#eh whatever the fuck im too sleepy for that

[sunlitlemonade]

so. uh. surprising thing about jason, who might be one of the most inconsistently written characters ever, is the fact that one trait about him has remained constant throughout different eras, reboots and even an elseworld. no, it's not his thighs tho that would be a very good guess.

it's his suicidal ideation. yeah.

[here's me screaming about the fact that he feels like a phantom that has outlived its purpose of haunting in detail if you're interested]

#issue numbers are in the image descriptions box for anyone who wants them #pls feel free to add this lil collection #um. do i tag other characters mentioned here orrrr #eh whatever the fuck im too sleepy for that #plus this is abt jason. so. #jason todd #tw suicidal ideation #cw suicidal ideation #suicidal ideation cw #suicidal ideation tw #just making sure nobody gets triggered #dc

[elytrafemme]

hkdsjfgseryuwsgyrufkyd you have such good words all the time and like ima try not to ramble so that this is quick to answer ect ect but i absoluetly love how you talk about things. you just seem so??? real i think is the word im looking for. human maybe. like you have words that perfectly wrap up my mind in a soft blanket. its everywhere. like your whole being is threaded with this sort of energy. like late nights in summer greeting you with the sounds of wildlife and while you cant see a thing you know its all there. like i think the word im looking for is life.

words are hard uakjdgad

i have been fighting off my brains attempt to zone out for like almost an hour now and i am loosing so i think i will sleep soon. its making words hard. i think your words have like altered my being, just a little.

youre just amazing anyway i realize i didnt say much so feel free to delete this. i like rewrote this 5 times and had almost sent an as 3 times before now. yippee

hiya i'm getting back 2 this now bc im in the proper mood for it again (tho WAY less philosophical im just contently sitting now ^_^)

you know i think i've spent a lot of my life and still do spend a lot of time viewing myself as like ... an inhuman entity. which like isn't true but idk i've gotten some pretty warped perceptions of what kind of person i have to be and the expectations of the world. and i kinda need to remind myself like hey you are literally a teenager just loving and doing your goddamn best and trying to be cool and failing half the time but making memories ALL the time and like. i dunno. it's important! it's important

sometimes i'm real articulate sometimes i am ... So Not but either way im glad i can like! hit on those vibes and shit. i dunno. i have many thoughts i simply yearn 2 share them

just let out the biggest yawn so you from a day ago and me are having some sleepy solidarity. still trying to trudge up a fic from my bookmarks though to reread so imaginably i'll be up for way longer than i should but eh i got a good 11 hours in last night i can afford some poor decision making skills

i realize 11 hours means i would have been sleeping for a REALLY fucking long time but uh. well actually. it was from like... 10:30. to 10:30. hang on how does math work. okay fucking whatever it was a long time

your words r valuable even if they are kind of all over the place bc mine are too we are simply communicating. we talk like how i think shrimp talk. yeah :D and also some of ur other asks i havent replied to just sit in my inbox im leaving the one where u wished me good tooth recovery in there and i'll answer it when i feel fully better its just a pick me up. anyway appreciate u

#nightmare.ask #long post #sleepy anon ☁️

[thebuttsmcgee]

#slepy #the butts chronicles #verya sleepy #but not in an entirely bad way. I just found the perfect asmr thats not asmr #its a classic for a life long fav subject and the fact someone made it an hour could help with sleep #so Im p sleepy rn. yawns like a freak. #uhhh. today was ehhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. #yall I actually had like a pain or something in my chest that mighta been near my heart so I might die! 🤞 #I dunno what it was but eh. eh. uhh. ate some chicken. ate watermelon. drank wahter. and yea. hm. day. eh. #Ive been reeling in my head about my webcomic tho and Ive been going nuts both in good and bad ways. #cause this whole time Ive been thinking 'what if Im too self-indulgent? what if Im too arrogant for this? what if Im not even okay enough to #do what I want for this?' then I read something last night that was just. not good. JDHAVS. it was soooo. ah ya know what fuck it #I'll say it was bad and while I would usually feel bad this story was actually ableist so fuck that author. #like usually if fics are self-indulgent then Im ok since its a fic made by someone else entirely yet they published it for the world to see #hell go self-ship or whatever as long as ya have fun. but this fic last night.....ugh. ableist and a power fantasy. #also shitting on literally every character other than 1 or 2. AND LIKE. THEY SHIT ON THE MC FOR STUPID SHIT. H. H. #ugh. bleghhhhhhh. what a shet. anyways. uhh. yea. today has apparently been day. congrats on escapin expulsion for being released also #big win for gay. huge win. fucka d*sney. #gosh Im sleepy. hopefully yall had an okay day tho!

[vquacki]

It's My Fatherly Duties!

It's My Fatherly Duties!

Short DAD Scenarios 

Characters: BONTEN - Rindou Haitani, Ran Haitani, Sanzu Haruchiyo

~ Inui Seishu, Kokonoi Hajime, Izana Kurokawa, 

~ Souya Kawata (Angry), Nahoya Kawata (Smiley)

Warning ⚠︎︎ : Mature content, cussing, MINORS DNI

Note : requested, I added some characters. Hope ya don’t mind! These are pretty short, just little things I put together. Word barf kinda..? Anyways- I hope you enjoy :))

R I N D O U 

His lashes fluttered open when he heard a loud crash coming from the hallway, along with a string of cuss words sounding like his daughter's voice. 

“What the hell was that?” You groaned, not a single word was uttered from your husband when he sprung out of bed, bolting to the bedroom down the corridor.

“Tohru?!” Rindou yelled, flinging open the door. Revealing your teenage daughter fully dressed, half way through her second story window. A facade of pillows under her blanket seeminging meant to be her ‘sleeping body’.

“Oh dad, I-”

“What the hell are you doing” The man was fuming by the ears, pajamas ruffled when he jolted out of his slumber. 

“Is Tohru okay?” You peeked from behind the broad shouldered man. 

“I was just going to get fresh air!” Your daughter lied, making up a somewhat excuse to appease her angered father. 

“Hey Tohru! Hurry up and get down here!” You heard a boy's voice call out, looking over at Rindou’s face to see the man's darkened expression.

“Who the fuck is down there? Is that a boy?!” He growled, stomping his feet over to the glass. Pushing past his daughter to take a look. 

“Oh shit- her dads here. Let’s book it!” The kids whispered, but loud enough for Rindou to make out, hastily running down the dark street. 

“You little shits! Don't you dare come back here!” Rindou growled, slamming the window shut in the process. 

“What! Dad!” Tohru whined, 

“You're so grounded young lady!” Rindou shouted, not caring for the sleeping neighbors beside his shared condo at three in the morning. 

“Rin, she was just having some fun!” You defended, you were also like her when you were her age, trouble makers run in your blood. Actually Rindou couldn't even talk- he was running roppongi at her age.  

“No! She's just too young to be hanging out with boys!” Rindou’s brows joined together as he withered in front of you. 

“But we dated when we were her age-” You deadpanned at him, 

“Grounded! My final answer!” 

R A N  

Ran was coming home from a late night bonten meeting, mouth agape when he saw his daughter’s feet dangling out from her window. 

Fearing the worst he sprinted to the ground below his child, hands outstretched to catch her if she were to misstep. 

“Mitsuri!” His voice boomed,

“Eh? Dad?!” His daughter stuttered, slowly slid out the window, climbing down like she had done this many times prior to this awkward occurrence. 

Toes easily touching the grass with ease, not a scratch upon the females porcelain skin. 

“Ran?” You yawned, cracking the door ajar. It was late, you waking up to your husband's screams outside your house. 

“Mitsuri, what are you doing climbing out your window like a maniac?!” Ran scowled, hands running through his messed up hair. Sweat dripping down his temple from the not so pleasant adrenaline rush. 

“I was just gonna hang out with some friends..” your daughter answered, fingers gripping the edge of her shirt, scarily waiting for her dad’s reaction. 

“At this time of night? .. out your window?”

“Ye-”

“Phone privileges. Give me it.” Ran demanded, palm stretched out. 

“But-” no question she was a tad bit spoiled by her father. You being the bad cop, while your husband played the good cop for his beloved daughter. 

“If you want to go anywhere all you got to do is ask!” Ran plucked the phone from his daughter's hand, a wave of relief washing over him. Secretly thanking whatever being watching over him that it wasn't some sort of gang related subject. 

“This is what you get for spoiling her!” You laughed from the sidelines, hand clutching your stomach.

“This is your fault too ya know!” Ran argued. 

“I’m the one who tries to discipline her! But someone always lets it go!” You emphasized the special somebody. 

“Whatever” Ran sighed, This was a lesson for the usual carefree man, a special lesson he wouldn't forget in the many years to come with his unborn future children. 

S A N Z U 

It was Sanzu’s best day of his life when his daughters were born, the two only being about one year apart. They were spoiled to the core, anything they wanted their money liberl father blessed them with. He thought they were the sweetest things ever, them both being a daddy's girl after all. 

He never would have expected to see both of his daughters outside his humble abode, standing beside two boys, most likely a double date. 

He stared in shock, hands pressed firmly against the glass, teeth gritting. 

“Huh? I tucked them into bed an hour ago” You rubbed your eyes, riding yourself of the sleepiness threatening to drown you. The pink haired only tutted his teeth, swifty twisting the door knob to confront the four children outside. 

“Oh you better run” your oldest daughter whispered, gesturing for the boys to make haste from her deadly father. 

“You better not come back here, unless you want trouble you fuckers!” Sanzu yelled, red in the eyes from anger. Not bothering to chase after the two scoundrels. 

“Dad, mom! What are you guys doing awake?” Your youngest asked, sheer panic in her eyes, watching her insane fathers unpleasant smile. 

“I swear you two will be the death of me” Sanzu uttered, shoving his hands into his pockets. A irked gleen in his orbs as he stared them down. 

“They were just friends dad, stop overreacting” the older daughter said, 

“I- You little shi-” He bit his lip to suppress his anger fueled words, knowing well it would definitely hurt his precious children's feelings. Having regretted it later if he were to say those sinful words. 

“Now now Sanzu, let's head to bed” You wrapped your arms around your lover, dragging him inside the house. 

“You can sort out their punishment tomorrow, after a good night's sleep” , coating him with reassuring words. That day he learned how misjudged he was of his children, even so he still loved them with all his heart.

I Z A N A 

Izana had his feet kicked up, relaxing in his office while he watched the moon. He had a clear view, the street lamps positioned next to the sidewalk, the side of his beautiful house facing his office window. He was enjoying his free time, mind taking over his body while he thought about his life choices. He was in ease until he saw his son's window light up, a long string of rope being tossed out the opening. 

Sitting up from his chair, he rushed over to his clear casement. Throwing his window open, a boy and girl standing beneath his son's window. The two holding the rope still as your child tried to slid down. 

“My my Yuki, where are you off to?” Izana laughed, nerves finally relaxing when he figured out what was going on. Calmly settling into the frame, head leaning on his chin. It wasn't like he had the right to be upset, he did much worse when he was his son's age. Robbing, fighting, killing. You name it, Izana’s done it. 

Sneaking out was nothing compared to what he did, but he wasn't gonna just let his son go. He was more wise now, he knew for a fact he didn't want his son to end up anything like him. Sure, he wanted the boy to have fun, but in a normal kid way. 

“Dad! Um- I”

“You better get your arse back up that window before I drag you around with that rope” Izana smiled, Totally different from the sentence he was portraying. Not forgetting his manners, giving a nonchalant wave to the other two kids. 

“Zana? Who are you talking to?” You asked, placing a cup of tea you had prepared for Izana on his desk. 

“Oh no one doll” Izana answered, closing the window before walking over to you. 

“Let's go to bed, yeah?” He proposed, trailing his hands around your shoulders, guiding you to the door.

“But the tea I made”

“Im tired~” 

Overall the male wouldn't want to talk further about the situation, nor would he discuss it with you. Trivial matters held no place between you both, as long as the child did not dare do it again. 

I N U I 

Inui wiped the sweat dripping from his forehead, the AC wasnt working at the motor shop. Him, draken and yourself were sweating bullets, the hot material around you not helping. You had decided to help the pair around the shop, cleaning what you could. Or helping with cashing every customer out, it would've been an easy task if it wasn't blazing hot. 

Leaving your daughter home alone, obviously thinking she’d stay and do her teenage things. You couldn't be more mistaken, astounded as you watched her fiddle around with a boy across the street at the ice cream parlor. 

“Y/N please don't tell me that Kagura..” Inui’s jaw dropped, the wrench that was once in his clasp dropping to the ground. Startling the concentrating Draken that was crouched over a motorbike. 

“What's wrong Inui? Y/N” Draken twisted his body around, raising a brow when you two just started muttering to each other like two creeps. 

“Is that... a boy” Inui held his chin between his fingers, squinting to get a better view of his kid. 

“You trying to catch flies with your mouth Inui? Close your yap” You whispered, 

“Y/N! She's too young, I feel like I just held her in my arms not too long ago. She can't get married just yet!” Inui argued, he would've been on the verge of tears if he didn't have a reputation to uphold. 

“What? The fuck are you on Inui? She's probably just with a friend!” You patted his back, reassuring the man. 

“Boys and girls can be friends ya’know” you added.

Cueing the two children across the road from you, feeding scoops of ice cream to each other.

“I don't think friends do that..” Inui looked over at you, eyes widening when you swung the motor shop’s door open. Hands coming around your mouth to amplify your words,

“Kagura, is that your boyfriend?” 

“WHAT?” Inui almost fainted, the ledge behind him holding his wobbly frame up right. 

“I didn't know you guys would be here!” Your daughter jogged across the street, leaving the boy sitting by himself. 

“And no! Just a friend” She answered your embarrassing, blushing as she stared down at the ground.,

“I sense some lies” you wiggled playfully at the flustered girl. 

“What! Anyways, Sorry I left the house without telling you” Kagura apologized, 

“Just don't do it again, without my permission..” Inui stated, 

“Especially not with a boy.”

K O K O N O I

Bribing people is his forte, and if they did not obliged? Threatening always did the trick. 

And that's exactly what he did when he saw his descendant out with a male. All was dandy until the boy came running back, babbling about how his girl was the so called ‘love of his life’.

“Hey brat, you got a death wish?” Kokonoi asked, leaning against the door frame. 

“Koko go easy on him, he’s just a kid” You nudged the man, a mischievous grin plastered on the males face. 

“And I kinda think it's cute” You said, a small smile erupting from your daughter that was not so far behind her parents. 

“I approve, kid! I like your romantic drive!” You clapped, 

“Y/N!” Kokonoi pouted, 

“You better not try to bribe him with money again” You threatened, waving a finger at the whiny man. 

“Yeah! I like him too, dad!” Your daughter agreed. 

“You're like twelve, go play chess or something” Kokonoi barked, crossing his arms in disapproval. 

“Dad, I'm sixteen!” 

“That's what I said” 

S O U Y A 

He almost had a panic attack at the sight, having to shield the man from the scene playing out. Your twin daughter saying their goodbyes to their dates, followed by a kiss. You removed your hand when the boys were no longer in view, riding off in their motorcycles. 

“Shira, Nihra” You held Souya up by the shoulder, the light headed male limping towards the worried kids.

“What's wrong with dad?” Nihra questioned, eyeing her ghostly pale father. 

“He's out of it” You giggled, 

“I'm not crazy am i?” He stood tall, letting go of the arm you had draped around him. 

“There was boys-” His voice cracked. 

“You saw that dad?” Shira sweat dropped, watching as her fathers should leave his body. 

“Next time ask before you go out” You smiled, you weren't too strict on the two. They were Souya’s children, earning most of their adorable traits from him. Even his fighting skills. 

“This better not happen again, i'm trusting you” Souya grumbled.

“Sorry pops” The two girls remorsefully sollied the man, both hooking onto one of Souya’s arms as they helped his shell into the house. 

N A H O Y A 

Nahoya was beyond pissed, infamous smile widening. Taking fast steps towards your daughter and her significant other. 

“Look boy, I don't know who you are. But my daughters not up for grabs” Nahoya grinned, cracking his fingers. 

“O-okay sir” the boy was jittering, body trembling from the males intense arua. 

“If I catch ya here again” he used his finger to slash his neck, motioning to the death that would happily greet the boy if they were to ever meet again.

“Yer dead meat kiddo”  Nahoya laughed, watching as the boy ran for his life. 

“Dad, that was really extra!” Your daughter sneered, a pout on her lips. 

“Shut up!, you're grounded rat!” Nahoya shouted. 

“Yeah Nahoya, there was no need to threaten the poor kid. He looked like he was gonna piss himself.” 

“Exactly the effect i wanted”

End Note : as I said this was a word barf T-T, so it’s quite short.

Reblogs & Notes are always appreciated! Take care! ♡︎♡︎

#tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers fluff #tokyo revenger x reader #tokyo revengers headcanons #tokyo revengers oneshot #tokyo revengers scenarios #tokyo revengers anime #tokyo revengers imagines #souta kawata #tokyo revengers angry #tokyo revengers smiley #tokyo revengers izana #tokyo revengers sanzu #tokyo revengers ran #tokyo revengers rindou #tokyo revengers inui #tokyo revengers kokonoi #bonten #haruchiyo sanzu #sanzu haruchiyo #haitani ran #haitani rindou #izana kurokawa #smiley #inui seishu #hajime kokonoi #izana kurokawa x reader #rindou haitani #ran haitani

[sarah-sandwich]

"I need a hug" please and thank you!

Hi friend! Here it is! Remind me to never commit to a fic a day for an entire week again lmao

Happy last day of National Storyteller Week to everyone who creates or consumes stories! Jump over to my ao3 for 5 ridiculous parkner fics 👌✨💛

Peter, no

He probably should have clued in sooner, a lot sooner.

Him and Peter have been attached at the hip for three years, ever since Peter ran into the lab in the middle of a video call with Tony, shouted something about an arm-wrestling tournament with the Avengers, and begged, “You gotta come trash talk them for me! Please, Mr. Stark! No one roasts as good as you!” Then, after receiving Tony’s resigned agreement, exclaimed, “I’m gonna dislocate Captain America’s shoulder!” turned tail and sprinted back out, ignoring Tony’s, “Peter, no!”

It was over in under a minute but he was bewitched.

“Who was that? And why haven’t I met him?”

“I’ve been avoiding this day,” Tony said in a world-weary tone. “You’re either going to hate each other or get on like a house fire. Either way, I’ll never know peace again.”

In usual Tony Stark fashion, he was right.

He thought he’d seen every side of Peter there is. He’s seen him soft and sleepy under the blue glow of the television. He’s seen him wired and manic as he pursues a project on little to no sleep. He’s seen him broken and bleeding in more ways than he cares to count. He’s seen him laughing until he cries, crying so hard the only thing he can do is cry with him, too exhausted to feed himself, too angry to speak, and he’s been there when he’s on the cusp of dropping dead from embarrassment (usually pointing and laughing but hey, somebody’s gotta keep him humble).

He knows him like he knows his sister, like he knows his mom, like he knows himself.

His point is, it shouldn’t have taken this camping trip to put the pieces together. Realization shouldn’t have hit him like a log to the face when Peter rolled up the sleeves of his borrowed flannel and suddenly he couldn’t breathe for wanting to kiss him stupid.

Well, stupider.

A moment later, Peter picked up the bag of tent poles like they weighed nothing and somehow managed to dump them all over the side of the road like a can of pick-up-sticks.

It’s gonna be a long weekend.

~*~

“What’s this thing for again?” Peter asks, raising his arms high over his head to hold up the long swath of fabric two times his height.

“It’s a rain fly, Peter. It keeps out the rain.”

“It’s not supposed to rain. Trust me, Aunt May checked the weather like 50 times before she would let me leave.”

“We still need it.”

“But why? We could sleep under the stars.”

“It traps in heat.”

“Sounds like another tally in the cons column. It’s hot as fuck, dude.”

“Not tonight it won’t be. Temperature fluctuates a lot in the mountains, especially when the sun goes down.”

“Temperature fluctuates in the mountains,” Peter repeats mockingly.

Harley stops what he’s doing. “If you really wanna sleep under the stars I don’t have to share my tent. Enjoy the skeeters.”

“You love me too much to leave me to sleep with the wildlife,” Peter says, voice muffled from under the rain fly as he attempts to drape it over the erected tent.

His heart skips. Does he know? Has he been that obvious even while oblivious to his own feelings? Did Peter figure it out before he did? Has he been graciously not saying anything about his huge undeniable crush while—

Peter squawks and tumbles forward, the tent collapsing under him with a snap that echoes through the trees. The rain fly flutters over him like a burial shroud.

“Please tell me whatever just broke was a part of you.”

“Uhh, sorry.”

He sighs. He’s in love with an idiot.

~*~

The tent leans a little to the left when they’re done with it but he’s pretty sure it’ll hold up through the night. Just in case, they limit how often they go in and out of it (which, in his opinion, is the way it should be done regardless).

A breeze rustles the trees, scattering pine needles as birds chitter and small unseen wildlife scurries around the underbrush. He breathes in deep, savoring the scent of dirt, pine, and fresh air. He’s been in the city far too long.

Peter stands with his hands on his hips, dirt crusted on the knees of his jeans, his borrowed flannel pulling tight across his chest as he watches a puffy white cloud scoot by with a befuddled expression.

He turns to Harley. “So umm, now what?”

He shrugs. “Whatever you want. You’re the one who’s never done this before?”

Peter stares at him blankly.

“Right. Forgot who I was talking to.” He shakes his head and walks over to the car with a sigh. “This way, city boy. It’s time you learned to fish.”

“Sounds smelly.”

“Mmm.” He pops the trunk and pulls out two fishing rods—one old and dinged up, the other brand-spankin-new—and he passes them to Peter so he can grab the tackle box and a white plastic bucket with a lid on it.

“And slimy,” Peter continues, wrinkling his nose at the bold ‘WORMS’ printed on the side of the white bucket.

“That it is, but there aren’t any rats and no one has pissed on the place you need to sit so it’s automatically better than anything the city has to offer.”

“We’ll see about that,” Peter grumbles.

~*~

“Y’know,” Harley drawls lazily, eyes half-lidded as he watches Peter jump from rock to rock along the shoreline, “usually when people are lookin’ to catch a fish they cast their line into the water rather than leavin’ it on the ground.”

“Oh is that how it’s done? I had no idea,” Peter says, stooping down to peer into a small pool sequestered away from the rest of the body of water. “What do tadpoles look like?”

“Uh, little squirmy guys.”

“Very descriptive, thank you.”

“Mhmm. Anytime, darlin’.”

Peter looks up at him, eyes narrowed and he jolts under the sudden scrutiny.

“What?” he asks. He always calls him darling. It’s just a thing he says—a southern thing. So what if over the years he’s stopped using the name for anyone else? It doesn’t mean anything. It’s not weird.

“Are you falling asleep?” Peter asks.

“Pfft, no,” he says. The sun is deliciously warm, seeping into his skin and turning his bones to butter as the katydids buzz and birds sing. A warm breeze ruffs his hair and he finds himself blinking slowly.

“Dude, you’re totally falling asleep.” Peter grins playfully and hopscotches across the rocks back to him as he teases, “You know, usually when someone wants to catch a fish, they do it while they’re awake.”

“I am awake, dummy.”

“Not for much longer.” He comes to a stop at his side and tweaks the brim of his hat. “Look at you. You’re like an old man falling asleep in his recliner in front of the big game.”

“Napping is a perfectly respectable part of fishing,” he argues.

Peter throws back his head and laughs. Backed by blue sky and thickly forested mountain, sunlit from above, he’s never looked better.

Should he tell him? Is now the time? He can’t imagine living like this—knowing how he feels but bottling it up and keeping it a secret from his best friend.

Then again—

His fishing rod dips and he sits up with a start, hands already moving for the reel.

“Woah, is that a fish?” Peter exclaims, peering into the lake.

“Sure hope so. Can’t imagine what else it’d—,”

“Can I pull it in?” Peter asks, bouncing on the balls of his feet like an excitable puppy.

“No, you if wanna get a fish you have to put in the work.”

“What work? Laying around half-asleep?”

“Yeah, exactly. I’ll let you take it off the line, how ‘bout that?”

“Eh, that’s okay. I’m good.”

He wrestles the fish out of the lake, a bass about two hands long, and then holds the flopping fish, hooked through the lip, out to Peter.

“There you go. Just pop that puppy off the hook and toss ‘im back in.”

“Wait, you don’t even keep the fish?”

“What would I do with a fish?”

“…eat it?”

“That’s a whole song and dance I ain’t got the tools or the patience for. Just grab the fish, Pete. Preferably before it suffocates.”

Peter makes an unhappy sound in his throat but reaches for the fish. Just as his fingers brush the scales, the fish gives a mighty wiggle and Peter flinches back towards the lake.

“Eep!” Peter squeaks and goes into the water with a splash.

Harley hunches over, laughing his head off as Peter sits up, water streaming down his face and dripping from his hair.

“I hate you.” Slipping and sliding in the muck, he makes his way through the mid-thigh deep water, back to dry land, and then keeps walking past Harley and up the hill to the trail that will lead him back to camp.

All the while Harley laughs and laughs, taking a moment to free the fish back into the lake before he sits down and tips his face to the sun, chuckling and committing to memory the way Peter’s soaked jeans and flannel clung all over his body.

~*~

“I still don’t see why—,”

“Shush,” Peter snaps, frowning in concentration over the tiny flame he’s been babying to life for the past fifteen minutes.

He sighs. He tried to convince him to wait until supper for a campfire meal but Mr. Eager Beaver insisted on trying his hand at it now. Had they made sandwiches they’d be done by now and could be hiking. But no. Peter wants to play Boy Scout so they’re going to sit here and starve until he gets a fire built just to spend five minutes roasting hot dogs and then have to put it out again.

To make matters worse, Peter’s no longer wearing his shirt since it got soaked in the lake. He’d gotten attached to how he looks in his clothes. Now he’s wearing on one of his standard nerd-pun tees and a wrinkly pair of khaki cargo shorts and he’s going to have to convince him to at least put on long socks before they hike or he’s going to risk getting poison ivy or poison oak all over his calves and ankles.

“There it goes! There it goes!” Peter exclaims, sitting up tall and motioning at him to look at the little flame as it eats up the pile of twigs and tinder.

“Very good, dear,” he says dryly. “Now see if you can keep it going with some real wood.”

Peter cocks his head at him. “Was that a double-entendre?”

“Why on earth would I imply that we should put a part of my human anatomy in the fire, Peter?”

“I don’t know,” he murmurs, squatting beside the fire as he breaks up a stick. “Dick jokes are funny.”

“You’re a child.”

“And yet you— Shit!” He flinches back from the fire and falls on his backside.

He comes alert with a spike of adrenaline, rushing forward to— to— pat out flames with his bare hands? He doesn’t know. “What happened?” he demands, checking Peter over for damage and finding nothing, not a burn or singe in sight.

Still sprawled on the ground, Peter looks up at him through his eyelashes with an embarrassed grimace. “I don’t want to say.”

“But you’re okay?”

“Yeah,” he sits up cross-legged and rubs the back of his neck. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

He stares down at him as he looks down in his lap. “You’re really not going to tell me what just happened? I already saw you fall in a lake because you were scared of a fish. It can’t be worse than that.”

Peter looks up, neck crimped and mouth screwed into an unhappy pucker. “I thought something was on me but it was just the grass.”

Harley stares. “So, you thought a bug was on you.”

“Yeah. I’m starting to think I’m not cut out for this place.”

What has he gotten himself into?

~*~

Peter hasn’t stopped chattering about everything under the sun since they left camp. And considering where they are, there’s a lot to chatter about. From bugs to birds to types of trees and identifying clouds, he’s heard it all. It’s why he’s not paying attention to the path like he should, too busy watching the way Peter waves his hands animatedly as he rambles, the way the sun lights his eyes and makes his hair shine, the way his lips shape the words.

He hasn’t taken in a word he’s said for the past twenty minutes but he’s watched him with rapt attention while his mind churns through his options. He’s not one to ignore something once he knows about it. He doesn’t want to keep this a secret. There’s no reason to. It’s nothing shameful and if Peter doesn’t reciprocate then… well, nothing changes, right? He’s fine with that. Best friends is still good. Great, even.

But if Peter does reciprocate…

His breathing quickens at the thought. How did he not notice this ridiculous crush sooner? It’s like something has been awakened inside him and now it refuses to shut up and go back to sleep. He gravitates towards Peter like an orbiting moon. He’s a moth to Peter’s beam of light. Helpless under the thrall.

Peter suddenly looks right at him. “—you know what I mean?”

“Huh?” His foot lands wrong and rolls over a root. His ankle screams out and then he’s dropping as it gives out.

“Woah!” Peter catches him, one arm around his back and the other fisted into his shirt at his shoulder. His brain goes offline, only processing the way Peter is pressed against him, the way his face is angled over him like he’s on the verge of dipping him into a kiss, the way neither of them moves or speaks, staring instead with startled realization.

He thinks he imagines it when Peter’s eyes dilate but then they fix on his lips and there’s no way he’s imagining that.

Lights flash in his head and he forgets to breathe as they hang suspended in time.

Then Peter bites his lip and his cheeks flush dark pink as he yanks Harley upright.

He stumbles, unprepared, and his ankle gives out a second time.

Peter catches him by the elbows babbling, “Oh my God, I’m sorry! Are you okay? I didn’t mean to—,”

“I’m fine. I…” The rest of the sentence vanishes from his tongue as he looks into Peter’s eyes. He loves his eyes—warm and affectionate, they always give him away. Whether they’re bright with curiosity, sparkling with delight, wide with embarrassment, or narrowed in anger, he’s an open book. That’s why the look in his eyes now gives him pause. He’s never seen it before—or maybe it’s been there all along but he hasn’t noticed until now.

They’re dark and focused like he’s seeing through him into his soul and likes what he sees so much he wants to eat him alive.

His heart thunders as he lifts a hand to Peter’s cheek. This is it. This is the moment he tells him and finds out where they’re going to go next.

Peter’s eyes go wide and he swallows thickly, but then his gaze shifts beyond him and he freezes except to carefully grab his forearm in a too-tight grip.

“Bear,” Peter breathes.

His awareness of their surrounding returns so suddenly it hurts. Birds sing, bugs buzz and chirp, somewhere nearby a creek burbles, and behind him on the path, something scuffs the ground and then snorts and sniffs harshly.

“No,” he says quietly. No, he refuses to allow this to be his reality. This cannot be happening. He won’t allow this to happen.

“Harley, bear,” Peter repeats, grip tightening.

Oh my God, this is happening.

“Don’t run,” he says in an undertone. “You’re not supposed to run.”

“We gotta run.”

“Peter, no.”

“Harley, there’s a fucking bear.”

“Listen to me—,”

“I’m gonna grab you—,”

“—we gotta stay still and—,”

“I’ll carry you and—,”

“—non-threatening so—,”

“I’m going to get you up a tree and then—,”

“—it won’t chase us.”

“—the bear will chase me.”

“Peter—,”

“It’ll be fine.”

“—no.”

~*~

He waits in the tree for over an hour, ankle throbbing, sick to his stomach with worry, wondering if he’ll ever see the idiot he stupidly fell in love with ever again. Even if he didn’t get eaten by the bear, he’s no good out here in the woods. He could be lost. He could be too hurt to move. He could be—

—covered in what smells like animal shit and standing balefully at the base of the tree.

“I need a hug,” Peter says, voice small.

“Did you—,”

“I did what needed to be done.”

“So that’s—,”

“Don’t say it. Do you need help getting down?”

“I’ll figure it out. Don’t touch me.”

“That’s fair. I’ll be in the lake. Will you bring me all of the soap and soap-like products we own?”

“Yeah. Gimme a minute.”

“Thanks, Harley.”

“Peter?”

“Yeah?”

I love you. I’m glad you’re not dead. I don’t know what I would’ve done if you hadn’t come back. My life wouldn’t be the same without you in it. You’re everything I want.

“You’re an idiot,” he says.

Peter nods. “Yeah.”

~*~

“Black bears can run 35 miles per hour,” he says conversationally. They’re sprawled on a blanket while the fire crackles nearby (but not too close, they’ve had enough disasters for one day). His foot is propped on the tackle box, elevating his ankle and Peter is beside him, flat on his back staring up at the stars through the trees, close enough that their arms brush.

“Trust me, I know.”

“They can also climb trees,” he continues reading from his phone. “You should never climb a tree to avoid a bear.”

“Harley—,”

“If a bear notices you, stay calm. Most bears don’t want to attack you.”

“Dude, I get it.”

“Move away slowly and sideways. Do not run. Do not climb a tree.”

Peter snatches the phone out of his hands and sits up. “I panicked, okay? I can’t lose you! I had to get you out of there.”

He goes still, the crackling of the fire and the crickets the only sound in the night.

“Say again?”

“Don’t,” Peter says harshly, still holding his phone far out of reach. “Don’t make fun of me about this one. You don’t get it, okay?”

This isn’t how he expected this to happen. Hyper aware of his heart beating in his chest, he asks, “What don’t I get?”

“I was terrified.”

“And you think I wasn’t?”

“Not in the way I was. I was— It was like— It was like if anything happened to you, nothing would be okay ever again. I don’t—,” He pulls in a deep breath, chest heaving as his eyes shine uncommonly bright in the firelight. “I don’t know. You’re— Ever since we met things have just felt right and good in a way they hadn’t before and I’ve already lost so many people and then you were in danger and I couldn’t do nothing. I couldn’t.”

“Okay,” he says gently, sitting upright and scooting over on the blanket. “Okay.” He takes the phone and sets it aside then takes Peter’s hand in both of his. “I’m not going anywhere. I’m okay.”

“I think I’m in love with you,” Peter says miserably, sniffing and wiping his eyes with the back of his free hand. “I think I have been for a long time.”

“Well, that’s lucky because I think I’m in love with you too.”

“You— What?”

“Mhmm. Since at least this morning.”

Peter stares at him. His lips twitch. “This morning? For real? Are you teasing me?”

“A hundred percent serious. It hit me right before you dumped my tent poles all over 36th street. Unrelated, you should wear my clothes more often.” He pauses and then says, “I think today was the universe asking me if I was sure I wanted to be tied down to your dumb ass for the rest of forever.”

“And?” Peter asks, eyes wide in the firelight.

“Yeah,” he says, smoothing a curl away from his forehead. “I’m sure.”

Peter leans in and kisses him, soft and quick. “Is that okay?”

Heart in his mouth, he says, “I think you can do better.”

Peter laughs and smooths his thumb over his cheekbone. “I love you.”

“I love you too, darlin’.”

#writing prompt #peter city boy parker goes camping with harley country boy keener #shenanigans ensue #mutual pining #heh heh geddit? #they're camping in the forest with the pines #but also the regular kind of pining #friends to lovers #parkner #parley #peter parker/harley keener #peter parker #harley keener #playboyphilanthro-pissed

[fictionkinfessions]

okay the weird kinshift trigger thing sounded rlly fun and ive also kinda wanted to share this basically since i realized what had happened so: i somehow like. accidentally pavloved myself into… not shifting rlly bc ive literally been in a qibli kinshift for an actual gregorian calendar year? but like shifting stronger i guess whenever i see stuff about danger days. you know like the danger days comics and stuff. it turns out if you go through enough danger days blogs looking for cool desert pics sometimes your brain will just go “eh whatever im making all these killjoy guys kin triggers too to save time” so now sometimes i see a witchfucker wednesday meme and my brain is like “alright well youre gonna think about the scorpion den for the next hour minimum” and i just have to go with it. (i dont even know who the witch is or why everybody wants to fuck them like i literally do not go here.) its been long enough that sometimes it happens with other mcr related stuff too and it keeps escalating so sometimes i see posts from uhh oh god. i cannot remember their tag but the person who has a bunch of emo band related kins and i think a four emoji tag? and my brain does the exact same thing it does when i see other wof kin. not the thing it does when i see other sourcemates specifically the thing it does for wof sourcemates. something similar happens with certain taz amnesty characters too actually (mostly hornets) which might honestly be funnier because my headmate listened to all of taz amnesty and is kin with at least one taz amnesty character and our brain still decided that i specifically need to see taz amnesty stuff and start thinking about a completely unrelated kintype lmao. anyways sorry this got so long (as usual) i probably couldve made this one a bit shorter but i do not have the energy to trim this properly rn lol i forgot to take my antidepressants yesterday and i am still sleepy about it -qibli (wings of fire)

#fictionkinfessions #fictionkin #wingsoffirekin #qiblikin #kinshift switches #mod party cat! #PARTY POISON GUY!! YEAH!! 🍭✨😈💥

[friiday-thirteenth]

guys im bored hear abt how i broke my arm. TW for broken bones, dissassociation, vomiting, drugs and needles. Also this is like. Therapy. Idk.

weird thing about it was that i was feeling intense happiness, because I’d just confirmed my classes for the next year and i was jsut. Really happy.

So i did this little twirly thing??? idk. Anyway, my ankle went out under my, i put my hand back and crack.

I know there was a definite seperation between the before and after of this. Like, the adrenaline made it feel like I was aware of everything.

After I fell, and after the crack, I stood up fast. I didn’t realise my wrist was fucked until I saw it - and it wasn’t a compound fracture, the skin was still unbroken. But it looked fucking nasty. It was supposed to be held straight, but the wrist was shifted.... up. And it was floppy, but I could control it if I wanted to be in immense amounts of pain.

I started walking over to my P.E. teacher. I said his name once, really loudly - and then he didn’t hear me, so I kept walking. I was cradling my wrist against my body at this point, and I just needed to move. It helped distract from my pain at that point.

When I reached him and he saw my wrist he was like fuck. He didn’t say it, but I could see it, and he said, “ Okay, we need to get you to the sickbay and call your parents.”

Okay, this happened before that when I was walking over. One of the people who was around me had walked beside me and was asking questions, and I straight up said, “Ruby, if you don’t walk away right now, I will either scream or burst into tears and scream, please go away.” I couldn’t handle anyone being near me.

Then when we were walking off the turf (where we were doing P.E. that day, as opposed to the gym.) one of the guys saw my arm and was like holy shit and I’m 99% sure I just looked at him with a really worried look. My face was going white I’m pretty sure, which is weird because I’m naturally flushed quite a lot of the time.

We had to walk up stairs. That fucking sucked. The pain was fine whenever it wasn’t jolting me, and we were walking fast, so you can imagine how I was trying to be very careful.

I’m 99% sure I was terrified that I was going to tip over again, and that would’ve hurt. I was just focusing on staying on my feet.

We got to the office/sickbay and they sat me down. I made myself get my retainer out of my mouth because it was.... foreign. I was going to - I’d say have a panic attack, but I’m not sure that’s the correct name for it - do something bad if I kept it in, because there was something already wrong with me and I just couldn’t handle it.

Also I asked if I could swear. Like, “Um, would it be okay if I, uh, swore?” and the person in there with me looked at me like wtf child and said i could.

Later, one of the teachers who’d walked by told me that they had no idea I had that filthy a mouth on me. Swearing helped a lot.

They made me put my wrist in this makeshift sling thing, which made me want to fucking cry. They sent someone to get my bag, and I told them to leave as soon as they’d gotten it, because I couldn’t handle any of my peers seeing my like that. probably because I felt extremely vulnerable.

I never swore at anyone. I can remember not wanting to, because I didn’t feel that they deserved it? Like, I didn’t want to take my pain out on them. Very strange.

They didn’t give me any panadol or nuramol or nurofen (pretty sure that isn’t how you spell it but eh). I can remember that, because they said that it might react badly to whatever drugs they gave me in the hospital.

When my mum got there, we went over to the car and I put my seatbelt on myself bc im independant like that, before I rolled my head back and scream-said to my mother to hurry up please I feel like I’m dying. Because she was talking to my teacher.

At that point I was being a melodramatic shit, because my pain level I think? was a four, unless I moved my arm, then it jolted into a six.

Anyway. I sung/murmured hamilton songs really fast as we drove the like, five minutes to the hospital because that helped distract me from the pain.

When we got to the hospital and the emergency room, we ended up waiting like 20 minutes which were all hell. My dad came at one point and I told mum he needed to leave because I couldn’t handle having him there. Not for any bad reasons, just that I fucking hated dealing with people and if I had to deal with him I’d cry.

I didn’t cry at any point during this, which was weird. I didn’t like that.

Someone gave me two panadol or something, which didn’t help in the least. They got mum to fill out an acc form - I can remember her asking me things. The pain was bad, like a constant throbbing that was there. I’m pretty sure I started not being there at some point during the time I was waiting. It was easier than dealing with it all, because there were people staring at me and my arm and I wanted to scream at them because none of them were as bad as me and why the fuck are you staring at me.

Anyway. When the nurse came - she was really nice - she got me into a room and to sit on a bed, and then we waited for what was maybe half an hour? There was an old guy dying or nearly dying in the room beside mine and I felt like.... weird because of it. It didn’t feel right, that he was dying.

When they got me a doctor - after me scaring the shit out of a nurse who I thought was a doctor  (i still cringe at the memory) - he ws really nice. He was wearing a haiwaiian shirt and was supposed to be going home, and I was quite lucky that they’d caught him as he was leaving.

They got me on some nitrous oxide to calm me down, or to take the pain away.

Now here’s where thigns get a little less linear, I think.

I can’t remember when they put the I.V. in, whether it was before or after the x-ray. The x-ray was hell, because they made me put my munted arm flat on the cold surface of whatever the fuck they were using for the xray. I had dropped the nitrous oxide tube thingy out of my mouth at that point.

The nitrous oxide was nice. It made me feel tired, and when the dude stuck the needle in my arm and then put the I.V. in, I didn’t care about it. I hadn’t been worried before, perse, just uncomfortable because of the whole broken wrist dealie.

Anyway. X-rays. They said I’d broken the tip off my radius. Then the I.V. Then they got an anathesiologist to come in and explain what was going to happen to me.

This whole time they’d explain exactly what they were going to do, because I asked. A lot. I needed to know what was happening so that then I would know what was going on and that was jus tme reiterating what I’d just said ahaha

Anyway. He explained the options, and in the end they decided to give me ketamine.

For those who don’t know, ketamine is a horse tranquilizer. Its also fucking nasty, coming back up from it.

Mum signed a waiver stating that the hospital wasn’t responsible if I died or something.

This was because, as they explained, ketamine shuts off a part of the brain. If too much of it is used, then you die because it shuts off your breathing, your heart, etc. They had shit that would stop that, if anything bad happened. They put electrodes on me at one point. At least, I think that’s what they were called.

They also might’ve upped the dosage, because what could’ve happened was that they fucked up setting my arm the first time, and they had to cut it out and redo it. If they’d redone it, I’d’ve had to go into theatre.

The whole time this was happening I was terrified I was going to out myself to my mum. I have an odd track record of saying weird shit randomly while I’m in pain.

Ketamine also takes you into a dreamland, which is why drug addicts can get addicted. You basically lucid dream, but way more intensely than normal, if you’ve ever ahd a lucid dream. Or it can take you into an absolutely hellish nightmare scape, if you aren’t thinking good things when you go under.

I had neither. I didn’t even know I’d gone under. What happpened was that they put the ketamine in the I.V., and a minute late I was out.

It felt like blinking. When I opened my eyes, it was like in movies where they blink and its a new scene each time.

Blink. They were moving me to the x-ray. My head ached. My eyes wouldn’t focus. Someone was talking about their car.

Blink. They were moving my arm.

Blink. They were moving me back to the room I’d been in.

Every time I moved my head, it just. It was on another side. I couldn’t focus my eyes for three quarters of an hour. I felt tired, and sleepy, and like shit.

Thye got me to sit up at one point. I nearly vomited. They gave me a pill. It was chalky and the taste was nasty.

When they got me to move from the bed to a chair, I vomited.

I hadn’t eaten for longer than six hours, at that point. It was bile coming up. It burnt my throat. I couldn’t stop.

When I forced myself to breathe again and stop vomiting, they gave me water and left me for a minute. They had people they needed to get in the room, I think, so I was trying to move. They got me into a chair in a bit that was in between the x-ray room and where I’d been. Mum talked with someone else who was there with her daughter.

The cast was big and white, because of the type of break. It was heavy and they put me in a sling when I left. I was able to walk straight. They’d been concerned I wouldn’t be. I’m pretty sure I thanked everyone who’d helped, if I saw them.

Mum took me to get subway. Then we went home.

My sibling had broken their arm around about a year and two weeks before I’d broken mine. Their’s had been the two bones in their lower arm. They’d had to go into theatre for it and have trauma around it. My parents won’t get them to go to therapy and they won’t go willingly

When I got home, they had a panic attack or some shit and started screaming at me when I was short at them. Fuck them for that.

I went into a room and started messaging my friends. i videocalled them and showed them my arm. i was acting all stupid and weird about it by being really silly and stuff. I didn’t feel like any of it was happening, even though I knew it was. At some point I found out I had the electrode thingies still on me. I pulled them off.

People were so concerned about me, it was weird. I ended up responding to them individually as opposed to not. Someone thought that it was a joke and that everyone was lying about it. I gave them a play-by-play and they believed it then.

Even weeks after it happened, it still felt vaguely not real. The first time I cried about it was seven days after, when I tried and failed to make homemade macaroni and cheese.

I learnt that the chunk of bone beside the wrist - the one down at the top of the ulna - had completely seperated from the rest of the bone.

All the wrist bones and muscles had pulled back, which was my wrist had been so weird.

Everyone who helped me was really nice. I’m glad that they were nice, because I got told later about doctors who were bitches and were in the emergency department. Also got told that ketamine was really fucking weird for them to be giving me.

I got prescribed Tramadol. Mum and dad wouldn’t let me take any of it. my sibling had been prescribed it when they’d broken their arm. they’d taken it. Apparently tramadol can put you in a depressive state.

i don’t know what would’ve happened to me if I’d taken it at that point. even before the arm my head was in a bad place. I’m better now though.

I pushed through the pain on panadol.

I broke my arm on a friday. saturday, sunday, I spent at home. Monday I went to school. Felt like passing out at some point.

Yeah, that’s basically what happened when I broke my arm

#i needed to type it out idk why #rant #this wasn't traumatic but it was #idk man #this happened last year and i just. My left wrist is now still the crunchiest part fo my body.

[neo-shitty]

reading drown made me remember how much music personally means to me. i used to have a hard time sleeping back in 6th grade to the point that it badly affected my studies bc for some reason im wide awake at night, felt tired but still fully awake which made me unable to focus in school. so of course i researched what i can do since i didnt want to tell my parents (nasa google kaya lahat 😌) long story short, try listening to music daw 😭 so i did bUT since listening to music wasnt really my hobby, i didnt know what type i should start off and at that time, kpop just recently became big LMAO it was like around 2017 i think. so i liSTENED TO EXO since it was the group that i have been hearing around school AHAHAHAHA the song was baby, dont cry btw. it worked surprisingly, music does calm one's nerves. i didnt understand the lyrics ofc but just by the melody, it made everything around me peaceful. whenever i feel anxious, sad, or stressed, music is the way to go :"> SO EON STORY KO PANO AKO NAGING KPOP FAN 😭😭😭 parinig aq ng iyo po 🙇

pero ofc there were times when it was pointless. there were times na listening to music just made everything worse, it would just be another noise that would frustrate me more. kAYA ANG NEED DITO IS ANO TALAGA U KNOW OO ung pwede mong sandalan hahahaha kaso wala ako non :"> so while reading napapa "sige chan ahhaha sana ol sige sana ol may y/n ng buhay nila hahaha" pero real talk, it would be nice to have someone you can share all your worries with without feeling guilty of wasting their time kaya stray kids hopefully you wont be afraid to love someone freely 😌

uy pati nakakaqiqil si jae dito >:( pero no, bias ko pa den siya sa day6 <3 and the scene where chan was guiding reader along while she was riding his skateboard is so cute huhu ,,, lia is the mc in checkmate, correct?

para akong ewan kc you posted this 11 pm right? i always like reading/watching while lying down sO humiga ako kaso pagkahiga ko, inaantok ako agad :"> enjoying something while youre at your most comfortable position feels so ✨heavenly✨ but it makes me too comfy that it drowns me in sleepiness. like i need to sleep muna bago ako maka focus 100% sa ginagawa ko lmao eh since end of the day eon, pagod aq :"< SMALL RANT LNGS KC BIGLA KO NAPANSIN KAGABI HAHAHAHAHA actually pati this afternoon, manonood sana ako hometown chachacha kaso pagkabagsak ko, tulog. kaya tinuloy ko na lang after an hour of sleep huhu

speaking of hometown, im on ep 10 and its the first ep where seungmin's ost was showcased ! im really excited marinig siya later pag finish ko nung ep na eon. BY THIS TIME EP 12 KA NA NOH?? HOPEFULLY EHE EHE and yes justice para sa mga nababastos >:( daming cases here in our school last f2f tbh. ewan like kadalasan, based on my experience, sinisisi nila sa pananamit ng mga babae 👁️👄👁️ i watched a video/show wherein a boy got caught sexualizing ung kaklase niyang girl tas he defended himself by saying na ang ikli ng skirt ni ate girl but thats literally their uniform , scary honestly

pati ify sa ipis, idk why but im more scared sa ipis than mga daga kc naman ang ipis parang gagamba, bigla biglaan na lang mawawala :"> AH SO UN NGA DI AKO NAKAPUYAT AHHAHAHAHAHAHAH PERO WANT KO NA ULE 😭 anong oras ka natulog?

i just realized then, almost all my feedbacks (?) rants abt your works, may included back story ko HAHAHAH like sa obliviate, harry potter kemene. sa on the ride home, yung untog series q. tas dito sa drown -> ^^^ syempre sa checkmate di ako relate kc di pa naman aq pumapanaw Y^Y

btw how was your day? pag gising ko sa umaga dumeretso aq proj, sipag i2. advance happy eating for dinner !

HAPPY CHANNN DAYYY ,, ayos na daw kurtina nila di ko pa nakikita pero inayos daw ni chan 😌👌

- 👻

glad i came home to a whole ass diary entry today omg owo

6TH GRADE HELP ISNT THAT LIKE TOO YOUNG TO HAVE AMNESIA ;n; hala baka magfalse diagnosis ka sa gogol ha, tell your parents next time kung may ano. oh yeah, mas better talaga kung di mo naiintindihan yung lyrics? bc you don't have to think of the lyrics too. music stopped working as a lullaby for me when quarantine started so i resorted to yt vids. but i still go for music whenever my self-esteem is low. noise music really boosts it *u* exo-l ka pa ba now? or you didn't stan? sinu-sino nga pala stinastan mo omg?

dude my story started in g2 when i heard fire by 2ne1 on the MIT top 20 of myx. i was quite a casual kpop fan up until late g10 when i started memorizing members (which i didn't do bc i was really just in it for the music not the groups).

HAJSHJAH truly tho it's nice to have someone around :'( namimiss ko na rin yung time na may 'y/n' ako but it's been so long that i'm fine on my own na HAJHAJ JAE IS MY BIAS TOO BUT ANTAGONIZING HIM WAS FUN. t'was bc of this vid (around the 28:18 to 29:20 mark; literally the inspo for the whole fic). yep, lia's checkmate's mc! the part abt guiding sa skateboard happened to me irl HIHIH #kilig #reminiscing kakamiss f2f

yeah at 11pm. i think i posted it too late bc it's not doing too well notes wise but whatever, it's chan day. HAHAH glad you slept easily though! MY BIGGEST SANA ALL. i slept at 3 na kanina bc i was either too hot or too cold.

how long is the kdrama? also i'm really proud of seungmin for scoring that ost :'( go get it, vocal king. NAUR I DIDNT GET TO FINISH THE ANIME BC I WENT AND WATCHED BSD KDJSKLJ i'll try and finish it tonight (bc i was out the whole day + i might be writing later) i fucking hate men. icb i'm at the point where i'm torn abt having a bf bc i kinda want a man but they're disgusting as hell???? it's hard to find the good ones nowadays.

mga ipis kasi feeling butterfly jsdhjfh at least yung daga aware ka kung asan ;n; IM SCARED OF SPIDERS TOO JDSKFJ wag ka magpuyat l8r kasi monday pero eh depends pa rin sau

oo nga pansin ko din yung back stories but they're interesting to read naman so i don't mind !! SANA DI KA TALAGA MAKARELATE SA CHECKMATE JUSQ do not claim the negative energy from that fic

we went to my mom's office earlier bc she wasn't feeling great and she couldn't come home yet kasi nakabubble siya doon. we just go thome tapos yown diretso answer sa ask HAHAH magtstsaa palang aq mamaya pa ata dinner namin mga 7 pero yeah advance happy eating din sayo!

AND YES HAPPY CHAN DAY <333 lol narealize ko lang both my ults had sunday birthdays this year o.O and OO HAJSHJAH i watched the chan's vlog last night (partly the reason why napuyat ako) and inayos niya yung curtain sa bandang huli <//3 can't tease them anymore HMP

#toff.asks #👻 anon

[themaninflannel]

Orgasms and Cold Pizza (snapshots pt1)

summary: reader met dean senior year of hs Bc she looked out for Sam. She kept in touch with both of them (but more Sam). When Sam goes off to college a sad dean shows up on her doorstep with no warning.

word count: almost 4k wtf

warnings: sad dean, drinking, virgin!reader, smut

A/N: this is part one of a new series im starting that is gonna be snapshots of the reader and deans lives together ~~~~~~~~~~ It may have been two am but I had yet to put down my book, so I was awake when I heard knocking at my front door. I wasn’t going to open it-because hello it was two am- but the knocking kept going so I was just going to tell them off. I opened the door to see a familiar face, and a sad one at that. I blearily rubbed my sleep filled eyes, “Dean?” I’m sure he could hear the confusion in my voice. 

“Sammy left,” He said dejectedly.

Without thinking I reached out for him and pulled him into my arms half expecting him to resist but instead he collapsed on to my shoulders. Releasing him, I nudged the door open a little more and pulled him farther inside. Quietly I led him into the kitchen and handed him a beer. 

“He left us, he left the life,” Dean mumbled.

“Yeah, umm he told me a while ago that he got into Stanford. I kinda figured he might,” I guiltily ran my hands through my hair. 

“He did? He sure as hell didn’t tell dad and me,” he stood up, running his hands over his face.

My legs, working on their own, carried me across the room until I was right in front of him, “Dean. You know he didn’t leave because he wanted to leave you, right?” I said putting my hand on his arm. 

He rolled his eyes, “Yeah,” 

“Hey, I mean it,” My voice was soft but firm. “You’ve always looked out for your brother, he knows that.” I was met with sullen silence. 

After a few minutes of quietly sipping on our drinks he spoke up. “I mean I know this life ain’t easy but college, man!?”

“You know the boy’s always liked school,” I said jokingly, trying to lighten the mood. It did not work. “Alright. Are we getting drunk then?”

“Yep,” he said after downing the rest of his beer, “you got anything stronger?”

“Oh do you doubt me, Winchester?” I got up and opened the pantry to show the assortment of liquor bottles.

“Well then,” he raised his eyebrows as I dropped a bottle of whiskey in front of him, keeping the vodka for myself.

Once Dean had made it most of the way through his bottle he seemed more nostalgic than sad, “Do you remember back in high school…” he paused to take another drink, “when you thought Sammy needed to be taken care of?”

“Hey! In my defense he was very small then! And he did get picked on,”

“Ok, fair enough” he raised his hands in defense, “I’m glad you had his back,”

“Yeah well, someone had too since you kept getting in trouble,” It continued on like this for a while until I had deemed it time to cut Dean off and make him go to bed. “Alright come on, I’ll get you settled in my room,”

Just as I was leaving the room I heard a voice behind me, “do you think he’s gonna come back?”

“Honestly? I don’t know, but I know that just because he went off to school doesn’t mean he doesn’t love you,” I said turning back towards him and sitting on the bed.

“Psh. I know dads not the biggest joy in our lives but why can’t he just suck it up?” My heart broke when his voice cracked. Even in the dark I could tell he was tears eyed. 

“He and your dad have always had a tricky relationship,” I commented, scooting closer to him.

“Yeah,” he scoffed, “you should have seen it the night he left,” I could see on his face that it had gotten bad between them that night.

“I never liked your father,”

“He didn’t like you much either,” he admitted.

“Well, I’d imagine not!” It got quiet as we both remembered the first time I had met John Winchester.

Sam had invited me over to study for a history exam, even though I was a senior and he was a freshman we were in the same class. He was slightly embarrassed to tell me that he lived in a motel but that quickly faded once we got to studying. We were almost done when his brother came back. 

“Heya Sammy,”

“Dean! I thought you were supposed to be gone all day?” 

“Eh, got bored,” he dismissed. Flopping down on one of the beds, opening up a magazine. “Dads gonna be pissed you brought her over,”

“What is your problem with me Dean?” I spoke up, I wasn’t gonna let Sam get pushed around like that.

“I don’t care either way, but dad doesn’t like us having people over,” As if on queue an older man opened the door.

“Boys,” He gruffly acknowledged the boys, not noticing me at first, “who’s this?” He gestured to me, his voice making it clear that there was more involved in his question.

“Oh, umm,” Sam stuttered.

“I’m Y/N, I was helping Sam study but we were just finishing up,” I jumped in trying to help the poor boy out.

“Well Y/N, it’s probably about time you were heading out. I have some business to discuss with my boys.”

In class the next day Sam barely looked at me, and Dean-well Dean never paid me much attention anyway. After the bell rang I ran after Sam before Dean could drive off.

“Sam! Wait up dude,” he ignored me until I was close enough to grab his elbow, “Hey, what’s wrong? It’s like you were somewhere else today,”

“Oh, uh, hey Y/N,” he was clearly avoiding the question. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Dean walk up to the car, seemingly hiding his face. 

“Come on Sammy, get in the car,” As he got in the car I caught a glimpse of a purple bruise on his jaw.

“Um sorry, we have to get home before Dad” Sam explained shyly. As they drove away I connected the dots between Dean’s bruise and their fear of their father. Right then and there I decided I was going to protect Sam as much as I could, I doubted Dean would let me but I knew I was gonna try.

“You should probably get some sleep,” Dean’s voice was hoarse, and much closer than I had realized. At some point we had ended up leaning on each other, slumped in the center of the bed. 

“Alright, but I’m not leaving you here to be sad and alone so don’t hog all the covers,” I sleepily shuffled under the blanket, Dean sliding in beside me. He fell asleep almost immediately, but me? I was laying there trying to wrap my brain around this version of Dean, the version thats cocky and tough I’m familiar with but this vulnerable and insecure Dean is a side I hadn’t seen before. Somewhere in the night we had ended up wrapped in each other's limbs, his head on my chest, his arms circling my waist. 

Dean was still asleep when I woke up; I laid there with my hand in his hair, realizing that this was as relaxed as I had been in a long while and I was in no rush to wake him up. We stayed like that until Dean started to stir,

“Morning sleepyhead,”

“Oh uh, mornin’,” he mumbled, rolling away seemingly embarrassed.

“How ya feeling after last night? You downed most of that whiskey,” I teased, poking his shoulder.

“Ha-shut up, I’m fine”

“Well, personally I am severely under-caffeinated so I’m gonna go make coffee,” I said definitively, pushing myself up heading to the kitchen. Dean got up and followed me, pointedly ignoring how we woke up. 

“You wanna coffee?” I asked, reaching up to the cabinet where my favorite mug was.

“Yes, please,” he said emphatically, running his hands over his face to wake himself up a little. 

“Ok, you gotta tell me more about what you and your brother do,” I slid a mug across the island to him, “I mean he told me a little bit about the life, and you’ve filled me in a little, but I’m curious,” 

“Nah, you don’t need to know how fucked up the world actually is,”

“Please. I already know the world is a flaming piece of garbage, you wouldn’t be bursting any bubbles with that realization,” My voice came out more cynical than I meant. 

“You really wanna know? About all the things that go bump in the night? All the monsters who are dying to eat your face?”

“Yeah. If I’m gonna have to live in the world with all that crap then I’d like to at least know what’s what,” I didn’t expect him to actually tell me, but he launched into stories about the creatures that he and Sammy have fought. We talked for hours, me asking questions, him telling stories. By the time he seemed to have run out of stories and he deemed I was sufficiently afraid it was early afternoon.

“Shit, is it already three? I should get on the road soon,”

“Do you have to? You can stay here another night, ya know,” I hoped he would stay.

“Are you sure? I don’t wanna over stay my welcome, I already showed up out of the blue-“

“Dean. You’re staying.” I interrupted, “you can show up any time, I like the company,” 

After convincing him to stay we ordered pizza and settled in for a chill night of movies and beer. 

After we stuffed ourselves with pizza and watched as many shitty comedies as we could handle, we were tipsy and sleepy and I made the executive decision that it was time for us (well, at least me) to crash for the night. After telling Dean he could watch whatever he wanted I headed into my room, put on comfy clothes and got curled up under the covers. A while after, when I was just starting to drift off I heard the door open,

“Hey, Y/N? You still awake?”

“Hmm? Yeah,” my voice was thick with sleep.

“Can I- um can I sleep in here again?” He sounded so timid, not at all like the over confident persona he normally put on.

“Of course, come ‘ere,” I smiled, pulling the blankets down on the other side of the bed. He took his jeans off leaving him only in his boxers and climbed in next to me.

“You sure this is ok?” He asked again before fully relaxing.

“Dude, if I wasn’t chill with it I wouldn’t have said yes. Plus, you slept in here last night anyway,”

“I know, and we ended up the way we did this morning and I just- I wasn’t sure-“ I cut him off by pulling his arm over my side and shushing him. With him as the big spoon I think he had gotten it through his head that I wanted him there. 

“Hey dean?” He grunted in acknowledgment, “You show up here after almost four years, I just- I gotta ask, why here? Why did you come to my door?” He was silent for a long time, I thought he may have fallen asleep.

“Honestly?” I nodded, “I don’t know, you were one of the few people who knew Sammy like I did, and who knew about our lives,” he paused, “I think it just seemed the least complicated place to go.” He finished quietly.

“Fair enough, I’m glad you did though. I worry about you boys,” we fell back into a comfortable silence before he spoke again.

“Ok, my turn to ask something,” I twisted until I was facing him.

“Go for it,”

“Why is it just you living here? Doesn’t it get lonely?”

“Sometimes, but I like having the place to myself,”

“I always liked to think that after Sammy I left, you would have shacked up with some dude and lived the apple pie life,” 

“Oh please. You know that’s not my style,” I scoffed, “and as far as me and dudes there’s never been anyone of importance,”

“Really? No one?” He seemed surprised by this.

“What? Is it so hard to believe?” 

“But why?”

“You’ve met me, you know feeeelings aren’t my thing,”

“Ok but like what about hookup or something, you did go to college right? Isn’t that part of college life?”

“I don’t like doing new things with strangers, it is what it is. I’m not upset about it,” I shrugged.

“Just wouldn’t have pegged you as a virgin,”

“Oh I give off slutty vibes do I?” I teased him.

“No- I just- never mind,” I could practically see him mentally smacking himself in the forehead.

“Good night, Dean,” I rolled back over and he wrapped his arm back around my waist.

The next morning I woke up with Dean still pressed against my back, I don’t know if we moved at all in the night. I just knew that I slept like a rock. And that there was something poking me in the back. It took me a minute to figure out what it was but when it dawned on me I couldn’t help but giggle a little bit.

“Hey, ummm, Dean?” It came out higher than I meant it to.

“Hmm?” He sleepily responded, “oh shit, Y/N I’m sorry, I didn’t mean- it just-it does that sometimes,” He moved away from me covering his face with his hands.

“I didn’t say I was upset about it,” I slowly pulled his hand down until he could see me.

“What…. Y/N..? Huh?” You’d think he was the virgin not me.

“I said, I wasn’t upset. I just thought you should know that your dick-“

“Whoa! Ok, enough,” he cut me off. Turning his body to face me, our faces closer together than before, “are you serious?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” My voice came out thin and whispery, but I leaned towards him anyway. I could almost hear my heartbeat in my ears, but the second that his lips touched mine that was the only thing I could focus on. After a second he pulled back with a questioning look in his eyes, I nodded and he kissed me again. Harder this time, his tongue finding its way into my mouth, my hand to his hair, his hands...everywhere. We stayed like that for a few minutes before he pulled away again, this time taking his whole body a few inches away from mine pulling a needy whine (that I will deny ever happened) out of me.

“Wait...wait, we can’t do this,” he said breathlessly.

“And why the hell not?” 

“You’ve never…your first shouldn’t be me,” 

“Why not. You’re not a stranger and there doesn’t need to be feelings. Checks all my boxes,”

“Oh wow, you sure know how to make a guy feel special,” I rolled my eyes and pulled him so his face was close to mine again.

“We don’t have to if you don’t want to, but I want this. You’re not taking advantage or anything like that, ok?” That was all he needed to hear before pushing himself so he was hovering over me, mouth back on mine, hands in my hair. Soon his mouth moved along my jaw and down my neck making sounds come out of my mouth that I didn’t think I could make. I could feel him smirking as he moved back up to my jaw. I could feel his hands start to migrate under my shirt, stopping just below my rib cage. I knew he was waiting for permission before going any farther so I pushed him onto his back before tearing my shirt off and leaning over him so I was on top. 

“No bra?” He questioned his hand automatically going to my boobs, flicking one of my nipples.

“Who sleeps in a bra?” I tried to say it jokingly but his mouth found my other nipple making it turn into a gasp. I tried to get back at him by grinding my hips down on the bulge that was now under me. He made a delicious gasp/moan sound that just made me never want to stop. I slowly shifted myself, kissing my way down his chest, giving attention to each nipple as I passed it, eventually making my way down to his happy trail and the edge of his boxers.

“Ahh…..sweetheart… you don’t-you don’t have to do that. Not... for your first time,” 

“Oh, but what if I want to?” The words came out sugary sweet, just the thought of what was about to happen was enough to dampen my underwear. I looked up at him for permission and he nodded, his eyes closing when I turned my attention back to the waistband of his boxers. He moaned loudly when I placed soft kisses on his fabric covered length before I pulled his shorts down and he kicked them the rest of the way off. Once he was fully exposed I took a second to admire what I saw; the toned muscle of his chest, the soft skin on his stomach, all the way down to his perfectly pink cock standing up out of a bush of dark curls.

“Like what you see?” He teased.

As an answer I leaned back down and licked a stripe from his balls all the way up to his leaking head. I earned a gasp and then a groan when I took the whole head into my mouth hollowing my cheeks and taking in as much of him as I could, one hand coming up to pump the part that I couldn’t fit in my mouth and the other reaching up and playing with his balls. 

“Holy….you shouldn’t be..how do you….” He gave up trying to make coherent  sentences when I took his dick out of my mouth and sucked one of his balls. Once I had given them enough attention I moved back to his shaft, lavishing it in kisses and licks.

“Ok...I’m not gonna…. you gotta stop… if you want this to last…” he brought his hand to my face and pulled me back up so he could kiss me. His other hand came around my hip and flipped us so he was hovering above me with a shiteating grin on his face. It was his turn to tease me, he moved down so his face was right above my belly button. His fingers hooked into the waistband of my sleep shorts pulling them off. As soon as he had me naked he went back to kissing and licking everywhere he could, after some pleading from me he finally moved back between my legs where I needed him most. He licked a stripe between my folds, giving extra attention to my clit. I could feel the knot in my stomach tightening already, my breathing getting faster. He was still swirling his tongue in circles when one of his large fingers pushed into me making me moan and arch my back, pushing impossibly closer to his face. I could feel him smiling as he continued to work his finger in and out of me, eventually adding another curling them upward reaching that one spot that I could never quite reach myself. The knot in my stomach tightened even more, my hips bucking on their own.

“D.. I’m close..”

“Let go baby, I wanna taste it,” that’s all it took for me to cum on his face. Blissed out and breathing heavily I almost missed Dean looking smug wiping my juices off of his chin. 

“We don’t have to keep going…” he said and I think he really would have been totally fine stopping if I asked but I was nowhere near ready to be done.

“Condoms are in the nightstand,” was my bold way of saying I wanted to keep going. I could tell it caught him by surprise but before I could say anything else he had plopped himself on top of me to get to the drawer.

“Eager much?”I laughed as his full body weight was still splayed over me. He rolled his eyes and kissed me again rolling the condom on. I could feel his hard length resting against my stomach as we kissed, all tongues and teeth. We had gotten past the timid part and were both ready for more. He shifted and I could feel the tip hit my sensitive clit making me gasp, his cock slid between my folds and pushed into my entrance, he stopped making sure I was good before he slowly pushed the rest of the way in. Once he was fully seated inside me, his head fell down on my shoulder, his lips moving on my neck. I got impatient and moved my hips making him slip out a little bit, Dean took the hint and started to move. His pelvis hit my clit every thrust and he one of his hands came up and played with my nipple, I was overwhelmed by all the new sensations that I didn’t even realize I was making sounds that I had never made before. With each movement dean hit that spot inside that made my eyes roll back, before long I could feel the knot tightening again. Deans thrusts started to get shaky and uneven,

“I’m not gonna last…” he grunted, his face buried in my neck.

“Me… neither,” my hips bucked and with one more snap of his hips I came undone. That was all it took for him to spill himself into the condom. He collapsed next to me throwing the condom in the trash.

“Well….” I exhaled, breathing heavily.

“Yeahhh…” deans breathing matched my own.

“Soo, I’m not a virgin anymore,”

“No you are not,” He sounded real happy with himself. And honesty, and couldn’t blame him.

“Job well done I’d say,” I reached over to high five him. 

We laid there in exhausted silence for a while before either one of us had enough energy to do anything.

“Well, I am starving and there is cold pizza in the fridge,”I declared as I got out of bed and threw on some comfy clothes. I was halfway through my second piece of cold pizza when dean came trudging out of my room. With my mouth full of pizza I gestured to the open box.

“So…” Dean awkwardly rubbed the back of his head, “you’re really good with what just happened?”

“Why wouldn’t I be? Organs and pizza is a good way to start the day,”

“I don’t know, I mean it was your first time?”

“Oh D, are you worried I’m gonna fall in love with you?” I mocked.

“What no- I just- I was checking on you is all!”

“Ohhh little defensive much? Maybe I should worry about you falling in love with me,” I teased waving pizza in his face. 

When we had finished making fun of each other the topic turned serious.

“So, you gonna head back to your dad today?” I asked.

“Yeah, I should actually head out soon,” he said quietly. We chatted for a while longer before he decided it was time for him to go. He gathered his things and made his way to the door,

“Just one thing before you go,” I stopped him in the doorway, “give your brother a call, ok? He walked out on your father not on you,”

“Yeah, I will. Thanks sweetheart,” he hugged me and then he was gone. It had been four years since I met him in high school and I wondered if I would ever see the green eyed hunter again. I sure hoped I would. 

#dean x reader #dean x reader smut #dean x reader fluff #dean winchester imagine #mine #supernatural #supernatural fic

[black-streak]

Saturday Night's Alright for Fighting (but Sundays are meant for rest) - The Beginning

 Part 1

So I came up with this partially fleshed out idea on discord and decided to try writing a prequel of sorts to my HCs? Anyways, Mari is like 20ish and Tim is around 25 here. Pre-relationship.

~---~

 Marinette would forever be grateful that she had memorized the layout of the manor back in her first few visits. Otherwise she would have been absolutely lost by now; her sleep addled mind unwilling to give a single thought as to where she was walking. The only thought she could process was a cry for coffee whispering like a mantra through the back of her mind.

Turning a seemingly random corner, she found herself in the side kitchen standing in front of the coffee maker, already holding a fresh pot of the heavenly smelling life elixir. Okay, that's a bit dramatic, but whatever, it's 3 am and she's entitled to her theatrics.

Pouring a cup into her favorite mug, having had it appear before her despite not recalling retrieving it, she held it close and made way to the sit-in table, slumping down into the closest seat.

 It took about 10 minutes and half her mug down to realise she wasn't alone in the room. Turning her head slightly, she spotted Tim typing away at his laptop, his own mug just to the right of her arm.

   'When the hell did he get there?' She couldn't remember hearing any footsteps or the coffee pot pouring but then… she also didn't remember turning it on…. 'He's been here the whole time, hasn't he?'

  Turning back towards her own, she finished off the cup and got up to retrieve the pot, moving over to fill both of their mugs before returning it to its holder only to drop back into her seat beside him, leaning closer to see what he was working on.

"Thanks."

   Jumping slightly, she just blinked at him for a moment, then gave a slight nod.

"Couldn't sleep?" Tim glanced at her, inquiry quiet and half incoherent in its murmur.

Humming softly she considered before truthfully admitting, "Rarely can."

"Damian asleep then?"

"Probably."

"You're not sure?"

"Didn't want to check his room and bother him if he was. Plus, he'd be cranky if I woke him for no reason."

That seemed to catch Tim's attention for whatever reason, because he turned his eyes off the document to look at her fully now.

"You don't sleep in his room?"

"Nah. I tend to cuddle in my sleep and he can't stand being confined like that. Puts him on edge, I think."

  That only prompted an even more perplexed look from him. Unable to process that with so little sleep, she turned back to looking over his shoulder, trying to read what Tim was working on. Giving up, she looked back up to him.

"Whatcha working on?"

"Eh, just some last minute paperwork for a new deal WE is suppose to be negotiating next week."

"... At 3am?"

"You judging me," he asked, lifting one eyebrow slightly in amusement at the hypocrisy.

"You said the deal is for next week."

"It is. But if I get it done now, it's one less thing to stress over at the last second."

"But if you read it on a sleep deprived mind, you're less likely to recall anything you typed up. Meaning you'll have to reread it…. And depending on how dead tired you are, might have to rewrite it. Who knows what sleepy you thinks makes a good deal?"

"Hey! Sleepy me is perfectly capable of working without my brain's input."

Leaning over the counter to rest on her crossed arms, Mari tilted her head slightly to pout up at him.

"Yes but perhaps it'd be best to do so tomorrow and get your brain's input at the same time to save time? Come on, just put on a video or something mindless. I'll keep you company."

  Her logic was sound. There was no argument Tim could give that would actually work in his favor on the matter, but hearing a slight sigh of defeat still gave her an immense sense of victory. Peering over at her, he decided turnaround was fair.

"Alright… but if we're not going to work, you should be trying to sleep. Im cutting you off." He said, pulling her mug out of her reach only to find it empty. Sighing, he moved to set it in the sink only to see her take up his own, carrying it over as well.

"In that case, so should you," she smirked, washing out both mugs and setting them to dry before taking up his laptop, grabbing his wrist, and tugging him towards the living room.

'How did I not see that coming? That was the obvious outcome… when Was the last time I slept,' Tim wondered, not really paying mind to Mari as she situated them both on the couch, turning the screen to face them both from the coffee table, youtube pulled up and a vine compilation being queued up to play.

…..

  Half an hour later, the two were passing jokes back and forth, sleepy giggles and references whispered into the dark room, laptop forgotten and asleep before them, both too out of it to think of moving back to their rooms. Only to be broken up by a mewling yawn, Mari slumping further down, sleep finally pulling at her.

  It didn't quite hit Tim that something about the situation was slightly off till Marinette curled into him from where he slouched into the corner of the couch, head dropping onto his chest. 

Ah, Fuck. Damian was going to kill him.

Nudging her slightly till she hummed to him, he tried to gently wake her back up fully.

"Mari, shouldn't you go back to your room now?"

It had the opposite effect.

  Mari sprung up, eyes wide, blush flushing up her cheeks, seemingly not having realized she had been cuddling up to him till just then.

"I am so sorry. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable! I keep forgetting you guys like warning beforehand. Either way I should have asked if you minded though. That was so invasive of me and the last thing I want is to invade your space when it's not warranted or wanted. I promise it won't happen again Tim, I'm so sorry."

Finally stopping to take a deep breath from her rambling, Tim jumped in, panicking to think he was causing her distress.

"No no, Marinette, it's fine! You're a very tactile person and frankly I don't mind it. I just know Damian wouldn't like finding you cuddling up to me, or anyone for that matter, especially in the middle of the night when he thought you were in your room, that's all."

That seemed to stop her in her tracks. Settling back down, she fixed him with a thrown look. 

"I mean… I know Dami can be protective at times, but I don't think he'd be that upset by it. Maybe a touch put off, but I think he'd tease me more than anything?"

Now he was thrown for a loop. This went against everything he knew about his little brother… that could only mean bad things.

"... Really."

"Yeah, as I said, he knows I'm a cuddly person when I'm tired. Plus, your his brother. At least he knows and trusts you. He'd just make fun of me for being so clingy. Sorry again about that by the way."

Narrowing his eyes, Tim couldn't see a hint that she was lying, but still he had to push to be sure. The last thing he needed was Damian to feel like his position was being threatened. That's what sparked their rivalry the first time after all.

"Hmm... I took Damian to be the possessive type. Especially over someone he was seeing. Trust me, Mari, he's not going to like his girlfriend cuddling anyone. Especially not me." 

"Holy Tikki, what?!"

"Tikki?"

" You think… you think Dami and I are dating?!?!"

"Be quiet, you're going to wake someone up!" He rushed out, trying to cover her mouth, only for her to evade, eyes blown wide with shock but still aware enough to dodge his grip.

"No, hold up. You seriously thought we were together?" She spoke in a startled tone, grabbing at his hands to make him stop reaching at her face and concentrate on her words.

Finally giving up on keeping her quiet, Tim actually started processing her words.

"You're… not?"

"No! Of course not! Did he say we were?"

"Well no but… I just assumed. He doesn't like anyone and yet acts like your his personal sunshine."

  Giggling, she shook her head, settling back into the couch at his side.

"Yeah, that's only in front of others. Says no one needs to know what a chaotic being I am. His words not mine."

"Oh. So you guys really aren't..?"

"Nope," she chuckled, popping the p, slowly curling back into his side.

Stopping abruptly, she pulled back a bit and glanced up to him, blush dusting the top of her freckled cheeks. 

"Is.. Is this okay?"

  Now assured that he wouldn't be promptly attacked just for letting Marinette near him, he couldn't see why not. Plus, she obviously took comfort in it and needed sleep. Who knows if she'll find any alone in her room. Wrapping an arm around her and tugging her slowly down, he nodded.

"I already told you I don't mind. Plus, your warm."

Humming her thanks, she burrowed herself under his chin and promptly passed out, Tim following only moments after.

…..

Tim woke up late in the morning, having slid down the cushion and twisted up his limbs with Marinette's who was still half on top of him. By some stroke of luck, they hadn't been disturbed by anyone thus yet. (Dick had already passed through and took a picture to send to the group chat. Who knew the way to make Tim sleep was to pass out on top of him?)  Feeling her shift, he looked down to see bleary blue eyes blinking back at him from under messy bangs. A small smile lit her lips and she moved up giving a light kiss to the underside of his jaw, before slowly getting up.

"Thanks Tim. Probably the best sleep I've had in a long time. We should nap sometime…. Maybe watch a movie first," she suggested, flushing but sending a coy, eager look his way.

Nodding, he could only think one thing.

'Welp. She's going to be the death of me."

#timari #timinette #dc x mlb #maribat

[ain-t-bovvered]

15x03 Commentary

  bunch of tired and caffeinated Europeans ( plus a sleepy American) scream together, and then die and try to get on with their day ( lol AS IF)

Hello and welcome:

@purpleskiesandcherrypies  (Nat)

@dean-winchesters-bacon  (Kat)  

@waywardbaby  (Zee)

@ain-t-bovvered  (Giulia)

Opening my phone in the morning: 

 What the fuck happened

Kat: You don’t wanna know

Kat: You’ll find out soon enough

Zee: Yeah ok I went to tumblr. Why did I do that ?

Kat: SHAME ON YOU

Giulia: BECAUSE U HAVE 0 PATIENCE

Kat: If you wanted to know I could have told you

Zee: I just opened the freaking thing and glanced at the first thing on my dash. Clearly, it was the wrong thing to glance at.  I yeeted out

Giulia: I DON T WANNA BE HERE

Giulia: will I cry

Kat: Do you want the honest answer

Giulia: No

Kat: Didn’t think so

Giulia: Im so tired already

Zee: Oh shush

Kat: Don’t I know it

Nat : ok i'm read

Nat : or not . whatever

Giulia: I’m not!! Help

Giulia: Ok im ready

Kat: Question first!

Zee: Uh oh

Giulia: I don t like it

Kat: With the download, do y’all have the green CW screen first?

US: no

Giulia: * stressed* Why 

Kat: Because I watch my recording, I don’t download so I want to make sure I start in the same spot

Giulia: Oh ok.... Geez

Zee: Are we ready?

Nat : Are we all not ready

Kat: I think we are right?

Nat : 3

Nat : 2

Nat : 1

Nat : go

Giulia: Ghost’s town again yay

Nat : Unpopular opinon: I hope Ketch dies

Kat: Sames

Giulia: Well he done anyway so

Kat: ...

Giulia: GREAT

Nat : idgaf about Ketch

Nat : AH GHOST TOWN THE 3RD YAY I'm so happy

Kat: Love these random ass hunters

Giulia: I see white pants I think Jensen jib10

Kat: SHUSH

Nat : Legit wanna throw my laptop away

R: The "Rafforza l'incantesimo"

my italian ass: GASPS

Giulia: Look at Rowena pretty dress

Kat: Yyyeessss that dress

Giulia: Also she brought a change

Zee: Came prepared

Nat : She's the thing that keeps me watching at the moment

Kat: Of course, it’s Rowena

Nat : UGH I felt that

Giulia: I felt dean

Zee: For me it’s deans legs and cas’s fed up face

Giulia: That place again

Giulia: What

Nat : Insert Joey gif: I'M SOOOOO SICK OF THIS TOOOOOWN

Giulia: Noted

oh look me walking with my tall friends

that door banging scared the shit out of me

R: Prendi cio che è debole, rendilo forte. D'una piuma d'oca, fai una spada.

Take what’s weak and make it stronger. Of a duck feather make it a sword

Giulia: OH ITALIAN

Zee: Is she speaking Italian?

R: Dalla nebbia, cemento possente, impenetrabile, inflessibile.

From fog, mighty concrete, impenetrable, inflexible

Giulia: SHE IS

R: Rendilo forte.

Make it stronger

Giulia: And pretty well too

Kat: It’s not working Sam

Zee: Connection lost. Check server

Giulia: Oh no

Kat: And down she goes

Giulia: Thanks

Zee: A real drink

Giulia: Lol

Kat: This look 🤣🤣🤣

Giulia: Gotta use it

Kat: Love the silent conversations

Giulia: Fuck off belphy

Nat : Ah angry ghosts . What else is new

Zee: I kinda love his sass

Kat: Same but I still want to stab him

Nat : Wow, imagine this was the last three episodes. It's over in a freaking ghost town. I'm still salty, can you see?

Giulia: Yeah that would fucking destroy me

Kat: Not at all you hide it so well

Giulia: That’s not who we are

Zee: Go Dean!! Tell them

Giulia: AWE SAM

Kat: Aw Sammy

Giulia: SAM

He’s so gentle . Such a big gentle giant, I love him.

Zee: Control your face Sam

Kat: That doesn’t happen. At all.

Giulia: YOU SHUSH THE FUCK DOWN

Giulia: that strap tho

Nat : Not gonna give up

Kat: He never does. Take a knee

Nat : He's like a leave in the wind, give up not giving up give up not giving up

Zee: Is he us?

D: Oh, I'm not freaked. I'm angry, okay? I'm pissed.

Giulia: I M PISSED TOO

Kat: THAT PISSED WAS SO COUNTRY

Kat: Jensen your Texas is showing

Giuls: And I’m loving it

Giulia: I need more then

D: Th-This... This sloppy-ass ghostpocalypse... that's Chuck's ending? No. No, I don't think so. After everything that he has put us through? I'll be damned if I'm gonna let some glorified fanboy get the last word.

Giulia: SLOPPY ASS GHOST APOCALYPSE

Nat : Sloppy Ass Ghost Apocalypse. Yeah, that's about sums it up

 Zee: Glorified fan boy

Giulia: dean speaking up for the fandom 

S: Anything useful in there? R: Not a thing.

sure

Nat : You don't have eyes

Nat : snorts

Zee: You don’t have eyes

Giulia: Ok that was funny

B: I got an idea, but, uh... you're not gonna like it.

Giulia: DON T

Giulia: TOUCH

Giulia: MAH BABY

Kat: You okay bb?

Giulia: no  I’m fear 

Kat: What

Giulia: Because i just remembered the season trailer. And i wanna be wrong

Zee: Surprised moose

Nat : Did he just say, minions

Nat : But that would mean that Belphy would stay on earth?

Kat: No he’d be in hell

Nat : Ah

Giulia: Ah

Giulia: ... I don t like this

Kat: DIBS ON SAMUEL

Nat : Dibs on Samuel

Giulia: Dibs on samuel

Zee: Dibs on Samuel

Nat : Hey

Giulia: AH sam witch confirmed

Nat : I'm calling Dibs on Dean then

Kat: NO

Giulia: Cas🙋🏼‍♀

Zee: Was waiting for Kat

R: Whoever does this, they'll be unprotected. No salt circles... all manner of angry spirits right up in their grill.

Nat : So yeah, Belphy wants Cas

Giulia: NO Don t look at my bb

B: I want protection.Muscle.

D: Yeah, Cass’ll go.

C: Well, it sounds like I don't have a choice.

Giulia: DEAN

C:

Zee: Dean threw him under the bus

Giulia: ugh

Kat: Oh babe

Giulia: COME ON

Nat : Dean would literally do anything now

Nat : That's how desperate he is

Kat: YUP

Nat : I see more of Ketch than I ever wanted

future me: ain’t that right

Zee: His underwear are ridiculous

Kat: SNORTS

Nat : Kill him

Giulia: Jesus lady there is an apocalypse going on

random demon I don’t care about: And you won't give them up? Not for any price?

K: Not at any price.

Giulia: Aw ketch

Kat: ya happy Nat?

Nat : AHHHHH OMG YES

Giulia: Eh

Giulia: We are at 2 spn final season deaths already nice

Zee: Casually strolling the graveyard

B: You know, your part in all this is, uh, pretty dangerous.I mean, you could die, get trapped in Hell. Your friends might never see you again. Funny, 'cause, uh,they didn't seem to think twice about it.

R.U.D.E.

Nat :lol Cas

Giulia: AHAHAHAH

Zee: Ok

Kat: Hhhhhhhaaaahahhaaa

Giulia: DO I LOVE HIM

Giulia: witch stuff

Nat : And what's Dean's role in this?

Nat : I think I got distracted

Kat: Outside by the hole  

Giulia: Being grumpy 

Nat : Ah where he should be 😉

Kat: Ready and waiting lol

Giulia: Well you’d want him in

Nat : Well, not the whole of him

Zee: FOCUS LADIES 

Zee: so fed up

C: Yet you needed protection, "muscle", for this?

B: Okay, you got me. I wanted company. I wanted your company. What? Shouldn't we at least try and be friends?

Nat : Belphy is Giuls

Giulia: WOW

Nat : You would want Cas' company too

C: You are not growing on anyone. Sam and Dean are just using you. Don't mistake that for caring about you, because I can assure you they don't.

B: Wow. You learn that the hard way?

Giulia: AWE NO BELPHY SHUSH 

Kat: Cas should know

Nat : Sush

Giulia: OH THAT REALLY STUNG

C: You're wearing Jack, who was like a son to me, like a coat.

Zee: Like a son to me

C: It's an abomination.

Giulia: im sad. I’m so sad

Zee: I think you should wait

Kat: It’s gonna get worse bb

Giulia: DON T PUSH HIM

Nat : Why does Cas has to go in first

Giulia: what else is new

Zee: The muscle

Nat : Ah

Nat : Do we trust him?

Kat: WHAT DO YOU THINK

Zee: No

Giulia: I hate how I can recognize enochian

Giulia: I trust bel so little

Nat : I don't think he should say that out loud

Kat: SUNG

Giulia: Oh

Zee: What?

Giulia: WHAT

Kat: SING IT CAS

Giulia: OMG WHAT

Nat : Don't do it?

C: ♪ Toh-luh dah... ♪

Giulia: OH COME ON

Kat: That’s all you get lol

Giulia: fuck  Oh great that was the “musical”

Nat : Ah Dean's at the hole

Nat : snorts

Kat: There might be a couple seconds more I can’t remember

Nat : Sam just thinks that he should be with Dean when this all goes to shit

Nat : And I cry

Giulia: ...great

Kat: Nope

C: ♪ ... mee ♪

Zee: Like an angel

Nat : WELL

Giulia: Oh fuck off

Zee: Oh fuck

Giulia: Well

Nat : Who is she again

Giulia: Ardat Some demon who wanted to kill bel

Nat : Ardat Lili is a dangerous storm spirit from ancient Sumeria, a vampiric succubus who visits men at night

Giulia: Thanks Hermione

Kat: Thanks google

Zee: Nerd

Nat : At least I know how to work google. Unlike the majority, it seems

Giulia: well I’m doing 3 things at the same time

Giulia: Everybody wants to rule hell. Nobody learned a thing from Crowley

Zee: It’s been a while since Cas got smacked

Giulia: He’s a fucking angel

Giulia: OF COURSE

Nat : THERE WAS A VACANCY. Pfffff

Kat: Ugh he’s so annoying

 Zee: That close up Giuls ? 

Giulia: I KNOW EXCITING

Nat : Ah the wind in Dean's hair

Nat : I need that close up Giuls   

Kat: The wind in Cas’ trench

Nat : lol in Cas' shirt

Giulia: that hand holding

Kat: 😭

Giulia: I’m having anxiety

Zee: We see

Kat: YOU SHOULD

Nat : Shouldn't Cas go out before it closes. Before Dean throws that bomb in?Ah, too late

Giulia: I can t take it

Giulia: DEAN.  DEAN FUCK

Zee: COME ON

Kat: He’s got business

Giulia: CAS

Giulia: what

Kat: IT’S NOT HIS FAULT AT THE MOMENT

Giulia: What is happening

Giulia: I’m so angry at everyone

Kat: CAS IS MAD

B: It's me... Jack.

Giulia: JACK SHUT UP

Zee: NO

Giulia: OH NO

The struggle Castiel going through is painful ok. I hate it , HATE IT.

Nat : Ah so Jack is gone?

Kat: His body I guess

Giulia: I HATE THIS

Nat : For good?

Giulia: FUCK NO

Zee: WTF

Giulia: WHAT WAS THAT SIGH

Well this destroyed me .

future me: AH JUST YOU WAIT DUMB BITCH

Kat: That wasn’t Jack

Nat : Because he's still in the empty, right? He's forgotten there

Giulia: FUCK

Kat: Death has plans

Zee: CAS

Oh you can see the moment Castiel feels like he’s got nothing left . great.

Nat : What

Giulia: ROWENA

Nat : WHAT

Kat: JUST FUCKING WAIT

R: Won't need that where I'm going.

Nat : Ah fuck

R: Magic can do anything, Samuel , can contain anything... even the vast multitudes of Hell.

Giulia: I HATE THIS

Zee: WHAT?

Giulia: NO

Nat : If I pay the price

R:"Death Is an Infinite Vessel."  A spell so simple it draws its power from its caster.Just two ingredients.

S: Rowena, why didn't you tell us?

shut up Sam 

R: Because, dear, the first ingredient is my own still-coursing blood. And the last is my final breath.

Giulia: I DON T LIKE THE PRICE

Nat : Rowena loves them to much

Zee: Hold on HOLD ON

Giulia: i love her so much

R: I'll absorb the ghosts and demons and return them to Hell.In time, my body'll break down, and they'll be released right where they belong.

S: No, no. No. Rowena... no.

Giulia: GREAT

Nat : NO AH

Giulia: I DON T WANNA SEE SAM CRY

R: To perform this spell, I have to die. And it has to be you that kills me.

Nat : Right, in every death book of Rowena, she's killed by Sam

Kat: POOR SAMMY

Giulia: OF COURSE GREAT

Zee: HE GOT OUT

Kat: SEE HE GETS OUT

Giulia: BUT AT WHAT PRICE

Kat: MIGHT BE BETTER IF HE STAYED THOUGH

Giulia: WHAT ?! YIKES 

R: My real, permanent demise is at your hands. It's in Death's books.

S: Yeah, well, you know what? Screw the books.

Us: *LOUD GASP*

D: Wh-What about the Crook?

C: It's gone. It was destroyed.

That what is so ..... wow

R: I don't care about anything enough to take my own life.Not you, your brother... not even the world. But I believe in prophecy. I believe in magic. And I'm here, and you're here, and everything we need to end this right is in our hands.I know this in my bones...it has to be this way. Do it! Kill me, Samuel!

Nat : I'm-

Kat: 😭😭😭😭😭

Giulia: I’m

Zee: INDONT WANNA WATCH

Giulia: I CANT TAKE ALL THIS

Nat : Fuck, Sammy

Giulia: OH MY GOD SAM

Nat : Sam is too fragile for that

Kat: I BELIEVE IN PROPHECY AND MAGIC 🤣😭😭

R:   I know we've gotten quite fond of each other, haven't we? But will you let the world die, let your brother die, just so I can live?

Giulia: NO SHUT UP

Zee: Shut up Rowena

Giulia: NO

Giulia: NO

Nat : Dean's pissed. What else is new

Giulia: NO NO

Nat : NO

Giulia: SAM

Nat : NOOOOO

Giulia: FUCK

Zee: God damn

Kat: NNNOOOOOOOOO

Giulia: STOP IT

Kat: She says Dean’ll die and Sam gets stabby

Giulia: NO ROWEEEENAAA

R: That's my boy.

Kat: THATS MY BOY

Nat : Of course

Giulia: WHAT IS THAT FACE SAM

Giulia: FUCK OFF

Giulia: FUCK THESE EPISODES

Nat : OH NO

Giulia: SHIT

Kat: IS IT BETTER OR WORSE THAN BORING

Nat : SAMMY CONTROL YOUR FUCKING FACE

Giulia: IM NOT READY

Giulia: NO DON T SAY THAT

Kat: JUST LIKE CROWLEY

Giulia: COME ON

Zee: CAN THE MUSIC NOT

Nat : CAS

Giulia: CAS BB

Giulia: WHY AM I SO TIRED

Zee: IMAGINE HOW SAM IS FEELING

Nat : HENLEY

Giulia: oh dean is in the nude

Zee: BUTT NAKED

Kat: SUCH GOOD SINGLE LAYER HENLEY PORN

Giulia: Oh he was crying In his room

Nat : Does Sam actually fit in the bed?

Giulia: Ah yeah ketch too

Kat: Okay I know it’s super sad but these boys are looking GOOD

Giulia: I KNOW AND IM SANGRY

I’M STILL MOURNING OK 

C: How's Sam?

D: Not great.

Kat: Get ready babes

C: Sorry about Rowena.

Giulia: No i refuse

Zee: WHAT?

Nat : NO

Giulia: Fuck

Nat : Don't you throw this in Kat

D: You're sorry? Why didn't you just stick to the damn plan?

Giulia: I DON T WANNA WATCH 

C: He wanted to eat every last soul to take over Hell, Earth, and every...

D: Yeah, and we would've figured it out... after. With Rowena.

OK but listen...figuring it out later could have been worse , although it’s true that Rowena was a real great asset. Idk man I’m hurting

Giulia: i can feel dean’s anger

Nat : Dean control your anger

C: Something went wrong. You know this. Something always goes wrong.

D: Yeah, why does that something always seem to be you?

Kat: Oooohhhh boy

Nat : WHAT

Giulia: NO

Nat : DID YOU JUST SAY

Giulia: DEAN  U FUCK

you can see the shock and hurt and heartbreak on Cas’ face but it’s fine , it’s fine WE’RE FINE

C: You used to trust me, give me the benefit of the doubt. Now you can barely look at me.

They both so hurt and I cannot bear this

Zee: Can’t breathe

C: My powers are failing, and... 

yeah can we talk about that ? becasue...why the fuck

C: and I've tried to talk to you, over and over, and you just don't want to hear it. You don't care.

Nat : The eyeroll

Giulia: I HATE THIS SHIT

Kat: I know bb

SO ANGRY

C: I'm... dead to you.

SO SAD

Nat : The eyeroll

Giulia: I HATE THIS SHIT

Kat: I know bb

Giulia: IS THIS FANFIC

Giulia: I READ THIS 364830173 TIMES

C: You still blame me for Mary.

Giulia: NO

C: Well, I don't think there's anything left to say.

D: Where you going?

IS THIS FANFIC

Nat : CAS IS GOING AWAY

Nat : CAS STAY

Kat: You knew it was happening bb

Zee: WHAT

Zee: THE

Zee: FUCK

C: Jack's dead. Chuck's gone. You and Sam have each other. 

Giulia: NO THIS SONG

Nat : I know

Kat: I know

C:  I think it's time for me to move on.

Zee: STOP HIM YOU ASSUOLE

Nat : I knew it but I'm not happy about it

Kat: Group hug

Giulia: WELL DEAN LOOKS REGRETFUL SO AT LEAST THERE’S THAT 

Kat: As per usual. He lashes out then is sorry about it.

Nat : That's human

Giulia: HEY YALL CAN TALK TO MY CORPSE

Giulia: TRAILER TIME BECAUSE IM IN DENIAL

Giulia: MEH

Nat : Yeah well, the next ep is kinky

Giulia: gag me

Kat: Yup

Giulia: My heart is broken. This ep destroyed me

Kat: I know bb

Zee: DONT LIKE THE PROMO

Giulia: FUCK OFF THE PROMO I DON T GIVE 2 SHITS ABOUT IT

Kat: But Jensen directed

Zee: Dean was exceptionally assholy

Nat : We'll get Lumberjack Dean

Kat: That too

Giulia: dean is on a real fine thread

Giulia: I think that’s when there is samifer

Kat: Well the red was there And it was red when we see bearded!dean

Giulia: I currently don’t give a shit honestly

Kat: They’ll make up by the end

Giulia: Yeah i wanna see when

Giulia: Whatever I’m so tired

Giulia: Fuck off

Giulia: Im also pretty real sad.  And that hasn’t happened in long on spn

Kat: Jensen said in an interview it hasn’t happened yet so we’ll see

Zee: We all are

Kat: I know. I knew exactly how y’all would react

Giuls: Ok but it’s not even about destiel. I just hate to see them fight instead of working together

Giulia: My stomach hurts too now. I should go. Kat go the fuck to sleep. And nobody talks to me about the ep

Kat: I AM TALKIN TO ZEE

Giulia: Hush i can still hear you over the sound of my soul crying

Zee: In my defense, I told her to sleep

Kat: Give your soul a tissue

Kat: She did. Many times. I didn’t listen like usual

Giulia: That vinyl now looks real good to ease my pain. Not gonna lie

Zee: Take me with you. I’ll probably be a mile back but still

Giulia: I rewatched the end briefly because I’m a dumb bitch.  And yep, i can confirm i screamed into my pillow and got actually teary eyed and boi am I dumb to get actually tears for a tv show jesus and it’s only ep 3 but the threat of the ending is getting tight around my neck already and this is stupid, and fuck. And bye

Giulia: People are hating over everything right now

Kat: Yup. People hate Cas, people hate Dean, people hate the town (@Nat )  Plus, I think it, being the last season, makes people lash out more.

Nat : Hey

Kat: Did I lie?

Nat : No but it still hurts

Kat: Well they’re away from it now At least there’s that

Giulia: Why, where are they Idk

Kat: Do I have to say it?

Giulia: Say what

Kat: Where people are. I don’t think you wanna hear it

Giulia: Exactly

Kat: So we won’t say it lol

Giulis: For what it’s worth all the people throwing hate at Dean and Castiel can all suck my dick.

If you want to get tagged send an ask HERE or to @waywardbaby or a smoke signal, idk whatever I’m tired af.

TAGS: @wayward-angelgirl  @destiel-honeypie      @mariekoukie6661      @dragontamerm       @closetspngirl    @rainflowermoon     @mattiecat       @bunnybaby121115  @aliaitee2    @jacks-word-of-the-day     @4evamc       @dammitsammy     @legendary-destiel   @winchesterprincessbride    @destielhoneybee     @ravenhg @evvvissticante @emoryhemsworth​

#Episode commentary #episode 15x03 #supernatural 15x03 #15x03 commentary #Jensen Ackles #Misha Collins #Jared Padalecki #ruthie connell #rowena #castiel #dean winchester #Sam Winchester

[imnotcameraready]

chivalry is dead (7)

A/N: y’all ., ., .,,. . ..  we’re finally getting to the Good Shit. my hand was literally Over the “post” button and then i remembered “oh shit this is supposed to be touchstarved roman”, so, uh, that’s not reflected in this chapter at ALL. but it’s still filled to the brim with angst. but like, hurt comfort angst. i think i can call this a hurt comfort, right? right

WARNINGS: cursing, arguments, yelling, like a lot of yelling, Complex Emotions, self-hatred (implied) — if I missed anything, please let me know!!! <3 <3

Words: 6575 

Pairings: im proud to say that this has some Logicality. only 20,000 words into the story and we’re finally getting small tastes of ships. still DLAMP endgame but by god. 

Part 1 (chivalry is dead) — Part 2 (i’m wishing) — Part 3 (the bells of notre dame) — Part 4 (honor to us all) — Part 5 (i’ve got no strings) — Part 6 (god help the outcasts) — Part 7 (go the distance)

AO3 link!

@starlightvirgil @forrestwyrm @daflangstlairde @marshmallow-the-panda@askthesnake @k9cat @patromlogil

i hope y’all like this one!!! <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 

______(tumblr’s not letting me put a line so ive manually created it)______

It seemed that, without Roman’s focus, the Imagination sustained a regular day/night cycle. Logan made a mental note about it as they watched the sun go down behind the forest hills, perfectly in tune with his internal clock’s knowledge of the real world’s time. The sky, however, was darkening more rapidly than it would normally. While walking through the forest, he hadn’t noticed any incline changes, so perhaps the forests were thicker than he’d originally thought. The map didn’t indicate that, anyway.

It was a fascinating place, the Imagination. It seemed semi-sentient — at least, based on how the Playwright described it and from what they’d seen so far. Logan regretted not asking to see more of it when Roman was….

No. He’d ask Roman to show him once Roman had returned. His chest hurt a tiny bit to think of it. Nothing was out of reach.

He faced forward again, marching silently. Patton was humming, had been for the whole trip, humming Disney songs.

The Child was staring at Logan still. It was unnerving, for many reasons (A child? Roman was a fucking child? Why was he staring so much? How much less formed were each of the Romans? How did they select what they looked like? Who was the Child based upon? What did he believe?) so he looked away.

“Stop,” the Child patted Patton’s back, “Stop here.”

“Ooookay,” Patton stopped, and Logan stopped behind him.

They’d been walking towards the castle this whole time, away from the sunset. It was clearly huge now, with multiple large spires with red and glittering gold flags. Patton thought it looked straight out of a medieval movie, almost too grand to just be based on Disney alone, though it did bear some resemblances to the castle in Disneyland. It was incredibly pretty.

Oh, sure, he’d seen the Imagination before. Patton and Roman had sat at the window in his room and Patton would listen to Roman as he talked about the various worlds he created. Sometimes it was a balcony with seats and a tea set, but he liked the window sofa more, since he and Roman could sit in each others’ laps and bundle up beneath a pile of blankets. Patton could recognize this castle from a distance. He’d seen this setting before, with the forest and large lake and glittering dual rivers that Roman’d named and then renamed and named again, though Patton couldn’t remember what names he finally chose.

Logan seemed surprised by it all, though, and Patton didn’t want to make it seem like he was rubbing his friendship with Roman in his face. Plus, he’d never been inside. Things were a lot bigger up close.

Yeah, he could see how Logan kept frowning around the world. How he’d been glaring at the Child for the whole walk. Patton’d made a pun — “This sure is a magic kingdom, eh?” — and he hadn’t even groaned!

Patton shifted his weight on his feet, casting Logan a worried look as the logical side inspected the building before them. Whatever was eating at him, he hoped it’d settle soon, because Patton knew they’d need Logan thinking properly to get Roman put together.

“We’ve gotta go in here,” the Child pointed to the building.

It was an unassuming door with two steps leading up to it, attached to a building that looked exactly the same as the others. Besides the door was a wooden sign, fixed to the stone wall, that read “Art Museum (Ages 3–6)”. It was a fairly unassuming building, similar to the other stone buildings to the left, right, and other side of the road.

“Okay,” Patton reached out and touched the door’s handle, just to be interrupted by the Child waving his arms up.

“No! No, no, not yet!” he put his hands out.

“Not yet? Well, what’re we waitin’ for?” Patton put his hands on his hips, watching the Child with a small smile.

“The sun is lowering. It will be night soon,” Logan added, giving the sky a quick glance again.

“But the Artist can’t know that you’re Dad and Mister Logic,” the Child said, mirroring Patton’s hands-on-hips position.

Logan, on the other hand, crossed his arms in thought. “Why can’t he know? Is he a danger?”

“Nah,” the Child shook his head and pointed a finger at Logan. “The Artist doesn’t like you most.”

Logan exhaled sharply. His brow furrowed, nose scrunched, as he processed THAT. Of course,the Playwright supporting him meant there was a counter. Of course Roman didn’t harbor only positive feelings towards him. Logan knew his and Roman’s opinions differed on a multitude of topics, often resulting in unpleasant quarrels. He knew. And, yet, it hurt. “Come again?”

“The Artist doesn’t like you. Don’t worry, he doesn’t like Mister Anxiety either. Or Mister Deceit. He kinda sorta likes Dad?” the Child made a so-so motion with his hands, before letting his shoulders drop with an exaggerated groan. “Not really. He doesn’t like Dad. It’s okay, he barely likes Thomas!”

Logan looked toward Patton with a frown, now thoroughly confused, and was greeted with a similar confused pout. There was a part of Roman who just didn’t like any of them. Not even Thomas. That upset Patton fairly well, but Logan….was almost relieved.

The Child waved his hands again, sticking them up in between the two adult Sides. “Hey! Like I said, that’s okay! We just gotta walk around him and he probably won’t notice you.”

“Do you think he won’t notice that three people have entered his house? Especially two adults. Two full Sides,” Logan couldn’t keep the disbelief from his voice.

If the Child noticed, he didn’t let on. “Yep! He barely looks up from the whatevers he’s working on, anyway,” he bounced on the balls of his feet, “Maybe….hm.”

He looked up at the sky and rubbed his hands together. Above them was a thick cloud. It would probably rain that night; they were still looking for him, anyway.

The Artist was probably getting worried. Right? Curfew was coming up soon and if Child got caught, Thief and Bard would be upset, and so Artist would be upset, too, right?

“We have to go in. If he asks, uh,” an idea popped into the Child’s head, and he snapped his fingers. “You can say you’re Dad guy and Teacher guy!”

Logan’s eye twitched. “Do you mean the characters from Thomas’ short videos?”

The last semblances of seriousness Logan held inside himself was shattered by the Child’s enthusiastic nodding. “Yeppers! They’re really nice! Teach is really good at making Dad laugh, and since this all happened, they’ve been—”

“The Shorts characters are alive inside the Imagination,” Logan wasn’t even trying to hide his disdain anymore.

He’d been half angry, half curious as they marched through the sleepy town. He could accept magic, sure, he could suspend his disbelief. It made sense that the Dominoes guy was in here. That was backed by science. But what in the name of Newton did the Shorts characters—

“Logan,” Patton held his hand and gave it a quick squeeze, “This is the Imagination.”

—okay, really, why the FUCK were the Shorts characters real in here?! — and the Child was now just rambling on about characters who were actually fictional. Characters who were characters. Scratch his curiosity from earlier, the Imagination followed no reason and he wanted out. Immediately.

Patton squeezed Logan’s hand again, in a rhythm, one two three four, tight, and raised his other hand toward the Child, who was still talking.

“Hey, kiddo,” the Child immediately quieted, looking up at Patton, “This all sounds fun, but can we talk more about it when we’re inside?”

Patton immediately regretted interrupting him. The Child’s lip curled inward, eyes growing wider as he nodded silently. He looked at Logan, who was scowling at the door, and wilted.

“Yeah. Not important. Okay,” the Child took the door handle and flung it open.

Before Patton could respond, he darted in. Logan looked at Patton, scowl replaced with a confused raised eyebrow, oblivious to the quiet tension he’d missed while internally monologuing.

Patton just slouched. The Child was more skittish than he’d anticipated.

The museum was dark and dusty, though not unintelligible. Patton entered first. There were drawings everywhere, some on actual pieces of paper, some on torn-out notebook pages, some on the wall itself. All of which were children’s drawings, of course, scribbles and splotches of paint. In the halls were also some sculptures on pedestals, most seemingly made of Playdough.

He stopped by a drawing of a house, two windows and a door, and read the placard beside it. Patton was pretty sure he had the same drawing in his room, tucked away in an old photo album.

“Thomas and Roman Sanders. House 41, 1994. Crayon on cardstock.”

Patton felt tears coming to his eyes. Thomas was only five, oh those were good times, learning about the world around him! Such a soft era. And Thomas’ grown so much since then, too.

This was an interesting place for someone to live, but considering his name was Artist, it made sense for him to live amongst his work. Patton turned around, a bright smile on his face, and motioned Logan to join him. “Logan! Come look at the art!”

Logan was standing just inside the door, which was closed behind him, eyes examining the exhibit. It was disorganized and clearly unkempt. Roman must not have visited in a while. Or maybe he didn’t have a curator for this museum. Before he could respond to Patton’s call, the Child’s voice echoed from down the hall.

“Are you coming?”

Logan and Patton shared a look, one disgruntled and one sheepish, and hurried down the hall lined with childish artwork. There were more houses, some family drawings, a fun looking self portrait with bright colors.

“Hurried” is an overstatement. Logan had to pull Patton away from a drawing on more than one occasion.

“Down here,” the Child’s whispers bounced along the walls.

They entered a room, still lined with drawings, and found the Child standing in front of one of the artworks. He held out a hand to them. “C’mon, we’re going in,” he said.

Logan squinted at the painting in question. Yes, painting, done in “Crayola Washable Paint on Cardboard,” according to the placard beside it. “Thomas and Roman Sanders. House 118.”

He looked at Patton for support that this was absolutely ridiculous, but was only met with another shrug. “It’s the Imagination,” he said, as though that explained everything, “Don’t think too hard, or you’ll get a headache.”

Too late for that, Logan thought, though he stopped himself from pondering. Instead, he grit his teeth and held Patton’s arm, determined to get to the bottom of this figurative rabbit hole. Patton himself took the Child’s hand.

The Child gripped Patton’s hand and leaned toward the painting. He pinched the painted door’s handle, tugged.

They all felt a pulling sensation, the Child pulling Patton who pulled Logan.

And then there was a door before them.

It was as though someone poured white paint all over their surroundings, from every angle, wiping away the museum they’d come from and leaving a blank emptiness behind them, all within less than a second.

Logan stared at the door. Then he turned, slow and steady, overlooking the blank white expanse. Like an empty page.

Something wasn’t computing. It’s the Imagination, he repeated in his mind, like Patton’d said earlier.

Directly behind them was the only piece of “world” they could see other than the door. It was another painting, of the museum, of the room that they’d just left, hanging in the middle of nothing.

Social realism, Logan thought. The painting’s placard read “Roman Sanders. The Art Museum repaint, 2019. Oil on canvas.” A reverse portal, created recently. Logan almost wanted to touch it and see how dry the paint was.

“C’mon, we gotta go inside,” the Child whispered, giving Patton’s hand a tug.

Patton, in turn, tugged Logan, who turned back around. “Sorry, this is just….” fascinating? Interesting? Enchanting? Something I would like to experiment with Roman on further? “Different.”

Patton watched the Child as he watched Logan. Roman was clearly still in there, Patton thought, and he didn’t want to be. And, to be frank, Patton understood that feeling. There were many days where he wanted to curl up into his hoodie and be young again, if only to hear a good joke once more. Those were the two-cookie kinds of days!

Maybe Logan couldn’t see what Patton was seeing? The Child’s big wide eyes, staring at Logan and Patton as though searching for approval. Or how he tried so hard to ignore Logan’s obvious contempt for the situation. It was obvious that the Child was actively trying to ignore it, but Patton didn’t miss how he flinched at Logan’s tone. The Child wasn’t naïve, not entirely — in certain turns of phrase and side-glances, the Child revealed his thirty years of life experiences.

But the Child also didn’t seem to notice that Logan wasn’t angry about the world. No, Patton thought as Logan turned back to the museum painting quickly, he was more upset at himself for not being able to understand it.

“Different,” Logan repeated, brow furrowed. It didn’t feel like the right word. He wasn’t usually one to have vocabulary troubles, but he couldn’t find a more adequate word.

It satiated the Child. Or, rather, the Child was thinking of something else. His hand was stiff on the doorknob. Patton leaned in, letting go of Logan finally to put both hands on the Child’s shoulders. “Go ahead,” he whispered. He hoped the Child could feel how much Patton loved him.

Perhaps he did, because the Child calmed down. Enough for him to open the door.

The most notable thing was the mess. There were a lot of things inside that door. Canvases, sketchbooks, pens, pencils, paint sets, notebooks, cups of water, all in piles or scattered about the floor. Some canvases were hung on the walls, too, and some were laid flat on the ground. Others were stacked atop each other or leaned in bunches against the walls. There was a clear path through the mess on the floor, that branched to the stairs on the left and then into the kitchen on the right. Logan could see a drawing tablet over there, too, propped against the wall. Where the laptop was, he couldn’t tell. Patton could see that most of the paintings were unfinished. Whether it be sketch lines still showing or just clearly half-painted, half-white canvases, not a single finished piece was in this clutter.

The second most notable thing was the person painting.

Another Roman — the Artist, most likely — was sitting on a stool in front of a painting on an easel. It was also only an assumption that he was another Roman, because he absolutely did not look it, clad in a white hoodie covered in paint splotches and red sweatpants, hood pulled up and covering his hair. The only thing that indicated his Roman status was the golden waves adorning his sleeves, the same as the waves on Roman’s crest.

He held a large painting palette in his right hand and a brush in his left, dabbing oil paint against the half-finished canvas in front of him. Another work in progress, it seemed.

The clutter and the painting didn’t bother the Child. He closed the door behind himself, being careful to not slam it, and cleared his throat.

The other Roman didn’t move nor speak. Just kept painting, dabbing his brush on the palette and swiping it along the canvas. The painting was unfinished, but it looked so far like an impressionist piece, Logan thought.

The Child coughed again, yet the other Roman didn’t flinch.

“I’m back, Arty,” he said.

“I heard you,” came the impatient reply, snappy and fast, the Artist not turning to speak to them, “Who’s with you?”

“Dad. And Teach. Dragon was mean today,” the Child was playing with the hem of his shirt

“Mhm.”

“It’s curfew. They couldn’t go back to their houses.”

“Mhm.”

“So they’re gonna sleep here. I’ll keep them in my room.”

“Mhm.”

The Child took Logan and Patton’s hands into his own again and pulled them toward the stairs. “Good luck with your painting,” his voice teetered off into silence as the Artist failed to turn again.

Patton opened his mouth, but the Child squeezed his hand and shook his head. Logan took a little more tugging, as he stood by the bottom of the stairs, trying to look at all the paintings. Some were paintings — oil impressionist, pop art, surrealism and cubism, even some De Stijl paintings — some were simple figure drawings on lightly-crumpled paper, some even….was that a painting of Virgil?

The Child tugged harder and Logan stumbled after him.

They made it to the top of the stairs. The Child let go of Patton and opened the door, ushering both of them in before slamming the door shut behind himself.

This was probably the most regular room they’d seen so far in the Imagination. A small twin bed sat in the corner, with a big canopy and fairy lights overtop. There were streamers and drawings and posters hanging all around the walls, even some stickers and some drawings done directly onto the wall. A wardrobe sat in the corner farthest from the bed, a desk and vanity mirror besides that, and five bean bags were arranged in a circle around a circle rug in the middle of the room.

There was an air of magic around the room, too. The fairy lights bobbed up and down slowly, despite being hung on wires, and the clouds painted onto the ceiling seemed to move. The ceiling was fairly low, too; Patton reached up, eyes stuck on a cloud in the shape of a heart, and found that he could actually touch them. The heart swirled around his hand, glowing light blue before dissipating entirely.

“Sorry about him,” Patton and Logan looked down at the Child — he’d gone to the wardrobe and was taking off his cloak, revealing a plain white shirt with the crest’s sun emblazoned across his back. “Artist’s, uh, not a people person.”

“So we saw. His work, however….it’s breathtaking,” Logan stepped aside as Patton went for one of the beanbags, “I didn’t realize Roman was that much of an artist.”

The Child snorted. He sat down on one of the other beanbags and started untying his shoes, chubby fingers unlacing them down a few notches. “Yeah, well. You never seemed interested. No one was. Arty doesn’t like leaving his art all alone, so ever since we formed he’s been in here with it.”

“Yeah, you said somethin’ like that.” Patton crossed his legs on the bean bag, leaning forward on his elbows toward the Child. “The Playwright also said something about everyone having different thoughts on what’s best for Roman.”

“Playwright!” the Child tossed his shoes into the corner behind the door and laid back in the bean bag, spread out with his arms open. “Oh my gosh, I haven’t seen him in a while, is he okay?”

Logan let his shoulders loosen and slouch. It….did feel good to unwind, after the events of the day. Maybe the adrenaline and shock were wearing off finally. He sat down on another bean bag, bending his knees as though he were in a normal chair. “Yes, he is fine. He is, ah, backstage, as he called it.”

“Yeah, I thought so. Artist doesn’t like Playwright at all,” Logan and Patton shared another confused glance at that, “Thief says it’s ‘cause he doesn’t like mister Logic, but I think he doesn’t like you ‘cause he doesn’t like Playwright.”

“Why doesn’t he like the Playwright? That seems counterintuitive, to not like yourself,” As soon as the words left Logan’s mouth, he realized how hypocritical it sounded. And how obvious the explanation was.

Patton seemed to notice as well, because he grimaced, putting a hand on top of Logan’s knee. The Child, however, just shrugged. “Well, I don’t like all of me, you know? I wanted to figure out what parts of me I could live without, but every part of me has an opinion about what part’s important.”

“I?” Logan asked, softer now.

The Child nodded. “Roman. I,” he made a gesture up at the air, and it reminded Patton a little of the hand flip Roman typically did when rising. “I’m Roman but I’m not Roman.”

“How does that work, kiddo?” Patton coaxed him.

“It’s like….” he trailed off, resting his hand on his chin as he thought. After a few quiet moments, he continued.

“Okay,” The Child sat up and patted his own chest. “Me. I’m the Child. AND I’m Roman. I’m all….”

He flopped backward again onto the bean bag, making vague gestures with his hands as he wrestled to find the words, only to find that there were none. No words truly.

The Child let his hands fall onto his stomach with a groan, staring upwards. Patton and Logan shared a nervous glance. It was clear something was bothering the Child, something integral to this Hunger Games of Romans situation.

“Take your time, kiddo,” Patton tried to comfort him, but his words seemed to fall on deaf ears.

The Child was just looking up at the sky ceiling. After another few seconds, he heaved a sigh.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it? The sky?” Logan and Patton both looked up as well.

“With all the clouds that look like pretty things. And even if they don’t look like things, they look soft and fluffy and wonderful. And then, when there aren’t clouds, it’s the most beautiful shade of blue or a dazzling red, like how a nice summer night makes you feel?” The ceiling had been full of fluffy white clouds, meandering across the painted blue expanse, but as soon as the Child mentioned “dazzling red” the clouds began to glow pink as the ceiling’s paint color changed to red. He clapped.

“Or, or! Even better, sometimes, when it’s really, really late, and there are stars out? And every star is like a gem on a glittering cloak that the world’s putting on you?” the ceiling changed once more, painted black as the clouds vanished. One by one, twinkling stars seemed to glow from nothing against the ceiling backdrop. In actual constellations, no less.

“It’s all so….” the Child exhaled, “Beautiful.”

Silence followed. All three of them were now laying on the bean bags, looking up at the twinkling stars and the occasional barely visible line that connected them. They just starred, Logan and Patton unsure of how to break the silence, until the Child continued himself.

“That’s what I want Roman to remember,” Patton looked at the Child, who was watching the stars. He spoke with a strong determination, voice set. “That’s what I want to see. The beauty.”

He faltered, closing his open mouth and gritting his teeth. Logan looked away from the sky now, too, and watched the Child as he closed his eyes. Wiser than he seemed. “But that makes me really childish, doesn’t it? If we just see the beauty, then that means we’re ignoring all the bad stuff. And if we’re too childish, we don’t get taken seriously, and we really need to be taken seriously. I mean….”

The Child glanced over at Patton, and he could have sworn that the Child had tears in his eyes. Oh, he hoped he wasn’t crying. Patton reached out, offering his hand to maybe comfort him, but the Child just shrugged, unwilling to look at him anymore.

“We see how you get treated, Dad,” Patton’s brow furrowed in confusion, hand retracting a little, as though the Child’s words hurt. “No one takes you serious and you always have to prove yourself. We don’t take you serious, either, a lot of the time. ‘Cause if you’re childish, then you don’t deserve to be taken seriously. That’s what Roman tells himself. Tells me. But it’s wrong.”

Now the silence was just awkward. Patton lowered his hand into his lap as the Child looked back up at the sky. There was no denying now, now that the Child’s quiet breathing hitched and stuttered, that he was crying.

“It has to be wrong,” he whispered between gasps.

Slowly, the Child pulled his hands up to his face, rubbing his eyes and sniffing into his hands. Patton was going to start crying himself, watching the Child cry. He turned to Logan with a bitten lip. He knew, deep down, that the others didn’t always take his opinion seriously. Heck, it was a running theme! Patton the childish, the inner child, the baby. But Jesus, that was point blank.

“You’re correct, Roman. I don’t always understand you both, but the things I don’t understand aren’t…they aren’t unimportant. Occasional immaturity does not equal insignificant. We….” Logan faltered and looked up at Patton, who was staring at him now, tears dotting his eyes.

They really did walk on him, didn’t they? Logan considered the times he had helped elevate Patton’s concerns, and the situations in which Patton’s concerns were elevated. No one took the puppet suggestion seriously, until it was proven successful, and Thomas himself had to step in to get them to even consider it as an option. Along with that, Deceit was able to mimic Patton by, what? Literally saying he was a fan of cartoons and was silly? It was so easy to character Patton into a caricature of immature glee that he, Roman, and Virgil barely noticed.

That was the insult, wasn’t it. Childish. Not to be taken seriously. Silly and immature. Was that what he thought of Patton?

Patton wiped his tears and looked away. “I….guess that’s true. But hey! That’s what comes with being Thomas’ inner child, isn’t it?” there he went, voice heightening in pitch as he tried to make it sound as though he weren’t so upset with Logan’s silence and the Child’s assessment. “Your dorky ol’ Dad can be a lil’ goofball a lot of the time.”

“Your goofball-ness is welcome, often appreciated. We….do have a lot to learn, about having fun and seeing things anew.”

Patton looked over at Logan, who was watching him with determination. The Child, too, was watching Logan with both eyebrows raised, having grabbed a pillow from his side to press his face into. His eyes were two large spotlights.

“I do not understand the Imagination. I cannot claim to. But there IS immense beauty in this world you’ve created, and I see that it would be a waste to focus on making logical sense of it rather than take in the world around as a work of art. It might be childish, but sometimes….a little childishness is what we need to maintain a healthy lifestyle and a healthy headspace. Your input is appreciated.”

If Roman was having these sorts of concerns, about being perceived as childish or not, then Logan knew it was likely Patton had similar concerns. He chided himself mentally for letting this self-consciousness fester but a direct approach was always the most efficient.

And it was all worth it to see Patton smile and remove his glasses, wiping the tears from his downcast eyes.

“Thank you for sharing your concerns with us, kiddo,” the Child smiled at the nickname and rubbed the back of his neck, turning away for a bit. Patton smiled at him, then at Logan, beaming like the sun. “Logan put it real well.”

Logan fixed his glasses, pleased with himself, and the Child patted his arm. “Thank you, Logan,” he said.

They sat in silence, eyes flicking with new brief understanding between each other, until there was banging from below the floor. Patton squeaked and Logan stiffened, but the Child just groaned into his pillow.

“WHAT’RE YOU TALKING ABOUT UP THERE?!” the Artist’s voice boomed from below.

“JUST TALKIN’ ABOUT THE OTHER SIDES WITH TEACH,” the Child shouted back, voice muffled by the pillow.

“WELL, SHUT UP ‘BOUT THEM! THE DRAGON BITCH’LL HEAR YOU!”

“YOU CAN’T TELL ME WHAT TO DO!”

“YOU BRATTY LITTLE—DON’T MAKE ME COME UP THERE!”

The Child leaned his back, groaning loud and angrily. “FINE! SORRY!”

Logan and Patton exchanged worried glances. Had the Artist heard that whole conversation? They looked to the Child for any thoughts or input, but he just shook his head.

“He won’t come upstairs. Ugh, I was doing real good at not saying your names,” he rubbed his face, rubbing the tears into his skin to hide them, “It’s–It’s like the taboo system. Dragon, he put a curse on your names so all of us can hear it when someone says them. The others aren’t really scared of that, they–they….Artist doesn’t want anyone finding this house. He heard me say your name, mister Logic.”

Before either of the adults could respond, however, there was another crash from downstairs. The Child frowned and climbed off the bean bag, kneeling on the ground with an ear pressed to the rug.

“What—” Patton was cut off by the Child shushing him harshly.

They weren’t confused for long, though, as the voices grew more raised and angry.

“—TOLD YOU—FUCK OUT!” they heard the Artist shout.

“I WILL ONCE YOU STOP TALKING SHIT ABOUT THE OTHERS! THEY’RE IN OUR REALM NOW, THEY COULD HEAR YOU!”

Patton raised his eyebrows. He looked at Logan, who was frowning at nothing. When he noticed Patton, Logan mouthed “Playwright.” He didn’t seem like the type to be so….explosive.

“WELL TOUGH, PLAYWRONG. I DONT GIVE A FUCK IF THEY HEAR ME! I JUST DON’T WANT DRAGON SHOWING UP, THOSE UNGRATEFUL CRITICAL ASSHOLES—”

“THEY’RE MUCH MORE THAN THAT, THEY’RE BETTER THAN ALL OF US COMBINED, YOU STARVING STEREOTYPE—”

The Child stood up slowly, stepping carefully on the rug and sliding his feet along the wooden floor. He slid all the way to the door. As slow as he could, he clicked the lock in place, and let out a breath. The yelling died down immediately to a whisper, as though locking the door disconnected the room from the whole house.

“That’ll keep them out. They’re probably not gonna come up here, can’t get into my room now, but if they find you then we’re all fucked,” he mumbled.

“Language,” Patton mumbled, and the Child giggled at him. “No swear words when there’re children present, you know that!”

“Yeah, yeah—” the Child cut himself off with a yawn, shoulders hiking up slowly.

He shuffled back to the bean bags and collapsed into the one he’d been sitting in. He curled into a ball, huffing a small sigh. Patton yawned, too, and smacked his lips. Logan had to stifle a yawn himself. They were contagious.

It had been a long day. They were due for a sleep, especially after the arduous experiences they’d had throughout the day.

“Y’know, I didn’t think the Playwright’d let y’all in,” the Child’s words jumbled over each other, and he covered his mouth as he yawned again.

“What makes you say that?” Logan pressed.

Despite the tiredness, he knew there was something wrong with his initial read of the Playwright, and this situation didn’t leave space for those kinds of errors. The Child shrugged. “I….from what I know, he’s more….he likes things done his way. He really wants all of you approve of him. Mostly mister Logic, but all of you. And he really, really, really doesn’t like Princey. Him an’ Dragon an’—an’—” the Child yawned again, mumbling the rest of his sentence incoherently, but Logan didn’t process that.

There was another mention of this “Dragon” character. Logan rubbed his cheek, arms crossed on his knees as he ran the new information through his mind. The Playwright was volatile — he scoffed quietly, of COURSE Roman, with his boisterousness and exuberance, wouldn’t be able to contain his energetic nature into something reserved and quiet. He had his quiet moments, but he couldn’t maintain stoicism forever. They would have to assess him again, it seemed.

“I thought….” Patton whispered, and Logan looked up at him.

Patton’s eyes were downcast at the ground, brow furrowed in anguish. He’d thought they’d gotten at least one part of Roman, one bit to understand that they were accepted. That Roman was LOVED, damnit, because that’s what it was! He was loved, Roman was loved, and by God it felt like he’d failed if one of his friends doubted that so much that he couldn’t believe that.

“I’m gonna sleep. Just right here. Y’all can take the bed if y’all want,” the Child’s voice slurred together, halfway asleep already and cutting into both adults’ trains of thought.

Patton sighed. He slowly switched into Dad Mode as he pushed himself up and rolled his shoulders. “Nope. You’re a growing boy, kiddo, you’re goin’ in the bed.”

He stooped down and picked the Child up, chuckling quietly as he groaned in dramatic despair. Still, the Child wrapped his arms around Patton’s neck lazily, snuggling against him once more. Logan crossed his legs on the bean bag and watched as Patton sat on the bed, rubbing the Child’s back, and tried to pry him off.

“You need to get in bed, kiddo,” Patton whispered gently, “You’ve gotta sleep. A prince needs his beauty sleep, right?”

The Child giggled. “I’m not a–a–a,” he yawned again, “A prince! I’m a child!”

“But you’re gonna grow up to be one! You’re gonna grow up to be a great prince, ruling over all the Imagination,” Patton was whisper shouting, putting on a grandiose voice full of gusto.

He mimicked blowing a trumpet with one hand and the Child laughed, patting Patton’s hand down.

“Nuh uh!” he hummed between tired giggles.

Logan stood up behind Patton and gently took the Child’s hands. The Child looked up at him, squeezing Logan’s hands sleepily and giggling.

“You will be a valiant prince,” he lifted the Child’s hands away from Patton, and he took the cue to start tucking the Child into bed, “You will be a prince, lion-hearted and loved. But tonight, you must sleep.”

The Child squeezed his left hand, then his right, and laid down in the bed he’d been placed in. He looked so comforted as Patton pulled the blanket up higher around his face, big brown eyes questioning as he looked up at Logan from beneath the edge of the blanket.

“Will they listen to me?” his voice was thick as he teetered between unconsciousness and lucidity, “Will–Will they care, when I’m a prince?”

Logan nodded at him, and Patton nodded too. They were both sure, sure as the sky is blue. “Yes,” Patton whispered, “Everyone will hear you. And you’ll live happily ever after, my Prince.”

The Child giggled quietly. Slowly, he snuggled into the bed, and his hold on Logan’s hands relinquished, now gripping the blanket as he curled into a ball. Within mere seconds, he was snoring softly.

Patton stepped back and stretched. He looked up at Logan, who was removing his glasses in preparation for sleep.

“Wanna sleep on the floor?” Patton asked, “Or should we stack the beanbags in a square and use those as a bed?”

Logan considered the bean bags for a moment, actually, before deciding the morning back pain wouldn’t be worth it. “I think we can suffer the floor for a night,” he said, taking his coat off and spreading it out on the ground.

Patton followed suit, throwing his cat cloak down and spreading it out like a bed mat. They both slowly climbed to the ground beside each other, fitting themselves into the space that was to be their sleeping mat, grabbing some of the pillows and stuffed animals strewn about. At least the carpet was soft, adding extra padding. They both laid down, heads resting on some of the Child’s pillows, staring up at the stars on the ceiling.

Though they were both tired, Patton wanted to clear one thing up before letting himself drift off.

“....Lo,” Patton asked, voice soft. “Lo, are you awake?”

Logan sniffed. He was actually partway asleep already. “Yes, Pa—er. Patt.”

Patton giggled. It wasn’t always that he got to hear Logan call him by a nickname. He sobered up fast, though. “Did you mean what you said? About…about appreciating the childish things.”

Ah. Logan opened an eye. Patton smiled sheepishly at him.

He still had his glasses on. Logan turned to his side, facing Patton, reaching a hand out and taking his glasses off carefully. He slowly folded them and set them aside on the ground, with his.

“Of course I did. You provide important opinions and insight, often noticing details I….overlook,” Logan rested his hand on Patton’s shoulder, “You are appreciated.”

Patton beamed with a wobbly lip, more tears threatening to spill over. He slowly took Logan’s hand and pressed it to his lips. Not in a kiss, per se, but more to hold him close. To show that he was so thankful, so grateful for this acknowledgement. Plus, he was afraid that the tears would spill if he opened his mouth.

Logan didn’t seem to mind, though his face did turn a brighter shade of crimson, just barely visible in the starlight.

After a few seconds, Patton regained his stability. “Thanks,” he whispered. “We...we’re gonna get Roman back.”

Logan nodded, discombobulated. Patton’s breath on the back of his hand was comfortingly warm. There was that feeling in his chest. What was that?

He let go of Logan’s hand and rolled back onto his back, letting out a sign of contentedness. Their little prince was fast asleep and the next day would bring more trials. They had to find Virgil and Deceit and hopefully the Roman who’d been on the roof. They had to talk to the Artist. They had to confront the Playwright. They had to find the OTHERS and talk to THEM.

And Patton knew they’d be able to face it all head-on. He knew it in his heart. “Goodnight, Lo’. I love you.”

Logan exhaled beside him. Perhaps….things would be okay. He looked over at Patton, whose eyes were already closed, legs crossed and hands interlaced on his chest in a peaceful manner.

There was that feeling again. The data points — he was too tired to be thinking coherently, look at him, applying statistics knowledge to emotions of all things — indicated that he felt warm and fluttery near his lungs whenever he considered the other Sides. It felt as though his lungs were clenching, breathing constricting and carbon dioxide exhalation warming. That couldn’t be literal, though, or else he’d be ill. On this particular adventure, in this particular day, it’d happened a few times.

Perhaps he was just tired. It had been a long day, all of this just in one day. Logan would consider this issue more in the morning. However, he would indulge in the working hypothesis just once, whilst muddled in this warm-chested comforting confusion. “....I love you, too, Patt. Sleep well.”

It may have been a trick of the light or his mind, but Logan thought, just before he closed his eyes, that he’d seen Patton smile at him.

#chivalry au #roman #patton #logan #roman sanders #patton sanders #logan sanders #ts roman #ts patton #ts logan #sander sides #thomas sanders #fic #my fic #virgil sanders #deceit sanders #ts deceit #ts virgil #i mean this is multiple chapters and they might not be IN THIS CHAPTER but they're DEFINITELY IN THE STORY LMAO #they're in the next chapter #god i love writing this #it's incredibly fun #updates might slow because im rolling into finals week #but that also means they might pick up because im going to be procrastinating so hard #/shrug #god i love the child #he's Wizened #he just wants to be a babey #fun author spoiler/reading strat suggestion #pay more attention to what the romans want than how they display themselves

[yoosungs-hairclips]

heya!! i wanted to request hc’s for RFA with a methyphobic mc? i get rlly nauseous and terribly anxious (shaking, stuttering, sweating, tearing up, etc) when alcohol is around me or mentioned. my mom was a pretty horrible alcoholic, and that’s where it sprouted ^^;; my friends and family all think i’m weird for it, but i experienced a lot of trauma bc of alcohol, so it makes me feel rlly bad when they don’t try to understand. i was hoping for a bit of comfort through this!! thank you so much!!

yes of course!!! im so sorry that your friends and family say that, that is totally valid and it’s awful that you have to experience that! i’m super sorry if some of these sound repetitive or basic, i tried really hard to convey how much the RFA would care about you and respect your phobia, but i’m only human haha.

1,899 words, 10,051 characters

Yoosung

it comes out when you’re playing LOLOL together with some mutual friends of yours

one of them mentions how they just got back from buying beer from the nearby 7-eleven and how they’re gonna get wasted later that night

you want to say how uncomfortable you are, but out of fear of seeming “uncool” to yoosung’s friends, you stay silent even though you’ve been talkative all night

after around 10 minutes, the friend actually does bust out some of the beers and starts drinking

that’s when you start to really get nervous

as soon as the match is over, you start scrambling for any excuse to log off for the rest of the night

yoosung notices this, and since you two are literally in the same room, he spins in his chair and starts asking you what’s wrong

you remind him that he forgot to leave the match and it’s still going on,

but he doesn’t care about that dumb game right now.

he just wants to know what’s wrong and what he can do to help

after a lot of hugging, you finally tell him about your methyphobia

he’s a little taken aback, as he’s never heard of it.

but when he thinks about how much his friend was mentioning alcohol he gets

really irritated at his “friend”

you have to tell him that his friend didn’t know and that it’s okay but he still insists on telling him how uncomfortable he made you

after a long back and forth, you realize there’s no stopping him

as if he read your mind, he immediately shoots up to his computer and starts typing

then, when he’s taken care of that, he takes your hand and starts reassuring you again

he’ll never let any mention of alcohol touch your ears again, not if he can help it

and he means it.

he’s really glad that you told him so he can try preventing something like this ever happening again

he never, ever wants you to be uncomfortable.

that’s the last thing that you deserve.

Zen

you’re trying to catch up on social media and your favorite TV shows when you hear keys clicking outside the apartment and the door creaking open

as soon as you look over, you see zen stumbling in

from the look on his face and his posture, it’s easy to tell that he’s had a horrible day on set

you try to comfort him and make conversation, but he only mumbles in reply while getting a beer out of the fridge

moments after he pops it open, your palms start getting sweaty and you freeze

you try to tell him that that makes you uncomfortable, but your voice only comes out as murmurs

“did you say something, jagiya?”

mkfadgmkklgadbmlwfklmbfmklfwkmlbaefl

you try again, stuttering out a more coherent statement on how mentions of or especially the presence of alcohol make you extremely anxious

right away, his eyes go wide and he sets his drink down

he sits down next to you on the couch and looks in your eyes, staying silent but you know what he’s asking

you gulp, take a deep breath, and tell him about your methyphobia and what it means

he has to ask a few questions, such as why this came to be and the like

when you tell him about your mom, he’s disgusted with her

he can’t believe it? how did such a wonderful person come out of such a bad family situation?

you really cannot believe he asked that when he came from a bad family too

after a lot of talking and venting from you, he promptly throws out all his alcohol and promises never to drink any or mention it to you again unless you’re okay with it

if you ever start panicking while eating out he’ll be by your side in a flash, rubbing your back and giving you breathing exercises or whatever you need

he’s 100% supportive of you, and he’ll give up any bad habit he needs to if it helps you at all

Jaehee

it’s a sunday, and a lot of families came to the café after church together

it was packed all day

when you get home, you try to unwind by binging jaehee’s bottomless collection of zen DVDs

she’s a little late, telling you she has to get something from the kitchen really fast and asks you if you want anything

you refuse, you’ve had dinner and you already have water

she understands, and dashes off

after about a minute of you setting up the DVD, she comes back with a cheese plate and a wine glass

as soon as you see the crimson liquid in the glass, your hands start to vibrate and shake furiously

you try to hide it by holding them tightly, but she notices before you tuck them away in your pockets

“is s-something wrong?? did i do something??”

she’s, so worried,

you’re a little hesitant to tell her but you’ve been dating for a few months and you have to tell her eventually, right?

through shaky breaths, you explain your methyphobia and why it came to be,

everything.

she never interrupts you, purely focusing on listening to you until you’re done after about 3 and a half minutes

afterwards, she apologizes for never asking if you’re comfortable with her relying on drinking wine as a stress reliever

she says how she doesn’t blame you in the slightest for not telling her sooner, it’s hard to trust people with such sensitive information and she would have struggled with it too.

you have a really long conversation about your lives and everything you struggle with talking about to others

you both forget all about the DVD

after you tell her that you’re starting to get sleepy, she dumps out the wine, puts the cheese away, and gives you honest to god the tightest hug you’ve ever gotten from someone.

as well as a kiss on the cheek heehee

she gives you a lot more cuddles that night

and when you’re both awake, she delays the shop opening so she can do as much research on methyphobia as a woman could possibly do in one morning

she’s very sensitive about it afterwards, and always makes sure that you don’t get reminded of alcohol (when she can help it)

Jumin

you’re playing with elizabeth the 3rd and waiting for jumin to come home when you get a call

speak of the devil!!

you pick up almost instantly, asking him how work is going and telling him what elizabeth has been doing all day

he lets out a small .. nose exhale? of a laugh before telling you that he actually called you to inform you of a sudden change of plans for the afternoon/evening

you’re really excited! you’re usually just stuck in the penthouse all day, without anything to do

so any chance to get out is a good thing, especially with jumin

right? eh

he continues, saying how he has to go to an event for work purposes

it turns out there’s a nearby wine tasting and there’s a lot of potential customers there

as he went, the smile on your face slowly fell until he said the word “wine” and any sign of joy was smacked out of you

your head started spinning, you were spluttering trying to think of an answer

“o-okay, i’ll s-s-see yo-you the-there”

fuck. shit what the fuck

he notices your panicking, but decides not to say anything and save it for later

“i’ll see you later, yes. have a good afternoon, my love. excuse me.”

and he hung up

and you sat down

and tried to gather your thoughts

fuckkrignnrjgts.df.g.t.gnntghntg/h.mgfnue3rnfnnsae943203t0reend what the, god damn,

you try to rationalize. you don’t have to be there for long. as C&R’s heir’s wife, you have to go to a lot of events

and all you had to was hold on to his arm and look pretty

if just most of the people there saw you with him, you could probably sneak off and go home early

so that’s what you decided on.

you picked out your dress, got one of the maids for advice on accessories, and you were ready to go

you were in the middle of psyching yourself up to leave when the door opened and your husband walked in

he commented on how nice you looked already, and excused himself to go change

it was about 10 minutes before he came back out and started to dial driver kim’s number

you had to say something

“w-wait.”

??

then it all came spilling out, the fact you couldn’t come to the wine tasting, your past alcoholic mother, and your horrible case of methyphobia

jumin stood there paralyzed for about 5 seconds straight before straightening up and

“okay. i’ll see you tonight then.”

??????????? WHAT

you really did not see that coming

he just… accepted the fact you couldn’t go

he could see the surprise in your face

you told him how you really expected him to be more dramatic about it, making a big show about how you had to be there.

“i’m hurt that you thought i would ever force you to do anything you would not like to. your comfort is more important than my image, MC.”

you basically imploded on the spot

jhhohOOOOOH  my god

you thanked him profusely, and told him to have a good time

he gave you a kiss

and then headed out

when he came back, he gave you a lot more affection than he did before

“affection” can mean whatever you want it to 👀👀👀

to be honest, i’ve been thinking for a while and i really just couldn’t think of a scenario about 707 drinking or bringing you into a situation where people are drinking? im sorry, i tried my best doing random HCs i thought of. it’s a lot less coherent than the other ones, but it’s better than nothing.

707

when he finds out, he’s shocked

what!

because you don’t really take medication or anything for your phobia since… you don’t need any honestly, there was no way for him to know via background check

he’s very sweet about it

even though he’s constantly memeing and joking around, he’s extremely cautious making jokes about alcohol

if anyone DARES to make fun of you for it or degrades you

honey

they’ve got a big storm coming

he’ll probably put a photo album of his cosplaying going on their phone for the next few months

lol

this boy understands anxiety, so if you ever are uncomfortable because it’s been mentioned or someone around you is drinking, he’ll either try to distract you with jokes or if need be, ZOOP you out of there right away and calm you down

he’s so much more protective of you, especially in public

if you tell him to stop he’ll stop though

he just wants you to know he’s always there for you

because you’re always there for him

#mystic messenger headcanons #mystic messenger headcanon #mysme headcanon #mysme headcanons #yoosung mystic messenger #yoosung kim mystic messenger #yoosung kim mysme #yoosung mysme #yoosung headcanon #yoosung headcanons #zen mysme #zen mystic messenger #zen headcanons #zen headcanon #hyun ryu headcanon #hyun ryu mysme #hyun ryu mystic messenger #hyun ryu headcanons #jaehee mysme #jaehee mystic messenger #jaehee kang #jaehee kang mystic messenger #jaehee kang mysme #jaehee mm #jaehee kang mm #jumin han #jumin mysme #jumin mystic messenger #jumin han mysme #jumin han mystic messenger

[keelywolfe]

Fic: Hearts and Hopes

Summary:  It's been a long week and Edge is tired. His husband still has a trick up his sleeve but that's okay, he keeps his heart on his sleeve, too. It's a fair trade.

Notes: If you thought to yourself that I couldn’t possibly get more fluffy with this, brace yourself.

Tags: Spicyhoney, Established relationship, Fluff, hurt/comfort

part of the ‘by any other name’ series.

Read it on AO3

or

Read it here!

~~*~~

The monitor screen was starting to blur in his vision and Edge rubbed at his sockets irritably, trying to focus. It was late enough in the day for it to be close to pointless and the stacks of folders at his elbow were a clear sign that he hadn’t gotten nearly enough done over the course of the day. Janice was sorely missed and as much as he wanted her to take her time recovering, he’d be relieved when she finally came back. Working without her was like trying to type with a hand tied behind his back, doable but slow going.

Edge sighed tiredly. He was being unreasonably annoyed with himself and he knew it. Along with missing his assistant, he hadn’t slept well, nightmares lurking in the corners of his sleep. Those dreams always came back when he was stressed. He hated that particular weakness, didn’t allow his nightmares to follow him into his waking hours but still, his sleep was interrupted, and it left him drained.

It was endlessly irritating that his subconscious mind refused to leave the past in the past. Underfell no longer had a hold on his daytime life, when would it leave his nights in peace? The probable answer to that was not one he particularly liked.

A knock on his door made him jerk and Edge swore under his breath. It was nearly time for him to go home, he wasn’t in the mood to deal with anyone else’s problems today and without Janice to run interference, he was going to have to put his own diplomacy to the test.

“Come in,” he called, trying to keep his irritation from his voice.

To his surprise, Stretch poked his head in the door, grinning cheekily. “heya handsome, you about done?”

Edge could only sigh in a mixture of fondness and exasperation. Days after Stretch had promised him to be careful coming down here, if he came down here, which he rarely did, of course that would be when he showed up at his door.

“okay, you can stop with the look,” Stretch chided. Not that there was a look, Edge was certain of that, but Stretch could always read him better than anyone. “i shortcutted into the lobby from the bus stop, as per. no one saw me outside. i even called reception before i did so no one would have a shitfit about me coming out of nowhere.”

“Thank you for your caution,” Edge said dryly, masking his relief that Stretch was at least taking him seriously. “Can I ask why you’re here when I would have been home shortly anyway?”

“you can ask and i’ll even answer,” Stretch grinned happily, rocking on his heels, and Edge waited, suspiciously. “i want you to drive me someplace.”

“That shouldn’t be a problem,” Edge gave him a narrow look. “Where am I driving you?”

Stretch’s grin turned sly and he tapped the faint protuberance of his nasal bone, “now, see, that’s where you’ll need to be patient, babe. you’ll see when we get there.”

For one moment, he considered begging off. Whatever game Stretch was playing was surely heartfelt, but he was tired and wasn’t really feeling up to a mysterious road trip. Janice was supposed to be back next week, and even so they’d be days catching up to the backlog of work.

Tempting, but to do so would steal that look of glee from Stretch, his visible delight in whatever it was he had planned. Stretch would accept it if he asked, Edge knew, he wouldn’t complain or protest, and whatever disappointment he felt would be held back, muted into nothing but dimmer eye lights, his normal exuberance only slightly subdued. Nothing that most people would notice.

But Edge would know.

“Let me pull the car up to the sidewalk,” Edge sighed. “You can see it from reception, and you can shortcut to it.”

“Whatever makes you happy,” Stretch said agreeably, bouncing on his toes as he waited for Edge to put on his coat.

You make me happy, Edge didn’t say, though he did reel Stretch in for a quick kiss, one that was happily given.

He did hope it wasn’t a long drive.

~~*~~

Stretch really hoped this wasn’t a mistake.

For one, he could tell Edge was tired. That was fucking disturbing as it was, Edge was usually a six-foot energizer bunny, his baby could go and go, and usually did. He wasn’t used to seeing lingering weariness in him, the way his eye lights were dimmer than normal.

Yeah, that and the nightmares he’d been having this week, thanks, if Edge thought he was hiding those, he was ever-fucking-wrong, and maybe he didn’t wake up screaming loud enough to peel the linoleum but even still, he wasn’t sleeping well.

Tempting as it was to play the hypocrite card and point out that he’d gotten dragged to a therapist when his nightmares were bad, eh, even he couldn’t pretend it was quite the same. His own issues had always been a little deeper than just a few bad dreams. Not that Edge probably wouldn’t benefit from a therapist; fuck, between him, Sans, and the Fell brothers, they could probably see about getting a group rate, but it didn’t feel like a battle worth fighting.

Not yet, anyway.

So, after spending a few days wracking his brain, trying to come up with something to do for Edge, he’d finally had an idea. Good idea? Time would tell, but he was hedging enough on it to have Edge following the GPS on his phone without letting him see the final address.

The building they pulled into was unimpressive, only two other cars in the parking lot and there was no sign to betray him.

Edge followed him up the walkway, waiting with silent wariness as Stretch knocked on the unassuming door. They didn’t have to wait long for a young Human woman to answer, smiling warmly even though she’d only met Stretch face to face once before, that very morning. They’d known each other on Twitter for a long time and had a pretty good working relationship, and she’d been eager to help when he asked for this very particular favor.

“Hello,” she said brightly, holding the door open, “Come on in, you’re right on time.”

“deena, this is my husband, edge.” Stretch told her as he toed off his shoes. Edge did the same, slower, though he nodded to her politely, shaking her hand when she offered it.

“It’s good to meet you in person, Edge,” Deena smiled. “Just follow me.”

“What is this?” Edge muttered, low enough to only carry to Stretch. His confusion deepened at the sound that was getting louder as they walked down the hallway, whimpers and whines. At the end was a doorway blocked by a baby gate and behind it were crying balls of fluffy puppy, all of them piled together in front of the gate.

“Get back, you little beasts,” Deena laughed, stepping over the gate. She made her way to the back of the room where there was a table laden with items. “You’ll have to excuse their manners, they’re hungry.”

Stretch followed her and, more reluctantly, Edge. The puppies milled at their feet and Stretch reached down to pick one of the squirmy bundles up.

“this is the hearts of hope animal shelter,” Stretch told his husband, petting the eager puppy in his arms. “i post for them all the time on my twitter for donations and adoptions. someone found these little guys in a box behind a dumpster and they’re fostering them until their old enough to adopt.” Without waiting for any protests, he thrust the puppy into Edge’s hands, waiting only long enough for him reflexively catch it before letting go and snagging up another.

“Rus…” Edge murmured warningly.

“it’s not what you think, i promise. i’m not angling for another pet, the chickens are good.” He grinned, nuzzling into soft fur. “but come on, look!”

The puppies looked like little toasted marshmallows, puffy white overlaid with tan, the leftover little ones tumbling around their feet, whimpering and crying. Deena came back carrying a box of filled bottles, handed one to Edge and Rus before gathering up a puppy of her own.

“Here you go, greedy Gus,” she laughed as the puppy latched on to the nipple instantly, suckling hungrily. “They eat so much at this age.”

Stretch offered the bottle to the puppy in his arms, sinking down to sit on a clean spot on the floor. Another puppy took the opportunity to clamber into his lap, and Stretch laughed, snagging another bottle and trying to feed two at once.

It was worth all the effort, all the worrying and planning, to see Edge shifting to sit next to him, inexpertly handling his own puppy, but soon each one of the floofs had a bottle and were eating with blissful eagerness.

It didn’t take long for them to drain the bottles and that left them with a lapful of sleepy little critters, their tummies round and full.

“There we are, you little troublemakers,” Deena crooned. She gathered up her puppy and sat it fearlessly into Edge’s lap where it curled up with his sibling. Stretch loved her a little for that, but then, she had a lot of experience in dealing with bruised souls, didn’t she? “Hold them for a bit, could you, while I clean up?”

“I…all right,” Edge agreed, a little helplessly, as Deena gathered up the empty bottles and left. He stroked a tentative hand over his puppies, petting gently. One of them kicked a foot, whimpering indistinctly and sighing as Edge scratched behind one tiny ear. Softly, he asked, “What made you think to bring me here?”

Stretch shrugged a little, petting his own sleepy fluffies. “you told me once how loyal the dogs of your Snowdin were. i just thought…you sounded like you maybe you missed them.”

“They were very loyal,” Edge agreed. It did not escape Stretch’s notice that he didn’t say anything about missing them. “But puppies of Aboveground are not the same as Monsters.”

Stretch only shrugged again. No, they weren’t, but Edge didn’t stop petting them, either.

He did slant Stretch a narrow look. “We aren’t taking one home.”

“nope, not even asking,” Stretch agreed, gathering up one of his puppies to nuzzle soft fur. “these are more like…therapy dogs.”

“I don’t—” Edge began and stopped, biting off the words.

“don’t what?” Stretch settled his drowsy puppy back into his lap, trailing his fingers through silky fur. “don’t need therapy? you can say it, i’m not offended.”

A flicker of something like guilt tinted Edge’s expression. “I don’t mean to imply there is anything wrong with needing it.”

“you aren’t,” Stretch said firmly. “now c’mon, these little guys need your help.”

It was deliberate phrasing, and even if Edge knew what he was doing, it tended to work. Edge was hardwired somewhere in a way that made him like helping. Even puppies.

“My help?” Edge said dubiously, but he took the sleeping puppy Stretch handed him, gently adding him to his pile.

“yep. he needs pets and loves.”

There was something indescribably precious about seeing his fierce, proud husband with a lapful of sleeping puppies curled against him. Petting them carefully, heedless of the shed fur clinging to his expensive trousers. No wonder Edge had so many clothes; married to Stretch, he sure as hell went through them. Their drycleaner was going to be able to retire in the tropics.

He couldn’t resist snapping a picture of it, planning on making it the background on his phone. Only to blink in surprise when Edge asked him, hesitantly. “Do you think posting a picture to Twitter would be helpful for adopting them out? My appearance is sometimes…unnerving for Humans.”

Well, that was an unpleasant realization to sneak in amidst all the adorable. Was that really why Edge didn’t like Stretch posting pictures of him online? It was on the tip of his tongue to say it wasn’t true and even if it was, he didn’t give a flying fuck. Edge was fucking gorgeous, sexy as all hell, and he didn’t give a shit what any coldhearted Humans thought about it.

He choked it back. That wasn’t going to help and Edge preferred honesty, even if it was unpleasant. They were using his Twitter and Instagram for propaganda, that was a fact, and Edge did look fierce sometimes to people, no, to fucking idiots who couldn’t look beneath the hard crust to see the marshmallow filling beneath. A picture didn’t give context; Stretch knew his love, knew how tender, how gentle and caring he was.

Stretch took a long, slow breath, and considered his words carefully. “tell you what, i’ll get a few shots that’ll let me post about the puppies online but still protect your privacy, yeah? so people don’t stop you on the street to ask for your autograph. and you can see them first, get veto rights.”

Must not have done too badly, because Edge’s smile was easier, his hesitance falling away, “All right.”

They stayed for a while longer, cuddling the puppies. One of them woke up enough to gnaw on Stretch’s fingers a little too enthusiastically with his needle-sharp little teeth, making him curse and Edge chuckle. It woke the rest of them and soon they went from snoozing balls of fluff to playful, tumbling ones, tugging eagerly on a rope toy as Edge held it or clambering into his lap for more pets and scritches, until they both were laughing, Deena staying tactfully away for the time being.

Not a cure for nightmares, Stretch knew, not an answer to his husband’s troubles, but it was hard to be too miserable when you were covered in puppies.

-finis-

#spicyhoney #papcest #keelywolfe #underfell #underswap #underswap papyrus #underfell papyrus #by any other name

[brohood-assassins-imagines]

So We Endure - Chapter 3: Times of Change

A/N: Yet another chapter of heartache. I’m going through a bit of a writer’s block for it, so next post I make will probably be a Connor smut I’ve been cooking up for a while! As always, this fic has a playlist (made by me) here

Word Count: 4k+

“What do you mean I’m out?!,” you screeched, eyes watering as a painfully cold grip took hold of your heart.

Mr. Jackson — Jack, as he liked to be addressed to — sighed wearily, cleaning one of the various pints of beer behind the counter. “It is what I said,” he shrugged, not looking you in the eyes. “Your out.”

“Jack, you can’t do that!,” you pleaded, pointedly ignoring the looks some of the early in customers shot you.

“Already did,” the man put the pint down, picking up another one. “Don’t need myself a singer who’s gonna whore herself out to my customers and have them never come back,” he stared you down, expression bitter and anger barely contained. “Shoulda said so before, that your a whore. Woulda treated you likewise.”

You felt the world stop around you, a shiver of fear running down your spine. The squeezing of your heart tightened and you leaned in towards the man. “Jack, I have a son. I need this job, I have to keep him fed and—“

“And on your way to a new one, I see,” he spit the venom casually, not minding the tears gathering at the corner of your eyes. “Shoulda thought ‘bout him before, eh?”

“Nothing happened, Jack! For fucks sake!”

“Yeah, right,” he cackled at his own inside joke. “Outta here with ya. Already hired a new girl, don’t need ya makin’ a scene now.” The man picked another glass up, polishing it without really watching he was doing, “and to think one day I hoped to get it on with ya…”

Humiliated and wrecked, both emotionally and physically, you hunched your shoulders and allowed yourself to cry quietly before being shunned out of the pub. As much as you hated the job, it was what had kept you and Charlie relatively warm at night; with a roof over your heads. You risked a look at one of the clocks on your way home — a quarter after 6 — and tried to think positively. The rent was paid. You had money for the next one, it was okay, if you tightened the belts. There was food at home, you’d get to spend some time with Charlie—

It all felt like a bad joke on you.

The door whined and creaked as Mrs. Dolloway opened it, letting a small gasp of surprise get past her thin lips. “Oh dear!,” she put a chubby hand against her cheek, “ya certainly dropped by early today! I wasn’t expecting ya around ‘til half past nine or so, girl.”

You forced a smile, fidgeting with the tattered cloth-bag in your hands. “Yes, I… got out early.”

Mrs. Dolloway frowned at you, closing the door a bit as she leaned closer to you so the kids wouldn’t eavesdrop. “What happened?”

Closing your eyes, you sighed and twisted your lips as if tasting bitter medicine. You never managed to lie or cover things from your neighbor — and possibly best friend —, as much as you wanted to. She didn’t need to worry more than she already did. “Dolls, really…”

“Dontcha ‘Dolls’ me, girl!,” she pouted, a slight rise of color coming to her complexion. “Come on, out with it. Ya can tell me things, ‘m not made of glass!”

You huffed out a laugh, shaking your head. “Jack fired me today.”

As expected, the woman gasped indignantly. “Whatever for?!”

“It doesn’t matter, really,” you cut in quickly, eager to change the subject. “I’m already looking for a new job.”

“This close to winter? Best thing ya gonna find will be laundry work, probably worse,” she stressed, brows knitting together in worry. “Want me to ask aroun’?”

It wasn’t entirely fair, you knew. You already felt like a parasite with all the help people offered so freely — the guilty pang of Mr. Fry—Jacob’skindness still all too recent in your mind. Drawing your lower lip into your mouth, you bit nervously on it. “If that isn’t a bother, Dolls—“

“Silly girl,” she stopped you before you could finish. “Silly, silly girl.” The plump woman closed the door behind her, pulling you into a tight motherly hug; her soft hands smoothing your shoulders lovingly. “Already taken care of, I tell ya. Stop worryin’, eh?,” she whispered as you awkwardly wrapped your arms around her.

“Thank you,” you offered meekly, allowing the tears to well in your eyes, “thank you so much, Dolls. I just—“

“Hush now,” she pulled away, patting your face gently. “Don’t ya dare go all soft on me now, we still have to talk, eh?,” she smiled. “I asked Tommy what happened that day n’ I think ya should talk to Charlie too.”

“I tried, at the park,” you confessed, leaning against the railing of the stairs, “but it didn’t feel right, at the moment. Didn’t want to make him get antsy on me while we’re out, you know?”

Mrs. Dolloway nodded sagely, but it didn’t seem to smooth her ruffled feathers. “When you can, then. Sooner than later, is my advice.”

You frowned. “What did Tommy tell him?”

“Charlie?,” you called softly, drying the boy’s hair with a towel. He answered by turning around and looking you in the eye. “Mummy loves you very much. You know that, right?,” and upon his nod, you took a breath in before continuing. “Remember last time I fetched you at Auntie Doll, you and Tommy had a fight?”

Your son’s face scrunched up and he cast his gaze down with a slight pout. “It wasn’t my fault,” he offered, although hesitantly.

“Mummy knows,” you said, sitting beside him at the bed, back resting against the wall as you appraised the boy. “I just want to make sure you’re not holding things back from me.”

Charlie’s lips twisted a bit, as he seemed to fight an internal monologue with himself. “I just…,” he fidgeted with the edges of the shirt you had finished fixing. “Tommy said our family is daft.”

“Daft?,” you prompted him on, already knowing the answer.

“Yeah,” the boy agreed, picking at his nails. “Because I don’t have a dad.”

You had been preparing yourself for this talk, but that didn’t stop the cold drop in the pit of your stomach. “And what do you think about that?”

Charlie frowned, looking at you as if he hadn’t fully grasped what you had asked. “Tommy asked me if I had a daddy…,” he started, although hesitantly, “I said no, because that’s what you told me,” Charlie cast his eyes down once more before talking again. “He said that’s dumb, that everyone has a daddy, but I said I didn’t n’ he told me our family is daft,” he started crying, shaking slightly, “’das why I hit ‘im. ‘M sorry, mummy.”

“Hey, now,” you called in, opening your arms for a hug, “our family is not daft. We love each other a lot, don’t we? Isn’t that what matters?”

The boy sniffled, moving closer as you allowed him to rest upon your chest. “But he’s right,” he mumbled quietly, “it’s true.”

You pressed your lips together, smoothing his hair and trying to hold back your own tears. “Don’t you like mummy, baby?”

“It’s not that,” he said, voice brittle with emotion, “I just…,” a quiet sob, “I wanted to have a daddy too.”

Silence grew heavy, broken only by the sniffling and sobbing from your son; and all you could do was hug him tighter.

Thursday morning came slowly, daylight barely making its way through the fraying edges of the ruined curtains. Days were growing colder with the approach of winter; you registered distantly and stretched, burying your face into the thin pillow as the tell-tale sounds of town started rumbling around you. Job hunting hadn’t been going the way you wanted — after walking around for 3 days straight, until your feet ached and chaffed in your boots, you came to the grim conclusion that Mrs. Dolloway had been right to some degree, because even the laundry houses and the few factories that offered jobs year-round were overstaffed.

At some point, you started doubting if there really had been such a sudden shortage of jobs around the slums or if people were simply avoiding you. Everyone loved to gossip around here, even if most tended to show you their kinder side; there were still the ones with venomous tongues and ill spirits, who’d pounce at the opportunity of pointing their fingers at you in a heartbeat.

You wondered if Mr. Jackson was to blame or if your poorly-thought-through display with Jacob earlier on Sunday to the bus stop had had anything to do with it.

Universe definitely wasn’t kind.

Charlie stirred against you, sleepy murmurs stopping as soon as you rubbed his shoulder. The boy was a blessing, truly, and you didn’t regret it; not him. He wasn’t to blame for anything. You closed your eyes again, opting for sleeping in for a bit more today. It wasn’t like you were to change anything and magically find a job today after leaving no rock unturned last few days. Sleep crept slowly, its pull gentle and sweet and—

A knock.

A knock?

Frowning, you sighed; halfway hoping it was your imagination or for another floor. You opened your eyes, resting a tired gaze upon the weathered wooden door. Someone — a male voice, you recognized — called your name through it, now knocking more insistently which made Charlie groan and turn to bury his face into the mattress.

“Heavens…,” you whispered, slipping out of bed, careful not to wake your slumbering son, to answer the door. It couldn’t be Mr. Ross, you had paid the rent on time yesterday and Mrs. Dolloway usually wasn’t up this early. “Who’s it?,” you inquired quietly, hugging yourself to retain the warmth from the bed.

“Jacob,” the voice answered, sounding far to anxious to belong to the same calm and confident man you who’s had tea with you in the kitchen last Sunday. It was early, you frowned, much too early than what proper education demanded to a breakfast visit, and it made you feel uneasy. What on earth did he want? Then he called your name again, “will you open up?”

Pressing your lips together and sighing resentfully, you unlocked the door and Jacob wasted no time at slipping in and closing it behind himself. “I— Jacob, I have never—“

“I know, etiquette be damned,” he spoke hastily, taking off roughened up cap that matched his outfit. No top hat today?, you thought to yourself. “But— I swear, as soon as I heard about it— Wha— How— Uh… you… you were fired?,” the words tumbled out of his mouth, tripping on each other as he cast a worried gaze at you; a wild look in his eyes that made you wonder distantly if he had slept at all.

“Jacob.”

“Are you okay?,” he continued, “do you want me to talk to Jack?,” the man asked now, pacing around the flat, trying to school his voice into something less anxious. “We can see to it, you’ll have your old job in the blink of an eye, I swear—“

“Jacob.”

He stopped, frowning and fixing you with a puzzled look. “What?”

“It’s fine,” you offered lightly, trying to force a smile into your lips. “I hated it there, either way. I’m a singer to some degree, it kept a roof over our heads for a while, and it’s okay.”

Jacob swallowed thickly, staring at you with a dumbfounded look. “You… Ah, you’re not mad?”

“Whyever for?,” your voice came out like a tired sigh. “It wasn’t your fault. If I am to blame anyone, I’d point fingers at myself for doing something so reckless and stupid—“

“You were desperate, there is a difference,” he quipped in, grimacing at the thought. “I’d have come sooner had you told me— why— why didn’t you tell me?”

You huffed out a laugh, crossing your arms in front of him. “Because I don’t know where you live, Jacob Frye. Much less how to contact you.”

Something seemed to click in his mind and Jacob scowled. “I’m sorry,” he offered, the high of his cheeks adopting an embarrassed shade of pink. “I feel like— I thought you’d have my head if I showed up here.”

Frowning as you moved closer to the kettle, you gave him a confused look. “Whatever for?”

“Because— well, because…,” he mumbled, shifting his weight from one foot to another. “I just...,” Jacob coughed, looking away with a somewhat relieved face and his shoulders stopped tensing up. Well, that went off terribly. “I thought you would be mad at me for making you lose your job that day—“

“You didn’t,” you said casually.

“—and I wanted to make sure you and Charlie were okay, so I just came flying here as soon as I could.” As you put the water to boil, he shoot a look at you that pleaded for something, even though you weren’t entirely sure what. “Are you sure you don’t want me to explain the situation to Jack?”

You splashed some water into the teapot. “I don’t want to have anything to do with Jack any longer, Jacob,” your voice came out colder than you intended and you tried to soften it a bit. “We had our divergences and he wouldn’t take me for my word,” you explained, opening the cabinet and pulling the tea box. You weren’t going to lie, seeing the kitchen cabinet filled with food like that eased the anxiety in your heart. “Besides, he’s a bloody penny-pincher and a pig.” At that, Jacob laughed and you turned around to catch his mischievous smirk at you. “Believe me, I’m better off out of there.”

“’Suppose I’ll have to find a new pub to drink at, then,” Jacob started, putting his cap back on, “because that new girl can’t sing for shit, I’m telling you.”

It didn’t surprise you, honestly.

“It’s not difficult to please the drunkards,” you shrugged, “a pretty face is all they need at some point,” after your jesting, noticing what you had said, you clapped a hand over your mouth and turned to give him a horrified look. “My apologies, I didn’t mean to—“

“It’s fine,” Jacob waved a hand dismissively, smirking as he walked closer to the stove and it occurred to you that he might be cold, without a thick coat on, “you can speak your mind around me,” he threw a few coals into the stove, proceeding to rub his hands together for warmth. “Besides, it was funny, and I believe I did tell you etiquette is not my best trait.”

You fidgeted with the kitchen rag in your hands, scoffing at his commentary. “Yes, I’ve been told.” As much as you hated to admit, you wanted to have someone’s company— needed it, really; someone who wouldn’t fuss and ask questions you didn’t want to answer, and last time had proven that Jacob wasn’t unpleasant at all to talk to. You shoot him a glance, trying to sound nonchalant. “Would you like to have breakfast with us? I was just about to start cooking.”

Jacob tensed, looking at you as if you had just told him to leave the flat, giving you a piercing gaze that deeply unsettled you; as if he could see through your lie. “That’d be lovely,” he blew into his hands, a smile already plastered upon his face, “thank you.”

Nodding, you turned around to cut up the cheese and bread — it was still so soft it made you wonder if Jacob bought it the same day it had been baked. Walking around, he got rid of his cap, putting it over the table, and asked “are you still looking for a new job?”

It was bound to happen, sooner or later. “Yes, although not with much luck, I’m afraid.”

“Oh?,” Jacob prompted, coming up next to you and pulling the same two mugs you had used to drink tea last time from the cabinet. It made you itch uncomfortably, for some reason.

“No one would hire me,” you explained, giving him an exasperated look that suggested you weren’t overly fond of the topic. “Not even the washhouses or the coal factory.”

Jacob hesitated for a second, looking mildly guilty. “I can help you, with anything you’d like.”

Just as he never ceased to surprise you, the annoyance seemed to come along in equal measures. You started to regret the invitation.

Turning around for a second, you offered him a disinterested “oh?”

The man shuffled awkwardly, giving you a pained look. “What I mean is… I can… help. More, is what I’m trying to say.”

Not knowing what to do with the silence, you allowed it to stretch a bit. “That’d be nice of you, but what I really am looking for is a job, Jacob.”

Jacob nodded, looking away with furrowed brows and as if he wanted to say something else; but ultimately stayed silent. You were somewhat thankful for it, but wouldn’t settle for having someone else paying your bills; you’ve been able to make things right up until now. The quiet that grew in the room evoked a heavy cloud of uneasiness and you wondered just when Charlie would wake up.

As if on careful coordination, a sleepy “mummy?,” called from the bedroom and you sighed in relief.

Offering Jacob a somewhat apologetic look, you hurried to the bedroom — which wasn’t really that far away, “hey, baby…,” you whispered, bending slightly in order to caress his head, “are you hungry? Mummy’s making breakfast now.”

Charlie yawned, turning to press his face into the mattress again and stretching out his arms for you to pick him up. “Are you going out today?,” he asked when you fixed him against your hip, resting his face against your collarbone.

“I don’t know yet,” you answered truthfully. “Let’s eat first, yes? We have a visit over today.”

“We do?”

You nodded, rubbing his back a bit. “Do you remember Jacob?”

The boy stayed silent for a moment, mind still hazy as he tried to recall where he had heard the name before. “Jake?,” he asked, looking at you with a confused look, “the magician?”

“Jake the magi—,“ you cut yourself, laughing softly, “yes, the magician.” Charlie’s eyes widened a bit, letting go of the heavy lidded look he was giving you. “Why don’t we go talk to him, mhm?”

He shifted a bit in your arms, as if embarrassed, until ultimately agreeing; although hesitantly. “’kay…”

Turning around to leave the bedroom, you caught sight of Jacob watching you with an expression you couldn’t exactly pinpoint; but it didn’t look bad on his face, you decided ultimately. The softness in his eyes made the hazel stand out against the olive skin and you wondered what he must’ve been thinking.

“Hey, sport!,” he called cheerfully, waving a hand at Charlie as the other took a hold of the backrest of a chair, “thought you’d sleep in forever.”

Charlie got flustered, resting his head against your chest in a gesture of comfort. “Hey,” he answered timidly, fiddling with the frilly neckline of your dress.

“Now,” Jacob started, approaching you both with a disarming smile, “I have a little something for you today,” the smile broadened when he saw that it had caught Charlie’s attention, “I wonder if you’re gonna like it.”

Your son looked at Jacob curiously, weighing his next words carefully. Charlie had never been very talkative strangers, but seemed to be growing out of it at times; with moments where he oscillated between both before ultimately making up his mind about the person. “What is it?,” he inquired, starting to develop a mild interest at the promise of a gift.

“Oh, I’m not really sure,” Jacob frowned, crossing his arms rather hilariously. “A little bird brought it to me and said it was your favorite.”

“Don’t be daft,” Charlie spoke in a half amused and surprised voice, “birds can’t talk.”

Jacob smiled at him, looking at you briefly. What Jacob lacked in etiquette and good sense, he made up with the way he got along with children — Charlie, in particular. You still weren’t entirely sure about him, but allowed yourself to be swayed over the attachment your son seemed to have developed over him.

“Well, you got me there,” he said, touching his chest lightly, “but you forget I’m a magician. I read it in the bird’s mind, actually.”

“No way!,” Charlie exclaimed, pushing away from your body and getting rid of whatever traces of sleepiness remained in his face, “really?!”

“Really!,” Jacob assured

He seemed to think on that for a few seconds as you shared a knowing look with Jacob. “Can you read my mind?”

“Oh, I can only read bird’s minds,” the man answered simply, “but I bet you’re still thinking about what the bird told me to give you.”

“Wrong,” Charlie giggled childishly, “I was thinking about what color your talking bird is.”

“See?,” Jacob gestured towards himself, as if resigned, “only bird-thoughts for me.”

“I want to know its color!,” Charlie protested and you giggled at the demand.

“Didn’t you tell me it was a blue one?,” you asked Jacob with a fake confused voice.

Jacob looked up at you, surprised at your input, but played along, “ah, yes,” he agreed, “a little blue bird asked me to give you this as a gift.” At that, the man pulled out the thin package from the insides of his coat.

“What is it?,” your son asked suddenly, twisting out of your arms as he leaned over and you were forced to put him down.

You looked at what Jacob had in hand — a bar of chocolate, of all things, and you were surprised the man even kept such a thing in mind. Smiling, you settled your gaze upon his face, at the pleased expression that spoke volumes of his character without the need for words.

“Chocolate,” Jacob explained, raising a finger before the boy could freak out, “but you gotta eat breakfast first, okay?”

Charlie pouted a bit, looking mildly disappointed even as Jacob offered him the candy. “Not even a piece?”

You supposed you owed him that much. Pretending not to pay attention at the exchange, you moved towards the stove and took the kettle out of the fire, pouring the fervent water into the teapot at the well-known ritual of making tea.

Looking over his shoulder — as you saw from the corner of your eye —, Jacob leaned down and whispered something to Charlie, who nodded eagerly, and gave him the candy back. You pretended you didn’t hear the clear sound of paper being unwrapped and the pleased giggle of your son as he rushed towards the bedroom with what you hoped wasn’t the entire bar right before breakfast.

“You shouldn’t have,” you whispered, voice softer than before, “you’re spoiling him.”

“It’s fine,” Jacob interjected, “he’s a kid.”

“Kids need to eat proper meals,” you huffed a laugh, looking at him as he leaned back against the counter beside you. “Thank you, though.”

He broke a piece of the chocolate and offered it to you. “You don’t have to thank me,” Jacob smiled when you took it, the candy melting a bit at where he had touched. “I’m glad you appreciate it, but you know that’s not what I’m looking for.”

You nibbled at it, reveling in its sweetness. It had been ages since you had had any chocolate and it was equal measures refreshing and heartwarming. “I hope you didn’t go out of your way for that,” you pointed out, fixing him with an amused look.

Jacob scoffed, breaking a small piece for himself, “no, I just happen to be a fan of chocolate myself,” he confessed, waving the still-considerable-bar in the air. “This is from my personal stash, actually.”

A stash. Again, the question about just who this man was nagged at the back of your mind. Chocolate was no cheap treat. “Don’t spoil him,” you looked at Jacob, stirring the infuser inside the teapot, “he’s too young and impressionable. Reality isn’t…,” you trailed off, lowering your head and staring at the chocolate in your hands.

“Reality isn’t what?,” Jacob called out, goading you on.

Sighing, you let go of the candy. “Reality isn’t this; random strange benefactors showing up at your flat,” you picked up the teapot, setting it over the table and moved towards the counter again, “with chocolate and food and offering to pay off your rent,” grabbing the piece of ham, you set it on the cutting board, “and wanting to give you money for whatever the reason!”

Jacob weighed your words, unmoving, and it both astounded and annoyed you in equal measures how he didn’t even flinch. “What is reality, then?”

You put the knife down, feeling the wet hot tears of anger welling up in your eyes. “It’s struggling,” you answered in a cold, matter-of-fact voice. “You work hard to gain your money, see that it’s not enough and you worry. You pay rent on your own, you buy food on your own, you teach your kids why’s that they can’t have a new toy or a pair of shoes on your own,” wiping the tears away, you fixed the man with a harsh stare, “that’s what reality is, and it’s not kind.”

He stayed silent for a short while, seeming to be mulling over what you had said and you were thankful for it in order to recollect yourself. “Maybe it doesn’t have to be that way,” Jacob whispered above the crackling of the fire and the distant chatter of the streets, “maybe fate has a kinder outlook on life than what you might be used to.”

Hesitating as you steadied yourself against the counter, you thought on what he had said. “It’s…,” stopping, you fixed a strand of hair behind your ear, “…a nice fantasy,” you decided ultimately, setting the plate of sliced ham on the table. The flat felt eerily quiet now, the tension in the air drowning out the sounds of the outer world. “But I won’t wait for it.”

It was a while since Jacob had been around.

Deep down, you feared you had been too harsh on your words; but in your defense, you were on the edge for days on end, looking for jobs that didn’t exist with people whispering behind your back in accusing tones; not to mention the whole situation with your son, now that he didn’t want go to Mrs. Dolloway’s. It wasn’t one of your best moments, you knew, but you couldn’t help but to lash out at anyone who pushed your buttons.

Sighing, you shook your head slightly, stitching a button into one of your worn out shirts. You wouldn’t be surprised if the man never showed up again; it had been almost a week, after all. You had paid rent with whatever was left of the money he had given you so freely before — under the doubtful gaze of Mr. Ross, who didn’t ask where you were getting those shiny new coppers — and feared what might come to happen if Tuesday came to be with you penniless.

Maybe you could sell one of your things, but what? You didn’t own anything but the necessary. It had been that way since father passed away, and—

No.

It wouldn’t do you any good to dive into painful memories and replay things over and over — you had to push forwards, no matter what.

With your mind set, you decided to get rid of the armchair if things didn’t improve soon. Nodding at your own decision, you looked over at the bedroom where Charlie slept soundly; lulled into sleep by the yellowish glow the fire from the stove cast into the walls of the flat. You couldn’t help but feel your heart squeeze tightly for him, as if someone had taken hold of it.

And that’s when frantic knock came down on the front door.

Startled, you hurriedly got up on your feet in order to stop the hellish noise before it woke your boy up. Muttering low curses, you went for the door and yanked it open with furrowed brows, only to be face to face with Jacob — a sweaty, red from exertion, with a manic smile Jacob.

“You won’t believe this!,” he started, letting himself in as he pushed the hood down from his face.

You were dumbstruck. He couldn’t be serious. “Jacob, you better have a good reason—“

“To come here in the middle of the night?,” he cut you, stepping closer and taking hold of your forearms with bare hands. “Believe me, I do!”

Curiosity spoke louder than the annoyance in your mind. “Out with it, then,” you spoke quietly, expertly shutting his mouth the moment he tried to speak again, “and try to be quieter, yes? Charlie’s asleep.”

Smiling wildly, Jacob leaned forwards — perhaps a bit too close than what you’d like — and whispered, “I got you a job.”

#jacob frye #jacob frye x reader #Assassin's Creed #jacob frye imagine #assassin's creed syndicate

[cakemakethme]

Where The Heart Is , 4.2k , Rating T+

Tags: Magical AU, angst, first kisses, fluff, Sid and Geno hopefully being Sid and Geno

For the @sidgenophotochallenge

completely unbeta’d and uneditied. im really nervous as this is the first time I’ve truly written sidgeno. That and the fact that I wrote almost 4.3k of it freaks me out. I made the moodboard first and then decided at the last min YESTERDAY NIGHT to write the fic that would go along with it. So please forgive all the writing and tense errors, I don’t ever write fic.

~

It's such a sharp pull in his chest that trying to ignore it would have felt like a slow death. Sid’s family all warned him not to go, everyone gathered in his living room as if was some sort of strange intervention.

“Sid,” His mother pleaded, “You’ll need to be gone for an entire year! Isolated in that forest! We might lose you forever!” She added tearfully. He knew the risk and it was so hard knowing what he was doing to them. His family looking at him like he was about to walk to his death. He probably was for all he knew. Sid heard all about the stories of people never coming back. Sometimes, if they do come back, they come back completely wrong. Usually missing more than what they had before going in to recover what they lost.

Sid carefully takes her hands in his, trembling “I know, mom, I really do but I can't stop this feeling that if i don’t go now, it’ll be gone forever, whatever it is that was taken from me in the first place. It feels so empty inside mom please understand. I need to go. I love you so much.” Sid looks up at everyone else, “ I love you all so much.” He gently squeezes her hands before lets them go and dashes out the front door.

“Sid wait!” It's Taylor and he stops and closes his eyes.

“Taylor please…”

She catches up to him and holds him tight but then she releases him and just as quickly, she wraps a handmade scarf around his neck. “Be safe Sid, I believe in you.” Taylor whispers to him and runs back into the house, closing the door behind herself.

Sid settles his nose briefly into the scarf, takes a deep breath and steels himself.

It’s time to go.

~

Sid had decided to start his years journey in the forest in the summer.He had actually wanted to start sooner than that but he couldn't. Either way, It made sense to him to start without worrying about the cold snowy nights straight away. He could get used to setting up camp, breaking it down and such and set up his routine. He has time now to prepare for the winter months that seemed so far away. Sid can’t deny that he made the correct choice however, because the moment he stepped into the faes forest, the weight in his chest seemed to lift ever so slightly.  The first month or so, he sleeps better than he ever had before. Most of Sids dreams are filled with a warmth, surrounding him. Even though he feels well rested, there are mornings that he wakes up with tear tracks on his face. He couldn't explain them other than the fae were probably messing with him, perhaps making him miss his family even though he didn’t remember them in those dreams at all.

Soon enough, the leaves started to change their colors and the nights were a becoming a bit colder. Sid would wrap Taylors scarf around just a little tighter on those days and gets to working on making more piles of wood quickly with his hatchet and storing the wood so it would get soaked with water. Sid found a wonderful clearing as near to the middle of the forest as he guesses. There's a pond close by where he’s been fishing regularly and every once in a while, Sid will explore out to check on his traps.

Its during one of these trips near the abandoned railroad tracks where he sees him. He's so tall and long limbed that at first, Sid thinks he might be fae, but he's walking along the tracks slowly, muttering to himself in a deep accent. It's the accent somehow, that changes his mind about not approaching him. That, and the fact that Sid is so fucking lonely. For as long as he’s been in the forest, he hasn't seen a sign of anyone else.

Sid clutches his hatchet a little tighter and noisily steps out of the trees to alert the stranger instead of shouting out to him. It works and he turns around quickly, his body stiff. It’s a little bit funny, those sleepy looking eyes wide and looking so shocked at seeing another person.

Sid can’t help but giggle and give a little wave. Unfortunately, it’s the hand that's holding the hatchet and of course the stranger's gaze immediately goes to it and he starts to back away.

“OH! No, sorry! Please, it’s okay! Sorry! I wasn’t sure if you were, you know, er, human?” Sid quickly puts his hand down and lets his grip on the handle loose letting it hang from the cord wrapped around his wrist. The stranger raises his eyebrows at that but his expression mellows out. “What you think I am, bear?” He gestures his long arms at his equally long and tall body.

Sid shakes his head but laughs “Yeah, well, you’re lumbering around like one, eh?” It’s so easy talking to this guy and he doesn't even know his name. Shit. “Sorry, again. Um, I’m Sid” He pauses but decides to go for it “ I started my years journey in the summer. Are...are you here for the year too?” He asks cautiously.

The strangers eyes lose the playfulness they were starting to develop. “Yes,” He answers solemnly. “I start end of spring. Feel like Im here for year already.” He looks down and his body immediately looks defeated. It looks wrong on him.

Sid nods in understanding and sighs. The stranger sighs back in response. “Am very sorry. You find me and all you get is sad story.” He slightly grins “You can call me Geno. Is very nice to meet you Sid.”

Sid smiles and Geno smiles wider in return. “it’s great to meet you Geno.”

~

Geno, miraculously, decides to join him.

His large ever present company is so welcomed, Sid doesn't know how he didn’t go crazy when he was alone before running into Geno.

Of course, that’s not to say that Geno doesn't drive him crazy in other ways. Sid had quickly adjusted his routine to include Geno with Geno seamlessly fitting in. Well, almost.

“No, Sid I'm tell you this is best way to hang fish! How you even survive this long??”  Geno grabs at the string of fish and fixing it his way.

Sid is flabbergasted. “How did I survive? You didn't even have the proper socks packed away for the winter! You’re lucky I had extra pairs or else you’d be saying goodbye to that height come winter!”

Geno mouth twitches and Sid knows a chirp is coming “Oh, don't have to worry. Still be taller than you, Sid. Anyway, was going to be fine! Maybe I make warm socks with squirrels or something- hey! why you laughing at me?”

Sid can’t help it and throws a piece of burned wood at him, laughing “Oh my god, Geno! Shut up!”

“Sid! Why you trying to do now? What danger you are in this forest!” Geno chuckles deeply back at Sid. Geno takes the burned wood cinder piece and starts to quietly sketch on a flat part of the large stone they lay out meat, a small warm smile on his face. Sid shakes his head and picks up the fish, proceeding to fix them up his way anyway. Sids pretty sure Geno just wanted to get out of the task and Sid just gave him an easy out. He feels very okay with it and he’s not sure why.

~

Sid walks around camp later, routinely preparing it for the night when he comes across the rock and he stops. He can't help but drop to his knees.

There, Geno has sketched him perfectly except the expression is so alien to him. How could Geno have captured this look of utter besottedness. His eyes looking off to the side, crinkled and warm, full of… of love? His smile large and crooked mid-laugh. He quickly looks up, scanning for Geno and finding him fussing around inside his own tent. Sid looks back down at his sketched face and his heart flutters. The empty feeling in his chest had become a small dull ache these days. Sid quietly gets up and heads back to his tent.

~

Sid can’t sleep.

Geno can’t either if the constant moving around says anything.

“Geno.” Sid quietly whispers to him and the noises next door stops.

“Yes, Sid?” He whispers back. “Am sorry if I'm keeping you awake.”

“No, sorry it’s not you,” He reassures him “it’s just” Sid sighs “Do you think, when this is over, we’ll get our answers?”

Geno is quiet and still and Sid is afraid he finally passed out or doesn't want to talk about it.  It's usually a hit or miss whenever Sid brings it up, but then Geno answers softly “Fae world so mysterious, Sid. Sometimes you just need to believe it happen. This all a test if we deserve what we lose, I feel this.” He hears Geno shift and then Geno presses his hand against the walls of the tents. “We gonna be okay Sid.”

Sid shudders a breath and reaches out to press his hand to Genos. His hand is so warm.

“Okay, Geno.” Sid bites his lip “Thank you.”

“Goodnight Sid.”

Sid turns over, shifts his scarf around and sleeps.

~

It’s so warm again. Sid feels it,as a lightness in his chest and enveloped around him. It feels like an amused laugh, like a playful shove and he doesn't want it to end. It almost feels like plush warm lips and large hands. It's so, so familiar and Sid is lost not knowing what it's supposed to mean.

~

Sid startles awake because Geno is there, in his tent calling out to him and reaching for him. He's looking at Sid with such a terrible expression. Suddenly, Sid is wide awake because something is so obviously very wrong.

“Geno, what's wrong??” he sits up and reaches for Genos shoulders, steadying him.

“Sid, no! Are you okay? What you mean what wrong? You, you make noise like you...” Genos hands reach up and cup his face, his thumb grazing his cheekbone wiping away the tears apparently still flowing there. “I’m never hear such pain, Sid.”

“Oh”, Sid realizes what's happened. Those dreams stopped suddenly around fall when he had found Geno. Sid had completely forgotten about them.

Sid can't look at Geno, he feels so embarrassed he can't face him. “I'm so sorry for waking you up Geno. Please, just forget about this and go back to sleep” he starts to try and turn his body away when suddenly, Geno is holding him tightly.

It's like a dam breaking and Sid is helpless to try and stop. He's sobbing into Genos chest and Geno is quietly and softly reassuring him in Russian. Geno shifts them and then they're laying down, a hand rubbing Sids back soothing him. “Is okay Sid, is okay. I'm be here okay?” Genos whispers into his hair. Sid slowly quiets down and feels Genos arms gently holding him closer and exhaustion takes over him.

~

Sid expects to feel awkward when he wakes up but it isn't even waking up in Genos arms. Geno doesn't bring up what happened that night and instead jokes about how Sid numbed his arm and therefore can't help with morning duties.Geno does become more tactile than before and Sid doesn't hate it, leaning into him more.

Geno also decides that they should start sharing a tent from that day on because it's getting colder and frost is starting to appear.

“Is for the best Sid, I'm freeze to death alone, so is best to warm up one tent together, yes?”

Sid for sure, isn't going to argue with the logic but he's not going to give in THAT easily. “I dunno, G. You do snore pretty loud sometimes. Could be good to scare away animals.” he takes off running with Geno giving chase “I show YOU BIG SNORE! “

Sids honking back with laughter “What does that even mean? You don't make sense Geno!”

He looks back in time to see Geno promptly slip on some wet leaves and eat it.

Geno wails on the ground not moving “So mean to me! Gonna stay here forever. Let the ground eat me.”

Sid walks back to him, giggling, leans over, and gives him a hand to help him up. “No, you won't.”

Geno smiles back at Sid and takes his hand “No, guess not.”

~

It's nice when winter finally comes. Sid has never felt so warm. Well, he can't say the same about Geno who seems to have taken any and all the extra clothing Sid had packed for himself.

There's even another, longer scarf that Taylor made for him in there that Geno immediately claims. Each day is not without Geno complaining about the cold.

~

Sid is sitting by the fire, cooking up some stew when Geno comes back with some more firewood looking like he's ready to mount an expedition to the arctic.

Sid can't help but laugh and gestures towards Genos face. “I think you missed a spot there.”

Genos visible eyes narrow followed by some angry muffling noises.

“You don't say! “ Sid can't help but tease as he pokes the fire a bit. “I don't know if you'll survive long enough to uncover your mouth to even eat this Geno. Truly tragic.” Sid looks up in time to see Geno give him the stink eye. Geno then reaches up with his thickly padded gloves to uncover his face.

“I'm tell you, this lasting much longer than other months! Is unnatural Sid!” He tries to cross his arms but can't.

Sid makes a noise, acknowledging that he heard him and lifts the pot cover to check on the food. He discovered the same thing early on and didn't say anything for Genos sake. If it's a test like Geno said it was, they can't do anything about it anyway except push on.

He carefully looks up and finds Geno is already looking at him, with a thoughtful expression and nods in silent understanding.

“Oh, hey Sid! I'm find bottle I bury in first snow.” he reaches into his bag, pulling out some Russian vodka and shakes the bottle at Sid “think it pair with rabbit stew?” He waggles his eyebrows at and Sid can't help but giggle.

“Yeah, I'm think it just might.”

They sit as close as they can eating right out of the pot and passing the bottle back and forth between each other. The fire casting the light warmly and illuminating the pinking cheeks that darken and flush as the bottle becomes lighter. Sid can't help but reach out and touch and Geno cuts short the story he can't finish, giggling at the funny parts he has yet to say out loud.

Sid can't help but notice how Genos eyes darken and how he leans his head into Sids touch. How he wishes he wasn't wearing gloves at that moment. “Geno.. “ Sid licks his lips and Geno, very carefully takes Sid's gloved hand and gives it a light kiss. Sid shudders.

“Sid, we drink too much. Best sleep first make sure we know what we doing. Okay?”

Sid is disappointed, but really he's too drunk to try and argue that he's fine. So he lets himself be led back to tent,with a canteen of water set next to his head as he settles in. His head is so fuzzy yet he feels like he's about to fall but then he feels the pressure of thing being piled on and around him to keep him warm.

Then it's still and quiet and Sid can hear himself breathing heavy. He fucked up. He can't believe he did that. Is Geno setting up his tent again? Thoughts swirl around in his head until he can hear Geno coming back into the tent and zipping it closed behind him.

“G… Geno?”

“Yes, here. Had to clean up and put out fire. Am here now Sid.” Geno gets into the warmth and up close behind Sid, wrapping an arm around his midsection. “Sleep Sid.”

Sid swears he feels the pressure of a light kiss on his neck before he succumbs to sleep.

~

When Sid blinks himself awake, he’s immediately aware of an arm holding him tightly, his back flushed against Genos front. He can feel Genos breath tickling the hairs on the back of his neck. He spots the water and carefully drinks it, swishing and gulping water until it’s empty. He’s completely clear headed right now and he knows what he wants.

He starts to try and turn around, dislodging the arm around him in the process. Geno begins to stir awake as well. “Mmm Sid, Sleep. Is early.” He grumbles, trying to tuck his head into Sids neck.

“Geno come on, wake up. I'm not drunk anymore.” Sid snakes an arm out from under the covers and wraps it around Genos broad back, his fingers playing with the hair at Genos nape. Geno seems to purr and tucks himself further. Sid can’t help but softly giggle and gives a playful tug. He moves slightly back giving himself room to look down at Genos face. He spots a tiny curl playing at the edge of Genos mouth giving him away.

Geno slowly opens his eyes and smiles and looks at Sids mouth.

“I want so much, Sid,” Geno brings own his hand up to touch the side of Sids face, tucking a stray curl behind Sids ear ,” Is like sometimes, the heavy feeling right here, is gone.” Geno takes Sids other hand and presses it to his own chest, the identical location as his own fading emptiness.   

“I don’t know what it meaning, but I know for sure that Im not leave this forest without you Sid.” Geno looks nervous,” I wait with you till your year is finished and we go together. Is...is that okay, Sid?”

Sid can’t breathe for a moment then lets out a shaky breath “Yes, Geno please, I feel the same way. Will it be okay, though staying longer? I don’t want to risk you losing what you came here to find when you’re so close.”

Geno cups his face and brings Sids forehead close to his own. “I feel, deep inside, everything will be okay.” he slides his fingers down and gently touches Sids lower lip.

Sid can’t take the gentle teasing anymore, he’s breathing heavy and brings himself closer, closing his eyes. His intentions clear.

The moment their lips touch, Sid shivers and pulls Geno closer to himself, legs curling around Genos legs. Geno lets out a groan, kissing Sid deeper, nipping at his lips, finally free to have the mouth that had also been torturing him. It’s only a kiss but neither of them has ever felt anything like it. Every sound, every touch feels amplified. Every gasp and groan, fuels them.

“Geno, Geno, please,” Sid pleads, completely wrecked as he tilts his head up, exposing his neck. Geno takes the cue and begins to mouth at it, biting and sucking, loudly enjoying every inch. Sid can’t help but cling to his back, slotting his leg and encouraging Geno to move his own thigh between his legs.

Every point of contact feels overwhelming and Sid can’t have enough of it.

“Geno please, I want everything,” He lays back pulling Geno on top of him ,”I need you.”

Geno leans over him, lips red and kissed swollen, same as his own, and softly kisses him.

“Yes, Sid.” Geno whispers back ,” I give you all of me, everything.”

~

Winter seems to pass through much faster afterwards, as if the season remembered it had a time limit. Soon enough, the snows begin to melt and green shoots emerge.

It's Spring.

Sid is still nervous at the possibility of Geno losing everything because of him. The day comes quickly however and Sid decides he needs to be away for the moment, giving Geno his space.

“Sid, I tell you, will be okay.” He smiles and busses a kiss to Sids lips “If it make you feel better, go. Im be here when you come back.”

Sid takes a deep breath and nods “Okay, Geno. I’ll see you later then, yeah?” He smiles nervously.

“Yes, Sid,” Geno smiles warmly back,”I see you later.”

~

It’s dark. How did it get so dark so quickly.

Sid is panicking because he couldn't have been out for that long. it’s not possible. Then again he’s been in this forest long enough he should know better that the Fae don’t necessarily follow the rules as strictly.

He’s running as fast as he can back in the direction of the campsite when suddenly a bright light catches his eye.

“What the hell…” Sid trails off. It's the campsite and their tent is alight with an unearthly glow emanating from the inside. “Geno, oh no…”

Sid takes off running and the closer he gets, the light seems to fade away. “Please no, Geno please be there.”

He arrives at the tent when Geno opens the flap and stumbles out of it, wide eyed.

“Oh my god, Geno.” Sid gathers him into his arms. Genos seems to be slow and still in shock. “Geno, talk to me please.”

Just as quickly, Geno snaps out of the trance he was in. “Sid? You, you never go on walk?” He asks him confused.

“What? Geno look around, it’s dark! Did they give you back what you lost?” Sid is beginning to panic once again.

“Oh, yes… Sorry, Yes! they tell me! Sid!” Geno is excited, holding Sid close to his chest.

Sid raises his eyebrows and shakes his head “Well, go on then Geno! What was it it?”

“Oh, They tell me once I leave forest I will know. I pass test!”  Genos smile is so wide but Sid can’t help but be puzzled.

“You have to leave the forest to know what you lost?”

“Yes, Sid. Say I will know immediately. I tell you it be okay! Now we wait for you to pass test Sid and we leave forest together, yes?”

Sid shakes his head, “Geno, you can know now, are you sure…?”

“Sid, always so stubborn!,” He places both hands on Sids face, squishing his cheeks together,”I say is okay! We go together. Was plan, okay?”

Sid can’t help but smile, his eyes misty. “yeah, that's the plan G.”

~

It's wonderful having Geno with him. Sid is terrified when his year is finally over but when he looks across to Geno, hands moving wildly to a memory another childhood memory he's sharing he can’t help but feel relieved. He’ll not only be leaving the forest with whatever it was he lost, but he’ll also be leaving with Geno. Geno will forevermore be a part of Sids life. Sid can’t wait to start his new life out there with him.

Geno stops talking and watches how Sid hasn’t been paying any attention to him. So he quietly sneaks up tackles Sid gently onto the soft grass behind him.

“Geno, what the hell was that?” Sid can’t help but laugh because he knows what he did, he had hoped Geno didn’t notice his daydreaming. Sid tries to squirm away and looks up biting his lip.

“You, sitting there, looking so beautiful,” Genos looking at Sid like he can’t believe he’s real so he leans down and kisses Sid thoroughly.

~

It’s Summer and Geno sits outside of the tent waiting for Sid to be visited by the Fae.

Sids has his message and like Geno, he is told somehow, that the moment he leaves the forest he will get back what he had lost. He also passes the test.

There's a surreal feeling packing their lives for an entire year back up, knowing things are about to change for both of them very soon.

When they’re done, they both look around and smile. Geno turns to Sid and bumps his shoulder and smiles.

It’s time to go.

~

Soon enough, they can see the edge of the forest approaching and Sids stomach is in knots.

Geno however, looks completely at ease, walking a little faster. Those long legs taking up the distance faster than Sid is.

“Come on Sid! Is right there!” Geno shouts gleefully and suddenly he's making a run for it.

“Geno… Geno wait for me!” Sid is scared, his heart is beating so fast both with fear and with trying to catch up to Genos long strides. He’s panting and desperately trying to catch up. Sid see’s Geno run into the clearing, laughing then suddenly Geno stops and stands completely still.

“Geno, Geno what happened? Geno?” Sid reaches the edge and he hesitates. He takes a fortifying breath and steps through. He’s a few feet from Geno and then slowly Geno turns to look at him, almost exactly the way he did when they first met except… that's not right. That's not when they first...

“S..Sid?” Genos eyes widen and he drops everything he’s carrying “My god Sid, you...you’re MY Sid, I don’t… how we…?”

Then Sid remembers everything. His mouth drops and tears start to flow. He looks up at Geno, his... Zhenya? how could he have forgotten… Genos hand is covering his mouth and is crying just as hard.

Sid drops what he's carrying and they both run towards each other simultaneously, arms outstretched towards each other, hearts full and finally home.

#Sidgeno #Hockey rpf #my writing #jfc #sidgenophotochallenge #it DOES end like that #should have quite a few clues #what do you think happened that they were in this situation in the first place #im curious what you guys think happned #my moodboard #moodboard #my artwork #my graphic