#yall gimme feedback please

[gyuslcve]

10:48pm

genre: fluff, domestic bc i’m a sucker for that

rq: not a request

word count:

reblogs, comments and feedback are appreciated !

notes: I AM SO SO SORRY FOR GOING AWOL YALL. been caught up with school but i finally have some time off now. this was kind of (pretty much) self indulgent but enjoy :)

taglist (dm me to join!) : @icyminghao @haowrld @etherealyoungk

vernon can’t cook. if there’s anything you need to know about him, he can’t cook. despite this, you find yourself waking up to a familiar scent flowing through the house.

wincing slightly at the headache, you removed the blanket- wait, blanket? oh, pillows too. didn’t you fall asleep on the couch? confused, you get up from the bed and padded to the living room, only to see vernon wearing an apron that was visibly too small for him, cooking at the countertop of the kitchen.

smiling, you walk up behind him and wrapped your arms around him. he jumps a little. oops.

“baby?”

“hey nonie.”

your boyfriend chuckles lightly at the nickname, lowering the heat and turns around to face you. “i told you not to call me that.” he says jokingly, eyes softening as he takes in the tiredness written all over you. vernon tucks a piece of hair behind your ear, and as if it was done instinctively, places a soft kiss on your temple, then your forehead.

“what are you doing? you can’t even cook ramyeon.” you say, peering behind him, trying to find out what he was making. it looked exactly like what your mother cooked for you whenever you fell ill. how-

“you said you left work early ‘cause you felt sick. i remember you told me about this beef soup your mother makes for you, so i called her and asked her for the recipe.” vernon shrugs, like he wasn’t the same person that was shaking when he first met your mother.

oh god. you’re gonna marry this man. you’ve decided.

“oh.. thank you.” he hums, turning around and stirs a bit more. “i’m almost done, gimme a minute and i’ll pour you a bowl ‘kay? rest for now, please.” vernon briefly turns his head around and presses another kiss on your forehead, smiling at you.

as you find your seat on the couch, you watch your boyfriend who has a wooden spatula in his hand, stirring every once in a while. you really thought you would never ever see him cook in this lifetime but - not anymore.

“vernon, you really cooked that up?” you say in awe, slowly taking in the fact that he was in the kitchen and somehow did not make any mess, and even something edible. vernon laughs, “yes, i did.” you squint at him questioningly.

“okay, fine, fine. your mother did assist me through the phone.”

author’s notes: work’s been keeping me busy but i really needed to write this bc this has been in my mind for a bit too long <3

[grabattheseballsss]

Random fic wanted to post

Synopsis: gojo’s been hopelessly in love with you the day he met you, but you’re hopelessly in love with the blond that barely every paid attention to you

Pairing: Gojo x reader (unrequited) Nanami x reader (unrequited)

Warnings: angst???? I think??? Unrequited love, these butches are HOPELESS, reader is like, naturally touchy and gentle? Girl id be in love too if someone was this nice to me, Shoko and Geto are tired of yall, super mild and lackluster fic, but I wanted to post it anyways

A/N: never wrote angst before :P I wanna start doing some now hehe, feedback’s always welcome!

“And this, is Nanami Kento! He may be emo but we still love him” gojo chuckled as he introduced you to his friend group, you smiled sheepishly and waved to everyone, but your eyes couldn’t trail off of the blond who only gave you a polite nod and went back to his book.

You were the new girl, a foreigner, a shy pretty girl who was too scared to make any friends, that is until a white haired boy came up to you on lunchtime at the cafeteria, you only smiled awkwardly as you made your way to the only empty table available, all the way back, you were about to eat your food before you heard someone call your name

“Heyyy~ new girl! What’s up! I’m Gojo Satoru, but I’m sure you already know that” he chuckled as he hyped himself up jokingly, you laughed a little and introduced yourself to him

“What’re you doing all by yourself ? Come with me, come I’ll introduce you to my friends! You’ll love them, not as much as me though, promise ?” He winked at you and put the lid of your lunchbox back on and went to grab your hand before you stopped in place “please please, just gimme a minute, I got soup in my lunch box you didn’t close it properly” you grumbled and close the container and put it neatly back in your bag.

Gojo didn’t think you’d want to hold his hand after that, which made him put his arms down by his sides, but to his surprise you held his hand gently and smiled gently at him “lead the way!” You didn’t think twice of that moment but that was when Saturo started developing feelings for you, you were too focused on your bag to notice the blush that settled on his face.

Time forward to now, it’s been almost three months since Gojo introduced you to him and his friends, it’s been three months since you met that blond who you’ve been writing in your journal about, three months of you and Shoko’s endless sleepovers, three months of Geto and Gojo’s bickering which is often induced by Shoko and defused by you.

You smiled slightly as you watched the two continue to throw petty insults at each other, Shoko only laughing and Nanami sat there with a slight smirk as he shook his head, his lips were so pretty, his skin so effortlessly clear, his hair’s so soft and neat despite his stupid haircut, his deep brown eyes that turn to look at you, the way he said your name, how smooth it sounded on his lips

“Are you okay?” Kento asked, staring at you with a raised brow, your eyes widen as a heat started spreading on your face, you straightened your posture and nodded “yeah, y-yeah I’m sorry, just lost in thought” you replied and looked away

Shoko started whispering in your ear when Nanami turned around “I know what those thoughts are, perv~” she chuckled as you smacked her shoulder to stop, the embarrassing encounter left Gojo silent, ignoring Geto’s remarks as he watched you blush the same way he does when you look at him with those half lidded eyes as you take care of his wounds, or when you buy him a treat because you remembered he liked it, all of these sweet moments.

If only he knew what he lacked, he was born into wealth, he was extraordinary, the strongest, a damn model in his free time, he could give you the world and more, if you’d just turn your gaze to his pretty face instead.

———

“Happy birthday, dear sa-toooo-ruuuu” you all sang as you watched the white haired man blow out his candles, clapping as he took off the candles, number two and one put to the side as he started cutting the pink strawberry vanilla cake.

Everyone got handed a plate with a piece of cake, you and Shoko sat on the small couch, chatting and eating “you know… he’s not going to know that you’ve been pining after him if you avoid him at all costs” Shoko mumbled as she stole a strawberry off of your plate, you hummed as you looked up to see Kento chatting up with a random girl that was invited to the party by Saturo.

You didn’t want to bum anyone up, that felt so selfish and rude of you, so you excused yourself, then went back to Shoko to give her the rest of your cake and walking back out.

You walked to Saturo who was sitting by Geto, they seemed to be chuckling about some random inside joke, you grabbed your gift bag and walked to them.

“Birthday boyyy~” you called out, your voice now sounded so much different than all those years ago, you sounded more mature and sure of yourself, saturo looked up at you with a huge smile, Geto only smiled and waved at you.

You stood in front of gojo and handed him a pink and blue bag with a letter taped to it “I’m sorry I didn’t have time to pick out a proper gift” you chuckled a little before grabbing a chair and sitting down.

“I didn’t think you’d even make it” Geto said as he grabbed his glass

“Well, if she couldn’t make it, I was going to drag her by the leg” saturo joked, but you all knew he wasn’t.

As saturo unpacked the gift inside the bag, he seemed like a kid on Christmas Day, you smiled softly as he held the box with sudden care, he looked up at you so fast his glasses slid down his nose, which made you and Geto chuckle “WHAT!” Saturo screamed, making everyone stare at you both, his long arms scooped you up and pulled you into a tight hug.

Getting a gift for someone like Gojo would seem absolutely impossible, he was rich and had anything he could ever ask for, but not the pictures he had lost couple of years ago, the one of you, him and baby megumi in your living room, dressed up as random characters, from megumi as shrek, you as Fiona and of course Gojo as donkey, the one of you and Gojo sitting on the ground as megumi has a sign on the couch that says “losers not allowed on”, and of course, satoru’s favourite, the one of you and megumi in the kitchen making cookies, megumi eating cookie dough as you were covered in flour and scolding him, unaware of the camera.

He lost the card that had those photos years ago, and you found it earlier this year and decided to keep it a surprise for him.

You hugged him tightly and kissed his cheek “seriously, happy birthday, turo… thank you, for being my friend” you smiled as you cupped his blushing cheek “now go taught gumi with them, I know you’re itching to do so” you giggled as you patted his shoulder and walked back to where Shoko was sitting.

You both missed the way Shoko and Geto looked at each other with a sad knowing look before turning back and continuing their separate conversations.

[chimbbles]

Up!au (ft. yoonkook)

A/N: I finally watched Up and at 10am in the morning, I’m a sobbing soft bitch in the study room. I hope you like this <3

T/W: character death

  ↬ angst

yoongi’s well, yoongi. he’s often quiet, even after he’s well grown out of his puberty age. the others don’t think much of him, don’t see him even. and he’s very much alright with that I mean, he doesn’t mind not being the center of attention. but it was different when he met his partner, back then, he definitely didn’t foresee them being together, let alone married.

they were the opposite of him- loud, but never obnoxious; colourful, but not a blinding rainbow; kind and witty, always had him searching for words. a true happy-go-lucky, something he couldn’t comprehend, but truly adored from the bottom of his heart. he cherished them more than anything.

he remembers how they met at a musical theatre, a performance he’s saved up for years; how he was barely an adult and so were they; how he had gotten so worked up over the sheer disrespect of them talking excitedly and even bouncing in their seat. how he had told them to pipe down and to let others enjoy the show, and they responded to his outburst: a nervous laugh, apologizing and promising to never do it again, even talking to yoongi during the intermission.

he never would have thought they could make it till today, and all he has is the world to thank for. for blessing him with the most prized possession he could’ve asked for, an eternal bond with the very person who held his heart, a young man’s love fulfilled with the aging of time.

time and time again they’ve tried to save up for that trip to europe, to watch the grand orchestras perform the greatest tunes of all time, only to have their dreams crushed each and every time.

the once kind and considerate time turned cruel and unforgiving, soon, yoongi was left alone, all by himself. in a house built of memories, good and bad times. the wooden floorboards that held the creaks that once joined in on their daily conversation, the run down walls that heard all the silent weeps and the joyous laughs.

he was trapped in a house full of things he once had, things that took a lifetime to built, but only months to rob away. time was kind enough to have given him so much to live for, but cruel of it to have not given him a proper preparation. 

yoongi had quickly gotten over living alone, what else was an old, lonely man expected to do? he kept to himself only, rarely socializing with any newcomers that weren’t there to witness his best of times. he took up the stereotype of the neighborhood’s grumpy old man rather pliantly, it just seemed to make things easier.

in comes jungkook, knocking on his door one day when he was playing his shabby old piano by the window, notes going off-key and rather unpleasing to the ears. he shoos him off, like any grumpy old man would do. that old thing? he had nothing to do so he started playing it, or, what was allowed of his slowly degenerating joints.

jungkook’s persistent, determined to get his teeny little 5 year old fingers on that ‘slum’ of a piano. so yoongi ends up with no choice but to let this whiny kid in, but only for 5 minutes, touch and go.

the kid’s eager, fingers jammed up on the keys once he’s seated on the bench. he plays whatever’s displayed, and it turns out to be a self-written music sheet, with yellow edges and smudged writing, titled: stuff we did.

yoongi lets the brat play all he wants, he can care less. he’s sipping on his afternoon coffee when he hears it, the old tune he’s omitted for the longest of time. 

it wasn’t something meant to be played out in the open, it was like his version of a love letter, something he gifted his partner years ago, and continuously added new sections after each episode in their lives. it was something special only the two of them had understood, and having it played to him, forced a bittersweet reminiscence of what once was.

yoongi’s crying right there in the living room, scaring the poor fella who really just wanted to play some piano.

he ends up taking in the kid as a student, teaching him how to properly play a piano. of course, he fixes the damn broken keys first. after piano lessons came composing and producing, yoongi taught the kid everything he knew back from his young aspiring days.

long after that time, jungkook climbs up the red carpet at the award show. stepping on stage to accept yet another token of achievement, this time for his own rendition of what once was, titled what still is. thanking yoongi as the first ever music teacher he had, and for showing him one of the most magnificent ways to embed love into the world through everlasting music.

and that yoongi won’t yell at him for bringing the beautiful song to light, and wishes he spends his time well, up in the skies with his partner.

masterlist   ask

[the-innefable-idiot]

welcome home

Hello yall!!!

This is my 3k fic based on the fic "another part of me could be you" by @spaceskam. I honestly don't know how to classify this, but you can consider a homage (?) to her work.

This pretty much a fanfic of a fanfic... yeah. I know.

Every feedback is welcome, both for plot/characterization and grammar/ponctuation. English is not my first language, so I usually right phrases that only make perfect sense to me. I want your reading to be as enjoyable as possible! :D

Please, enjoy!

Also on AO3.

-

Oh, I hope someday I'll make it out of here

Even if it takes all night or a hundred years

Need a place to hide, but I can't find one near

Wanna feel alive, outside I can fight my fear

(Lovely, Billie Eilish feat. Khalid)

Michael almost looses Alex for the second time, and now je realises it's time for him to get his act together. He just wasn't expecting all the love and support he got.

- 

Home is a concept that Michael never quite understood. Sure, he lived in many houses, but the goodbyes were never emotional. He knows that home is not the structure, but the feelings attached to some place, something or someone. Whenever he thought of home, blurred memories from outer space came to mind. The feeling of belonging was strong, even if he couldn’t attach an image to it. 

Michael used to spend hours fantasizing on how to turn a house into a home. A collection of mugs nicely displayed in the dining room. Vinyls and cds on one shelf and books on another, with a nice record player nearby. Some musical instruments considered weird by western standards. The walls covered with pictures of people and places he loved alongside posters of movies and bands he enjoyed. Had he grown up in a nice home, he would probably have been those kids with a camera in hand at all times, capturing moments around him.

Once he knew he was so, but so close to understand the meaning of home. He was thinking about buying a camera literally moments before his hand was shattered by a psychopath. Since then he swore to never raise his hopes. The day drinking and the bar fighting were the ways he made sure to never expect anything from anyone. Alex symbolized everything he wanted to have, but couldn’t, so he was determined to go for a simpler route. 

With Maria things were nice. A little bit more complicated than he expected, but still nice. Sure, she wouldn't be moving to the airstream anytime soon, but the relationship was nice. Her place has a few of his things: a toothbrush, a few pieces of clothing neatly folded in one corner of a drawer, a few bottles of beer and whiskey, a handful of books and even some mechanical tools he forgot to take back to his place. Michael never enjoyed making Maria to spend the night at the airstream, first because the overall place was tiny and uncomfortable, and second because her house had the whole atmosphere he dreamt about.

It was clear the effort they were putting into the relationship. Maybe a bit too much of an effort, some might say. As the time passed, everyone close to them noticed how the smiles between them stopped reaching their eyes. Michael would never admit it, but Alex being kidnapped only sped up the inevitable.

Michael knew something bad happened before Forrest came to him in the middle of a panic attack. He had this prickling feeling on his neck that something was just not right since he opened his eyes that morning. Now he was gripping the steering wheel of his truck and focusing on not letting his powers break something. The adrenalin rush being the only thing keeping him from having a mental breakdown. Actually, filling in Forrest with the whole alien thing was a great distraction because of the many details and intricate history he had to cover. Maybe Forrest noticed it and kept asking questions to ground Michael to the task at hand. Maybe Michael will find a way to subtly thank him later for that. Just maybe.

After finding a path of bodies that lead to a bleeding Alex on the floor, Michael felt like breathing for the first time that day. The relief was short, however, and the moment he saw the deadly wound (gun? Knife? Oh God it was bad) he knew what he should do. Forrest was holding an unconscious Alex on his arms. Somehow he managed to tear apart the bloodied shirt to ease the access to the wound (thanks Forrest, again). Michael's healing powers were shit, and he knew he wouldn't be able to heal Alex completely, but damn him if he weren't going to die trying.

The last thing he clearly remembers is the glow on his hands. He has flashes of walking to the car and drinking acetone. He was 75% sure he didn't hallucinate Kyle being there to check up on Alex. Did Alex really ask to sleep by his side? Was Forrest still there? Who knew? Definitely not him.

The next day Michael woke up at noon, still not sure if he was indeed in bed with those two guys or if it was just his brain revenging him after almost melting it the night before. Alex was still too drugged up for Michael to feel anything concrete from the handprint, but only the fact everyone was breathing was enough to calm him down.

This moment of silence between the three of them only gave Michael the reassurance to set things right with Maria. He couldn't keep marinating her in a below-average relationship just so he could prove a point. Maria deserved more than he could give her.

-------

The break-up was... complex. He could see jealousy and suspicion in her body language, and nothing Michael said changed that. Deep down she always new the possibility of Michael going back to Alex, but she was willing to try anyway. She was making an effort not to be too angry, after all she knew her friend had a past with the cowboy but still wanted to try a relationship. She avoided Alex for a while, scared for his reaction, but when the confrontation happened, she was met with nothing but understanding. She’ll never know how Alex could be so calm back then, because right now this fucking hurt and she wanted to punch something.

Moments before he left, Maria stopped him, asking him the one thing he didn't want to answer.

"Why are you choosing him now, Michael?" She asked while putting too much force on drying a cup of glass. "The other day he was stabbed, and you stayed for me. So, what changed? Definitely not Alex almost dying"

"I don't... know." He hesitated. Who was he kidding, this was their break-up and she deserved the truth, even if it meant not crossing her path ever again. "I think that nothing changed, actually. I really believed we had a chance at being happy together, you and I, and I was willing to try. I was so focused on choosing you over him every time that in that morning it was more of an autopilot choice. I didn't follow my heart because I’ve programmed myself to choose you." He could feel his voice cracking. The words were too painful even to him, but once he started he couldn't stop.

"God, Michael" she put the glass down hard, the only reason for not breaking being its thickness. "I am angry, and sad, and I don't want to see you for a while, but..." she looked at him, her voice going a bit soft for her next words "what we had was exhausting. I've been trying to pinpoint the moment where we turned the relationship into an obligation. Now I see it’s been like this since the beginning, but we couldn’t keep the act for too long." 

"I'm sorry, Deluca."

"I'm sorry too." She turned her back on him to organize the bottles on the shelf. "Just... stay away for a while, yes? I need to clear my head."

Michael tipped his cowboy hat and left without saying a word. Mixed with the sadness was a sense of relief. Now Deluca was free from him, free to search for someone who will wholeheartedly love her the way she deserved. He didn’t regret being with her, they took a shot and failed, but that’s life. At least they know they tried. His regret was on his actions. Maybe if he’d been more honest since the beginning, the end would’ve been different. 

-------

Alex was still asleep when Michael came back to the cabin. The handprint feeling was still fuzzy, so good thing Alex didn't feel all the whirlwind of emotions from the conversation with Maria. Michael had to drive around for a few hours after leaving the Wild Pony just to clear his head. The first thing he noticed when entering the cabin was Forrest in the kitchen, probably cooking something for Alex.

"Alex said, and I quote, you like your coffee like you like your men and women: strong and sweet. Is that right?" Forrest asked without taking his eyes from the stove. "I’m cooking everyone’s favourite because... well... because I can, but also because we deserve it. Alex and I ate half an hour ago, but gimme five minutes and your food will be ready."

Michal was shocked. One thing was Alex telling Forrest what Michael liked to eat and drink, another thing was for Forrest to get out of his way to just cook it. Why would he do that, specially considering he was the ex in the equation? 

"Michael, I barely know you and I can almost feel you overthinking this. Before Alex went back to take a nap he told me you were getting near the cabin and that I should start cooking. Which reminded me, later you both must explain the whole handprint thing for me. I’m still digesting the whole alien superpower thing, but I want to know more" Michael could hear Forrest's smile in his voice. Forrest was relieved and comfortable so his entire body acted like it. 

"Michael. Sit."

And he sat on the table without thinking twice. Sure, the warmth he was feeling towards Forrest was 100% from Alex because of the handprint, but damn this pocket-size historian for making it way too easy to like him.

Forrest put the meal on the table and sat near him. Michael only realised he was starving the moment he took the first bite, and in less than 10 minutes all the food was gone. The coffee was in a nice mug with the Slipknot logo on it, probably Forrest’s, because he knew Alex inclined towards the more emo bands.

As he rinsed the dishes and put them in the dishwasher, Forrest sat on the couch. Michael knew he should leave and let Forrest take care of Alex, but he ended up sitting by the historian's side. He simply didn't want to go.

"Michael..." Forrest started, with his voice soft and his eyes even softer. "You are probably confused by your feelings because of the handprint. Right now you are feeling what Alex feels, so we can only have this full conversation once you are out of Alex's system."

Michael had to take a sip of his coffee just to do something with his hands. In his mind he was bracing himself for the final blow that would destroy him. Forrest was going to order him to leave them alone and never go back.

"Alex told me about your history, and I am so sorry for all the trauma you went through, and I am not saying only your hand.”

Oh, so Forrest knew about that.

“The three of us... we grew up thinking that love and pain are intertwined, you can only love something if you suffer for it." Forrest grabbed Michael's hands, forcing Michael to keep eye contact. "It took me and Alex years and a literal war to understand that love is not painful. It’s hard to believe, both at home or in a battlefield, and even to this day I wake up with doubts.” He paused, taking a deep breath. Michael could see Forrest tensing up, an indication that the next words were hard for him to say out loud. 

“Maybe my family is right and being gay is a punishment, and I deserve to be loveless and miserable for the rest of my life. When you hear you’re not worthy enough times, you start believing in it. Some days nothing, and I mean nothing, can change my mind."

Forrest noticed Michael was getting uncomfortable, and let go of his hands. Both took a sip of their drinks before Forrest sighed, and Michael could see the sadness behind his eyes. A sadness he knew all too well, one that everyone carries but few could hide well. It was a sadness that put doubt in people's heart and turned their self-worth into smoke. Michael wanted to hold Forrest and tell him that everything was going to be alright, but it was probably Alex' influence.

"Alex told me you grew up in the system, the next family worse than the last. I’ve worked with endangered youth, kids with similar stories, and I know how ugly it can get.”

Michael tensed up even more, a reflex that Forrest mistook for annoyance or anger. Michael tried his best to relax, to show Forrest it wasn’t him. It was an unconscious reaction from years of abuse. The historian hesitated for a moment, but then continued.

“What I’m saying is that... it was hard for me to learn that suffering for love ain't romantic or cute. Alex and I want to help you get out of this destructive path you are going through, but we need to start things right. No lies, no secrets, and specially no shame." Forrest grabbed Michael's hand again, but this time Michael was more comfortable. "I want you both to be happy, even if it means me getting out of the picture eventually." As a reflex, Michael tightened his hand, a silent 'no' for the possibility. Forrest smiled and let his thumb caressed the back of Michael's hand.

"I know you can't make any decision right now. First because you just broke up with a long-term friend, and second because of the handprint. Much of your feelings are from Alex, so you are biased. But..." He stopped to bring Michael hands to his lips, and Forrest kissed them lightly with a hint of a smile "once we settle down, we can try something different.”

Michael was taken by surprise. He ran many scenarios in his head, and none of them came close to <i>that.

“I mean, what's the point of being a gay historian if I keep my mind closed towards contemporary interpersonal relations? Monogamy is a recent construct to better control nuclear households and… and... I am going to stop because I am losing the focus here.”

Michael laughed. He understood more and more Forrest's appeal. After a few hours of almost losing Alex and breaking up with Maria, Forrest managed to make Michael laugh.

“Alex says I get a bit too passionate about this matters and..."

"Can I kiss you?" Michael blurted, surprising even himself. "I know, I know, the handprint and all, but Alex's feelings are still fuzzy from the drugs and I am pretty sure he doesn't control every single emotion I have." Now it was time for Forrest to be taken aback. He pondered for two heartbeats and nodded, still processing what just happened. 

Michael caressed Forrest face, mimicking what the historian did few moments ago on the back of his hand. Michael’s calloused fingers brushed the other man’s face, bringing him closer. It started as a brush of lips, and then escalated to a slow and tender kiss. It was one of those that meant comfort, not sex. It made Michael feel warm and safe. Forrest was saying "I accept you and you can stay", and Michael almost felt like crying.

The kiss was broken when they felt the weight shift in the sofa. Michael didn't know for how long they’ve been kissing. The only thing he processed was Forrest on his lap by the time Alex showed up. Michael was starting to panic when Forrest just let a little laugh, going back to the couch to give Alex a kiss on his forehead.

Michael's heart only came back to normal because he could feel how calm and peaceful Alex was. If not for the handprint, he’d definitely be running away right now. After the initial shock, Michael started to process how easy it felt to kiss Forrest while actively ignoring how he was the current boyfriend of his ex.

"You're overthinking again, Michael." Surprisingly (or maybe not), this phrase came out of Forrest, again. He didn't need a handprint to understand what was going on inside the alien's head, and that scared Michael. If only by knowing the stories he understood Michael better than his siblings, what would Forrest be able to do with a little more intimacy?

"War taught us that we can't take tomorrow for granted." Alex said, with a hint of tiredness in his voice that only existed after a drug-induced sleep. "That doesn't mean I'll feel sorry for you and let you go away with all the shit you put me through, Guerin." Alright, back to the last name basis then. "But I will, actually we will, offer you a chance of redemption, but it will all depend on you."

"Own your mistakes and learn from them. Don't project your faults onto others." Forrest said while standing up from the couch. "That means no more bullshit, Guerin."

Michael felt oddly comforted by both men being so straightforward. Yeah, he could get used to this bluntness. Maybe this is the first change he has to make from now on.

"Once this handprint fades and we’re in fully control of our emotions, we’ll talk about possibilities. Right now I just need to focus on not dying from an infected wound which an alien helped to heal." Alex said, finishing Forrest's tea to the last drop.

“Now, let’s give ourselves some time to digest everything. God knows I still need to process that I made coffee for an alien”. Which, by the way, would you like some more tea, captain?” Forrest stood up and grabbing the mug from Alex' hands. He didn't have to look at Alex to know the answer. "More coffee for you, Michael?" He motioned to the mug on the table.

Michael nodded, still mesmerized by what was happening. They had a long path ahead of them, but he knew how easy could it be to fall into a routine with them. Maybe the Slpiknot mug would slowly turn into his mug, and this realisation terrified him.

Michael slowly gave the object to the historian. He felt like if he moved a bit too abrupt, everything would dissolve and he would wake up in the airstream. Instead, the only thing that happened was Forrest going back to the kitchen and Alex completely relaxed on the couch. 

“Did he give you the whole speech about monogamy and nuclear households? I mean, the whole speech?” Michael shook his head no, and Alex let out a soft laugh. “Then get ready for at least a two-hour lecture from him. I’m not exaggerating. He has a powerpoint presentation about it.” 

Michael could feel more of Alex as the seconds passed, and he has never been so sure that he wanted to change. Forrest and Alex started talking about nothing in particular and Michael closed his eyes, letting himself be surrounded by the tenderness and warmth radiating from that place.

the end

[holyholyholey]

So I painted this. Nobody on Instagram is being helpful and giving feedback tho. I'd like yall to critique it. Gimme something that could be better please. I'm like desperate for critique.

[bitchmilsky]

pick me up

a/n: HERE IT IS YALL, OVER A MONTH IN THE MAKING!!! i started this story bc i wanted to use the mans am in something bc i had just figured out that it was a joke on trans am and then it turned into this whole mess jdkjhgkhd. uhhhh i had a friend kinda proofread and he said it was good?? but obvs if something is like SUPER bad feel free to tell me bc i LIVE for feedback hehe. ALSO the only context i have for high school parties is the media so if its like super exaggerated thats why ahfsg

tags: @mambofivehargreeves @kiddangers @coolies326 (if anyone else wants to be tagged, lemme know!!)

summary: henry goes to a party and gets mixed in with the wrong crowd. 789 words

TW: underage drinking and drug use

The gentle hum of the Mans Am was enough to lull Henry to sleep. He looked over at Ray, who had zoned out as soon as they got on the highway, only making subtle adjustments when needed. He was in his pajamas, and his hair was a mess. I guess I woke him up, Henry thought. He felt guilty for calling Ray in the middle of the night, but he didn't know who else to call. He had snuck out, so he couldn't call his parents or Piper, and Charlotte would just say "I told you so". Jasper couldn't even drive, and Lord knows where Schwoz was. So, he called Ray. Ray, who dropped anything and everything whenever Henry needed something, anything. Ray, who cared more for him than his own father. Ray, who just needed some goddamn sleep. A wave of guilt rushed over Henry, who once again realized Ray was half-asleep. Trying to push the guilty feeling out of his mind, he thought back to what brought him here.

~~~~~

"Hey Henry, you coming to my party tonight?"

"Oh, h-hey Kendra. Uhh, yeah, I can make it," Henry said, blushing.

"Great! See you there." She gave him a once-over before walking off. Henry couldn't help but stare in awe.

"Henry, snap out of it! Are you actually going to Kendra's party?" asked Charlotte, concerned.

"I heard shes bad news bears. Don't go, Hen," added Jasper

"I'll be fine, guys. Besides, she's cute." Henry had a loving look in his eyes. Jasper and Charlotte looked at each other.

"Henry, she's known to get into some bad shit. Seriously, don't go. I worry about you sometimes," Charlotte told him. Henry frowned.

"I can take care of myself. I don't need you on my ass all the time," he snapped. Charlotte sighed.

"Just be careful, alright? Make good choices," she said, before grabbing Jasper's hand and walking off. Jasper resisted her pull for a second, until she gave him A Look, and he followed. Henry slammed his locker shut and went home for the night.

~~~~~

"Henry, your mother and I are going to a play tonight and we need you to stay home and watch Piper," Mr. Hart said, adjusting his tie. Henry stood up in protest.

" Dad, I can't! I have a party tonight!"

"Hah! As if. Your nerd friends wouldn't have a party," Mr. Hart pointed out, slightly mean.

"Hah. You're a nerd," jeered Piper, from the other room. Henry glared at her.

"No for reals. This girl, Kendra, she invited me to a party tonight," Henry insisted.

"Don't care. You, young man, are going to watch Piper and you are going to LIKE it!" Mr. Hart left in a huff, and Mrs. Hart left soon after.

"There's no way KENDRA invited you to her party," said Piper, looking at her phone.

"She did! It was wack," said Henry, gazing into the distance.

"Well I'm having my friend Marla over and we want you out of the house. Do you need a ride?"

"Nah, I'll be fine. Hey, if Mom and Dad get home before me, can you cover?"

"Duh. Go have fun." Piper pushed him playfully, and he walked out the front door.

~~~~~

"Henry! Glad you could make it," Kendra said, putting her hand on his arm. She smelled like booze. "Can I get you something to drink?"

"N-no thanks," said Henry, somewhat uncomfortable. "Is everyone, y'know-"

"Drinking? No, not everyone. I know I saw Bianca with a cup, but I know Bilsky's not. But he has a joint so that's probably why." Henry frowned. "You sure you don't want any?"

"I'm sure. I have uhhh, work tomorrow and I can't be like, hungover or anything." Kendra shrugged.

"Alright. Suit yourself." She grabbed his hand and led him towards the kitchen, where a couple people were, including Mitch Bilsky. "You have fun, I'll be riiiight back," she said, planting a kiss on Henry's cheek before walking off.

"Hart! Did Kendra really invite YOU?" Mitch looked almost happy to see him. He was oddly chill. "D'you wanna hit?" That explains the chill, Henry thought.

"I'm good, Mitch."

"Whatever. Hey, where's those other two?" Mitch questioned. "Y'know, the bucket fucker and the know it all?"

"You mean Jasper and Charlotte? They uh, couldn't make it." Henry thought back to his friends, and how worried they were about him. They wanted the best for him, and he treated them like shit. He considered leaving, until Kendra came back. She took his hand and led him to a more secluded area of the house. She pushed him onto the couch, climbed on top, and shoved her lips onto his. Slowly, he accepted. She tasted like the Man Cave air after a bad fight. The Man Cave. His friends - his family really. Jasper, Schwoz, Ray. And Charlotte. He recalled what she had said that afternoon - make good choices. He felt horrible about the way he had treated her. She was watching out for him, like she always does. She looks out for her boys, and in return she only gets Henry's bullshit. Henry realized that this wasn't something he wanted, he wasn't with the people he cared about - the people who cared about him. He quickly pushed Kendra off, to her surprise.

"What the hell, man?" She looked pissed.

"I uhh, have to go to the bathroom," Henry lied. She rolled her eyes.

"Down the hall and to the left. But don't take too long," she added, winking.

"Uh-huh." He ran to the bathroom and quickly locked the door. Trying his best to not break down, he hurriedly tapped the name he'd called so many times before. The phone only rang twice before he heard a familiar, sleepy voice.

"H'lo?"

"Ray! Oh thank God, I'm at a party and they're all drinking and Mitch Bilsky brought weed and I think I saw someone with Adderall or something and I just... I don't wanna be here. Can you please pick me up?" he said, on the verge of tears. The line was silent for a minute. "I didn't wake you up, did I?"

"Nope," Ray said through a heavy yawn. "Text me the address, I'll be there ASAP." Henry breathed a sigh of relief, and waited in the bathroom until he got the glorious "I'm here" text from Ray.

~~~~~

A hard swerve of the car broke Henry from his thoughts. Ray mumbled something under his breath, and his eyes were halfway shut. Henry once again felt guilty for waking him up and making him drive all the way to get him. He finally spoke up.

"Ray, I'm so-

"Don't apologize, kid. I'm glad you're okay." He put his hand on Henry's shoulder. "You're my kid, and your safety is my priority."

"No, really, you haven't slept in days

I could've Ubered, or stayed there, or called Piper, or anything. I shouldn't've woken you up."

"Henry, let me tell you something. When you love someone, whether it's platonic, or familial, or romantic, you would drop anything for them. You're my kid and I love you. Besides, we'll be back to the Man Cave in no time. Oh sHI-" Ray narrowly avoided another car after drifting into the other lane and quickly flipped the bird. Henry cringed.

"Look dude, you need sleep. I could've called someone else." Ray sighed.

"Henry, when you became my sidekick, you swore an oath to obey my orders, and right now I order you to stop worrying about me." He cracked a smile, and Henry felt better.

"Thanks.... Dad." And slowly but surely, Henry began to cry.

"Kid, it's okay, I promise, don't worry about me," Ray reassured him.

"It's not that, it's just... oh God, gimme a minute..." Henry said, wiping his eyes. "Whew... it's just... my dad's always leaving for DAYS at a time and my mom's like... GONE. I mean she was here tonight, but otherwise I don't really see her that much and I don't even think they WORRY about me... Piper was in the tubes for like a day and a half and he didn't even care until someone told him to. But when I call you to pick me up, you just come and pick me up and say you care and it’s just... it feels good to be loved by this." Ray was silent for a minute.

"Henry, anything you need, EVER, I can do for you. If you need a pick up, I can do that. If you forget your lunch, I can get that. And Henry, God forbid you need a place to stay? The Man Cave is always open to you. Piper, too. Now get some rest, we'll be there soon. Love you, kid."

"Love you too, Dad." The gentle hum of the Mans Am was enough to lull Henry to sleep, and so, basking in the love he felt, he fell asleep.

[jakes-tummy]

Hey yall, gimme some tea or sum while I work on some requests and wips pretty please, <3

Or just tell me something fun or ask me anything you'd like. I'm just bored and want some interaction.

OOH WAIT OR YOU COULD GIVE ME FEEDBACK ON MY SMAUS AND WHAT YOU TJINK OF THEM OR LIKE QUESTIONS FOR CHARACTERS THAT WOULD BE SO FUN !!