#yancy x reader

Home for the Holidays (Fluff)

Mine-Yandere! Yancy x Reader (Nsfw-ish)

Thought Yous Could Get Away?-Yandere! Yancy x Reader

3D Boob Mouse Pad (Headcanons)

Darkiplier

split on the issue.

when it slips out from you - there's something about them that just clicks, immediately in fight or flight mode as they battle with internal conflict - something that happens so often when you say or do something they did not expect. their eyes will turn into slits then, slowly turning towards you until they face you fully, not saying anything - at least, not until they decided who's in charge more, until the parts of them have battled it out enough for them to actually give a sensible reaction, to feel one feeling instead of so many at once. this is an issue, as it can oftentimes leave you hanging for a minute or so until they actually remember they have to say something back, or in some way acknowledge you again. there are so few things that put Dark off, that, really, this is a triumph! pat yourself on the back, because Dark is quite literally bluescreening. hell, if you listen closely enough, you might even hear some static! (and, if you'd caught them at a particularly vulnerable time, when their emotions are running high and rampant, only to be snuffed out by a single comment - you'll even see their reactions in real time, the many heads of them coming to surface as they take- ghostly? glitching? form, cloning about in several different kinds of reactions, all which dissapear once Dark decides what they actually want to say. it's best if you ignore those, in reality - but damn if it isn't at least a little bit funny.)

if Celine's the one in control, you can expect the worst. or, the best? depending on how you view it. if this is the case, the stare and the stoicism will easily melt off into a kind of contentedness, a kind of self-pleasing victory that sits in their chest, kneading like a cat across the expanse of their suit. they might even include a bit of teasing, if they feel so inclined. a steady 'Pardon?' with a crooked, barely visible smirk and an adjusting of their suit, specifically tugging on their jacket's lapel to settle it back into place where it's getting stretched from a few too many deeply taken breaths. what did you say? they didn't quite catch that. say it again? oh, and if you do? if you don't get all flustered on them, if you're assertive and, well- take what you want? you can expect to be pulled into their lap, heavily, sensually touched at the least, and well- more, uh, intimate things at the most. on average, you'll usually be very passionately kissed all over, or tugged into a private, makeout session until your lips are red, puffy and raw. Dark isn't much for affection, at least not the kind of public displays some may lavish their partner with - those are things more reserved away from the eyes of others. therefore, if you do do it in front of others - expect a cough, a strict look you can only interpret as a displeased one, and a glossing over of the entire incident before returning to the topic at hand. later, if you're alone and you mention it again, they will be stricter with you. you know they don't enjoy those kinds of things in public - why are you being difficult? boundaries are there for a reason. must they remind you, again? but if you're doing it in private? all over you, without question - at least while Celine's in charge, as opposed to Damien.

if Damien's in charge, there are still remnants of Celine in there, don't get it twisted. as there are hints of Damien in the moments of when Celine's in charge, as well. in the cases when Damien wins over, however, all you can expect is confusion. don't get them wrong, they're still... pleased you're interested, but... now? now? right now? you had to do this, right now? what brought this on? what did they do, if they did do something? it's not worry, not quite - Dark's way too confident and assertive to be that insecure, but, well- was there a trigger? if so, they'd like to know. is this something you'd be keen on trying? is this something you're interested in? you should've let them know beforehand. all in all, if Damien's in charge, Dark treats it more like a conversation to be had, almost business-like in their approach. they wouldn't outwardly react positively or negatively to it, no, but you know that underneath all that is some sort of satisfaction, however mild and well covered it may be. this, you can read solely from the fact that there's no questioning of whether you're sure or not, whether this is something that you're lacking, but instead - is this something Dark could work on? is this something extra, something added onto your already existing relationship? it's treated as something additional, something new you could both explore - and better yet, something normal. something that, above all, Dark wants you to be comfortable in before proceeding. it's the assurance provided by both of their sides, mixed perfectly.

in their entirety, though- joke or not, coincidence or not, Dark would actually enjoy exploring something like that with you. but the angle is somewhat different. instead of something, well, to some extent inappropriate or shameful, or even coy in nature, it's just another way of saying 'I want you.', except in this new, unexplored way. or at least, that's how Dark thinks of it. it's just another way of saying you're theirs, fully and truly - and another way they can reassure you in your choice of partner. after all, they can give you anything you want. can't they?

Yancy

well, there's definetly a transitional period there.

you may be very surprised when you first mention this to Yancy, coincidentally or intentionally - because, unfortunately, this just makes him think of fathers, and then of- his father- and then- of his crimes, and oh. oh no. oh no, he's not doing well. he's looking at you in a confused manner, almost frozen in place, but what he's focused on isn't the funny part of it (if it was meant as a joke) or even the, well, more sensual part of it - but instead, the association he has with the word in general just cuts him down entirely. as in, he almost shuts down completely. of course, he tries to play it off, like he usually does - he's not- he's not upset, you see, he's just, ah, surprised! you're so surprising! gosh, he's not- oh. oh, there he goes, stuttering his words. oh no. now he's going partially nonverbal. oh, oh- quickly! say you were joking! oh goodness- hug him, now, hug him-

it takes some getting used to. definetly.

if this is a serious idea you have, something you genuinely want to try with him, you could definetly make it work! it'll just take a bit of trial and error to get there. Yancy's... well, not delicate, but he certainly has a set of triggers, and unfortunately, you've found one! oops. but that's nothing a healthy conversation about boundaries and limits can't fix! if that's what you're into, sure, he can try it - the approach you take is, then, what makes the whole thing a 'make it or break it' kind of situation. the key is to take it slow - explain why you're into it, so he slowly begins to understand, and most importantly, emphasize that it has no tie, whatsoever, to the crimes he committed, nor that you blame him for them, or take them against him. (if you do in general, that relationship is just, not going to work. I'm sorry.) separating these two is extremely important. only then, after he's comfortable with you enough, can you really attempt it. and oh, if you suceed at these? you're in for a treat.

once he realizes what you mean by it, once he gets the idea - sure, he can play it up for you! if it's a joke, he'll lean even further into it, teasing you and coaxing out responses from you until you're beet red, trying to admit what you wanted- if it's a genuine thing for you, well he can- certainly try to be accomodating. (though even then, he'll be pretty soft witcha. don't expect much in terms of immediate responsiveness from him, since he'll be a bit unsure of how to approach it, even if he's pretending to be super competent at it. just take it slow.) if it was a slip-up? uh, he can forget about it, if you want. but only if you want to! he doesn't want you forcing yourself away from it if he's willing to have a serious conversation about it. why would you shy away from something that makes it all click for you? c'mon, talk to him.

just don't be super forceful, and if you really want to make it a whole thing, be patient with the guy. and hey, if it's something you want to forget as soon as possible, he's right there with you, too. lips sealed. don't worry about it, dollface, he didn't hear aaaaanything.

Head Engineer! Mark

uh, Captain, are you feeling alright, there?

as you're coughing and sputtering out of embarrassment of letting it slip by without intending to, he's all over you. what did you say? what was that? seriously, you're not going to tell him? c'mon, Captain, he's your Engineer! y'know you can tell him anything, right? even the super embarrassing stuff! he'll start talking your ear off about things he did to make you more comfortable with fessing up - small secrets, tidbits, personality quirks (most of which you knew already, seeing as he is wearing his heart on his sleeve most of the time, but he doesn't need to know that). if you end up telling him, what awaits you is silence as his skintone slowly changes, boiling over into a deep, beet red. wha- C-Captain! you can't say things like that! do you even know- what- that means?? of course you do, you're like, super smart and all, but- Captain! how- what- huh?? he's so flustered he can barely get the words out. seriously, at some point he'll probably escape the conversation with some excuse about 'oh the warpcore needs looking at' or 'I haven't checked in with Burt yet today', literally anything to just flee the room (something that is rare by itself - he's usually glued to your side as much as humanly possible. or, at least, as much as is polite, under reasonable circumstances. it kind of feels strange, not having him by your side.)

now, you could take advantage of this, if you so choose.

as a joke, this can turn into a beyond hilarious situation - if you are the teasing type, of course. any time you mention it, if even a little, he'll flinch violently, suddenly either dropping whatever tool he was using or doing something similarly clumsy - spilling coffee all over his overalls, completely missing the part of the wall he was going to lean onto, tripping over invisible steps - really, anything you could think of. of course, you'll make sure to get him to the infirmary if he injures himself, but he's blushing heavily all the while. but at the end of the day, he'll return the favor just as feverishly - visiting you in your Captain's quarters as he interrogates you - what the heck was that? Captain, seriously, he holds a lot of respect for you - but, but - you can't just confuse him like that! he has a job to do! you can't- just- aaaagh! you can be so frustrating, y'know? but like, he doesn't like you any less, but just, ugh, y'know?

this is the perfect opportunity to corner him, if you are actually serious about your offer. press him against the wall a little, get a bit too deep into his bubble - and repeat it. until he melts, or until he gets so flustered he turns annoyed, and then all the reason's out of the metaphorical window. that's- you can't- do that, Captain! what the hell?? that's so- and then you mention how he must be blushing because he likes it, and everything falls silent while he ponders that notion.

conclusion: he doesn't mind it to the point it angers him, but he struggles with being teased and with taking a dominant role in the whole conversation regarding it, especially because of your own rank. just be careful not to overstep, if you tend to toe the line. sometimes you can be a bit much, Captain.

(if you'd rather forget about it, though, he won't mention it, either. he will look at you strangely for the few weeks after it, and maybe, just maybe - if you're lucky, he'll ask you why you did it and then just quit immediately, which is when you can have a proper conversation with him about it. surprisingly, he's actually really okay with it (and even more so with trying it, if you're that serious about it - anything for his Captain), as long as it's talked about prior. he does still have the tendency of blushing whenever you bring it up, though, in public or in private, doesn't matter.)

Actor! Mark

speaking of teasing.

fully gets into it and knows exactly what you mean - even if you don't mean what he thinks you do? it's a joke, you assure him as he slowly, menacingly backs you up into the nearest wall - just a joke! but not to him, because oh, aren't you just darling? firstly, he sees it as a way to exploit you, so to say? it's an opportunity to tease the hell out of you - what did you say? oh, really, now? why don't you explain - exactly - why that would be in any way an appropriate joke to say? or, if you're serious, why exactly that's something you're into? c'mon. he's going to find out either way, so it's best if you fess up now. (in great, excruciating detail.)

immediately assumes the most depraved option. it's not the most unusual thing he's heard, though - since he comes from an era where people are used to experimenting with stranger nicknames and petnames - but is this really the road you want to go down? is this really how you want people to know you call him, even as a joke? my, isn't that embarrassing, little darling? and he so loves to see you squirm in your spot as you try to think of an excuse. he'll mention it often, especially after it transpired - doesn't care if it's in public or not, either. you'll hear nonchalant notions like, 'What was that that you called me x days ago?' or, 'Mmm, you didn't say that before. Why don't you try again?', or, (the most uncomfortable one, especially if you did it unintentionally and/or as a joke), 'Come sit on daddy's lap, won't you, gorgeous?' (that physically hurt to write, holy shit- but he would. he would.). this man has no shame whatsoever. like, not even a smidge. he's sitting there, smug as ever, grinning like he's the Chesire Cat incarnate. oh, and if you try and run away from him? try and escape the horrid feelings of the utter and complete need for the ground to swallow you whole (whether that makes you, khm, excited or embarrassed)? no, no, you're not going a. ny. where. he'll pull you towards him forcefully, make you sit there, pressing up against him, while he repeats it over, and over and over again, addressing himself in third person, playing with your clothing or hair while you hide your face behind the palms of your hands, the heat permeating through you like a pulsating wave, like you're at such a level of ripeness your cheeks might just explode and burst open.

do not even attempt to test this man, and if you can - pay close attention to your own words/actions as to not provoke him. trust that he will not let it go, not ever. even if you say you're embarrassed, asking him to stop mentioning it - honey, you're just adding fuel to the flame, just stroking his ego even further. for your own sake, try to hold yourself back. he loves the power it gives him way too much to leave you be.

Wilford Warfstache

stops in the middle of the conversation to let the word linger, but carries on as per usual in a matter of seconds.

being someone who originated from the 1920s (just like the Actor, or Damien), he's heard of people calling each other strange things - hell, he calls his good friends 'bully', still! he knows he's out of the loop a little, what with his age, and- wait- what year is it again? ah, whatever. he'll usually sweep off to the side, and won't adress it really, afterwards. instead, he'll just accept it! cool, you have a new petname for him? he can roll with it, cupcake, don't worry your cute little head about it! (he'll even cradle your face while reassuring you, patting your cheeks as he leans his hands against them as if he's trying to say 'there, there.' while you look on at him, utterly confused.) immediately takes to calling himself that, too, in your presence (as a third person kind of addressing). if you're embarrassed in any way, shape or form, you'll really have to drag him to the side to explain exactly why you feel that way, and even then- what, did he misunderstand something? you were so clear about it! but, well- if you have boundaries, he gets it. (he will still slip up sometimes. he kind of likes it, actually, and that's a fact that either horrifies you more and more as he continues to slip up, or makes situations awkward, more than they could ever be. thankfully for you - no one really bats an eye to what Wil does/says these days, and even better if you're someone who'd be embarrassed by the fact - they'll probably assume it was his idea. which, it kind of is? the lines get blurry fast. and they'll probably assume you're uncomfortable with it, and will shed pitying glances your way - that is, if they care about you at all.)

don't get him wrong, though - he knows exactly why that kind of thing would be considered dirty. but come on, chick - there have been worse things people have called each other in a loving sense, with less of the whole, sensuality of it, y'know? he trusts you. why wouldn't he be able to experiment with you in the same way? but oh- if you meant it as a joke, he'll catch on, too. if anything, Wilford knows how people react, what they mean. he'd been around waaay too many people not to be able to catch onto hidden meanings by now, and if you're joking? he plays it up, too! the difference lies in the kinds of situations he uses it - if it's serious, he can bring it up in the most mundane situations, even going as far as to refer to himself as that during breakfast or something (making you spit out your coffee), but if you're joking it's usually in situations where it's meant as a joke, where he's trying to appear lax when threatening someone, or while he's relaxed and having a good time (probably at a party or something, knowing him). he really, he has to admit, likes the whole domineering, power couple vibe it can bring to any situation. even then, he'll say it with his usual mannerisms, so it's kind of hard to say, at least when you ask someone who doesn't know him fully, to know whether he's joking or not - but a little chuckle here and there will probably give him away. he can't help it, especially when he sees you biting your lip as to not laugh yourself. literal partners in crime, and the joke is on everyone else.

Illinois

what? you- uh, um- s-sure. yeah, okay. let's go with that.

does it feed his ego? yes. does it also make the whole thing awkward as hell? also yes. as in, as soon as you say it, he's choking on his words, turning to the side while he lets out a violent series of coughs, trying to get back to his senses. literally, you've shocked this man so badly he's dropped his entire character, his entire persona. congrats!

but why is that? because even while he's trying to grapple with the fact of- what did you just say? - he still can't deny it doesn't spark something in him. not specifically anything, well, naughty, or at least not fully, he thinks? it's moreso a compliment to him, albeit a really weird one, in his opinion. you think he has any characteristics to be caring, or you're confirming for him that he's just - that hot? oh holy hell. that is a stroke to his ego he never thought he'd experience. after a coughing fit, he'll probably go back to the topic at hand without mentioning it, but... he can't lie, he'll be thinking about it later. he won't exactly say anything to you, as in, you'll never really have the conversation of 'what was that?' unless you yourself push it (in which case he'll even try to play dumb, only remarking that it must've been something else that made him react like that). so, he'll just, kind of - wait for you to mention it again? at the very least he will never refer to himself as that. he'll maybe, maybe, once throw in a joke about it if he finds himself in a situation where he has to display those kinds of qualities (like taking care of a child, for example - where he'll offhandedly mention something like, 'Well, you did imply I had the skills for it.'), but only once. he may blush behind closed doors about it later, ruminating over what your own reaction to that was like.

as a joke? yeah, he- uh- totally caught onto that one. absolutely. didn't make him feel any kind of way or nothing, nope. or so he says as he tries, awkwardly, to laugh it off. (please, a part of him begs, don't make it into a joke. this man needs reassurance that he still gets you going, as much as he knows he's like, the most wanted man alive.) it doesn't really work, as the whole conversation just falls flat. he won't mention it to you again after.

The Host

is he reciting the entirety of a smut novel to you?

as it slips out, the whole room seems to shift in tone. the Host, well- he isn't usually one for jokes, and even if he is, it takes a well-placed ambience and a good introduction for it to occur, something just between you and him, hiding beneath the pages. but now? he's speechless. it's both an odd mixture of shock and helplessness - what the hell is he supposed to do with that? the Host isn't used to being teased - everything is usually so plainly clear between the two of you, that even when he's reading between the lines, you're perfectly, crystal clear. now he doesn't know what to do. now, he's just looking at you as if you're alien to him, before he does the only other thing he can, he knows best: he narrates.

he narrates every emotion coursing through him at that exact moment - the confusion, the anticipation for a resolution, the bafflement, the perplexity of it all - basically, he lays it out like a criminal case, as if he were a detective attempting to solve it. even as you're tugging on his arm all the while, trying to distract him ('Hey, it was just a joke, y'know! I didn't mean it, can you- stop it, please?'), he treats it just like that - a distraction. no, he has to get into your head - why would you say something like that? even accidentally, why is that your first thought? (it gets even worse when he, aloud, starts referencing all the erotica literature he'd seen - which is not much, he'll be fair - and cross-examining it with facts he knows about you, trying to make sense of it by tying them together.) if he can find the cause? great. moving on. he's figured it out, and he can be at peace now. if you need something like that from him, if he thinks it's something you'd want to try - sure, you can have a nice, civilized, diplomatic discussion about it. only then will he value your opinion and actually sit down to listen to you before jumping to conclusions - though, not before he's made his own assumptions first. if he can't? literally spirals. in the sense of, he's stuck in that loop until you give him a reason, which can be very embarrassing for you, or put him in a very split state if you don't exactly know the reason why you did it.

all in all, it can be a very good trick to have if you want him to literally stop whatever he's doing to try and figure it out, but be wary of the fact that he will be thinking out loud about it, unintentionally spilling secrets you'd only told him along the way. if that's out of the question, then try to not to let it happen, or try to distract him by any other means. at the end of the day, of course, if you're serious about trying it - of course he can, at the very least, have a conversation with you about it, weighing in your own opinion, as well as the pros and cons. you're adults, after all, why wouldn't you be able to talk it out? just don't expect him to stop talking about it as he's thinking - just, give him a minute.

Heist! Mark

surprisingly, the only deadpan, serious one.

as soon as you say it, he's halting whatever he's doing with a perplexed expression - and by that I mean, literally frozen. holding something in his hand, moving it from place to place? now it's literally being held in midair as he tries to process the information just alloted to him. you're- what- what did you say? is this a new joke you're pulling? or, like, a new trick you can use during your next heist? should he be concerned or are you pushing some new act on him he should try and be a part of?

again, he's one of the only ones whose personality literally switches off immediately. even if it was a joke, he's so confused that there's literally no room in his brain for anything else. he almost becomes parental - straightening up his back, laying a hand on your shoulder, swift but strict, eyes squinted, turning to you, 'Are you doing okay?' it's so out of character for him, it's you who's concerned, now. he gives off the exact vibe of 'We'll talk about this at home.', so much so that you actually think you'd made some sort of transgression here. unintentionally, he can build up a lot of anxiety in a person with this kind of response. but he doesn't mean it, honestly! it's literally beyond his control how shocked he is.

only when you catually do talk about it, sit down all serious and responsible, only when you explain yourself to him properly, and he really does force you a bit to spill the beans - can he really sit there and have an actual reaction... which is of course, him being smug as all hell. so, you think of him like that, do you? huh, of course you do., he remarks as he looks off to the side, smile crooked where it stretches across his face, trying to be the most charming version of himself he can (it's not obvious at all that you would think of him like that in general.) well, he guesses you can try it, if you're serious about it- and if you don't, if you want to just forget about the whole thing? oh, c'mon! he was getting into it! damn it. well, he guesses he can respect it. but- if you ever change your mind, you know where he is, don't you? (if you're joking, he doesn't care either way. he's way too busy being into it himself to register it as an actual joke. oops?)

Antisepticeye

one of the many things you should call him, actually. (or at least, that's what he thinks.)

now, this really depends on how far and how deeply under his control you are. if we're talking about you being somewhere near the beginning - that is, not really influenced by him whatsoever, maybe scared of him, if anything, then yeah, it's very weird that you would call him that? as in, it throws him off his game a bit, but not enough to actually rattle him. this would most likely occur as a type of fawn response to your own fear, and to him. (read: fawn response is a type of "response to a threat by becoming more appealing to the threat", according to Psychology Today) essentially, just you scrambling around trying not to be absolutely obliterated by this monster of a... well I was going to say man, but he isn't a man, not really? the earlier into the relationship this happens, the more put off he is about it - to the point he might even ignore it if this is maybe the second or third time you're meeting?

but if you're deeper into your... "relationship", so to say, he's fully accepting of it. even if you mean it as a joke - your entire existence is a joke to him, so it means very little in terms of whether he takes it seriously or not. but he will take it seriously, that you can trust. in terms of how he views himself compared to you, he might even be worse than the Actor, fully believing that you are beneath him in every and all forms, and that you are someone who is meant to be controlled. that you can't survive on your own, and the best chance you have at it is fully surrendering yourself to him. he'll stop for a second or two once you say it, halting just to process, before he another one of his famous smirks makes its way onto his face. oh, you want to play like that? sure, he can oblige. why not? if you're aware enough to call him that, accidentally or not, of your own volition - well, that just means he's not doing enough to 'put you under', so to speak - under himself, status-wise, that is. you're meant to be drooling at his feet, unable to even stand unless he decides you should, unless he's being kind enough to help you along. but even then... maybe all you're good for is crawling beneath him. it's a tough choice.

if you're fully under his control, now that's a different story. Anti wants to experiment with you - he has to be able to walk, talk, and know humans inside and out to adapt as quickly as possible, to capture better, faster. and as much as he hates stooping down to your level, even if it's only for pretend - he can admit it's extremely funny whenever you actually fall for his tricks. seriously, how stupid can you be? (you and every other human.) and while he can gather a lot of information just from being online, he needs you - something he loathes to admit - for the more... physical parts. and if he's already using you, giving you a purpose, well... why can't he have a little fun with it? you are his puppet, after all - you dance when he wants you to. so calling him something like that, or master, or calling out any other position where you demean your own existence - that's funny as all hell to him. even to the point where he'll make you do it just for the sake of it, just to drill it into whatever part of the brain you've got that's not under his control yet. oh, but soon, dollie. soon.

he is your god, is he not? it's only fair.

Simon the Convict

uh, what? what's that?

fully stumped. not in the way of, 'oh, what did you say? why did you say it? that's so dirty, eeeugh-' no, this man genuinely has no idea what you're talking about. as in, the only father he's ever known has been, well, Father! and do you really think, amongst all else, that kinks are something you can indulge in in Eden, let alone, the prisons at the C.O.I.? absolutely not. he's literally trying to survive. thinking about sex, at all, is something waaaay beyond his scope of thinking, as in, it's not even a part of his day to day unless he has a partner or is safe enough in all other areas (resources, food, water, etc.) to even have that need. the apocalypse does that to a man, y'know?

but there's some benefit in that, too. it depends on whether or not you tell him what it means, joke or not. you can either, a) lie to him (which would be funny, but if he found out, he'd very much be angry with you after. not angry enough to break up or anything, but you would be sleeping on the metaphorical or literal couch for the next week or so) or b) tell him the truth.

if you opt to lie to him, you could, technically get away with saying it more often. it could be a joke between you and the others, (referencing my own Simon universe in here as part of the compound, inspired by that of RandomWriter28) your coworkers most likely, as you keep calling him that as you would any other nickname. if this is something you did accidentally, and not as a joke, though, and you choose to lie to him - well, it depends whether he'd find out or not. he could ask someone about it, but I doubt he would. Simon strikes me more as a guy who, if you don't tell him outright what something means, just assumes it isn't important anyways. I mean, why would you lie to him? you're his partner! (sprinkle some salt on the wound, why dont'cha) the other possibility would be if someone else did the same or similar thing, or if it came up as a topic of conversation amongst his own coworkers. then, if he did find out, he'd probably just offhandedly mention it when you're alone, moreso in the style of 'I know what that word means now, just letting you know.' but I doubt he'd make a big deal out of it. he knows that it's sort of an intimate thing now, and he gets you'd be kind of embarrassed, so he leaves it be. that is, unless you decide you'd want to get deeper into it, leading to a more serious conversation.

that leads us to option b) telling him the truth. if you do admit it, whether you meant it as a joke or said it accidentally, he'd be confused, of course, asking you to elaborate. he'd listen to your explanation thoroughly - after all, this is enough to make you embarrassed to some degree, so it must hold at least some weight. if you said it as a joke, he'll most likely, again, let it go with a thoughtful 'Hm.' as he turns back to whatever he was doing before. if you decide you want to be more serious about it though, explaining it as something you'd want to try, he'd definetly at least listen to you and try it out once, at a later date. especially if this is something that's important to you. even then though - he'd mainly be doing it for you. again, he'd never really been the type to think about the intricacies of intercourse - in his brain, it's all you. you're hot, you're his partner. what else does he need to get him going? but if you genuinely try it and it well, sparks something in you... sure, you can try it again. and again. and again. as long as he can stare at your face as he makes you feel good. as long as you keep making that expression.

in general though, he's very lax about it. you don't want to talk about it? got it. you want to talk about it, try it? also got it. just don't lie to him. don't make him look stupid.

Damien

you think he's all shy and flushed, but he's just acting coy. he knows what you're on about.

as the Mayor, Damien needs to be super composed, serious, gentlemanly - but that doesn't mean he didn't do... things... when he was younger. doesn't mean he has no experience. of course, he knows what you're talking about, but he isn't really keen on admitting it. it could hurt his reputation, you know? yes, he knows that most of his friends are worse off than that in terms of how they view it, yes, he knows being more relaxed about his, well, sexuality could bring in more people, paint him as more approachable, and honest- but it's a risk he's not really willing to take.

if you call him it accidentally, especially in public or something, very quick to end the conversation and pull you to the side, chastizing you lightly. what was that about?? do you even know what you're saying? goodness, dear- just, don't do that again. and take a couple of minutes, cool off. walking back to the conversation without you, he'll shake his head in disappointment after he makes up some excuse in your stead to the people you were talking to or diverts the conversation entirely. if you did it when you were alone? completely red in the face, and will either go silent, too shy to speak, or change the subject completely to something else, as if he's never heard it. but, oh, being closed doors? man is shaking like a leaf.

with Damien, it's always the nice Mayor, the friendly Mayor, the one who's willing to listen to anyone. but with you? when he looks at you - god, it's like he's a highschooler all over again. just hearing those words coming out of your mouth... and he knows, he knows you're not all sunshine and rainbows yourself. in fact, you might be even more openly talkative about such subjects than he is, but, damn it- he really, really likes that. won't ever admit it, though, not to you, not to anyone. playing the innocent, insecure, knight in shining armour persona's so rooted in him that he can't help it, but even as he's partially disgusted with himself, he knows he's horrid underneath. not a bad person, not necessarily, but- worse than you in terms of how depraved he can be. worse than most people he knows, and regarding that? he's highly insecure. even if you joke about it with him, even if you just tease him, he'll deny it till the end of his days. it'll take a substantial amount of work, weeks to months of talking about it over and over again, asking him, pleading with him - that is, if you intend to do something serious with what you're asking. and when he agrees? you're not even sure who he was in the first place.

don't push him too hard. you might uncover things you never could've expected.

Murdock

what's that? oh- yeah, okay. mhm, sure, but- tell him something first: which knife do you think will do the job better, this one or that one?

Murdock loves you, he really does. that's something he can say with ease - you're his apprentice, after all, and he doesn't spill his secrets to just anyone. when you slip up like that, though - he can't help but dismiss you, if even lightly. most of the time you spend together is spent planning your next kill, or performing one, so even as you joke around with him- he can't really focus on you right now. not when there's a screaming victim in front of him. you get it, right? and pass him that gag, won't you?

now, that isn't to say he has no reaction whatsoever. the man just loves his job a bit too much! or well. 'job'. if you could call it that. but he thinks about it while he's attempting to gauge the woman's eyes out as cleanly as possible. how should he react to it, once he has no choice to do anything but look at you? if it was a joke, sure, he can joke with you. even give you a sarcastic or not laugh before he shifts your attention over to the scalpel you're handing him. but if it was a slip-up? he really doesn't know, he thinks as he cuts the body up, digging into the skin with a knife from his personal collection, making sure to preserve the fingers as he goes. in the end, he decides to focus on the victim more than anything, hoping it'll clear his mind enough to figure out what to say. (you can see it in the intensity behind his eyes. the gears turning, the calculations running. in the sweat dripping across his brow, hyperfocused on the body.)

when he's wiping down his tools after, your gaze barely lingering on him for more than two seconds, he realizes the answer is actually quite simple. you pushed it, didn't you? or, well- you had it on your mind. and who is he not to indulge you? after all, you'd been so attentive afterwards, been such good help recently. all good students deserve a reward from time to time, no? so he'll slink over to you, trapping you in place with your chin locked in between his fingers as he rises it for your eyes to meet yours. come again? would you like to repeat what you said before? (god, especially as the scent of blood still lingers in the air, splashed across your face in the same streak from where it spurted out of that main artery. you were so precise, and so, so filthy. he adores you, you know?) if you want something serious, if you want something from that - do tell him. be good, c'mon. he'll make all your dreams come true, just tell him what he wants to hear.

(and if you're attempting to gloss over it? not a chance. not with him. maybe he won't address it right then, right there - but eventually, he will. eventually, all of your consequences catch up to you, and you'll have to be clear with him.)

Jim

wait- hold on there- just, wait a second-

immediately pulling out his microphone. what did you expect? if you're lucky, you'll get a few seconds, closer to a minute, before you're blasted with questions. is this a new trend among people of your generation? is this something that's popular online? (is this something you've told anyone else before?) really, it's almost overbearing, what with the lights that are pointed in your direction and all. you're usually used to being the one behind the camera for him (or, them?) so to say this kind of reaction is strange is beyond you. you're shy, twiddling your fingers, tugging at your collar - but Jim? having the time of his life. he's discovering new things about his partner! he's seeing them in a whole new light, and- most important of all - he has a new topic to divulge in. hold on, he'll come back to you once he does more research, just- just hold on!

if you tell him it's all a joke, you can risk getting him in hot water. with who, you ask? uhhhh, himself? the other Jims? but he gets all sopping wet, all droopy and sad with a little 'oh.' at the end. he was really excited to interview you! you, like, never get to be in front of the camera! even if this was a bit niche - that makes it all the more interesting! and he gets to talk more about his partner! oh, and now it's all ruined. you can easily make him feel better (if you choose to) by redirecting the subject or returning to it. sure, you guess, if it makes him feel better, you can talk about it. or something else equally as interesting to him - like, your favorite food, or the newest things you found online! really, anything about you is considered valuable news. you're like, the most interesting person in the world to him! how could such talent be wasted behind the camera?! (not that you're not a good cameraperson, no, he's not saying that. your footage is much better than when he's behind it, actually.)

if it was a slip-up? don't worry, he can tell you're into it. in fact, let him tell you all the fun facts about it! let's see, where should he start... (overall, could not care less about how 'dirty' or whatever it is. everything and anything regarding information about you, to him, as previously stated, is interesting enough to have lenghty conversations about - preferably in an interview, unless you're way too shy. if you want something serious with him about it, sure, he can try! just uh, let him research it first. and, and, a proper interview beforehand? please?)

Date! Mark

I mean, as long as you're into it, so is he.

this man is so eager to please you he'd literally agree to anything you say. well, as long as you're nice about it. you're joking about it? he's laughing, even if it is a bit forceful, because, like - that's a bit intimate, but okay! he guesses! whatever floats your boat! you're like, super pretty when you're laughing, anyways, so- he's not complaining, even if he doesn't fully understand it.

if it's a slip-up? already there to tell you that hey, it's fine, it's alright, that's like, the most normal thing he's heard regarding kinks, (he's lying, at least on the whole front of 'what he's heard'. based on his personality, you doubt he's talking to people about these sorts of things. you can tell he's lying. besides, if he's not- what else has he heard that's weirder than that?? you're beginning to question his tastes, seriously.) and he's completely understanding of it. people like what they like, right? and like, he's kind of flattered you think of him in that way? you think he's strong, and handsome, and like, hot? that's hot. no, um, he means- that's uh- that's really attractive! yeah! that's- oh god, he's tugging at his collar. um, he's really glad you like him, that's all he means.

furiously researches it when he's alone, but he won't really admit it? as in, he's not going to come bragging to you about how he knows everything about it now, but he'll nudge you this way and that about it. you know what you said the other day, even if you didn't mean to? oh, well- uh- if you wanted to talk about it more seriously, if you wanted to, like- think about it more seriously, maybe even, (he's nervous as all hell, sweating through the shirt underneath his jacket) try it with him? he's down. or whatever. to, um, trying it. if you are. if not, that's okay too! he'll just forget about it. yeap! all done! poof, gone! (he's not forgetting about it anytime soon.)

Dave Torres

uh, thanks?

this man is so sleep deprived he thinks he's hallucinating you saying it, so- joke or not, it makes little to no difference. I mean, if you really wanna joke with him about it, you'll have to repeat it to him several times until he catches on, but even then the joke loses its funny effect after you'd said it so many times, so at most what you'll get is an 'oh.' and a tint to his cheeks. he's flattered, really, but uh, you really think so? you really, um, put him in that category? wow. he doesn't know what to say. he's not used to people relying on him in that way, or being dominant, anyhow - he really likes taking care of people, instead, but the implication still stands. as much as he is embarrassed a bit, he's also glad, in a weird way. at least you're still attracted to him, even if he's a bit of a mess.

if it's a slip-up and you don't repeat it back to him? you have a 50-50 shot he'll just ignore it and think his brain's acting up again. surely, you didn't say that, that'd be kind of silly., he mutters as he convinces himself it's not worth pushing you around about it, scratching at the back of his neck awkwardly. but the other 50 percent is him bugging you about it. what did you say? seriously, c'mon. he'll only relent if he sees you're really adamant about keeping it secret, so he'll ask again later. but he is really curious about it, and you know that when Dave's curious about something concerning the people that he loves, he doesn't really give up on it - no matter how small it is. you can rely on him, and be weird with him, y'know. can't be worse than what he's told you. if you do say it, reiterating how weird it may or may not sound to him, he's immediately reassuring you. no, seriously, it's okay. he's not weirded out at all. it's just, a bit surprising - but a good kind of surprise, trust him! at least, he doesn't think any less of you for it. he's got his own weirdness to him, again, so you're more than fine.

(if you mention wanting to be serious about trying it or something? he's a bit insecure, sure, but overall, he'd be down. just, uh, if he's not doing a good job - you'll tell him, right? and uh, if he can't, perform that well, you can- you're going to tell him? he's allowed to stop if he doesn't, think it's his thing? yeah? okay, whew. not that he probably would, even if he thinks he's doing an awful job. as long as he sees you're into it, that'll probably encourage him enough to go on. if he's really uncomfortable, he'll talk to you later about it, after you'd fully tried it out.)

The Drowned Man! Mark

okay... and?

regardless of whether you're joking or not - nothing is a joke to him. nothing, especially in the presence of ghouls, demons, ghosts - hey, are you recording? straighten up!

if it was meant to be a joke, during recording or not, he'll chastize you about being unprofessional. ghost hunting is a serious profession, don't you know that? god, makes sense why your other show failed. (fully ignoring the fact his did too.) if you're outside of the property that's being haunted, not recording, he won't chastize you for joking, per se... but he will fully take it in stride and treat it as a normal thing. should he start calling you the same? you think that's funny? I mean, it kind of is. but you know how serious he is! don't forget that, okay?

if it's a slip-up, he's more keen on it, dragging it further along. no, repeat that. what did you say? c'mon, speak up. you're so eager to talk every time you're behind that camera of yours, you might as well. what, did you think it was a compliment? or did a spirit talk through you? no, no, tell him. even as you squirm under his attention, dismiss him, he'll press it further with a completely straight face. treats it like a fact more than like a secret, or something intimate. and if you do tell him, which you'll have to eventually to try and get him off your back- huh, that's it? oh. okay. and completely turns to the side, telling you to grab your camera before you head out. it seems like he doesn't care, especially when you start believing he intends to use it as blackmail, sharing it around with the same tone with which you regard the weather, but if you genuinely ask it of him as your partner, ask him to try it?

> so... you were out. uh, what now, exactly?

> you couldn't exactly go back for Heist - well, you hadn't really known where he'd gone off to, anyways. there was something vague about that wall he got punched through... but, eh, you think - he'll come back to you. eventually. call you on the phone, all suspicious-like, with a new plot to hatch, like he did before. or something. you really hope he's doing okay, and that he didn't break his spine, or skull, or- whatever else he's got to break

> but that's not what's important right now! right? even as you stood outside the gates, twiddling that same key around your fingers, slowly making your way into town on foot, checking over your shoulder - it felt off. like you forgot something important. or more like, you left something important behind

> thankfully you still had that apartment, and your landlord hadn't gone up and broken your lease yet. does that guy watch the news at all? surely, your faces, yours and Heist's, must've popped up somewhere on there - Happy Trails is just on the outskirts of the city, after all. regardless, you're grateful for his ignorance. guy didn't even ask where you'd been when you walked in through the door, just banged on it in his usual fashion, with threats of eviction and so on and so forth. you knew it was an empty threat, as it always was, considering the place you'd been at was a dump anyways. nobody really wanted to move in here - you'd be better off being roomates with rats than people. you made it work, though - as much as a person left with little to no other choice could make it work

> but oh, yeah - that's why you- did the... heist. in the first place. shit. everything's coming back to you now, mentally tied to your landlord's words, still hanging in the air like the stale, wet scent of smog. or was your window just left open again? ah, who knows. all you know now for sure is that the criminal life was never going to work out for you - either of you. you'd have to tell Heist so when he inevitably called you again. you're going back to being a goody two shoes, cold turkey (as much as you sat there, student loans looming over your head like the open mouth of a shark, eager to eat you up like a midafternoon snack. what were you going to do?). but the rent, and the debts, and the- well. you'll make it. somehow. you just have to believe that. you just have to put the work in. and everything will come around. right? right?

> you spend the next few weeks - two, to be precise - trying to gather up your shit as much as possible. rifling through old belongings, selling bits and bobs online to try to scrape up enough rent money for the time being, until you pull yourself together, all the while avoiding the force like the plague. (you'd have to get a new identity. either that or get your name squeaky clean again.) thankfully, you'd been fresh in prison up to your escape, so all that stuff about getting your exact credentials, your address, your previous places of employment - was all set aside as 'we'll do it tomorrow.'. well, they surely had faith that you wouldn't escape, and, in Yancy's words, who would? wait- Yancy.

> that's right. you need to go visit Yancy. you promised, didn't you? and well, as much as you are up to your neck in trouble right now, you fully meant it. he helped you escape that place, and there's no doubt about the fact he's probably getting drilled into right now by the officers tasked with bringing you back. the whole K-9 unit and all (or so you heard on the news). and unlike Heist, he can't really... go, anywhere. except...

> during one of your searches of your apartment, you find the thing that you were searching for least, but might've ended up being your saving grace - that Juris Doctor degree. the one your friends urged you to finish, before your life went to shit, before student loans ate up all your savings and got you into so much debt you could barely afford to buy clothes to go to the one or two interviews you got, all while when you did actually show up, it was obvious they'd already made up their mind, settling on someone before you. (was it your grades? was it your lack of experience? was it the way you talked, dressed, existed? you don't know. you just know you tried your best, and that still didn't manage to work.) the economy truly is the trap we all sink into, don't we? or at least you did. just one more poor university student buried under colossal amounts of debt. if you got use out of this now, though... well, it doesn't hurt to try...

> it takes weeks, a month almost (requiring you to miss that first visitation appointment. sorry, Yance, you curse at yourself. I'll visit next time.) for the police to lose track of you. getting jobs off the record helps (even if they themselves are on the rarer side, and require you to, well, not exactly break the law, but bend it a bit at least), and then getting a fake ID, alongside minor cosmetic changes, with that money helps. helps them lose your scent. all that's really left to do - the hardest part - is getting back into the industry. (and faking your degree. but is it really faking, if you did it legitimately before? you just changed your name is all. and... most of your identity. still, it's hard enough to find someone who can fake a Rutgers University stamp.) it's been a couple years since you'd practiced law last, and in the end - it's kind of ironic it screwed you over so badly you went (literally) against everything you'd been taught. you hardly blame yourself. it's a tough, dog-eat-dog world you live in, and if you're to do anything, you're going to bite down hard. it's what your parents always taught you, at least (Heist, too. that man's been up and down the block in the weirdest of companies since you'd met him, but at the end of the day, he was still a good man. that's what you kept telling yourself, at least, as you let him drag you into one seedy situation after another and now- well. look where you're at now.)

> but if anything's going in your favor - your escape seems to have set in motion others. not from Happy Trails, not mostly at least (seems others besides Yancy knew a few too many nooks and crannies, too.) but it does seem to have set in motion... something. either that or it's so overcrowded in prisons nowadays that they just want to get out - not necessarily something particularly tied to your own escape. whatever. not your problem. (that is, unless the prisoner in question is someone you still haven't managed to visit. you at least have to catch him before he goes off somewhere - even if you're about 98% sure he would never leave the prison regardless.) if anything, jobs pertaining to law and court proceedings of prisoners seemed to have reached an uptick in popularity, and you get the job more easily than you'd hoped. man, where was this before you got your metaphorical criminal pants on? (and literal ones.)

> and so, ironically, you find yourself going back to Happy Trails - this time not as a prisoner, but as a lawyer on duty, as mandated by the state, to jump in should the prisoners request a lawyer. (at least, you think as you shrug on the suit you managed to find at the thrift store for dirt cheap, they're accommodating like that. not a lot of prisons would be that keen on helping out their prisoners. maybe that whole 'family' shtick actually holds some influence in there.) well, not only Happy Trails - after all, there are a couple more prisons to juggle in your day to day (your junk of a car is wheezing at the bare thought of having to drive around all the time) - but something tells you that's not that important. that there's something special about Happy Trails. maybe it's just your nerves getting the better of you. probably.

> your entire body is buzzing with something indescipherable the first time you close your car door, shifting from foot to foot, gazing up at the entrance. nerves? worry they're going to recognize you? guilt? who knows. at the end of the day, this is just a way for you to make a living, and it's either this or the streets. or like, McDonalds - if they'd even hire you again after that last time. meeting the warden's worse. your heart literally leaps up to your throat, banging against your common sense as he lays a hand across your shoulder, before taking a good look at your face. thankfully, seeing nothing recognisable (a part of your expected it - how many times had he really seen you? even tried to remember your face? twice, maybe? you just hoped his memory wasn't better than you thought it was.), he just lets you go with a bright smile, shaking your hand to signify your new relationship to the prison as its go-to lawyer to call. wheeeew. talk about stressful!

> a couple of third Sundays go by in total since your escape, before you're actually able to visit Yancy - and that makes you as guilty as anything. surely, he'd understand. surely, he would be okay with it, if you just told him what you had to go through to be there? surely, surely- surely? oh goodness, you don't know anything anymore. when you sit in the waiting room after that bumpy bus ride (noting that not many prisoners' loved ones came, making the regret sit even heavier in your gut than before), all you can do is vibrate in place from all the worrying you're unconsciously doing, wringing your hands together, thinking about what he's going to say, how he's going to act, what his reaction will be - because, in the end, how well do you really know the guy? that's right, you don't! like, at all! so why are you so nervous? why are you so eager? why is the only thought in the back of your mind, the one driving you forward - the one about seeing him again? (what are you, a highschooler with a - don't even finish that. you're just grateful, is all. that's it. just gratefulness, just humility, just- just- you're running out of excuses.)

> when you finally, finally come face to face, you're baffled by the fact he only seems happy to see you. his smiling face makes something flutter on the inside- wait, no, stop that - as he immediately divulges into what's been going on since you left. (although he doesn't really say that - cousin school is a way more appropriate cover up, but you get the idea.) it seems good, or as good as it can be (as much as he tells you otherwise, that it's great, fantastic, never been better - though you still notice the slight gulp he produces and the way his gaze shifts to the side. maybe you're imagining things.) for him in there, and you're happy about that at least. at least, your own presence didn't diminish the glow of the prison he's usually boasting on and on about, and you're happy he's happy. (though, you catch yourself, how could your presence be of any significance? you'd only been there a short while, and even then - hell, you beat the guy up! not exactly a good first impression, not exactly daisies-and-rainbows of a first meeting.)

> there's something else there, though. as he goes on and on (you letting him talk as much as he wants, I mean - it is you who came to visit him, not the other way around - specifics about him not being able to visit you be damned.), his left hand flying about randomly as he talks in that exaggerated fashion you're growing to like more and more, you can't help but feel like your life can be put on hold, maybe just for a second. it's the exact break you needed, between the heavy burdens of getting yourself back on track, between worrying about where Heist is, seeing as he hadn't called you yet, between how you're going to go forward from here and what your plans are for the future, between running from the police, between the surgeries and making your new identity legitimate. you were so, so worried - and what for, you think now? of course he'd just be happy to see you. it's Yancy. (though even that goes against the statement previously made, about not knowing him. getting to know him, being in that stage, maybe that's enough. and hell if you're the kind of person to think badly about a criminal. that'd only make you a hypocrite.)

> when you lay your hand across the glass, he reiterates in kind, but only off-handedly. doesn't matter. it doesn't matter that it may be less impactful for him than for you, but at the end of the day - he did agree to see you. he did agree to sit there, to give you a chance. maybe that's all you need, really. (highschooler behaviour, indeed.) his hair, his clothes are worse off than before - the commissary must not be that diverse in options, and seeing as they'd taken some cuts in prison management state-wide recently... you make a mental note to send him some stuff, as soon as you get your first paycheck. but, hey, at least his scars have healed up nicely! (would hate to ruin that pretty face, even if the imprints of the bruises across it came from your own fists specifically. actually, maybe that's worse.)

> he tells you about parole. and your heart screeches, backpedalling in your chest when he mentions, with a slight stretch of his shoulders and laying back in his chair as if to seem nonchalant (though you can see the stiffness in his limbs from a mile away), that he'd applied, inspired by what you'd told him. you're not exactly sure what you did - seeing as it has been a little less than two months since you'd seen each other - but you're ecstatic regardless! immediately, you're tuning into the conversation more actively, telling him all about your relationship with the prison and how you can help him, should he want it. sure, parole hearings are usually self-representative in terms of the prisoners, but a lawyer sure helps, especially with a case... as complex as his. plus, how long had he been in prison now? since he was nineteen? that case must be buried in the dust, and it'd take a great deal of unearthing to get it off the ground, so to speak - not that you presume Yancy's much interested in the law proceedings of it, but hey, a man has a lot of time in prison. maybe he's read up on it! (he hasn't, and so he tells you when you mention the possibility. why would he ever want to? he'd only ever wanted to stay in prison!) your meeting is cut short, then - the visitation is limited after all, and as much as you want to stay, you can't. but you promise to keep visiting - and this time, that promise is something you hold as a standard, rather than an option

> the next six months are a blur - when you're not preparing other cases, helping other prisoners, or visiting him - you're giving your all to dig up as much information as you can about his case, and what new pieces of information you find get bleaker and bleaker each time. not necessarily about the case itself - thankfully, his psychological record is well-documented, and you can count on pulling it up during the hearing to attest to his agression towards his parents, and his parents alone, proving he's not a threat to general society - but bleak in terms of how he's doing. sure, you'd grown up semi-decently, not exactly having a fairytale of a childhood, no matter what your situation is like now, but murdering your parents? getting sent to prison at such a young age? and according to his files - dealing with diagnosed depression and several other psychological issues? you can't imagine what that's like. you don't even want to try. you just want to erase it for him, if you can - and parole is a part of that, you assure yourself. another chance to make things right for him

> during your visits, you learn more things about him, whether through simple conversation or through the letters he sends you in the weeks leading up to your visits (he writes really well, for someone who hasn't been given a chance to educate himself in the art of it - you should encourage getting him some creative writing lessons when he's out. if he gets out.). things like his favorite color, the new plays he's been writing on the side, what he wants to do when he gets out - that one's mostly for his record, seeing as it's something he'll need to mention at the hearing, but also, just because you want to. there's something there, that sparked when you first met - he's so unique, so one of a kind, that you don't think you've ever met someone like him before. call it your proclivity for morbid curiosity, but the way he views the world is more than fascinating. you almost feel like a scientist, poking at the glass of his hamster cage, documenting all of his behaviours (in a loving way, you assure him. very loving. you wouldn't experiment on him.). you've always thought you were kind of weird yourself, so to get some sort of assurance, even in the way of, 'oh, there's someone weirder than you' or 'there's someone who's equally as weird as you, in a different niche, a different font', makes you feel like you two kind of belong together. in a weird way. weirdly.

> the parole hearing goes well, for the most part - you'd been coaching him through it for a good while, and he lets you mostly talk, as much as he isn't used to doing so. the parole board seems iffy about letting him loose - and the warden isn't as much help as you thought he'd be, seeing as he did, in his own words, regard Yancy as a son more than a prisoner. you feel bad about it, but you're not surprised by the fact those seem to have been only empty promises. there was some worry there too - you'd have to go through his case in depth in order to get him any sort of chance at getting out, and well, they don't even usually hand out parole for life sentences. call it a strike of luck, beginner's or otherwise (since it'd been a while since you'd represented someone), but you somehow manage, through your long-winded speeches and assurances, to turn the eyerolls of the board into thoughtful glances - and then into half approving, uncertain nods. you keep an eye on Yancy, who, through the duration of the hearing, the more you talk, seems to sink into his seat further than before every time you glance at him. the weight of guilt, or of the crime, or of the past, all at once, both helps and doesn't. you almost want to stop, seeing how badly he seems to be doing - but once you see the faces of the board, all his demeanour does is convince them to let him go more, apparently. remorse seems to open more doors than any kind of good behaviour in this place, you guess. so you suck it up. for now. it'll be better - he'll get better - when he's out. you know it

> when his parole does get approved (and though you knew it would be more of a 'when' rather than an 'if' - especially as you'd gotten to know him more over the past, it's still so much of a surprise to him that he can barely hug you back when you jump into his arms, almost dropping the phone you got off the board with on the floor), it's a slow transition - but things seem to have be getting better for both of you, slowly. winning that case for him seems to have made you even more popular of a choice between all the lawyers defending prisoners, so at least for the time being, you don't need to worry about work - and for him, it was the start of something new, though a slow transition nonetheless

> it's decided - rather quickly, and mostly insisted on by you - that he'd be moving in with you for the time being, at least until the parole review period ends, so at least four months. you're fine with it, really - Yancy's been so nice, so accepting of you when you'd come into the prison, that it was only a matter of time before you paid off that debt and helped him out. especially since he'd been kind of... frozen, since parole was approved for him. you don't blame him. having all your crimes researched and brought up again and again, crimes that were, in his case, of an extremely emotional nature, leaving the life you'd had since you were young behind, going outside into an unfamiliar world... it's a lot. even more so when you had to sit him down to discuss the options of employment and housing, giving him the choice of going to a transitional house instead of moving in with you, but also needing to get a job as soon as possible, not even letting him breathe for a second? to say that's stressful is an understatement

> he gets a nice, quiet job as a supermarket clerk - just for right now. while the parole officers and supervisor do accept change in position job-wise, the stability of said job is the most important thing right now, and seeing as he doesn't have much experience... it's the first thing you could think of. it's a steady uphill battle - reintegrating back into society - but strangely, as he admits to you one night when he gets home after a particularly rough shift, he's happy with it, and more importantly, it reminds him of Happy Trails, in a strange way. it's a community too- every part of his life is now in a community, and he doesn't need to really bind himself to suspicious people as his only source of familial comfort

> the first few days are awkward, at best. he's still getting used to work, while you're busy with your own, new cases - and that hearing had been a struggle in in of itself. he almost doesn't seem like himself, though he desperately tries to be, keeping up that upbeat, diplomatic yet slightly dangerous energy he's known for as much as he can. you can still see through the cracks, though - the way his shoulders visibly deflate when he thinks you're not looking, the slight insecurity in his hands when he reaches for something, the way he'd been so physical with his affection in Happy Trails, but is now more reserved than ever. it's fine, you assure yourself, dismissing it in your head when you look back after him, closing the door behind him as he heads to work. it's fine. it'll get better. it has to

> his parole supervisor, Susie, is an unexpected delight. he's awkward around her - her being the strict, older kind of officer with plenty of experience around unruly convicts - really, you both are, for different reasons. (you, hoping she doesn't recognise you, though you don't recognise her, and him because he's under her supervision) but as you chat with her during check-ins, during alcohol and drug tests (despite the fact he hadn't been known to and isn't accused of participating in using either), she just seems like a tired officer who's happy to actually be taking care of someone who seems to be complying with what she's asking for for once. you learn she lives not far from you, and you think you went to school with her son once? the days before university sit a bit blurry in your mind, still. so much has happened since then. but when she finds out? she's much warmer to both of you, even going as far as insisting on sticking by him whenever he needs to go back to fill out some paperwork, or get a more thorough check-in, even vouching for his flawless cooperation. (that you make sure he does do - jokingly, but not really, reminding him not to forget to do certain things, like coming home before dark, as per his curfew)

> speaking of going back to Happy Trails, he still does visit occassionally - after all, those guys are the closest thing to family he has, and they really do rejoice whenever he comes in. you go with him, sometimes, leaning against the side of the visitation room as they pile in to talk to him, smiling to yourself. it's one of the rare times he actually does smile like he used to, when there was no stress, not so many eyes on him, where he can just be himself. at this point, he's only ever like that, vaguely, at home with you- plus, the inmates have begun recognising you, too. after all, you're helping some of them get out, those following in Yancy's footsteps, but for some, you're just someone who Yancy has taken a liking to (platonically or romantically, you're not really sure how they see it) and that's good enough for them! anything goes as long as their boy is happy and thriving! (ocassionally, he'll come out of the conversation - you and Susie chatting by the door, and leaving him be to have his own private time with some of the inmates - all flushed, slightly sweaty and clammy. when you look back, all you have is the inmates in question giving you a thumbs up or an approving nod. what's that about, you wonder?)

> most of the time, you're more similar to roomates, maybe good friends, (and they were roomates-) than anything else - being in a relationship with him, as handsome as he is, as kind as he is, as much of a positive influence on your life as he is, is too far from your mind at the minute. only when you can tread somewhat safe ground, what with the rent, the apartment, your job - when you can safely provide for both of you and have a longterm plan in place, can you really relax. and yes, you do mean both of you - you know Yancy's job's not really what he's after, anyhow, so you're not exactly going to force him to get the most money out of it that he can - plus, being a lawyer can be lucrative, provided you're treading in deep enough waters. and you certainly are, with the case solved and a bunch of others on the way. besides, you did promise him some creative writing classes if he wants to take them, did you not?

> it starts off slow, almost imperceptibly so. had you known, had you bothered to really notice, you'd see how he flushes around you, how he jumps in to help you, how he laughs a bit too long at your jokes. he comes home late after his shifts, and still offers to cook. how he offers to beat up that government official you'd been arguing with passive agressively, sending email after email for the past week, even when you remind him he's on parole and needs to be careful (he says he'd still do it, but oh, if you insist). really, he doesn't do that stuff for just anyone - especially making that one chilli recipe he doesn't even share with his ex-fellow inmates. but oh, if only you'd noticed. if only you'd ever seen him as anything more than just a friend, a buddy, a pal - but how could you? he was all buddy-buddy even with people he liked, so you had little to no chance of noticing unless you paid really close attention

> after two months or so of being by your side - cooking, cleaning up, making sure you drank enough water, checking up on you, getting his job all checked out until the work turned more into a habit than a chore, and getting settled in with the local community - he could tell his attempts were getting... well. more than vague. you go out, sure. you'd tug on his arm, asking him to go visit that new coffee shop that popped up around the corner with you, or he'd lean against the table where you were working to ask if you wanted to go on a street market shopping run with him the next morning, but the conotations of it all just... weren't there? as in, you were either oblivious enough to not catch on or he was too friendly with his approach. either way, he was getting fed up, only a little. okay, maybe a lot.

> so, he took a day off. one day, and when Susie called to check in why he had, he'd attempted to lie only once before he cracked fully, admitting the entire thing. 'young love', she said before letting him off the hook. that night, when you'd gotten off of work pretty darned late with a highly frustrated client (from one of the other cases you'd been taking up, a pretty grisly one at that) you'd had to calm down prior to coming home, he had it all set up, the whole shebang - dinner for two, and a well-decorated, pretty dinner at that. he'd really gone all out - fairy lights, candles, even bought a nice, mellow CD of that one cozy artist you liked! and him at the center of it, half falling asleep on the table where he'd been waiting for you to come home

> that night, he admitted everything, gripping your hands so tightly you could feel the sweat slipping in between his palms pressed to your knuckles (gross, but he was being passionate, so for the moment, you didn't complain), half stuttering through his words about how he'd never really liked someone like you before, how he'd never really liked anyone like this before, how he knows it's a bit weird, and he swears it's not just 'cause you got him out of jail, and, and- you really have to calm him down a bit before he can tell you the whole thing coherently. one date. that's all he asks for. one. and, well...

> one date turns into two. two dates turns into three. you find you actually start noticing his effort, his affection - and then you figure out that, wait, have I been crushing on him this entire time?! (obviously.) then he's your boyfriend, then you're catching yourselves looking for a bigger apartment, then you're looking at cars together, then he's thinking about taking dance classes - really, your entire life is completely turned upside down in a matter of half a year to a year. you don't know where the impulse came from, really - all this... freedom. usually, you'd be more prone to halting, to taking it slow, but with Yancy... everything just seems to fall into place way too easily. you're walking, and he's matching your steps perfectly. you're providing, and he's doing everything in his power to make sure you feel supported and seen. it almost, ironically, feels criminal - like something that wasn't meant to happen, like two people that found each other despite being in separate struggles, combining their pits of despair into one that resembled something like fate. or something like that. words were more Yancy's thing.

> then, a year after getting together - now him no longer occupying your couch, but instead waking up next to you, wearing cozy sweaters you'd thrifted for him instead of those prison sets, with a smile on his face, that was, most importantly, free of bruises - you sit there and wonder if this could be forever. if this is truly where you belonged - not in a dark, dingy apartment crying over your debt, not in a bush with Heist mapping out how to steal the artefact he was after, but here. safe, and home, and with Yancy by your side. maybe your life really is a life worth living like this. even if it is one with a convicted felon on parole - not something you really imagined for yourself, but you're also a convict on the run, so you can't really complain

> so when you contact Susie, asking for permission from the board to get married, all you can hear from the other end is frantic gushing of an older lady about how you'll be 'so cute' and that she can't 'wait to see that ring on your finger'. you get the thumbs up almost immediately. it's kind of frowned upon by the government - marrying a felon, at least during parole - but you're pretty much sure you can't even bother to give a damn. if the board says it's fine, then it is - no takebacksies. and as you sit there and ponder about which ring he'd actually like (not to mention you hadn't really thought about whether he'd like to get married or not, but Heist did always encourage you to, 'shoot your shot' with a lot of things so, here you are), you remember that. the key. the artefact. and suddenly, it seems perfect. what's a ring? you can get him a ring, sure, if he wants one - but as you turn the key in your hands, in the same manner as you did when you were exiting the prison, you think that's really where it all started. and Yancy wasn't someone for fancy things, anyways. he was more of the sentimental kind, you're sure he'd appreciate this much more

> it's meant to be more. it's meant to be perfect. but you- damn you and your inability to wait, to prepare (maybe that's the one thing you actually did learn from the heist - your impatience. or foolishness. or bravery. really, it's a package deal), you pull it out way too early. it's clumsy, and you're stuttering, and your palms are lined with more sweat than if you'd doused them in water - but as you quiver in your spot, looking at him one moment and then looking away the next in your shared bathroom, you can't help but to notice - this man already knows. it's obvious, really, but the way he's been smiling like he just won the lottery as soon as you started twiddling with that damn key in front of him, half-rusted from disuse. it really makes his answer to your question all the more apparent, and makes you all the more nervous. you can barely finish your sentence before he's fully lifting you by your hips with a sound of alarm from you and twirling you around to kiss you. it might be the happiest day of his life by the looks of it

> call it a stroke of genius, a stroke of luck, a stroke of absolutely rushed insanity - but as you're standing there, reciting your vows in a small, makeshift ceremony with Susie in the front, your friends in the back and most of the inmates from Happy Trails making up the witnesses to your wedding, you think to yourself - you may be foolish, or impatient, or clumsy, but at least you found someone who is equally as eager for you to be that, to take action, to be instead of just to plan ahead while worrying in the background. not that you'd have to be alone in that anymore. not ever again, if anyone were to ask you (or Yancy, for that matter)

> being married seems easier than dating, honestly. like you'd always meant to be together, blending into each other seamlessly. whenever you glance at the key hanging around his neck, you get all giddy, and whenever he looks at the vintage ring he got you from his new, big boy job at the theatre with his first paycheck, he can't help but kiss you, again and again and again. if anyone's blessed to be married to you, it's him - if anyone's more appreciative of the fact he wants to be with you forever, it's you

> there's little habits that emerge between the two of you, even as you're dating - like shaving, for example. being blessed with superior hair genes as he has been, Yancy has to shave pretty often, something he makes into sort of a routine. hey, a guy has to take care of himself for his partner, what can he say? but when you start dating, it's less about the actual shaving part and more about you spending time with him, and looking cute to boot. as soon his stubble starts to show, he's making his way into the kitchen, sinking into you from behind and asking for your help. of course you say yes. why wouldn't you? and when he inevitably drags you to the bathroom, you're lifted up and perched on the sink, hands steady on either side of you after he hands you the razor and brush, the foamy cream already prepped for you to start. he'd gotten bolder, the more you'd been together. at first, he was nervous, all shy, 'Maybe, youse could-' and all that nonsense. now, especially since you'd gotten married, he just drags you wherever he wants you and smirks, no words needed. you'd been here before, dollface. you know what to do.

> buying each other clothes! moreso you than him. he doesn't know what the latest fashion is, never really needed to know - he truly is the kind of guy to just buy five pairs of the exact same jeans and five white shirts and call it a day. after all, he's used to it from prison. but you can't have that, can you? at first, you just slip it into his wardrobe - suddenly, there's a deep burgundy button up with short sleeves and a distinct pattern. then, a new, freshly tailored suit. then, a new pair of pressed pants - the list goes on, really. at some point, he can't find his old shirts anymore, and then he has to come to you with a, 'Can youse tell me when youse's gon' buy me clothes? I'm gettin' all my stuff lost in 'ere.' oh, and then? thrifting together! looking online for clothes together! (and he actually starts developing a style. whaaat??) your favorite thing is buying him a new cute sweater for the holidays or just surprising him with stuff he says he needs anyways, like a new belt or socks. especially fun ones, with funny patterns, or something that hints to inside jokes. (that'll earn you a kiss or two, at least.) (oh, and he does not mind being overly cute whatsoever. yeah, he'll usually stick to his shirts, they're the easiest - but if you buy him like, a cute pink sweater with cuddly cat prints all over it? easily dying over it. it's so cute!! he loves it. will wear it around the house all the time.)

> he's so househusband coded. he dislikes admitting it - being someone who wants to be 'as Brooklyn as possible', whatever that means - which doesn't necessarily mean he'll stop cooking or anything. no, in fact, he'll just portray cooking as the most macho thing in the world. his knife skills could put world class chefs to shame. he'll even push you aside, hurrying you away from the counters, saying things like 'I got it, I got it, youse got more important things to do, like, uhhhh, lawyer- stuff. And things. Right, sugar?' the most you can do is sit there on your laptop, finishing up your work while he cooks. (his pierogi and sausage are to. die. for.) even when he isn't cooking, he takes immediately to anything related to household management. it's kind of like prison, in a way - everything needs to be in order, everything in line. he's used to that. prefers it, actually. it calms him

> he sings, or hums, while he does things. he's got such a melodic voice, he has to, really- he'd deprive the world of all its joy if he didn't. it's his own compositions, most of the time - the songs he used to sing to you when you visited him with the inmates - but there's also some newer stuff he'd worked on only since you'd gotten together, some stuff he's going through as part of his job as a performer on various musicals, and some popular items that are trending online (after you'd introduced him to some of your own favorite artists). it's a nice, calming background noise - and sometimes, you find yourself aching for it, needing it, especially when he's out doing things without you. the apartment just feels so lonely without him, y'know? like it's staring right back at you, taunting you. and you refuse to be taunted with. other times, you find yourself unconsciously sinking into it, not even noticing it, only understanding what you'd been doing the whole time after having dozed off into space for at least fifteen minutes

> (adding to his voice - he can go as low as he wants, or as high as he wants - he's not really limited with his range, having been training himself to achieve exactly that for his shows. naturally, he's more on the husky, deep side, but uh- if you want him to go deeper, or to maintain that depth for a longer amount of time... especially if that, khm, triggers something - well. he lives to serve.)

> oh, he does the best massages. all those muscles ain't for nothing, honey bee! he'd been building them up in prison for a long time - what else was he going to do, really? and a healthy body is a healthy mind, or so the others had been telling him for as long as he'd been there. all the more to hold you better, in his opinion - and goodness, do they come in handy when you'd had a stressful day at work. you don't understand him, sometimes - he's so good at anything physical, anything creative - you don't understand what his parents possibly could have not seen in him. it seems everything he does just comes almost naturally to him. being in prison makes you resourceful, you guess, but still! it's like everything he touches immediately softens, immediately bends to his will. (or is that just you?)

> he will teach you how to most effectively defend yourself, preferably with a knife (just don't tell Susie.). he's there to beat up anyone he needs to, despite how often you tell him it's fine, you've got it handled, and especially when you describe the likelihood of him going back to jail should he attempt something- but if he's not there, he likes to make sure you've got your own set of skills to rely on in a pinch. he'll even order a mannequin for you to practice on! isn't he just the sweetest? (plus, free boxing lessons! you beat him up once, didn't you? this time, he'll definetly beat you! and hey, practice never hurts!)

> surprisingly gentle. in a way that's like, agressive to everyone besides you, guard dog style. the kind where he'll shoot daggers at someone across the street while also holding your waist in a way where you can slip out easily without even struggling, if you wanted to, but also turns to you immediately if you do. ready to fight for you, puffing out his chest at someone who looked at you across the bar in distaste, but as soon as you're sneezing like a kitten next to him, he's not taking his eyes off the guy, no sir- but he is handing you a tissue off to the side. you okay, sweetheart? he's got you covered.

> I can totally see him being an amazing uncle figure. he'd be so good at it- not in that sense where you think he's the type of guy to teach his nephews how to fight, and protects his nieces to the point where he'd fight their partners tooth and nail - but in reality, he's the one telling off his niblings (gender neutral niece/nephew) against dabbling in substances, teaching them self defense and warning against using it for agression purposes, and generally being equally protective, no matter the gender. yeah, Yancy's the kind of guy to ask his niblings to send their partners to him and you first for evaluation, sure - but even then, his real only concern is if they're a decent enough partner, none of that 'You're too lousy to ever date my nibling, y'hear? Now scram!'. listen, this one makes you happy? you old enough to date? you got any history with abuse, discrimination, anything like that? no? cool. use protection (if they're at that age) and here's a fifty. go get some icecream and get his nibling some flowers, treat 'em nice. have fun, lovebirds!

> also the same uncle to get called on to babysit so frequently it's becoming a problem. the kids adore him - any kids, really. the same kind of energy is brought into fashion shows, tea parties and roughhousing sessions alike, no difference. 'Y' wanna win this fashion show? You have to make sure you're enough of a diva.', is delivered with the same strength as 'You wanna roll with the big boys? Too bad, rookie. Now you're gonna get it!' before play fighting. and we love that for him

> all he ever wanted was to have a family again, really. losing the inmates - the prison - well, he thought he was losing it all. it takes a while, even after you're married, to see that, hm, maybe that's not the case. you're still visiting, you're still connected - hey, even Heist pops up here and there (he was at your wedding. yes, he cried.) - to everything. if anything, you're more of an addition to the family, rather than a separate entity. the group just got a bit bigger, is all - and when they eventually leave jail, one way or another, most of the inmates still keep in contact with you. (if you ever end up having kids, they'll sure have a lot of aunts and uncles - and even more stories to tell.)

> he's not going to lie to you - sometimes, he dreams about moving to the countryside. yes, you're stuck in an apartment right now, and he can't really help but feel at home in the concrete jungle of it all, especially since it's somewhere he himself grew up, but uh- a garden? a house? maybe like, a chicken or two? a well-balanced community? well. maybe someday. maybe you can convince his friends to move with you, too! it would be so great, but he's staying realistic for now. he's got this whole gig in town right now, and a part of him wants to try and go big and famous like he'd always dreamed of, but... maybe. it's not off the table, not yet anyways

(> you come and see him every single show you can. it's hard, since you're busy, but even if you can't make it, he'll make sure and have someone videotape it for you, or you'll recruit someone instead. and then, when you get home, you can get all cozy on the couch, cuddling close, rewatch it a couple times until you sure the feedback you can give is solid - that's what he usually asks of you, anyways. he doesn't like to say it out loud, doesn't want to belittle anyone else, but when it's just you and him, he can be honest - your opinion matters to him the most.)

> biiiiiig words of affirmation type. you can never go anywhere without a little comment. 'Lookin' cute, there, toots. 'S that for me?', or, 'Hey, hey, watch it! Don' want you cuttin' yourself, yanno? Lemme check those pretty hands for any nicks-', or, 'Workin' hard or hardly workin', eh? My baby, so responsible.' with a kiss to the forehead, and so on and so forth. really, it's endless - though even as he's complimenting you, he'll only use nicknames inside the home. he doesn't want either of you to get too mushy, in case you're not taken seriously in some sense, which is something he really hates. he can be loving, he can be caring, but he isn't some jokester, y'know? or, well, not unless he wants to be. but that's intentional! (plus, there's the whole equality thing he's very keen on. when you're being close, you're being close. when you're kissing, being intimate, cuddling - you're doing that. you don't need him up in your business while you're taking care of work-related stuff. really, if anyone has well-intentioned, set boundaries, it's Yancy. it shows respect, love, loyalty. and he's all about that!)

> when you look back on it all, sometimes you can't believe you'd gotten married so soon. I mean, who are you, a celebrity? but then that key reminds you - swinging on a string around his neck while he's doing the laundry next to you on the balcony - and you try to think if you'd rather be anywhere else but here. nothing really comes to mind.

Darkiplier

Mistreated (1 - 2) - Every year on the same day, Dark receives memories of what happened to Celine and William and everyone else he cared about in the mansion because of Actor. And every year, Y/N tries to help him out by comforting him and doing things to make him happy. This year was no different except that Dark snaps out of no where.

You Promised Hold On My Home, His Cage Profess, Sir 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 The Nanny Take A Break

Illinois

It's Not Nothing Don't Let Go

Engineer Mark

Stay With Me Stay Put, Captain I Only Want You

Actor Mark

Dahlias Just A Pawn In His Game

Wilford Warfstache

A Broken Reality Silence The Thoughts

Yancy

Triggered Here For You

Damien

Sleep has sucked for you for the last little bit, tossing and turning in bed. Throwing off blankets and struggling to feel snug enough to not want to kick your legs in restlessness. Nothing feels safe and you are starting to become frustrated and upset with how inconsistent your sleep has been. This is all so unfair, you didn’t ask for this. 

Yancy, however, seems to notice this and approaches your bed as he walks past your room to crash on your couch. He’s been hanging around just until he gets his own space, and despite being a night owl tends to be pretty quiet in the evenings. 

“Oh, sorry… was I keeping youse up?”

You lift your head from your pillow, frowning at him.

“Huh-? Oh, no. I just, can’t sleep. It’s fine.”

“Youse’s face is telling me youse ain’t just fine. What can I’s do?”

He cautiously sits on the edge of your bed, looking at you like you’re terminally ill when you’re just having a bout of insomnia. 

“I don’t know, no matter how many blankets I put on, it never feels like enough. It feels like I’m not secure in my bed.”

Yancy ponders your predicament for a few seconds, before getting hit with a rare moment of brilliance. Well, brilliance for him.

“What if I just lay down on youse? I weigh plenties, and youse can sleep!”

“Yancy- that, you don’t need to do that. I know you’ll probably still be up for quite a bit and you’ll just get bored on top of me. Plus, isn’t that, a little weird…?”

“Youse made it to every conjugal visit for alls of my years in prison, it’s the least I can do for youse.”

Despite your earlier protestations, you decide to relent and let him try his idea. You toss the blankets off of you and let him in under the covers, and he quickly wraps his arms around your waist as he rests his head on your chest. Instead of feeling crushed, you feel cherished, protected. It’s like your body finally lets you put down your guard from whatever nonexistent threat there is in your home, and quickly starts pulling you down into deep sleep.

Yancy looks cross eyed down at you, before the tip of his nose becomes the focus of his attention. You can’t help but giggle as you take another bite of your chocolate covered strawberry, watching as your boyfriend reboots from you kissing the tip of his nose. Red juices from your lips leave a faint lip print on his face, which brings a smirk to your face.

When he sits there for perhaps a little bit too long, you reach up and swipe away the lip print on his skin with your thumb. His eyes return to you and his smile can’t even be disguised by his fake annoyance.

“What’s the big ideas with all that? Youse trying to get me to blue screen or whatever?”

“Am I not allowed to kiss? Oh, my apologies.”

“Ayo, I never said that.”

He leans in, trying to steal a kiss from you again but you just shove a strawberry in his face as you lean away. You cover your mouth with your hand, trying not to choke on your bite as his funny faces at the fruit in his face never fail to make you giggle uncontrollably. He looks down at you with a shining smile, making an exaggerated “nom” as he takes a bite out of the strawberry you’re shoving against his lips. 

When you no longer have a line of defense, he grabs your wrists with both of his hands and tries to hold you still as he covers your face in kisses. Even when you try to push him away as he tickles you, laughing at him as you swear that you’ll get him back for this, Yancy stays undeterred. He lets you get a bit of give from him, pushing him onto his back before he lets go of your wrists to let you fall on him.

Yancy’s arms wrap around you and trap you against his chest, using his legs to aide in trapping you in vicious snuggles as well. You get no mercy from the kisses, until you manage to hold his face still, long enough to kiss him properly and feel him melt beneath you. When you both part to breathe, he just gazes up at you like admiring a starry sky. His hand moves to comb through your hair, holding your cheek as he can’t help but fall in love with your features all over again.

“I’ms glad youse never skipped your visits…”

“Was parole worth it?”

“When I get this everyday? Sometimes youse make me wanna go back just to see youse’s excitement when I got out.”

“How about we skip the prison and just enjoy our strawberries?”