summer loving (happened so fast)

au in which the cutie crew (alice, dom, hikaru, mk, rutta, shayne, & toya) goes on a beach vacay. (aka i would be totally down 2 write dis wit u mei)

alice is frail & pale & beautiful, and toya is in love with him, but he’s a dumbass who only has eyes for dom

dom is an idiot too curious for his own good-- he & hikaru are constantly exploring hella dangerous caverns and scubadiving and just being kids who yOLO EVERYTHING

in contrast, mk is like a nervous wreck who is always trying to get the babes 2 wear sunscreen & not run off so far. they tease him for it, but he loves them & he wants to show them that he can be a Cool Mom (TM) too

rutta is angry & cranky & no one even knows why he agreed to go with them

shayne is rebounding like crazy from a breakup so he’s not that much better. he drinks 2much & flirts 2much, and went from classy --> trashy.

//

so tha story goes laik dis:

the babes spend their first day on the beach. alice, mk, shayne, toya, & rutta are soaking up the sun, and dom & hikaru are ofc gallivanting around like the idiots they are.

mk is super nervous for his babies, & dom’s all like ‘ssh precious child everything will be ok live a little’. mk gets embarrassed & blushy bc - reITERATING - hE WANTS TO BE A COOL MOM (TM)!! dom & hikaru kind of catch onto that & are like!! we have the perfect idea mom!! so dom volunteers to go pARASAILING w/ mk & mk is like internally screaming but he aGREES BC HE WANTS TO DO IT FOR THE VINE

meanwhile, rutta is having a ton of issues with this one kid who is like building the world’s Biggest Sandcastle, but he’s getting sand all over rutta’s towel & rutta’s all like ‘hEY KID FUCK YOU,’ embarrassing his friends & all that whoo. the kid’s like ‘oh yo sorry bro maybe you should move bc i’m making a fRICKING MASTERPIECE.’ rutta’s like ‘fUCKFUCKYOUFUCKFFOYUOYUYOU’ & nothing gets resolved.

dom & hikaru explore this one cavern & hikaru manages to find a box belonging to an ‘alexander chase iv’???// like what kind of a pretentious name is that wtf???/// they find little trinkets like marbles & toys in it and agree to find this kid & return it to him (a la amelie).

when the day is coming to an end, the babes decide to have a lil bonfire party w/ smores n everthing ayoooo!! ofc shayne, rutta, & hikaru brought a lil alcohol, so they all let loose n everything.

hikaru meets this babe named ezekiel, and they have a lot of chemistry, so hikaru invites him back to their beachhouse & they get it on whoo.

alice is starting to notice that he’s gotten sUPER HELLA SUNBURN, & toya is like ‘omg my precious baby no :(’ it’s really painful & alice is mortified, so toya promises to keep it a secret & escorts him back.

with hikaru, alice, toya, & a sleeping mk, dom literally has no one that isn’t drunk to play with, so he scampers off on his own to get himself into trouble. he decides to explore the last cavern he & hikaru haven’t - even though it’s high tide - and ultimately, his stupidity gets him stung by a reef jellyfish. he makes his way back but is intercepted by a lone beachgoer, who just flat-out offers to pee on him & dom just *squints* but he’s in a lot of fucking pain, so the stranger explains that it helps with the sting????/// dom is like sure why not. .. and so he has been marked as the stranger’s fOREVER (his name is tiburon. it’s love at first sight. they live happily ever after.)

so it’s nearing 4 & the beach patrol is late to shut down the babes’ party, which has p much dwindled to just shayne & a few random stragglers. the patrol puts out the fire & is surprised to see shayne just like collapsed face-down on the beach. he’s like ‘ayo bro u alright’ shayne’s like ‘heehee i can’t feel my face’. so the gallant patrol gotta escort shayne back to his beach house, but shayne’s just being hella uncooperative like ‘idk where i live can i just go to your place??’ eventually they find it & shayne is like ‘thank youuuuu my hero omgGMOGMG YOU’RE REEEEEEAL HANDSOME OFFICER’. and the patrol is like ‘gurl--’ shayne’s like ‘my name is shayne & im,,,,, aRRESTING U fOR BEING CUTE hahehah officer,,, bleu,,,,,,,’

right ok. so the next day!!11

hikaru wakes up to ezekiel checking out his lil treasure box & hikaru’s like ‘yeauh bro i found that’. & ezekiel’s like ‘rAD IT’S.,,,,, mINE!!111′ hikaru’s like ‘um no it’s not it’s alexander’s’. ezekiel like ‘i’M ALEXANDER DOG!!11′ hikaru’s like ‘yea rite dude give me some proof.’ ezekiel’s like ‘i buried more treasure in that same cavern wE CAN FIND IT TOGETHER!!11′

alice wakes up next to toya & he’s like!! bro!! i can’t go out i’m hideous!!!!! toya’s like no bb u are always beautiful u are my shining star. alice like ‘stfu toya i’m going to stay in my room forever Q~Q’. toya’s like tHEN I WILL STAY WITH U. alice like ‘my hero less than three’.

meanwhile, mk is all like ‘dom!!!1 i’m ready to do the thing!!’ dom’s like oH YO DUDE I GOT STUNG BY A JELLYFISH AND THIS KID PEED ON MY ARM LOL. but anyway i’m injured so like idk sorry mom. mk’s like oH NO!!!!11 dom’s like yOU HAVE TO GO MK BE BRAVE. so mk goes & he waits in line & he’s so close to doinG IT BUT!! he loses his reserve rIGHT AT THE LAST SECOND. he’s like ‘i can’t do this by myself!! ;A;’ but then the dude behind him in line is like ‘you can do it. i’ll go with you it’s real fun!!’ it’s william & mK HAS THE MOST FUN HE’S EVER HAD EVER!!!!!111 (also will hecka hot so lmao)

OK MEANWHILE! rutta sits in the same spot he did yesterday to sunbathe and he?? notices that the cute lil kid’s sandcastle is gone even though it was?? so massive!! yesterday. in its place is like this large pile of sand & it makes rutta nervous & oh no a little ways away he sees the kid just sitting there, on a beach towel, like his life is over. rutta feels like he should be happy bc someone else is as miserable as he is but!! tHE KID!!! IS!! CUTE!! and he sad, so rutta’s like, ‘hey man. what hapen to ur sandcastle.’ the kid like ‘some dumbass partiers must’ve stumbled all over it.’ rutta like whoops. ‘i’ll help u make another one.’ kid like ‘???/// yOU???/ GRUMPY GRANDPA MAN?//’ ‘dON’T PUSH UR LUCK FUCKFACE’. rutta learns the kid’s name is dayton & he’s a sculptor aND SUPER FUCKING CRAZY & EVERYTHING THAT RUTTA’S NEVER WANTED (but wants).

i wrote so much but that’s kind of all i had planned. dom meets up with tibby again & tibby’s like ‘;)))) i peed on u u are mine forever.’ dom’s like *squints again* sure why not. shayne finds officer bleu while he’s sober & is like ‘hey officer’ & ike’s like ‘!!!!!11 internally screaming’ alice learns that dom & that peeing kid are kind of sort of in like with each other but he’s NOT HEARTBROKEN AT ALL bc he had a weirdly rEALLY good time with toya & might sort of reciprocate????// omfg mk gives will his # and it is oFFICIALLY THE BRAVEST THING HE’S EVER DONE. he’s so proud of himself & will texts him back like right after all sweet & stuff and it is so gooey and cute. hikaru & zeke find like millions of lil treasure boxes and they’re all!!! cute kid stuff!! that makes zeke embarrassed but hikaru loves it & they’re adventure buddies 5ever now rutta & dayton finish their sandcastle & it is the ugliest shit rutta has ever seen, but dayton is like ‘hunny it’s bEAUTIFUL’ and then it’s super beautiful bECAUSE THEY KISS WITH THE SETTING SUN WOW

the end

nascence

Everyone believes, at some point, that Taejin Ryu can be saved. How quick that belief fades, however, is dependent on the individual entirely.

Dayton had believed, for the majority of his life, that he would be the one to save Taejin Ryu. He had pleaded the stars to allow his friend some sort of a peace, a reverie from all the lights, the alcohol, the brutish second skin-- a calm. Though he had no way of going about it, no plan, he knew it must be him-- the wide-eyed boy who stood by Taejin’s side through it all, held his hand, watched as it tore through the sky and burst into flames. He had been there, and he could do nothing. The least he could do was save who was left.

But belief proved weak against whatever curse had been placed upon them both. Taejin sank further and further into himself, and no matter how Dayton pried, he could never get his friend to open up again. He was useless. He was in every position to do something, make a difference-- best friend, confidante, childhood love-- and still could do nothing. Taejin was cruel in his words, and Dayton parried it all with false confidence and bolstered esteem, and every time Taejin challenged him, he could feel his teeth grit and his lips pull into a smile, and he waved it all off as if it meant nothing to him, when he desperately, desperately wanted it all to mean something.

He wanted to mean something.

Maybe he wanted it to mean love. Dayton had loved Aaron, and maybe he had wanted to love Taejin too.

So along came Kirit. And Dayton hated him with every fiber of his being, because Kirit, with his too-bright eyes had been struck by tragedy and had emerged bleeding and limping and innocent, unlike Dayton, unlike Taejin, who had been permanently marred and trying to cover up the scars. Kirit felt everything too much, and Dayton watched him and saw the same spark that he had had maybe years ago. Kirit wanted to be Taejin’s color in a monochromatic world, and Dayton hated the way Taejin’s eyes would stray as if he were succeeding. As if swooping in to steal all of Dayton’s years of work were not some sort of a sin, but rather, a blessing.

Dayton had swallowed hard when he wondered whether Taejin were doing this on purpose to torment him, to eradicate the only piece of his past that remained standing. But such thoughts were so selfish, as if Taejin really cared how all this would affect Dayton Jett, who had ceased to become relevant years ago, when Dayton had stopped trying to save Taejin because he realized that by reaching his hand into the water, he had allowed himself to drown.

And now that Taejin had broken the surface, who would save Dayton?

Taejin’s existence steadily faded from Dayton’s, and Dayton found himself clutching whatever he had was left. Because after the storm, Dayton had found that he was so focused, so obsessed that he had nothing left that he could call his own. Everything had been Taejin’s, and Dayton was too stupid to realize that Taejin could never love a projection of himself. 

What was the point, after all, of loving grayscale, when grayscale was all that Taejin could see?

It’s all very hush-hush when Dayton packs his bags into the trunk of his beat-up Honda. He doesn’t want to see Rutta’s face before he leaves. He’s written a letter; it almost makes him want to vomit, how irrelevant it is, how empty the words are: ‘good luck,’ ‘goodbye,’ good, good, goodness. God, it’d really be better if Dayton hadn’t written anything at all, but he doesn’t want Rutta to be scared half to death, what with his belongings all gone, no sign of Dayton in anything anywhere. Dayton doesn’t explain anything in the letter.

He’s written another letter to Kirit, just with a list of things that Dayton’s observed over the years, little facts about Rutta that Dayton hasn’t wanted to share for a long time. He includes them less for Kirit and more for Rutta, more for Dayton’s peace of mind, that Rutta is in better hands than Dayton can ever provide.

Dayton doesn’t cry, doesn’t feel anything, really, except an odd sort of liberation that comes with cutting loose festering poison with sentimental value.

So he smiles. And it feels a little odd, at first, because his eyes are swollen from lack of sleep. He’s gotten so used to perfecting his smile so that maybe Taejin would like it, but now it’s crooked, only one side of his mouth is curved upwards, but he likes it more than he’s ever liked it in years.

✿ monstacular

Two years after the discovery of recently-shipwrecked Tabax Kellylt, the city of Iling has taken upon itself to become a concentrated home and hub for The Unexplained, the supernatural creatures and anomalies that thrive under government care.

Toya Kawamori is young and successful, an officer and researcher who has just transferred to the division of The Unexplained. No amount of briefing can prepare him, however, for the colorful cast he is about to meet: the infamous alien Tabax, futuristic android Shoto, mysterious entity Willow, slow-moving Limpy, and troublesome vampire Belphont. Saddled with more than he ever could have imagined, Toya finds his fortune changing when an unexpected friendship blooms between himself and his strange new companions.

the robot// Shoto lover of pastels / crocheting enthusiast / bullier of bullies Shoto is an android who claims it’s from the future. After crash-landing into the present, it’s made its number one priority to find its original creator and help him through life in his youth. Incredibly loyal and, at times, incredibly stubborn, Shoto has formed somewhat of an intimate connection between it and its new friends, often drawing or crocheting little trinkets for them to keep. It is ambivalent regarding news of The Unexplained’s new warden but plans to give the new blood grief in order to test him.

the ghost// Willow the old one / the dead one / the creepy one While Willow lacks a physical presence, he more than makes up for it with his creepy communication techniques and cryptic love poems. A writer in his former life, words are the only things that matter, as far as he’s concerned-- even if his companions don’t quite agree. He’s thrilled to find that the new warden of The Unexplained is a fellow bibliophile.

the vampire// Belphont troublemaker / professional princess / accidental murderer Belphont is the original Unexplained’s source of life, the only living being present before Tabax was accepted into its ranks. He is affectionate and friendly, opposite the average prototype vampire, and often wants to try to find ways in which he can spend time in the sunlight. Unfortunately, despite his odd wish to be near such a danger, Belphont’s schemes more often than not end in his being bedridden for more than a couple of days.

the alien// Tabax commander of mach105 / avid researcher of earth / king of naiveté Despite blue skin and long tail, Tabax has always dreamed of feeling at home on Earth’s crust, preferring its oceans and lands to the industrious smog of his home planet. He enjoys conversation and companionship, which he gets in ample amounts from his friends of The Unexplained (with the exception of Willow). The new warden’s arrival warrants celebrations! Party hats! And cake! Lots of yummy Earth-cake!

the zombie// Limpy resident invalid / best listener / cute decomposing guy Limpy is the first (as far as government intelligence knows) man to have been raised from the dead. Initially considered highly dangerous, Limpy’s status has since slipped under the radar due to his rather simple wish of just wanting to live life without his eyeballs falling out of their sockets. He doesn’t remember anything of his past life, but he’d rather not waste any more of his limited brain capacity on such trivial memories.

the warden// Tori guardian of the unexplained / human / sponge of knowledge Toya Kawamori, better known to most everyone as ‘Tori’, is an excellent researcher and an excellent officer. Born into a family notorious for its breakthrough research work, Tori has not since been a disappointment, working both on the field and off it. Not one to be crushed under pressure by such heavy expectations, Tori recently transferred to Iling, home of the dangers of The Unexplained, to start a new chapter in his life, one in which no one his family has traversed before.

rose&crown (iii.)

le stagiaire// darcy didn’t you know it’s trendy for successful businesses to take in underprivileged interns nowadays? poison// ??? antidote// ???

They are interrupted by three, hesitant knocks-- so unsure that neither of them moves to answer at first, waiting to see if another lost patron is just making his way up and down the hallways before finding his destination. When it appears that this is not the case, Teekay manages an apologetic glance before sitting up and moving quietly to the door. He opens it just so that he can make out the figure on the other side. “I’m sorry, I’m not taking clients at this time,” Kalis hears him say. “What, oh no-- I’m not--” It’s the voice of a young man, one that’d barely made it through puberty, the ends of his words still curled in adolescence and youthful pitch. Kalis stands up, curious. “I suppose you could call me an intern, of sorts.” Teekay opens the door wider, so the two can scrutinize their new guest. He’s wearing freshly pressed trousers with suspenders that span over his shoulders and the cotton of a button-up shirt, rolled at the sleeves. On his head sits a paperboy cap that allows him the presence of teenaged part-timer-- no doubt a wardrobe choice put forth by Monsieur Brandt himself, who had always favored youth over more mature types of beauty. “Monsieur Brandt is having me do the rounds, you know, get to know the gentlemen of the house and help them with anything they need. I heard you take tea in the morning, so I put it upon myself to personally deliver. Don’t know how you take it, but I brought--” “-- What’s your name?” Teekay interrupts gently, taking the tray of tea from the young intern’s hands. The boy considers the question a moment. “Monsieur Brandt said you can call me Darcy. Fitzwilliam Darcy, at your service.” “But your real name?” Teekay presses. Kalis shoots him a wary glance before turning his attention to the poor boy. “Oh.” The newly-dubbed Darcy puts both hands in his pockets, almost confused. “Phung’an. That’s what my mum calls me.” Teekay smiles sympathetically, resting a hand on the door frame. “Phung’an. A lovely name. It’d do you well to keep your name to yourself, though, Darcy. In the wrong hands, it could very well be your undoing.” Darcy frowns, eyes dropping down to examine his shoes. “Yes, sir.” “You may call me Teekay. And this is Kalis.” Kalis smiles warmly. “Nice to meet you.” “Thank you for tea. We look forward to seeing you around.”

rose&crown (ii.)

There’s a long, stretched silence heavy in Alice’s eyes; Teekay doesn’t like the way it dulls them, but they lighten up - if only a little - when he approaches. He likes their honesty-- he’s gotten to understand how to read the signs, minute movements and upturn-downturn of the lashes, intimate, familiar. He brushes his knuckles against Alice’s cheeks. “Thank you,” Alice says shortly. “Is he.. -- okay?” “Worse as ever.” Alice sighs, shifts his weight from foot to foot. Teekay watches him, thoughts too fast to comprehend. “You’re not taking the day off today, are you?” “I’m not allowed to mope?” “I don’t want you to.”

Kalis enters Teekay’s room and immediately takes note of the other presence in the room-- Alice, who should be working or entertaining Monsieur Brandt and his guests. Eyes wide and a little afraid, he regards the other male as casually as he can. “Is-- is this a bad time?” Teekay glances over at Alice, lying on his bed and struggling to pull on his stockings. “No, no, not at all,” he answers quickly. “Alice is just getting dressed for work.” Kalis observes the way Teekay’s cheeks color ever so slightly upon the image of their third occupant on his back, lace-framed thighs spreading  almost obscenely to the ceiling. “Of course,” Kalis says softly, freeing Teekay from his reverie. Alice sits up. “Do I-- look okay?” Kalis turns to see him tugging self-consciously at the hem of his shirt, and his own insecurity melts into warmth. He leans forward just so to fix the ribbon hanging around Alice’s neck before he sees Teekay flinch beside him, body itching to be near, to touch, and Teekay’s hands are already looped around Alice’s neck, re-tying the ribbon with ease. He cards his hands through Alice’s hair. “You look great.” Kalis basks in the warmth he feels Teekay practically radiating. “Lovely,” Teekay whispers. Alice offers them both a crooked smile; Kalis can see that praise makes him antsy. “Thanks.” He rubs the back of his neck. “I’ve got to go out there and find someone who deserves my attention. -- But first, I’ve got to pay more attention to myself.” His eyes gleam in a way that Kalis understands this was something he and Teekay had agreed upon. “So today, I’m going to look good and feel good for myself.” His youth is infectious. Kalis feels his own shaky confidence start to build upon itself. Alice leans into Teekay’s side and presses a small kiss to his neck. “Thank you,” he says, before making to leave the room with a final wave to them both. When the door closes behind him, Kalis raises both his eyebrows at Teekay’s troubled expression. He allows silence to pool around them before he speaks, cautiously, “You sure this isn’t a bad time?” Teekay raises his eyes up off the floor, smiles, though Kalis notes sadly, it’s a bit strained. “Of course not, Kalis. I always have time for you.” Kalis folds his legs under him, seating himself comfortably on the carpet. “Well, you know what I’m here about. I-- can’t help but feel selfish because…” He twists his hands together uncomfortably. “... he did nothing wrong, I’m just--” “Love is a very fickle thing,” Teekay prods gently. “There’s nothing wrong about feeling this negativity. I think you’re handling it quite well.” “But I don’t want to feel this way anymore.” Kalis sighs, squeezes his fingers together. “I’m sorry. It-- it just hurts.” Teekay’s eyes fall to the floor once more. “I know.”

“Tibby’s said that you’ve got stars in your eyes, Teekay,” Alice says, when they’re pressed up against each other, underneath Teekay’s sheets. He shifts so that his feet are against Teekay’s legs, and the other male groans, twisting their bodies together so that one of his legs are thrown up around Alice’s body. “I think I can see them now.” “Oh?” “Yes, when we’re together, and I say your name, I think your eyes sort of light up at the sound of it. Teekay.” Teekay feels his body growing hotter. “Really?” “Yes, really.” Alice moves his hand to brush hair from his face. “My starboy. You really are too good to me. One of the best friends I’ve ever had.” He kisses Teekay’s eyelids tenderly, twines their fingers together. Teekay trembles against his body. “What’s wrong?” I ache for you, is what he means to say, but all that leaves his lips is a hollow ‘I’. Alice looks concerned, but he lifts Teekay’s hand to his mouth and presses kisses between the knuckles. He does not know the gravity of what this does to Teekay-- how could he? “If you’re not comfortable telling me, you don’t have to.” He hums against Teekay’s skin. “All in good time, my starboy.” “Darling,” Teekay moans, melancholy grasping at the word. He buries his face into Alice’s shoulder and tries not to weep. “How could you possibly understand?”

rose&crown (i.)

He never wakes in time to see Jacobe leave, always finding himself alone, curled up around what used to be, cold, sometimes shivering. Sometimes Alice is beside him, cleaning out cuts, licking the wounds. Valentine likes Alice, likes the way his fingers feel against Valentine’s skin-- so, so warm. Not at all the way Jacobe makes him feel-- too, too hot.

“Alice,” he croaks, reaching blindly for a hand that the other male snatches away. Hurt flashes through his features before its replaced by a lazy grin. “So here you are again.” “Here I am again,” Alice says, no playful lilt in his voice. He prods the corners of Valentine’s lips with a cotton swab. “Alice,” Valentine says again, resting heavy hand against Alice’s thigh. “I love you. You take good care of me. We should be married.” “In your dreams,” Alice bites back harshly, too quickly. He draws into himself before gingerly moving his hand to brush his knuckles against Valentine’s temple. Valentine flinches. “’ hurts,” he murmurs, though he’s not sure if it’s bones or ego. “Why not?” “Why not what?” “Why can’t we be together?” Valentine presses. “I’m not stupid.” Alice pauses just so slightly to think. “You let Jacobe beat you to a near bloody pulp, and I stitch you back together. You never say thank you. You think that’s a basis for a healthy relationship?” “I love you.” “Shut up, Val.” “I love you, Alice.” Valentine pushes himself up onto his elbows and takes Alice’s face into his hands, presses an open-mouthed kiss onto his lips and then down his jaw. When he pulls away, he really wishes he hadn’t because Alice looks at him with tears in his eyes, a storm, a fury that Valentine doesn’t understand. Alice doesn’t say anymore, packs up and leaves. Valentine is alone again in an empty bed.

The next time he opens his eyes and finds Jacobe gone, bruises lining his skin, teeth marks marring his neck, his back, the imprint of a collar that has yet to fade, he doesn’t wake to Alice gently wiping away the blood, Alice with love and adoration in his young, young eyes, Alice who is too prideful to admit he loves Valentine because Valentine can never really love him back. Instead he finds Teekay, eyes hard and mouth unsmiling, sewing up a cut with cold calculation. “Teekay,” Valentine greets, trying to sound fond and not at all shaken at the obvious missing presence in the room. “It’s a nice surprise to--” “Don’t talk to me,” Teekay quips sharply, driving needle into skin with more force than necessary. “And don’t talk to Alice. In fact, just don’t talk. Maybe then you’ll learn a lesson in sensitivity.” Valentine clamps his mouth shut for the remainder of their time together.

fake!married is the best trope and i never tire of it no matter how many are written and how badly they end up being.

undercover!married is even better. “we have to lull our adversary into complacency by being as MARRIED AS POSSIBLE.” 

meet-weird aus

“we catch the same bus home and i always fall asleep, but you always wake me up at my stop” 

“you come into my 24hr diner at the oddest times bc of your weird job but you keep forgetting that we talk because youre always sleep deprived”

“my neighbour keeps ordering weird shit but they dont want to face the mailperson’s judgement so they keep using my address instead”

“i run the night slot on campus radio and some jackass keeps calling in to insult my music taste and request high school musical songs instead”

“escaped to the laundry room to avoid hearing my room-mates having extremely loud sex only to find you’re here doing the same thing”

“sorry i knocked you out in that bar fight last night, but i brought you to the hospital and stuck around ‘til you woke up to apologize”

“you were trash talking my favourite character in the cinemas and obviously i need to show you the light, even if i have to buy you a burger to get you to listen”

“our mutual friend dropped out of this trip at the last minute, so hi i guess we’re spending the next two weeks together”

“you forgot to remove your snarky sticky note comments in this textbook and since i got kicked out of the library for laughing too loudly, im going to reply to each and every one”

“i lost my asshole friends in this club and im kinda drunk and youre kinda gorgeous, please help me”

“since there’s only one can of energy drink left in the store, which we both need to survive the disgustingly boring lecture we just discovered we both have, how about we share it”

nothing at all | nothing on you (ii/x)

“How was your quiz?” Ike asks, barreling into Coby’s shoulder that afternoon. Coby flails and smacks Toya in the face, retaliates by jabbing his hand under Ike’s ribs, and Ike punches his arm as Toya looks on, clearly concerned.

“It was terrible,” Coby says, after recovering and taking a huge bite of his tuna sandwich. “No thanks to you.”

Toya shoots both of his friends a disappointed look, as if Coby had just launched into every detail of his and Ike’s sex life.

Ike grins playfully, and Coby sputters out an, “I didn’t even say anything!”

Ike ignores the outburst. “Glad I could help.” He winks. “Anyway, can’t stay, have things to do, people to see. Just wanted to check up on ya.” He gives Toya a hearty pat on the back. “Later nerds!” Coby admires the smooth lines of his body as he walks off.

“Incredible,” Toya sighs. “It’s truly incredible that you’re able to put up with him for so long. Like a windstorm. I can hardly imagine how it feels to date him, if I’m honest.”

“-- We’re not dating!” Coby protests, taking another bite of his sandwich to hide his obvious discontentment. “We’re just.. friends.”

“Friends,” Toya repeats slowly, drumming his fingers on the tabletop. “.. Friends who bed each other every other night? I apologize for the crudeness, but Langer informed me he had heard the two of you through the door last night, when he stopped by to drop off notes for Ike.”

“Shut up, Toya!!” Coby hisses, kicking Toya’s leg under the table. “You have to put up with him because you’re friends with him too!”

Toya rubs his knee gingerly. “Yes, Jacobe.. but there is a clear difference between making him do his homework and making sweet love to him on a day to day--”

Coby kicks him again (extra hard this time).

It’s not that Coby is really embarrassed by the ordeal or anything, and Ike is a very good friend, if he thinks logically about it. Coby rationalizes this himself, later when Ike pushes past him on the way to Coby’s bed, kicking off his shoes at the door, and chirping over his shoulder that he got Coby two churros on a Costco run. Ike is a very good friend because he has this intuition when it comes to Coby-- he knows when Coby’s been craving churros the whole day, and he also knows when to talk Coby’s ear off and when to sit down and shut up, throwing an arm around him in both scenarios. When Coby talks with Ike, it’s easy to find the words, natural. Silences are comfortable.

It’s just that.. sometimes, when they’re sitting on Coby’s bed, watching Terminator 2 for the fourth time together and Coby turns his head a fraction of an inch to watch Ike laugh, he wants something more, something special, something that actually means something to Ike, like it does to Coby. He’s not even sure what Ike seems to think of their arrangement, but he’s almost sure Ike doesn’t spend his free time dissecting everything Coby does and says, which is what Coby’s taken to doing lately. That has to mean something.

“Did you even shower,” Coby says, after watching Ike bury himself into his sheets. Ike is the quarterback of their football team. Coby knows all-too-well all of Ike’s plays, having been dragged to practice sessions on a weekly basis for moral support, despite the fact that Coby could really care less about team sports. Coby also knows all-too-well that Ike can sometimes be disgustingly sweaty.

Ike smiles up at him. “Nah.” He shifts a little so he’s more comfortable. “I know how much you love my natural musk.”

Coby aims to throw his lab manual at Ike’s head, but it ends up hitting only the side of his legs. He huffs, embarrassed.

Ike muffles his laughter into the blankets. After a pause, in which Coby attempts to re-evaluate his life’s choices, Ike beckons him over with a wave of his hand. “Hey, come here.”

Coby spares him a glance. He plops down into the swivel chair beside his desk. “I’m working.”

“No you’re not. Come here. I have to tell you something.”

“No,” Coby insists, because he hates the way he gets worked up over stupid things, the way he has the tiniest flicker of hope whenever Ike says super vague, super cryptic things like this. He sees Ike pouting in the corner of his eye.

The next thing he knows, though, Ike is up and beside him, throwing him into a headlock and leaning over his shoulder to whisper something into his ear. Coby curls up instinctively - he’s ticklish - and he can’t make out any of what Ike’s saying, though it sounds like the words to a song. Ike’s lips just barely grazing his ear makes it all the more worse. His heart beats much faster than necessary.

And then Ike’s pulling away, shoving him into the front of his desk and falling onto his bed again, laughing. Coby tries to glare at him, but he knows his cheeks are much too red to be threatening. He tries to swallow down any thoughts of this being more intimate than it really is; after all, Ike and Coby have been in much, much more compromising situations, and this is-- just fun with friends, nothing more. “What’s your problem.”

Ike hides his laugh behind a hand. “I did that today to Alex, and he squirmed so much, he almost exploded. It was hilarious, he was so tickled.”

Ah, so this was some sort of social experiment then. Coby is the dependent variable, and he most definitely is not special. Shut up, shut up, shut up, he tells his disappointed heart. He picks up his eraser and throws it with calculated precision at Ike’s forehead. Bullseye. Toya always did say that Coby was much more focused when he was angry. “What are you, four? Only babies get satisfaction out of tickling people.” He feigns disdain.

“No, cool people,” Ike says, though the smallest of frowns is beginning to tug on his lips. He doesn’t sound as playful as he did a few seconds ago. “What’s with you today?”

“Nothing,” Coby says too quickly. “How was practice?”

Something goes out in Ike’s eyes, and he’s quiet for a bit, turning his head to look out the window. Coby knows him well enough to tell that he knows something is off about Coby, but Ike won’t press it if Coby doesn’t want to talk about it. This is, actually, one of Coby’s favorite things about Ike.

“Was good, I guess. Made two touchdowns,” Ike deadpans.

Coby grunts. “Congrats.”

Ike’s eyes fall back on him. “Hey,” he prompts softly, before sitting up and moving toward him to drag him to bed. “Let’s do something. Netflix added World War Z pretty recently. You haven’t watched that yet, right?”

“Yeah,” Coby concedes, allowing Ike to tuck in beside him. He doesn’t want to fight Ike anymore, to have to hide everything he feels for the other male. He doesn’t move when Ike rests his head against Coby’s, and he’s annoyed at himself for holding his body so stiffly for Ike throughout the whole movie.

nothing at all | nothing on you (i/x)

It’s the second time this week that Coby is lying naked in Ike’s bed, sweaty and spent and (barely) worrying about the Experimental Psych quiz he has at two o’ clock the next day. Ike rolls over onto his stomach and crushes half of Coby’s body with his own, and Coby scowls and shoves him off because it’s three in the morning, and he really shouldn’t have time for this shit.

“Are you gonna stay and cuddle, or should I just go shower?” Ike asks, sounding not-at-all offended.

“I have a quiz tomorrow.”

Ike hums, pulling the covers over his toes to keep out the chill. He’s clearly still blissed out. “Last time you had a quiz, we stayed up until, like, five, and you still passed.”

Coby makes a show of rolling his eyes before sitting up and picking his boxers up off the floor. He tries his best to pretend the loss of warmth doesn’t want to make him lie right back down next to Ike and spend the rest of what’s left of their evening with him. Ike pouts. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” Coby says, as casually as he can.

It’s not like he’s really going back to his apartment to study, no. Coby’s already flunking out of Psych, and he’s almost positive a weekly quiz isn’t going to help him pass it. He’s going back to get at least a few hours of sleep. And maybe another reason he’s leaving is because he doesn’t like waking up in Ike’s big, strong arms, doesn’t like the intimacy of Ike’s eyelashes fluttering in morning sun because they don’t have a label yet on this.. thing. Coby assumes he and Ike are friends with benefits. After all, his relationship with Ike is practically the same as his relationship with Toya, with Ashlee-- except for these moments, the times they fall in bed together, when Coby’s collarbone is marked with teeth and Ike’s back has imprints of nails. Coby honestly doesn’t have much of a problem with this, this arrangement - sex with Ike is glorious - except there’s one tiny little problem.

The problem being.. Coby has an incredibly gigantic crush on Ike, has harbored one since they were kids, when Ike had smiled his blindingly bright smile and Coby had fallen for him because he was (is) an easily movable, lovesick fool.

But anyway, just a tiny problem. Not much to worry about.

Coby lies in his bed and doesn’t sleep for the next five hours.

Won’t you make up your mind

three hours later (ii/ii)

It’s been three hours since he said he’d go pick Shayne up. Three hours, and it’s three o’ clock now, but Langer can’t seem to open his eyes, much less move his body. Three hours.

He’s been lying here for three hours, in his own skin, wanting his bones to crawl out and find somewhere else to settle-- maybe somewhere in the country, where he could chew barley and live under clear skies. Anywhere but here.

He hears the soft click of the balcony door, and his right hand begins shaking. The blood on his knuckles is beginning to flake off. “Oh my God.” And then there are hands touching him, smoothing down the skin on his back, rubbing him where it hurts.

“No,” he murmurs, panic rising in his chest. “Not again, please.” You promised you wouldn’t let them touch me if I were awake.

“Langer, Langer..”

And then there’s pressure. Suffocating, searing pressure, and despite his body screaming at him to stop everything, Langer opens his eyes, and begins thrashing. “Don’t-- DON’T TOUCH ME--”

He slams his fist into the closest thing he can reach.

Shayne knows now how sensitive Langer is to touch. The first night he found Langer there, lying in bed with a bottle of sleeping pills to help numb the pain, he received a black eye for his efforts.

Watching Langer now, breathing in and out, so steady, so calm, Shayne can barely remember him as the Langer who screamed at him, hysterical. Back then, it had taken Langer half an hour to get out of the blanket Shayne had draped over his shoulders-- such a simple task took half an hour. Shayne had watched him, tried to help because Langer was just tangling himself up in the sheets, but Langer had shouted and shouted and shouted at him, and Shayne shrunk back and tried to shut out his voice.

Of course, the fucking basketball captain, the boy who everybody wanted to be, had mental issues. Of course.

When he was finally free of the blanket, Langer crawled into one of the corners of his room and laid his forehead against the wall, didn’t speak for about two hours. Shayne had considered leaving - many times - but Langer had looked so small. In his pride, he would never ask for Shayne’s help, even if Shayne was the only one he could cling to in his desperation.

Shayne doesn’t shake Langer awake. He sits on the edge of Langer’s bed and waits for Langer to get up himself.

“Oh, shit.. oh, fuck,” Langer slurs, without opening his eyes. “You’re here.”

“You forgot about our date,” Shayne says. The words are too sharp, too harsh to be spoken to anyone in this state, but Langer loves heat. He loves being hated for reasons because his father never gave him any. Shayne doesn’t want Langer to be the villain, but Langer would rather be the abuser than the abused.

“I fell asleep,” Langer says, wry smile tugging at his lips. Shayne ignores the way blood beads at the corners of his mouth and the way he runs his tongue over the wound carefully. He looks as if he’s been bitten - all over - in addition to the beatings today. His father must have brought in a client with a voracious sexual appetite. “Love my dad,” Langer had said casually, one day, before Shayne knew anything about his predicament. The words, as far as Shayne could tell, were sincere. “He knows the ins and outs of a business. Lets me keep some of the money I make when I work for ‘im.”

“Don’t let it happen again next time,” Shayne says, voice breaking.

Langer frowns, eyes still closed. “Yeah, sure, whatever, babe. Don’t get too clingy.”

EXO - Call Me Baby (chinese ver.)

tail-ends. (ii/??)

Ike’s father married another woman not too long after the death of his first wife. His new stepmother was a beautiful woman, sharp-eyed with dark hair, but she didn’t particularly love Ike, didn’t want his father to love him more than either her or her own sons. It wasn’t difficult to convince his father that she was the authority when it came to Ike’s upbringing. Stricken with grief, Ike’s father agreed to any and all of his new wife’s ideas, schemes to cast the boy further and further away from his father and, consequently, the public eye.

It was on Ike’s seventh birthday that his stepmother introduced him to his new home for the next thirteen years: Rasasvada, a tower she had constructed to house only him, in isolation, for the rest of his life. The boy’s growing beauty was beginning to irritate her, so she decided to ‘put him away,’ once and for all. The only human contact he would have came in the form of one Colton Takahashi, a man whose loyalty Ike would never understand. His stepmother had saved Colton from a certain fate, and thus, Colton felt obliged to serve the rest of his life under hers.

Ike spent the next few years talking to none but Colton, yearning to know of the world outside, but the other male was under strict orders to not speak of such things. Instead, Colton brought Ike books, taught him songs to sing when he was feeling particularly lonely. Ike had learned to numb himself from such negativity. He painted the walls of his tower and tried to push the desire to leave down his throat.

Eventually, Ike Bleu became forgotten.

(Forgotten-- but he could still be found.)

In his eighteenth year, his eleventh year residing in Rasasvada, Ike encountered the son of fortune and mischief. The creature called out to him in the darkness of the evening, voice still strung high in youth and mirth. He had heard Ike singing of lost time and past regrets, and, unlike most of the help who worked in the Bleu household, did not believe the mistress when she told him the tower was haunted, had been for many years now.

“Hello?” he tried, cautiously. “.. Is anybody up there?”

Ike froze from where he stood, beside the only window in the tower, shrunk when he heard the sound of another voice.

“My name is Dominic. I’m a servant here.” The boy paused. “I don’t know whether you’re a person or a ghost or a monster, and I don’t.. care, really, what you are. I just-- thought maybe you could use a friend.”

At those words, Ike clasped his hands together nervously, twisting them into the hem of his shirt. A friend he did need. He peered carefully out into the moonlight and found a boy about fourteen standing just outside his tower, the same frightened expression written on his face when Ike stepped fully into view and revealed himself. The boy looked harmless, perhaps even a little lost.

“Hi,” Ike began shyly. “My name is.. Ike Bleu.”

tail-ends. (i/??)

This story, like most stories, begins with a ‘once upon a time.’ It is a story of danger, of handsome princes and mythical creatures, of the power of true love to stand against life’s trials and tribulations. Above all, it is a story of a young man, one who decided to take fate into his own hands, mold himself into what others thought he would never be-- a hero.

Once upon a time, there was a woman, sweet as sunshowers in mid-summer, but weak as leaves in the tail-ends of autumn. She lived in the aristocratic quarter of town, with her loving husband and soon-to-be firstborn, and life, as far as she was concerned, couldn’t have given her any more to wish for.

One winter day, while the woman sat sewing by the window-side, she absentmindedly pricked one of her fingers on her needle, and the sight that she saw before her, the contrast of blood against newly-fallen snow, gave her a vision of her child’s future. He was to have snow-white skin and blood-red lips, hair the color of the cherrywood windowpane. His eyes would be the brightest in town; his smile, the subject of romantic poetry. Pleased that her son would grow up to be so fair, so handsome, the woman thought, just knowing this, she could die happy.

Little did she know, however, that these thoughts would soon seal her fate, and her son’s beauty would ultimately be his greatest weakness.

Months passed quickly, and the little boy was born. But his birth was no cause for celebration-- for his birth had cost his mother her life. From the day he was born, Ike Bleu, oceans in his eyes, found himself surrounded by misfortune.

And this is his story.

three hours later (i/ii)

It’s been three hours since Langer said he’d come pick him up. Three hours, and it’s three o’ clock now, but the wait isn’t really what’s worrying, no. What’s really worrying is the lack of shit excuse to blow the whole situation over: Langer’s infamous ‘I’m sick,’ ‘I changed my mind,’ ‘Going over to Q’s instead. Don’t wait up.’ But today, there’s nothing. No call, no text, no bullshit.

Shayne paces the room, nibbling furiously at the nail of his thumb before stopping himself and accessing the damage. Three hours, no word. He hates the way he can physically feel the anxiety, heavy against his chest, throat dry. No one should ever make Shayne Marinello feel this way-- no one, except Lorelai West, and the last time Shayne checked, Langer was a six-foot blonde douchebag, not a black, pink-haired punk goddess.

Annoyed by his frayed nerves, Shayne grabs his coat off the bed and makes his way downstairs, wordlessly opening the front door and letting in the evening chill. His family is more or less used to the idea of him coming and going as he pleases, and he doesn’t object to this freedom. He doesn’t need to feel their care, just needs them to be out of his way. The crisp air clears his head somewhat.

He climbs into his Porsche and sits, thoughtful, weighing the pros and cons of his options. The best he can do right now is drive directly to Langer’s house. Pro: He’ll have peace of mind once he finds out what Langer’s been up to. Con: He’ll feel like a stood-up fool if Langer is asleep, blissfully unaware of the date they were supposed to be having three hours ago.

Shayne considers calling someone, but nobody comes to mind-- nobody, at least, who will make things better than if Shayne were to go alone. Lorelai knows nothing about Langer, other than the fact that she finds him attractive. Ike Bleu would murder Langer if everything turned out to be a false alarm. Toya Kawamori-- Shayne’s not ready to owe Toya anything.

He parks a few blocks away from Langer’s house. It’s not ideal if he needs a ready escape, but Langer’s house honestly just gives Shayne the creeps; Langer himself told Shayne never to park anywhere nearby if he wanted to visit.

Shayne pulls his coat tighter against his body, walks briskly to his destination.

Langer’s window faces the backyard. It’s easy to hop the fence and climb the terrace to the second-floor balcony. Even easier to know that, if Shayne were to make more noise than necessary, Langer’s father is never home.

The lights are on in his room. Shayne pulls himself up onto the balcony.

Inside, under dim lamplight. Langer is asleep atop the covers, chest rising and falling in even breaths. Shayne feels disappointment well up in his lungs, something prickling behind his eyelids, before he notices a small bottle of sleeping pills on Langer’s nightstand. It’s toppled over. Irrefutable evidence.

Wetting his lips nervously, unrequited puppy love all but gone, Shayne plucks the balcony key from in-between the wooden planks of the banister. ‘For emergencies only,’ Langer had said, lowly, voice almost dipping into a growl. Shayne unlocks the door and enters, softly, toeing off his shoes. This is something of an emergency. He picks up the bottle among its spilled contents and turns it over in his hands. Langer looks peaceful, vulnerable, almost. But the crescent-shaped marks on his arms, flakes of dried blood on his skin speak of something much different than peace, vulnerability.

Shayne swallows hard and sits beside him on the bed, running his thumb across Langer’s cheek. Slowly, he stirs.

The Excessively Detailed Headcanon Tumblr Meme

Send me some numbers, and I will tell you:

What does their bedroom look like?

Do they have any daily rituals?

Do they exercise, and if so, what do they do? How often?

What would they do if they needed to make dinner but the kitchen was busy?

Cleanliness habits (personal, workspace, etc.)

Eating habits and sample daily menu

Favorite way to waste time and feelings surrounding wasting time

Favorite indulgence and feelings surrounding indulging

Makeup?

Neuroses? Do they recognize them as such?

Intellectual pursuits?

Favorite book genre?

Sexual Orientation? And, regardless of own orientation, thoughts on sexual orientation in general?

Physical abnormalities? (Both visible and not, including injuries/disabilities, long-term illnesses, food-intolerances, etc.)

Biggest and smallest short term goal?

Biggest and smallest long term goal?

Preferred mode of dress and rituals surrounding dress

Favorite beverage?

What do they think about before falling asleep at night?

Childhood illnesses? Any interesting stories behind them?

Turn-ons? Turn-offs?

Given a blank piece of paper, a pencil, and nothing to do, what would happen?

How organized are they? How does this organization/disorganization manifest in their everyday life?

Is there one subject of study that they excel at? Or do they even care about intellectual pursuits at all?

How do they see themselves 5 years from today?

Do they have any plans for the future? Any contingency plans if things don’t workout?

What is their biggest regret?

Who do they see as their best friend? Their worst enemy?

Reaction to sudden extrapersonal disaster (eg The house is on fire! What do they do?)

Reaction to sudden intrapersonal disaster (eg close family member suddenly dies)

Most prized possession?

Thoughts on material possessions in general?

Concept of home and family?

Thoughts on privacy? (Are they a private person, or are they prone to ‘TMI’?)

What activities do they enjoy, but consider to be a waste of time?

What makes them feel guilty?

Are they more analytical or more emotional in their decision-making?

Would they consider themselves a Type A or Type B personality?

What recharges them when they’re feeling drained?

Would you say that they have a superiority-complex? Inferiority-complex? Neither?

How misanthropic are they?

Hobbies?

How far did they get in formal education? What are their views on formal education vs self-education?

Religion?

Superstitions or views on the occult?

Do they express their thoughts through words or deeds?

If they were to fall in love, who (or what) is their ideal?

How do they express love?

If this person were to get into a fist fight, what is their fighting style like?

Is this person afraid of dying? Why or why not?