I thought we raised you to make better decisions than this.”

“Oh, I see. So it was raising me when I woke up at nine years old to discover you’d left and I’d have to find my own way to school. Then a week later when I had to ride my bike to the store to buy groceries. At eleven, when I looked the school counselor in the eye and said you’d be back soon. I had to go to my own parent-teacher conferences. At fifteen, trying to figure out high school classes. At seventeen when I got my first concussion. At eighteen when I signed my first legally-binding NDA. You hadn’t abandoned me. You were raising me.” He sighs, shakes his head. “Forgive me if I don’t believe you.”

He makes his way up to his room and packs as much as he can. Clothes. Vinyls. The box of cash under the loose floorboard. Then into the bathroom. Toothbrush, deodorant, even his shampoo. Doubles back into his room to grab a bracelet off his nightstand; one El made him.

He looks around, grabs the nail bat, and makes his way downstairs. His mother gasps when she sees him. “What on earth is that?”

He looks at the bat. Adjusts his grip, twirls it around. “An NDA.”

The doorbell rings. Steve grabs his bags and moves towards it. “If you walk out that door, you’ll never walk back in.”

“Fine by me,” Steve says. He grabs his keys, tosses the house key at his father, and pockets the rest.

He opens the door and grins at Eddie, who’s looking at him worriedly. “Hey, Eds. Ready to go?”

Eddie blinks. “Um. Sure? Are you okay?”

“Sure,” Steve shrugs. “I’m getting kicked out. If you don’t want to take me I’ll just go bug Robin. It’ll only be for a little while, though, just until I find a better job and an apartment or something.”

“Like hell Wayne’s gonna miss this chance,” Eddie grins. “You know you’re his favorite.”

Steve smiles back, tosses his things into the back of Eddie’s van. “I hoped you were gonna say that.”

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