#[as usual: sorry for disappearing! some stuff has been keeping me away between health stuff and some personal things too]

[coollyinterferes]

Coming back to 234354657687 p*rn b*ts in the follower count...

“Not t’ be a killjoy, ladies, but I’m shamelessly gay and not interested...” Please go away.

[the-gamer-blog-for-anyone]

Hey, I figured I’d update y’all on why my posts have been few and far between. It’s a bit of venting but nothing terrible. Read if you want.

I’ll start by saying that I’m sorry for disappearing off the face of the earth every so often. I don’t mean to do that, life gets in the way a lot.

Now onto the stuff.

The major I was in (Music Ed) was a big factor this past semester. I got so stressed about things I had to get done that I got sick, not once, but twice in a row with the exact same illness. Mind you, this was within the span of a week or so, not a month; I have never had that happen before. My immune system is pretty good, so I usually heal pretty quick and am back on my feet, so twice with the illness, especially with it being almost worse the second time, is a problem. Even though it wasn’t something detrimental to my health (like pneumonia. Again.), I still know that if that stress had kept up, something like that could’ve happened.

Unfortunately, music education requires hours, and that moves into classes that need them for you to pass. I had already told the school that I didn’t have a car, but even that did not stop them from assigning me to somewhere that would require one. I thought I had it worked out because I was going to go during spring break, but that was when the illness I had the week before decided to make another impromptu visit. Yippee.

On the other end of things, I basically live in a glorified dorm right now at home. My mom, my brother, and I share a room (stuff and all). That leaves no space, which also leads to even more stress. Living with someone who wants us to wait on them every time we are home is not helpful either (meaning the three of us serve them), but we’re working on boundaries, even if they don’t want to participate.

The last thing is that I had already injured my leg before, but because of that injury and the surgery they did, I was informed recently that the increased leg pain I’m having is just something I have to live with until I can get it replaced (which can’t happen until you’re over 55). Considering I just turned 20 over a month ago, that already feels unusual; Most people my age are doing things I can’t do. It’s not that I hate that them for being able to do those activities, nor do I think that they are judging me for my lack of ability to do them (at least not logically), I just wish I could be a normal 20-year-old who can do them.

I’m mainly telling you so 1) you know why I may be somewhat depressed or go radio silent, but mainly because 2) things are getting better, and I plan to be back.

I’ve already changed majors- Bachelor of Arts as opposed to Music Ed- to take some of the stress away. Taking that off my plate already helped a lot. Plus, now I can actually get back on track for my Psychology minor (which has led me to question what my future goals are, but I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it).

In terms of housing, we recently heard from a friend about a better place to live temporarily until we can get a house of our own. That would help us a lot if that happens, but even if not, we can work it out. My family knows I need space, and I know they need it, too. After talking recently, we’ve figured out how to work it.

PT is doing good for at least keeping my leg stronger than it has been, and that’s a step in the right direction, even if I still have to get surgery within the next year or so.

Are there things that are still stressful and complicated? For sure. Here’s the thing though:

On top of all this, I know I have a good roommate for this coming year who knows me and my quirks. I also have, aside from my moots and friends on here, good college friends I can hang out with and know I can trust to understand if I need a break (love you @lovelyunknown and @joannaksworld). That makes life so much more bearable knowing I’m not alone.

Anyway, I plan to be back making plenty of happy posts very soon… Unless I have no ideas, which is definitely not impossible.

With that, I hope you have a great day. I love you all!

[peachybun-bun]

More Than One Night [pt 4]

pairing; Na Jaemin x f reader

genre; fluff, comedy, smut

notes/warnings; mention of eating, alcohol, Dreamies are roomies as usual. there was a brief insinuation of a bet where money is exchanged. semi-guided masturbation (female/male), unprotected sex, talk of kinks, sir kink, slight dom insinuation, sex health talk.

work count; 3.7k and some change (if you care about this)

PART 1, PART 2, PART 3

You had thought about Na Jaemin of course, but after the first day you wondered if he had really been interested, or if you had been simply a one night stand. Not that it was a bad thing, it was one hell of a one night stand. Still, you kinda felt like there had been something there. You had considered being the first one to text, but something in your gut told you to wait, so you did. 

Three days had passed. You had all but given up as you sat on your couch, sulking into a pint of Ben & Jerry’s, when your phone’s text message tone went off next to you on the couch. You figured it was your best friend. The two of you had been discussing what the next move was, and you had decided to skip out on the bar hopping. The best plan of action was ice cream, sweat pants, and cheesy rom coms far too early in the morning. 

Sliding your finger over the unlock, your eyes widens when you see the name. You almost lose your pint of ice cream to the floor, with how quickly you sit up, but manage to correct yourself. You sit it to the side, so you can see what Jaemin has sent you. It had been 3 days since you spoke to him, since he had brought you home in his car. 

Jaemin: Hey. I really enjoyed the other night but the company for breakfast was better. Would you like to get coffee and spend the day with me? If you aren’t busy of course. [7:45 am]

Staring for just a moment, you type a response, delete it, type another, and delete it again, before just sitting there. Of course you wanted to accept and go out, but you would need time. You hadn’t showered in a day, and you didn’t want to scare him off by going out in sweats. 

Jaemin watched the three dots pop up, and then vanish with a frown as he sat between Mark and Renjun now. The other two boys frowned, watching them disappear, making eye contact unsure what to do, until they heard the sound of a message come through. 

Y/N: Of course. That sounds wonderful actually. Want me to meet you somewhere in particular? [7:50 am] 

Mark lets out a breath first and nods, patting Jaemin’s head, before sliding away giving him space.

Renjun stays where he is, too interested in the action unfolding next to him. Jaemin simply raises a brow and pushes him with his elbow. “No way...I sat around for 3 days waiting for this. Answer her, jackass.”

Jaemin groans at Renjun's voice, and sighs as he types out his response, a smile spreading across his face. 

Jaemin: Can I pick you up? It’s a surprise. [7:51 am] 

Y/N: Sure. Give me an hour to get ready? [7:52 am] 

Jaemin: Of course. I’ll see you soon. [7:54 am] 

Jaemin grins and slides his phone into his hoodie jacket, before looking at Renjun who ruffles his hair. “Go get her, tiger.” 

An hour later, you found yourself looking much more presentable. You hadn’t dressed up per se, but you didn’t look like a girl from a heartbreak movie stuffing her face with ice cream anymore. Slipping on your jacket and shoes just in time as the doorbell rang, you glance behind you, hoping you had picked up enough stuff, before opening the door and smiling as you see Jaemin. 

Was it possible he looked even better after 3 days? God, he still smelled amazing. You really needed to figure out what it was he wore, for complete research purposes of course. “Hey there.”

He grins at you, and you can’t help but feel as your knees almost go weak. You keep yourself steady, pushing your hair behind your ear and grabbing your bag. “Hello, yourself. I wasn’t sure you were going to text me...but I’m glad you did.”

He tilts his head to your words and offers you his hand, which you take. “I’m sorry I kept you waiting, I promise I’ll explain before the end of the day.”

You laugh at the answer but nod. “Alright...so where are we going?” 

Jaemin couldn’t stop looking over at you. You were stunning, even more so than when he had met you in the bar. Casual clothes were your style. You looked trendy, but you weren’t trying too hard because you didn’t need to. His eyes wanted to drink in every inch of you, but he kept his place as his fingers laced with yours, leading you outside to his car. “There is a coffee shop I really love. It’s a little hole in the wall I usually like to keep to myself, but I’m willing to share my secrets with you, if you can keep the secret yourself.” 

You laugh and slide into his car as he opens the door. Once he was behind the wheel, you nod and put on your seatbelt. “I can keep a secret if it means I get to know more about you. Who are you hiding this shop from?”

Jaemin laughs and nods as he puts the car into gear, turning you in the direction of the shop. “Everyone...specifically my friends. Only Jeno knows where this place is, and he knows better than to tell the others. I like having my space from them sometimes.” 

That made complete sense. You remembered they had grown up together basically, so it was only logically for him to need some separation. “Well, cross my heart, your secret coffee shop is safe with me.”

Jaemin smiles and reaches his hand over to squeeze above your knee softly, “Perfect...you look beautiful by the way.” 

Your cheeks flush lightly. You glance at his hand on your knee and take a breath. “Thank you, you look pretty handsome today yourself, sir.”

He laughs, sucking in his bottom lip, raising a brow when you call him sir. He knew you hadn’t meant it in a sexual way, but it had an effect coming off your lips. “Careful...I might enjoy you calling me that too much.” 

A laugh escapes your lips, and you raise your brows. “I’m sorry, do you have a sir kink?”

Jaemin laughs, showing off his perfect teeth. You can’t help but smile at his reaction. Narrowing his eyes playfully, letting his teeth run over his bottom lip as he glances at you, he shrugs and looks back at the road. “How about we keep the kink talk for a little later this evening, because I have several questions for you in that department.” 

Your cheeks flush slightly, your eyes widening a bit as you look back to the road. “Well, I will look forward to that conversation later then.”

Jaemin smirks and winks at you, letting his hand squeeze your knee once more, before he puts both hands back on the wheel to turn into the alley and find a parking spot. You look up to see the sign, but it was so faded you couldn’t make out more than Bean... and was that Bag? 

Jaemin gets out, waiting for you to join him, and offers you his hand as soon as you are close enough. “I’m going to be honest, Jaemin. Place looks a little sketchy.” 

Laughing, Jaemin scratches the back of his neck as he leads you towards the building and inside. “It’s not, I promise.” 

The bell above the door announces your entrance. You glance around, pleasantly surprised by how different the inside was compared to the outside. Inside was warm, smelled delicious as expected of any coffee shop, and most importantly there were only a few patrons. Jaemin smiles watching you take in a deep breath. “I know...wait till you taste their coffee.” 

With your two Americanos, along with the largest muffin you had ever seen, Jaemin leads you to what he explains is his favorite spot. Next to the window is an oversized chair that he usually sits in alone, today he shares with you. He was right, the coffee was some of the best you have had, and the muffin was more than enough to share. Jaemin breaks off bits of the muffin to hand to you to eat, but after a while just offers for you to take from his fingers. 

After an hour or so of family discussion, learning more about his friends and your friends, he threw away the rest of the muffin and the garbage. He waves to the shop owner, before leading you back out to the car. “Do you want some actual food? We can take some corn dogs home.”

Smiling, you nod as he opens the passenger's side door for you this time, letting you slip into your seat, before taking his own. You could get used to this. You weren’t sure what it was yet, but you liked it. 

----------------------------------

Jaemin’s foot opens the door as he holds the large box of corn dogs, letting you slip past him. A bag of cider, cola, and soju is in your hand as you glance around the entrance way. You hadn’t been sure you’d be back in this house, but here you were.

It was much louder during the day, than the night you had slipped in with Jaemin. He winks at you as he kicks his shoes off, and gestures to you to go on in. You had to admit, even though you had met all of his roommates, you still weren’t sure how they felt about you, or you just barging into their living space. “With you…”

Jaemin smiles at your words and nods, putting his free arm around your shoulders. He balances the box of food on his hand as he walks you into the house, glancing into the living room and finding everyone besides Jisung. “Where is Jisung?” 

Mark glances up, noticing the food first, then you with a grin. “At that concert. Hey, Y/N! Good to see you again. Let me get that.” He takes the drinks from you, and Jeno takes the box of food out of Jaemin’s hands, opening it on the coffee table with a grin.

“Don’t eat all of them. Save some for us.”

Jeno nods, already grabbing one coated in sugar and taking a big bite, before waving at you with a string of cheese hanging from his mouth. You can’t help but smile while shaking your head. 

Jaemin was more surprised than you at how easily you seemed to fit in after less than an hour. He had his arm around your waist, his fingers lazily playing with your shirt over your stomach as your hand rested on his leg.

Jeno watched curiously, amused with how quickly it seemed that Jaemin was able to treat you like this. He knew his friend was guarded, but with you it was like you had always been there. He felt a pang of jealousy, before turning away taking a shot of soju, his attention back on the movie. 

You relax against Jaemin, enjoying the feel of his fingers brushing against your skin as his fingers trail under the cotton of your shirt. A smile on your face, you glance at him as he gives you a sly look, gesturing his eyes behind the couch towards his room. As you nod, he smiles and slides his arm from you, before standing taking your hand.

Renjun looked up at you two with a smirk, not saying anything. Chenle was less subtle, laughing and putting his hand out to Mark, who put a bill into his hand. 

Jaemin kicks Chenle’s leg out of the way with a scoff, before leading you away from his friends, down the hall and into his room. He lets the door close, behind you both with a soft click, as he locks the door. You sit on his bed stretching a bit, your cheeks a bit flushed from having watched the interaction between his friends as you two had decided to have some time alone from them. 

Watching you carefully, Jaemin smiles a bit just standing there, before you give him a look and laugh. “What is it?”

He laughs and crawls on the bed behind you, pulling you too him to hold you closely. Your leg drapes over his, your knee resting between his legs. “Nothing...ready to have that talk?”

If you had thought your cheeks were flushed before, now they were bright pink. Jaemin laughs, watching it happen, before leaning to press a kiss to each cheek. “We don’t have to talk about it…”

You shake your head at his words and smile. “No, we can. It’s probably actually important if we are going to do this right?”

Jaemin nods in agreement as his fingers slide down your arm and over to your waist, where his fingers claim your skin again, tracing small shapes causing you to draw in a breath. 

“I already know you have a thing about being called sir.”

Jaemin laughs at your statement, and bites his bottom lip, “You don’t have to if you don’t want to, but yeah it’s pretty hot. I know you can listen...seems like you like a little direction.”

You suck in a breath again as his finger slides along the waistband of your jeans. You nod, as your eyes close to the feel of his fingers against your hip. “I do...and you liked to tell me what to do, so that seemed to work out.” 

Jaemin grins and nods as his fingers find the button of your jeans, working it open. “I did. I do. Now to the important boring stuff...I’m clean, I get tested frequently.”

You gasp as his fingers slide down your zipper, the pad of his fingers pressing against your lower abdomen over the top of your panties, as he waits for you to speak. “I am too...and I’m on birth control.”

He grins at that knowledge, sliding his fingers into your panties and over your folds, causing you to gasp. “That’s good, I’ll still use a condom if you want me to.”

You shake your head, “You don’t have to, as long as we are safe.” Your eyes finding him as his index finger circles your clit in a tight motion.

Jaemin leans to press a kiss to your lips, using his body to put you on your back, his fingers never leaving you. “I don’t know what I want this to be...but I don’t want you with anyone else. Is that okay?”

You moan, lifting your lips towards his finger, as his other hand works your jeans down with gentle tugs. “Yes...I don’t want you with anyone either. You are all I could think about.” 

Grinning, Jaemin kisses your jaw, before pulling back his face and hand, so that he can undress you more efficiently. “I couldn’t get you off my mind. I’m sorry I took so long, but 3 days is good luck. I wanted this to work.”

You laugh a bit, still not understanding. Your laugh is cut off as your shirt is removed over your head, and Jaemin’s mouth is gently nipping at your skin over your bra. “Why 3 days?” 

Running his tongue over lace, he looks up to meet your eyes, before slipping his hands behind your back and unclasping your bra, so he can pull it from you. “3 is my favorite number, it’s never failed me. I had to wait exactly 3 days, but it almost drove me crazy. All I could think about was getting you back here, and back in my bed. I wanted my mouth all over you, to taste you.”

You moan his name softly, running your fingers through his soft hair as his tongue circles your nipple, causing your back to arch. “I wanted that so much, Jaemin…”

He groans against your skin, hearing his name on your lips. “What did you do when you thought about me?”

You smile at his question, lifting your hips as he slides your panties down, his mouth breaking from your breast. You watch as he pulls his shirt over his head, eyes watching you full of lust. “Show me what you did.” 

Jaemin slides off the bed, and you do as he asks, sliding your hand down your stomach as you spread your legs. Fingers dip towards your entrance, past your folds, his eyes following your hand intently as he works his jeans and boxers down.

Pressing your middle finger into your core, you moan and close your eyes, arching your back off his bed. You had done this several times in the past days while you waited for him to call. All you could think about was the night you two had shared, and how much you hadn’t wanted to leave his bed. 

Groaning as he runs his hand over his mouth, his other hand gripping his length, Jaemin strokes himself a few times, watching as your finger gently dips into and out of your wet pussy. You were so beautiful, and now he could say you were his. “That’s so good. When you were touching yourself at home, did you think about how I made you moan my name so much that you could barely speak the next morning?” 

Moaning to his words and the thought, you slip a second finger past your folds and nod, “Yes, sir…”

Jaemin thrusts into his hand when you call him sir, a louder groan crossing his lips. Your eyes finding his hand wrapped around his cock, you bite your bottom lip, before moving your gaze to his eyes. He shakes his head and runs his free hand through his hair, “You have no idea what you do to me...let me taste those fingers, baby.” 

Sliding your fingers from between your legs, you hold up your hand as Jaemin kneels on the bed between your legs to take your wrist. His eyes on yours as he sucks your fingers into his mouth, licking your fingers clean with a groan. Pulling his head back, he licks his lips and leans to press his lips to yours in an eager kiss.

Your hands slide up into his hair, keeping him close, until he grabs your wrists and pins your hands above your head, looking down at you. “I want to take my time with you, but all I think about is getting inside of you.”

You flush at his words, lifting your hips towards him, wanting the same thing. Jaemin’s lips move to press at your throat, causing you to press your head back into the pillows, as your nails gently make half moon indentations in your palms as he keeps your hands from him. 

“I’m not sure I’ll ever let you leave, baby...just leave you in my bed and worship you like this every single moment of every day. Does that sound good?”

You moan as you feel his knee press your legs further open. You help him, lifting your leg to wrap around his hip. Jaemin moves both of your wrists to one hand, moving his free one to grip his shaft, putting his head at your entrance as he waits for your answer. 

Nodding, you look up at him now that you can see his face again. “Yes, sir...I never want to leave. I want you all the time. God please...Jaemin.”

He smiles as you all but beg for him to thrust into you. He doesn’t keep you waiting, as he shifts and slides his cock into you slowly. A groan falling from his lips, that is silenced as his mouth hits your neck again. His free hand grips at your hip, as his hand on your wrists keeps them held tightly.

Moving his lips to your ear, he lowers his voice, speaking in whispers as his hips begin to move in a deep steady rhythm. “You feel so good...you’re perfect.”

You whine into a moan, feeling your skin chill as his voice vibrates against your ear, causing chill bumps to spread over your skin. You can’t help but to dig your heel into his hip, pulling him closer to you, as your hips rise to meet each of his thrusts. He was right, it felt so good. You could feel pressure building as he arched his hips and began to thrust harder, hitting you just right. “Jaemin...oh my god.”

A smirk on his lips, he loved hearing that desperation on your lips. God, he loved the way you sounded as your walls closed around him, your orgasm causing his thrusts to become all that more urgent. Jaemin groans loudly, before moving his lips back to yours, biting at your bottom lip to the point that it was throbbing softly into the kiss.

You hear a strained moan escape into the kiss as Jaemin cums into you, slowly coming to a stop to lay on top of you. His hand on your wrist releases your hands, which immediately move to grip at him, one finding his hair and pulling his face closer as you deepen the kiss. Your other hand scratches lightly at his waist, as his hips lazily thrust one last time. 

After a moment, Jaemin slides from you and turns to lay on his back, looking up at the ceiling with a grin. You laugh softly to yourself, before turning to press a kiss to his chest, working soft kisses up to his lips, causing him to laugh in return as his hand slides over your back. “I really could get used to this, you know?” 

You pull back from the kiss to look at him as he speaks. Shaking your head, you smile and run your fingers over his cheek, before kissing the tip of his nose. “I could too. I can tell you that I can’t wait to get to know you even better, and see where this goes, because no one else has had me this head over heels after making me sit around for 3 days.” 

Jaemin laughs and closes his eyes, groaning, before running a hand over his face, knowing he wasn’t going to live down his 3 day rule. “I promise I will make it up to every single day if I have to.”

You smile and nod, “I’ll hold you to that promise.”

Jaemin grins and pushes your hair behind your ear, knowing he’d be happy to keep that promise if it was you.

[frombeyondtheblackhole]

Hermit DSMP Swap AU: Part 8

X helped Grian sit back down and handed Grian a clean rag from his inventory. Grian pressed it against his nose to curb the bleeding as X checked his eyes. X asked Grian several basic questions before asking him to count backwards from 100 by sevens and listened as his friend struggled. 

“100… 97 no 93… 87... um... um, ow-” He faltered, staring into space for a long moment. 

“You’ve got a concussion.” X shook his head.

“Can’t I just take a health pot and get back to work?” Grian asked.

X folded his arms and shook his head “Health pot’s don’t work like that. You know how when you take a health pot the cuts all seal up just leaving some bruising. A concussion is just a bruise on your brain so it would be kind of useless. Regen might help a little because it boosts your body's natural healing process but it has the same problem as health in that it won't target bruising. I would avoid coffee for now and anything else with speed pots in it for that matter,” X added, noticing Grian reaching for his unfinished coffee mug.

Grian pouted “What can I do?” 

“You can go home and rest... though you probably shouldn’t be flying for a while. I’ll walk back with you.”

Grian sighed and let X help him to his feet. To be honest he was starting to like the idea of resting, his head was spinning and he was having trouble focusing. “Alright, you win. Just be sure to let me know if you figure anything out about the whole server problem will you.”

“Don’t worry, you’ll be the first to know,”

---

The day before, Scar and Grian had given Skeppy and George a tour of Boatem. Scar had offered to let the two of them stay in his landboat (As it had more space than Grian’s house) till they could make their own starter bases. 

Skeppy had been startled when, as soon as it started to get dark, the sun blipped in the sky and it was on the other horizon. George explained to him that the night was skipped here, something to do with a Time King named B-dubs. He apparently could cause night to skip for everyone if he slept. George wished he could do cool things like that when he slept, as it was, all he did was talk to demons or gods or whatever XD was. Skeppy insisted that was way cooler than time powers. George didn’t believe him.

Grian had left to work with X on the server problem and Scar was off gathering some stuff to help get them settled in. This left Skeppy and George alone to snoop around Boatem town on their own. They explored Scar’s base but soon became tired of that and went outside. 

They were nosing around Grian’s base and the nether portal when Skeppy noticed something odd. There were a lot of things here he had never seen before but this felt different somehow. It was about a foot in diameter, dark and smooth and round, shining with a deep purple iridescence, and it seemed to call to Skeppy, like the egg, like the blood vines. It called to him, not quite with words but more with instinct, urging him to touch it. Skeppy reached out-

“What’s that you found?” George called snapping Skeppy out of his trance. 

“I have no clue,” Skeppy shrugged.

George came closer and squinted behind his glasses, bringing his face close to the things surface. The air around it tingled like static. “I never saw one myself but I think it might be a Dragon egg,” George said, reaching his hand out to touch it.

Skeppy shoved George out of the way and grabbed for the egg. He was going to be the first one to touch it. The Dragon Egg. His fingers brushed against the smooth surface then fell through to air. He stumbled and caught himself on the now empty quartz pedestal. 

“What the hell, Skeppy?” George protested. Then his eyes fell on the egg sitting on the grass not far from him. 

They’d both seen it. Skeppy caught his eyes. They held each other's gaze, silently urging the other to stay put. They both lunged for it. 

Skeppy collided with George practically landing on top of him but it was too late George's hand knocked into the egg and it disappeared.

Both of them scrambled to their feet looking for where it went. Skeppy found it over the hill but hesitated before reaching for it this time. 

“No you don’t” George cried coming up behind him. Skeppy jumped at the sound seconds before George tackled him directly into the egg and it was gone again. 

“Ow ow- hold on, get off,” Skeppy protested, pushing his palm against George’s face trying to shove George off himself, “This isn’t working. It’s being all teleporty and shit.”

George backed off, and huffed to himself, as he brushed himself off. 

“What are you two doing?” Scar said as he came over. “Oh look,” He stopped as he noticed the dragon egg at his feet. He placed down a piston next to it and a button and *boop* the egg was pushed right into his arms. He picked up the egg and looked back at the two who were still sitting on the ground, grass stains on their clothes and hair disheveled from their fight. “Looks like you two touched the egg. Don’t worry, I won’t tell Grian,” He said with a wink placing it back on the pedestal. 

Skeppy and George just stared at him. “Wait, how did you do that!” Skeppy shrieked pointing. 

Scar laughed, “The egg can be tricky, it doesn't like being touched but you can trick it into thinking it isn’t being held by using a piston. You can also break the block underneath it and catch it as it falls, just make sure to place a torch first... something about the heat is important.”  

“I’m holding it!” Skeppy announced scrambling to his feet and moving towards the egg. 

“Who says you get the egg, I saw it too,” George argued.

“We’ll I saw it first,” Skeppy retorted, sticking his tongue out, summoning his shovel from his inventory.

George scowled “You didn’t even know what it was till I told you.” He summoned his netherite axe from his inventory, the one XD had given him. 

“Well you didn’t even know that it teleported so-” Skeppy started digging down next to the pedestal.

“Woh woh woh, you both can hold it if you want,” Scar said trying to break up the tension “You can’t keep it though, it’s Grian’s,” He added.

Skeppy and George both turned and glared at him. There was a calculating pause then George’s posture changed, he seemed to relax. “Heh- sorry about that,” He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, “It’s just neither of us have ever seen a dragon egg, guess we got a bit carried away,” He shrugged. 

George wanted that Dragon egg more than anything. Skeppy probably did too. That was the rarest thing on the server and if someone could get it and bring it back to the Dream SMP then they would be the most powerful person on the server. But there were a lot of hermits. Way more than the two of them. It was probably best that they not make them mad. He could find a way to get the egg without them noticing another time. 

Skeppy looked surprised and a little too satisfied with himself as he continued to dig out under the pedestal. He placed the torch and mined away the pedestal catching the egg as it fell. It was surprisingly warm, he felt it vibrating with power as he held it against his chest, his arms wrapped around it, nestled in the folds of his bright blue hoodie. He grinned, he felt like a proud father, why did he feel like a proud father? He hadn’t even felt this way about Sapnap and he practically helped Bad raise him… multiple times.  

“Don’t look so pleased with yourself, it's not that great,” George scoffed, rolling his eyes. 

“Hey Scar, can you come over here real quick” X called as he and Grian walked back into Boatem town. 

“Yeah, be right over,” Scar called back before turning to Skeppy and George “Just make sure to put it back,” He said before running over to see what X and Grian needed. 

George glared at Skeppy over his glasses, he was still holding his ax. “You're putting it back ok,”

Skeppy turned his body to put himself between George and the egg. “And why should I?” He pouted. 

“Because,” George said calmly and quietly, so the others talking by Grian’s house couldn’t hear, “If you take it now they will know it was us and won’t let us leave.” George watched the gears turn in Skeppies head “So truce for now... we work together to steal the egg later,” 

Skeppy glanced off to the side as he thought about it. Finally he nodded “Alright, agreed,” His fingers were crossed. 

George grinned and pushed his glasses back into place “Great.” His fingers were crossed. 

Skeppy climbed out of the hole and George helped him put the dirt and pedestal back. Skeppy begrudgingly let George hold the egg before putting it back on the Pedestal.

Ok so maybe holding the egg was kind of cool George thought smiling softly before Skeppy made him put it back.

---  

“So what’s up?” Scar asked coming over to join X and Grian. Now that Scar looked at him, Grian wasn’t looking too great. His feathers and hair were rumpled more than usual and he was leaning on X’s arm. “You ok there?” 

“Yeah, Just got a concussion.” Grian shrugged. 

“He flew into a barrier while trying to get into the Dream SMP Server,” X explained.

“Oof,” Scar winced at the description.

“He should be fine after a month or so, he just needs to rest and not do anything too strenuous.” X continued, “Also it is probably a good idea not to let him sleep unsupervised for a couple of days.” 

“Got it,” Scar nodded “I’ll be sure to keep him in line,” 

“C'mon guys, you don’t trust me?” Grian teased.

“I wouldn’t trust you with a ten foot pole,” Scar laughed. 

“Fair,” Grian chuckled, “Well anyway, thanks for walking with me back here X” He said letting go of X’s arm.

“No problem, just take it easy, got it?” X reminded Grian.

“Don’t worry. Besides this means I’ll have plenty of time to help the new guys settle in.” Grian added as he noticed Skeppy and George standing looking at his Dragon egg. 

“Oh no you don’t. You are going inside and resting,” Scar said, taking Grian by the shoulders and guiding him into his house. 

“No, but- I, I’m fine really,” Grian protested

“No buts, You rest, I’ll take care of everything.” Scar insisted and Grian gave up, letting himself be led off to bed. 

[So I know I said I already had a bunch written in advance but when editing this part I realized I needed to add some interactions with Skeppy and George. I really like how this turned out but it is now longer than I originally planned so I am breaking it up into sub parts. The next segment will be out soon]

[robust-cicada]

Fade Out Again (Thom Yorke X Reader)

For @shehangsbrightly

prompt: honestly i would be allll over the bends era thom, and i think something angsty is what i’m feeling rn. do your magic 😌

Gender Neutral and SFW

CW: angst, burnout, arguments, swearing, guilt, break up, bad mental health.

“I really don’t know what you want from me! I thought you’d be happy to see me after, I don’t know? Nearly a year? But no, I’m the bad guy as always!”

“You think that you’re the only one this tour has taken a toll on? I haven’t been in the comfort of my own home in a year. I haven’t seen my friends or family in a YEAR! You can’t always expect to be my top priority!”

“Obviously. You know, every tour you do the more of a self-centered asshole you become. Just because your band is ‘making it big’ doesn’t mean you have to treat the people in your life like shit, Thom! It isn’t just me. Ed literally has told me numerous stories from when you got too drunk to even perform! You promised.”

“Oh enough of that promise bullshit Y/N! I’m sick of it!”

“Well, that shows how much you fucking cared about it, huh? Shows what a promise means to you? You’re pathetic. The amount of love and support I have poured into you since fucking college and one hit song throws every promise and hope for our future away.”

“Oh fuck off.”

I let out a dry laugh and walked to our bedroom. I grabbed a suitcase and packed as much as I could shove into it.

“What are you doing now?”

“Fucking off. I’m done, Thom. Absolutely done.”

“Yeah sure. You won’t last more than two days Y/N, and you know it. We’ve been through this before.”

I stormed towards him, his back colliding with the wall. I looked into his eyes, trying to look for any sign of remorse in his cold, blue orbs.

“Not this time Thom. I’m tired of crawling back to you with hopes that things will be how they used to again. I am tired of endlessly longing for you to return the love I give to you. You’ve changed and if this is you now? I want no part of it.”

He scoffed and looked away from me.

“Anything to say? Or are you too good for that, Mr. Big Rockstar?”

“Don’t let the door hit you on the way out.”

I scoffed and grabbed my stuff. I stormed out onto the snowy streets. It was freezing but I didn’t dare look back. It felt like I had been walking for hours before I found a phone booth. I put the change in the slot and dialed the only number I could remember through my rage.

“Hey, Eddie? It’s Y/N..”

“What happened this time?”

“Well, what usually happens when he gets home I suppose. Are you busy?”

“Need somewhere to stay?”

“Ye-ah.” My voice cracked as tears swelled my eyes.

“Where are you, I’ll be there as soon as I can?”

---

It had been nearly two months since we broke up and not a word was spoken between us. Ed had generously let me rent out the spare room in his house until I got my shit together, which did not seem to be happening. All I could seem to do was cry, work, and sleep. Eddie was wonderful and tried to help when he could, but he tended to keep his distance. At some point, I knew Thom would end up stumbling into the house, however, I did not expect to hear his voice breaking downstairs as he talked to Ed.

Thom’s POV

“Ed, it’s driving me mad! Do you know where they are, have you heard from them, anything?”

“If they wanted you to know where they were, they would’ve contacted you. I can’t really help you, man.”

“I just. I can’t do this anymore. I need them, so badly. You don’t fucking understand.” I crumbled to the ground in tears. “It’s my fault. Every time they leave it’s my fault and- and I just expect them to come back. What happened to me, Eddie? What... happened?”

“Thom. You’re the only person who’s gonna be able to fix this and you know it. I’m not helping you anymore. We’ve been through this too many times. I’m not a fucking couples counselor!” He grabbed his hair in frustration.

“You… You too? You’re supposed to be my best friend, and you’re giving up on me too?”

“You know what, Thom? That’s your problem. You can’t take any fucking responsibility for anything, can you? It’s always somebody else’s fault with you!”

I couldn’t even form a response. My thoughts spiraled rapidly as I tried to figure out where everything went to shit.

“I-I’m so-rry. I don’t know what to do, a-and I don’t mean to throw it all on you, Eddie, you… You’re just always so good with this stuff and you know them so well and- and- and..”

“Thom,” He held his head in his hand, “take a breath. There’s no need for all the blubbering.”

“But-”

“Just shut up for a minute okay? I’ll be right back.”

He marched up the stairs and disappeared. A few minutes later he came back down. Followed by Y/N.

Y/N’s POV

His face was tear-stained and puffy. He was in a pile on the floor looking as hopeless as an abandoned puppy.

“Y/N..”

I felt my jaw clench as I looked at him. I wanted to slap him and yell at him for everything he put me through, but my body betrayed me. Instead, I found myself kneeling in front of him, arm reaching out to cup his face in my hand. Tears streamed down his cheeks once again as he rested in my palm. He turned to kiss my fingertips.

“I’m sorry Y/N… I took you for granted. I thought you would always come back, and this time you didn’t, and my ego left with you. I need you, I need you so badly love. I can’t do this without you. Please I will do anything to have you back… Please.” He was barely speaking and as he whispered he looked me in the eyes for the first time in years.

“I... I can’t, Thom.”

His posture snapped to attention and I watched his heart shatter again.

“Why not..?”

“You hurt me.”

Tears of my own now mimicked his.

“Please.”

“Thom, stop.”

“I can’t. I can’t because I love you, and if you ever loved me then you would come back.”

“Don’t you fucking dare with that bullshit Thomas.”

I stood and walked away, but he followed.

“Love doesn’t go away Y/N, you told me that yourself. If you loved me you wouldn’t walk away like this. You’re really willing to throw everything away like that?”

“Stop. Thom, I- I can’t do this, just go.”

“I’m not leaving without you.”

“And I’m not leaving with you.”

He approached me and gently grabbed my hands, giving me the same damn look he did every time he wanted to get his way.

“No, Thom. Stop. Please.”

“One more chance, that’s all I ask. If I fuck it up again I promise you will never hear from me again. I’ll take you on the next tour, I’ll let you get a puppy like you’ve always wanted. Literally, anything you want is yours. You don’t ever have to work again. Just, please?”

“You still don’t get it. I don’t want material things or money. I don’t, well I do want a puppy,” We chuckled, “But that’s not why I left. All I want is your love, some of your time and attention. I want to feel safe with you. I want to feel at home. I don’t feel like that with you anymore. The only feelings that run through me when I look at you are sadness and insecurity. You make me feel like a child being scolded by their mother. I just can’t live like that again.”

“I promise that I will fix what needs to be fixed and will do anything I can to make you feel safe again, just trust me.”

“We both know promises aren’t your thing.”

“I’ll keep this one.”

“I can’t believe that, Thom.”

“I’ll let Ed take over the band if I break this promise and I will never perform with Radiohead again.”

“Oh, shove off you lunatic! I’m not worth that. Your fans would have my head.”

“I’m serious.”

“You make everything so hard on me.”

“Jesus, Y/N would you please just say yes? All you have done the past two months aside from work is cry and sleep. I can barely get you to eat. Just get it over with. If he fucks you over again I will personally skin him alive, just, get it over with you two!”

Thom looked at me hopefully. I sighed.

“Fine.”

“THANK YOU! THANK YOU! THANK YOU!”

He planted kisses all over my face and pulled me into a tight hug.

“Jesus, Thom, you smell! When was your last shower?”

“I... I have no clue,” He scratched his neck and looked at the ground.

“I mean, you are rank! You smell like a secondary boys locker room after P.E.”

“Okay, in my defense, I didn’t think you were going to be here.”

“Yeah, so it’s okay that I suffer in your stench then?”

“Well, we’ve shared a tour bus, I figure that you’re used to it by now.”

“Well, by that logic, if Y/N is coming on tour with us, they better get used to it too, because you’ve smelled worse after a show.”

“Lovely.”

He laughed and engulfed me in a hug again. I gave in and dug my face into his neck, letting him rock us side to side.

“Let’s get you home then, yeah?”

“If anyone needs to get home it’s you so you can shower!”

“We can shower together if you’d like.”

“Okay, yeah, if you could leave the dirty talk for the car ride home it would be appreciated.”

We laughed once again.

“I’ll go pack,” I placed a soft kiss on his cheek before walking up the stairs.

“I love you, Y/N!”

“I love you too Thom.”

[kind-of-crazy-butthatsokay]

What is wrong?

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader

Warnings: Anxiety attacks, unhealthy image of self, hurt/comfort, all the angst, depression

Word count: 1.1k (drabble)

Author’s note: This is literally just a piece self-soothing writing. I was having a bad morning and writing this was the only thing that helped. This is obviously based off my own experiences, so I am sorry if it doesn’t work for everyone out there. Reader is written in first person persepctive and is gender neutral. Not proofread.

“Come on, you gotta eat,” Steve says, gently pulling at the blanket I cocooned myself into. When I don't react, he pulls a little firmer and I grunt in displeasure, a scowl pinching my already frowning face.

“No. I'm not hungry,” I grumble out and pull my hand out of my blanket cocoon to yank the corner of the fabric he has in his grip back and stuff if under my curled up body.

“Doll, please,” Steve pleads, concern seeping into his voice. I can feel the mattress dip as he settles carefully behind me, perching himself on the edge. He's probably staring at my back with that concerned and hurt puppy dog look. I can see it without having to turn around to check.

His concern and prodding agitates me. Unrightfully so. He is just being nice, concerned for my health and well-being. Whereas I am being an ass for no reason in particular, it seems.

“I said, I am not hungry,” I spit angrily, further curling up underneath the blankets, my fists clenching the material between my fingers.

I can hear Steve sigh, a defeated sound that I know is accompanied by the sag of his broad shoulders and sad eyes. He gets up, the dip in the mattress disappearing as he lifts his weight from it and quietly pads across the carpeted floor.

“I'm in the living room if you need anything,” he says and then pushes down the doorhandle, nudging the door open and stepping out of the room to let me stew alone in my misery.

I listen to the soft 'click' of the door falling shut. As soon as it's closed, some of the defensive tension bleeds from my rigid frame. Fists relaxing a little, I let out a defeated sigh of my own, burrowing deeper into the thick blankets I'm hiding under.

It's always like this. 

I'll be excited for the weekend to come as I work hard during the week, coming home tired and burnt out to an equally exhausted Steve. But when those two blessed days finally arrive, it is as if I am paralysed. All the optimistic and giddy plans I made over the course of the week simply evaporate as I lay curled up in bed, rendered useless by an oppressive weight crushing my chest.

Unable to focus on anything other than staring at the ceiling, I lie in bed and stew in the negative emotions. The overwhelming heavy feeling that pulls down the corners of my mouth as I begin to wonder what might be wrong with me.

With that comes the sadness and frustration of not getting anything done, not doing something I enjoy to unwind from the long week. And the guilt of pushing Steve away, who works just as hard but seems to be able to pull himself together for the little free time he has and actually does things he enjoys.

And I am ruining that for him. With my sour mood and unresponsiveness. I worry him, bringing down his mood and wasting what little time he usually has with me.

My lip starts to wobble and I squeeze my eyes shut.

“What is wrong with me?” I whisper to myself, a broken question tumbling from a heavy tongue. Tears form in my eyes and I suck in a desperate breath of air as they begin to fall, squeezing past my tightly shut eyes and wetting my scrunched up face.

“Why... Why can't I just enjoy myself like anyone else,” I cry quietly, chin tilting towards my chest as I pull my head deeper into the cocoon of blankets protecting me. My body starts rocking back and forth softly, sobs and broken whimpers falling from my lips as I lay there pitifully.

I am so immersed in my own sorrow, I don't hear the soft whisper of the door being pushed open, neither the almost soundless taps of Steve's bare feet on the plush carpet in the bedroom I am hiding away in. Only when the mattress dips behind me once more, do I notice his presence.

My sobs stutter to a halt, similar to my breathing as I lay motionless for a moment, a feeling of icy terror spreading through my veins at having been caught in such a state.

“Oh sweetheart,” Steve mumbles quietly, shifting behind me until I feel his hands carefully peeling away my fortress of blankets and pillows to reveal my puffy face and red eyes.

He is gentle when he catches my face, keeping it from turning away in embarrassment and once more hide under the blankets. Moving his warm, steady hand to the back of my neck, his other arm snakes beneath the covers and wraps around my back. Holding me like that, he lifts me from the pile of blankets and settles me on his lap. His hands move, arms wrapping around me fully as he cradles me to his warm chest.

Sitting there, sideways on his lap with my ear pressed to his chest, the tears start flowing again. With them, apologies spill forth, one after the other. Words get jumbled up and sentences messy as I try to vocalise how sorry I am for being miserable, that I don't mean to be a drag and ruin his precious time off.

Steve doesn't say anything, just holding me tightly and softly rocking us. He's shushing me when the sobs make my breath hitch and I can't breathe right, helping me to calm with his own measured breathing.

After what feels like an eternity passes, but couldn't have been more than twenty minutes, I am relatively calm. The shaking sobs stopped, only soft sniffling audible every now and then. My eyes are swollen and heavy when I finally look at Steve for the first time this day.

“There you are,” he coos softly, dipping his head to press a kiss to my forehead. I melt into his embrace, face hiding against his chest as I breathe in the warm, homely scent of him.

“I made french toast. Stole some of that jam from Bucky's kitchen. The raspberry mix you like so much,” he says quietly, squeezing my body once before continuing, “How about we get up and cosy up on the couch with our breakfast? Does that sound alright to you?”

My heart thumps heavily in my chest as tears once more brim in my eyes. But this time, they are tears of adoration and gratefulness. Sniffling once more, I give a tiny nod against his chest, the hum I utter muffled by his shirt.

“Thank you, sweetheart. Now, do you want to walk yourself or am I allowed to carry you?” Steve asks, a teasing undertone in his voice. He knows exactly I don't like it when he carries me.

A weak, rusty sounding chuckle breaks loose in my chest and spills from my lips. I swat his arm weakly and lift my heavy head from his chest.

“I'll walk, thank you,” I say dryly and the smallest of smiles curves my lips when I see Steve smiling down at me, eyes sparkling with amusement and affection.

[kareofbears]

plainly in truth, chapter 5/5

"Without you around, it's sorta like stuff is just kinda...bleh."

Or: hiding, confiding, and misguiding.

read the final chapter below or the entire work on ao3

—

“Help us, Saras—” a stream of coughing rings out, eating up the rest of the words.

“What the hell happened!?”

“I don’t know! One minute he was kicking ass, and the next—”

“He’s down! Oracle, scan him for signs of life.”

Their voices sound far and muffled, like he was under a foot of ice.

“He’s alive, I know he is. Kikur…” More coughing, wet and almost retching. “Dammit!”

“Skull hasn’t moved in ages and we pumped him with more Diaharan than we know what to do with!”

“Then why isn’t he moving?”

He feels like he got hit with back-to-back garbage trucks, all fully loaded with an entire city’s trash and was going eighty down the freeway.

“I...I don’t know…!”

“Why not? Why the hell not?”

“Joker!”

“Unicorn—” Actual retching comes this time, sporadically. “Why isn’t—!”

“Please stop! You’re only going to get yourself hurt!”

“Akira. Quit it, or I’ll cast a Dormin so strong you’ll wake up next year.”

A groan escapes his lips, and all arguing stops.

“Oh thank god,” Makoto’s voice sighs in relief. “Skull? Can you hear us?”

“Skull?” A leather-clad hand touches his cheek. “Are you with me?”

Ryuji suddenly bolts upright. “Konoe!” The whole world lurching sideways but he ignores the nausea. “Where is he?”

“Gone,” Yusuke replies. He’s looking slightly better than when he last saw him, able to stand on his feet again. “Disappeared, just like the rest of them. In no small part thanks to you.”

“It was more than that,” Haru disagrees. “It was nearly completely thanks to him. Your last battle with him was quite a spectacle.”

“It really was,” Sophia agrees. “You got hit near the end, though.”

“Oh,” he forces a laugh. “My bad. Must’ve worried you guys. Thanks for the heal.”

“‘Thanks for the heal’?”

Any levity that was present gets sucked away as Akira pulls his hand away from him, expression unreadable. “It wasn’t just a heal, Ryuji. It was a Recarm.”

He winces, eyes darting away. “That must’ve been scary for you,” he mutters. “Sorry.”

“I’m not interested in an apology. I’m looking for an explanation.”

“What am I supposed to explain? He caught me off guard, it happens. I might be good, but I’m not getting out of a fight with the creator of the Metaverse Part Two without a scratch.”

“It was a scratch. I’ve seen you take bullets better than that,” Akira says flatly. “The strangest thing about all this is that I think you knew about this. I think you knew what would happen if you got hit, no matter how light it was.”

Do not panic. Do not panic. “Spit it out. What are you trying to say?”

“I think something’s up and you’re hiding something from me.”

“Guys,” Futaba whispers. “Don’t fight.”

Akira turns on her, taking in her expression for a long moment before his eyes widen. “You know about it,” he realizes.

“What?!”

“You knew that he changed, and you didn’t tell me.” His eyes flashed. “Futaba, he could’ve died, and you didn’t say anything.”

“Stop it.” Ann’s voice was low and hard. “Don’t take out what you’re feeling on her.”

Looking away from Futaba, Akira scans each and everyone of their faces, and it dawns on him. “You knew.” Hurt takes up every syllable, heavy but small at the same time. “You all knew, and nobody told me. I can’t believe this.”

“Don’t get mad at them,” Ryuji snaps. There’s no way he’s letting his friends take the fall for his own actions. “You’re getting worried over nothing. I took a hit—that’s it. Bad guy defeated, let’s move on.”

“I’m not moving on if people on my team, people that I thought I could trust are hiding things from me,” he insists. “Especially you. Dammit, Ryuji, I thought I could trust you!”

His stomach doesn’t twist. Instead, a gigantic pair of scissors made up of Akira’s words goes ahead and snips off his stomach from his intestines, and he’s free falling with nowhere to crash land.

“What the fuck else do you want from me?” Everyone but Akira flinches at his words. “I beat Konoe, didn’t I? You were worried about that, you wanted to retreat because you thought I wouldn’t be able to do it, but I did it!”

“What I want from you is to be safe. That’s it.”

“But that shouldn’t be the only thing you want! Don’t you want us to win? Don’t you want us to be able to finish what we started?”

Akira shakes his head, frustrated, and starts rummaging through his pockets.

“What are you doing?”

“We aren’t fighting here.” A Goho-M flashes in his palm, and before anyone can say anything, they blink and suddenly they’re at the entrance of the Jail again. “Everyone, get out.”

Ryuji glares at him as the rest scurries to the entrance as quickly as possible without making it look like they’re making a run for it. Akira stares back.

“...Fine.”

The familiar but unpleasant swirl between the transition of the Jail and the real world takes over them, feeling their cells tear apart from each other before instantly clicking back into place, and then they were at the foot of the Tenboto tower.

Akira’s eyes don’t leave his. “Everyone who isn’t Ryuji, go find something else to do. We need some time to talk.”

Nobody questions it except for Futaba. “Um, do you want me to take—”

He shoves his hand in his pocket and throws his phone at her. Usually, the rose gold shade always makes him crack a smile, but he doesn’t even look at it this time. “Here.”

When she still doesn’t leave, Akira spares her a glance. “What is it?”

“Don’t...don’t be too harsh on him.”

“Don’t push it. I’m still upset that you didn’t say anything about this.”

Futaba’s head falls downwards as she walks away, Sophia in tow.

“So?” Ryuji crosses his arms. “Are we good?”

“No, we are not good, Ryuji. You argued with me over something stupid, spat in my face and deliberately went against with what I knew would be better for all of us, and worse than all of that, you knew that your defense is down by an insane amount.”

“Who cares if it’s down! Get the fuck over it, we already won.”

Akira's jaw goes slack. “Who are you? Why are you acting like this? What’s gotten into your head that you’re trying to pretend that I don’t care about your health and your safety?”

“Because you shouldn’t,” he insists. “You’re slowing the rest of us down by doing this whole hero schtick—if you just focus on what we need to do rather than something like my god damn endurance then things would go so much faster!”

“I don’t give a shit about efficiency, and do you have any idea what it even means for you to have a drastic change in your Persona? Or are you just looking for another stupid thing to argue about?”

He draws back, shame instinctively bubbling at the implication. “No, but it can’t be that damn important for us to be fighting like this.”

“Personas are the strength of the heart,” Akira roughly prods at his chest. “Whatever you’re feeling, whatever you believe in, your Persona would reflect that.”

“Okay? So what?”

A shift overcomes his expression, and Akira closes his eyes. When he speaks, it’s like he’s an ethereal being rather than a boy his age. “You seek power, correct? Since your name has been disgraced already, why not hoist the flag and wreak havoc?”

“The ‘other you’ who exists within desires it thus,” Ryuji finishes, frowning. “Why do you have that memorized?”

“Because I’ve memorized everyone’s awakenings, and because I think that’s the reason why you can’t take a hit anymore but you can throw a punch the way you can,” Akira shoots back. “You awakened your Persona to ‘wreak havoc’ on the people who piss you off, right?”

“Yeah.” His patience is waning thin. “What’s your point?”

“What if that feeling—rage against corrupt adults, your need to wreak havoc on them—what if that gets flipped around and you direct that on yourself?”

“What?” Ryuji shakes his head. “Is that even possible?”

“I can almost guarantee it, because your stats are shuffling like crazy. Your endurance is down, yeah, but do you know what skyrocketed in its place? What nearly tripled?”

“My strength?”

“Exactly. Look, I don’t know what happened, but something has shifted in your heart enough to make you believe that it’s more important to be strong than to keep yourself alive.”

Akira shoves his glasses higher on his nose, and Ryuji swallows when he sees his hand shake. “Tell me. Please. I won’t get mad, or disappointed, or whatever you think I’ll feel if you tell me. I just want you to be honest with me. I want us to work this out.”

It’s the way he says it, like it’s really that simple. Like the two of them can take on any problem together, no matter how big it is, because it’s them. They’re two pieces of a puzzle—they can only ever see the bigger picture when they both click into place. It would be easy, because Akira makes it easy.

A droplet of rain lands hard on his shoulder. He opens his mouth.

“Just because I’m not telling you something, doesn’t it mean gives you the right to hound the fuck out of me until I cave.”

Akira recoils like he’s been slapped in the face. “I just want to understand.”

“And I just want you to leave me alone, okay?” He wipes away the rain from his face only for it to be replaced almost immediately. “You don’t—you just don’t fucking get it, Kurusu. You have no idea what it’s like being a piece of shit, you have no idea what it’s like being a moron, with everyone hating you—”

What? He doesn’t mean that. Of course Akira gets it. That’s how they got to know each other in the first place.

“You don’t know what it’s like to hear so much shit about you wherever you go—”

That’s not true, either. Why is he saying this?

“To have no one even take a look at you, to be a ghost, to not even exist anymore—”

Are you kidding? That’s all Akira lives through in his hometown.

Ryuji levels a gaze at him, chest burning. “You don’t know what it’s like being nothing,” he finishes.

Akira stands there, staring at him, refusing to wipe the rain away from his face. His mouth opens, before closing again, and shakes his head. His movements are jerky and stilted.

When Akira looks up, his eyes are empty. “You don’t know a single thing about me.”

He turns around and walks away without another word, leaving Ryuji to stand alone, drenched in the rain and feeling like gasoline is eating through his chest, and all he can do is burn.

Osaka has bright lights and has the scent of mouth-watering in its every nook and cranny, but the only thing Ryuji can process right now is the squelch of his socks with every step he takes.

He’s only vaguely aware that he’s moving, traversing through Dotonbori in a hazed state. It’s like his consciousness left his body, trapped and distant, the burning in his chest turned into something smoldering, filling his entire being with suffocating smoke.

Ryuji’s spent who knows how long staggering through the streets, unfamiliar sights with unfamiliar people, and none of it has the same excitement that normally comes with them visiting a new place. The rain hasn’t let up, and his t-shirt has long since been soaked through. His body is still crazy sore, with his ankles begging for rest, but the idea of stopping makes him nauseous.

A large body hits his shoulder, and it nearly knocks him sideways. “Watch where you’re going, dumbass.”

“S-sorry,” he manages, but the stranger is already gone by the time he finishes.

Ryuji scrubs his eyes and looks up, surprised that he isn’t horrifically lost. He’s at one of the dual bridges in Dotonbori, a place that he recognizes because he and Ann stuffed their faces with so much takoyaki they could barely breathe afterwards.

His body sags against the bridge’s concrete railing, exhaustion making itself known, forearms pressed in an odd angle that he knows is going to leave weird patterns etched into his skin. In his pocket, his phone buzzes angrily, but he ignores it.

He scrubs his eyes again, harder. He hasn’t cried, which sucks. In fact, he hasn’t even felt the familiar panic build up in him, and he didn’t even know it was possible to miss that feeling. The feeling of something other than the gaping hole inside of him, only getting bigger.

For the first time in his life, he wishes he was angry, just so he can stop feeling this never-ending plane of nothing.

That’s a lie, actually—there’s some anger, too. A lot of it. At himself.

His phone buzzes again, and Ryuji can’t even muster a meager response. I’m fine, don’t worry, is what he’s supposed to say.

Bullshit. All he can ever do is say bullshit, over and over again.

Pressing his forehead against the edge of the concrete, he grits his teeth, staring down at his hands, miserable and desperate for something to take away this gnawing feeling inside of him, eating its way through his gut like an insatiable parasite. He tries focusing on the waves lapping against the stone below him, on the pitter-patter of the rain that’s coating his skin, on the chatter from the people behind him, but he can’t because all he can see behind his eyelids is the hurt in Akira’s face and the crack in his voice when he spoke and it’s Ryuji’s fault because he fucking sucks and he’s incapable of keeping anything good in his life and he’s trying to cry but it’s not coming, why isn’t he crying, please let him get some fucking relief, why can’t he cry—

A shadow casts over him, and he’s about to move out of the way when shoes enter his periphery. Standard sneakers except for colorful beads tied into the shoelaces.

“Yo,” Futaba greets, holding an umbrella over him.

Ryuj tries for a laugh, but it comes out hollow and pathetic. “You track my phone?”

“No.” There’s a pause. “Akira mentioned that you have a thing for bridges.”

His heart goes utterly still, before beating into overdrive. “Leave me alone,” he finds himself saying. “Just fucking get out of here, Futaba.”

“No.”

“No?” It’s sick how fiercely glad he is to be able to grasp onto anger like a lifeline. “I don’t want to be around anyone, don’t you get it? Leave me alone, Jesus, I thought you were supposed to be the smart one in the group.”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

“And why not?”

“Because you didn’t leave me, even when I really, really wanted you to.” The gaze behind her eyes is unreadable. “You dragged me out of my tomb, screaming and kicking, but you didn’t let go.”

His lungs tightened up. “I don’t want to be around anyone right now,” he says weakly.

“Then I’m not here.” Futaba readjusts her grip on the umbrella, careful that he was still covered. She trains her eyes on a random point in the distance, away from him. “No one’s here. I’m just another stranger, and you’re just some guy who’s talking to the rain.”

They stand there for a while, unspeaking. Each passing second lets the aggravation seep out of him, bit by bit.

“Can…” he tries eventually. Maybe he can let it out, just a little bit. Enough to stop the boiling froth from spilling over the pot, maybe the water would stop rising. “Can I ask you a question?”

When she doesn’t answer, he looks down into the black water.

“What’s it like hating yourself?” he asks. “Like, really, really hating yourself. All you want to do is hide, in your room or away from everyone else. You don’t want to die, you don’t want to disappear, either. You just want to...stop. To the point where you don’t even know what you want anymore—do you want to just keep hiding? Do you want to tell everyone, to finally let someone know? To let the one person who fucking matters know what’s happening to you?”

A boat passes underneath them, and he can see a couple drinking together, laughing. “Isn’t it so embarrassing? You failed so fucking much, and you’re only making it worse by hiding it from everyone. You hid it so much, you were so unwilling to let them know, that you actually ran the damn risk of them leaving.”

The last of Ryuji’s resolve, weak as it was already, crumbles. Something inside Ryuji cracks, and his eyes are wide, so wide they might roll out of their sockets. “I couldn’t tell him, Futaba,” he rasps out. “I couldn’t—what if he leaves me? What if I lose the only damn thing that made my life something worth getting out of my room for? What’s going to happen when he realizes I’m nothing more than the kid with the fucked up leg who failed high school?”

Futaba continues to listen in silence, unable to hold back the streams of hot tears running down her cheeks.

“He loves me,” he says this with an unshakeable force, an unforeseen barrier unwilling to be broken down by anything. “I know that for a fact. But—” he sucks in a breath, and before he can stop himself, he leans his body over the bridge.

“I’m so fucking selfish!” he yells. “I can’t! I can’t tell him! I can’t face another failure, I can’t do it, it’s going to kill me, I swear to god. I failed myself, I failed all of you,” he wildly gestures at her. “I failed my mom, but I can’t fail him. Not him, anyone but him.”

“Sir Sakamoto Ryuji.”

He turns his head to her with a crumpled expression, and she wipes her face with her sleeve before grabbing his hand, pulling him away from the bridge. Ryuji is too surprised to resist. ”W-what?”

She doesn’t turn back, and despite her hoarse voice, her words don’t shake. “I will not let you continue your great sin of wrath unto yourself. You cannot,” she tugs harder, and he stumbles forward. “You cannot keep yourself in this, this darkness of hatred and anger, and thus I, Sakura Futaba, a member of the Phantom Thieves, have decided to intervene.”

“Was—” It took a lot of effort, but he composed himself enough to keep up with her short legs. “Was that a calling card?”

“You’re damn right it is, with or without the fancy paper.” Futaba glances back, and her eyes are shining and determined. “I wasn’t ready at all when you guys showed up in my room to take my heart, but good thing you did, because that was exactly what I needed. So here I am dragging you out, kicking and all. You’re going to tell Akira—”

“I can’t,” he pleads, weakly crossing the street when she keeps pulling. “Dude, I just told you why I absolutely cannot.”

“You’re going to, and that’s final.”

“No!”

And to his absolute shock, she stops in the middle of the road, expression defiant. Cars honk and flip them off, but it does nothing to deter her.

“Get out of the way!” he screams, roughly pulling at her, but Futaba doesn’t budge. “Get off the road!”

“Welcome to my ultimatum: I’m not moving until you go to him!” she points directly at him, ignoring the way headlights flash over her and puddles splash on her shorts. “You say he loves you? Cool, now prove to him that you love him.”

Ryuji rolls up his sleeves. “I’m going to carry you off of the street, you gremlin.”

“Try me, because I’m going to scream so loud,” she says seriously, and he knows she is.

“You’re insane!” he yells back, because she is.

“And you’re a moron, and it’s not because you couldn’t do academic whatnot!” Her glare is hot steel and he’s nothing more than a warm stick of butter. “He’s known you since day one, has seen you at bedrock level, and he’s still following you around like you’re some kind of queen bee and he’s the hive. You’re going to talk to him, or I swear on my mom’s grave that I’m going to jump in front of a big truck and you’re gonna have to be the one to explain to everyone why I died.”

Screw it. He rushes forward, picks her up and, because she’s never been one to back down in anything, she screams from the top of her lungs until he eventually sets her down on the other side of the road.

“Hey!” she stomps her foot. “That’s cheating!”

“Are you out of your damn mind?”

“No more than you, you clown!” she yells. “Why don’t you want to tell him?!”

“I already told you why!”

“Then what if he felt the same? What if this happened to him, and he kept it from you this entire time?”

The thought is enough to make him feel uneasy. “He doesn’t feel the same.”

“But what if he did?” Futaba insists.

“Then of course I’d want to know,” he answers before he can stop himself, and quickly adds, “But he doesn’t.”

“If he was, though, then you—” she prods his chest. “Are hurting him. You’re hurting him, and I thought you loved him, and I thought you didn’t want to disappoint him. You’re a gigantic hypocrite, and screw being a bad boyfriend,” she spits the word as if eager to rid it off her tongue. “You’re being a really freaking bad best friend.”

They stare each other down, with Futaba breathing hard and him, completely unseeing.

“You’re right.”

“I’m always right,” she says immediately. “But elaborate.”

“I’m being a really, really bad best friend.” His fingers make their way to the root of his hair and starts pulling. “I made this entire thing about me, and my problems.”

“To be fair, they were pretty big problems.”

“Yeah but...holy shit, I completely—I completely forgot that this trip is about Akira and to make sure that he’s smiling, and happy, and stress-free and—I fucked all of that to hell.”

“You did,” she agrees, relentless. “Totally screwed the pooch, but hey, you know what? There’s a big plus sign to all of this:” Futaba throws up jazz hands weakly. “You can still fix this!”

“I can still fix this…” he repeats, in a daze, and he slaps his face with both hands. “I can still fix this, dammit! This isn’t going to be another failure; I’m going to take this,” he wildy gesticulates around himself. “And shred it down so Akira doesn’t have to worry anymore. I’ll talk to him, he’ll understand, and we’re going to have a fan-fucking-tastic rest of the summer vacation, even if my life is horrible and falling apart.”

She nods enthusiastically. “But we can all fix it together once we get back home. One step at a time. First,” she levels him with a look. “You’re going to talk to Akira.”

“I have to. He’s had my back since day one, and I promise I’d do anything for him.” Even if it means showing himself, every ugly part of himself, to the most amazing person that’s ever walked on planet earth. The panic twitches inside of him, coming alive again, but he doesn’t push it away. He lets that feeling wash over him, that adrenaline, and he starts jumping on his feet. “I’m going to talk to Akira,” he announces, looking around to see any place that Akira’s eye might catch. “I need to find him, ASAP.”

“Say no more.” She pulls up her phone. “This won’t take more than two minutes.”

Glancing around wildly, something catches his attention, and he grins. “No need. I know exactly where he is.”

“You do?” A hard slap lands on his back, pushing him forward with a yelp. “Then go! Run to him! Get out of your tomb, Ryuji! I’ll see you on the other side!”

He takes a few steps forward, before turning around and quickly taking Futaba in a hug. “Love you, shorty,” he says seriously.

“I love you too.” She hugs him back tightly before letting go. “Get out of here before you find a new insecurity to change your mind.”

Ryuji opts to ignore that last bit and sets off, sneakers slapping the wet concrete as he runs, Tenboto Tower already in his sights.

“Akira!”

Everyone jumps as he slams the glass entrance open, loud and unyielding as he runs past tourists, wildly taking in each of their faces and pausing at none of them. He sucks at everything—at school, at being a good friend, at basic communication. But this? Facing public humiliation in front of strangers?

“Akira!”

He can do this any day of the week.

Nervous employees start to approach him and Ryuji books it before they can get close. Not on the ground floor, but he knew that before he even came in here. Elevator, he thinks, skidding to a halt to see that it’s already six floors up. It would take too long.

Letting out a sharp breath, he lets his feet take him to the stairwell, apathetic to the fact that he’s about to sprint up eighty-eight meters.

He’s an idiot. A moron. World’s biggest buffoon. That doesn’t surprise anyone, least of all him.

The soles of his sneakers squeak as it slaps against concrete stairs, using the railing to propel him up faster.

And he hates it. He fucking hates being the dumb one so much that it hurts.

A couple that was making out screams when he barely dodges them, and he doesn’t even have it in him to be embarrassed.

He wants nothing more than to bury that part of him. Shamefully, completely. Like a corpse, or some ancient artifact. Gone for the rest of time.

Sweat streams down his back and it’s gross and he doesn’t care, not one damn bit.

But if burying it means destroying what he built with Akira? If scrambling to hide actually makes things worse when the only thing he wanted was to preserve what the two of them have?

His throat is drying up and he can feel his thighs about to split in half, but he keeps going, keeps running.

Then screw it—the whole world is about to know what a big failure he is.

Ryuji bursts through the door to the top deck, gasping for breath and dozens of heads turn to him. Gulping down as much air as his lungs can take in, “Akira!?” he booms, and he knows he’s being an asshole but he doesn’t care right now.

Nothing happens. He grits his teeth and starts running again, soaked shoes ruining plush carpet as he looks for a familiar patch of messy hair. Ryuji evades tourists left and right, around gift shop stalls and hundred yen telescopes, ignoring the picturesque view from the huge glass windows. Just like he thought—from up here, it looks eerily like you were overlooking the entire city of Tokyo if you were desperate for any sense of familiarity.

And that’s exactly what Akira had needed at the time.

Come on, come on. He’s about to hit a full circle around the observation deck and he still hasn’t spotted him. I know you’re here. There’s no way that you’d be anywhere else in the city.

Ryuji takes in another breath, ready to yell out his name for the upteenth time, when he sees an open balcony, nearly empty except for a boy leaned over the parapet, eerily still and barely underneath the glass covering above him.

Despite his earlier fervor, Ryuji slows down to a walking pace, chest heaving and feeling like his heart is going to burst.

It’ll be okay. It’s him.

He takes his place beside him, mimicking his pose, leaning over the cool metal railings. Akira doesn’t even look up, which is what he deserves, really. The wind is light, and the city sparkles below them.

No games. No bullshit. Just him and his best friend.

“I failed second-year,” he says. “And also I think I’m at a real, real low point in my life.”

Akira’s face flits in mild surprise, but Ryuji doesn’t stop, doesn’t want to give himself an out.

He starts from the very beginning—from getting called into his homeroom, to Ushimaru giving him a look that said he expected this because that’s ‘just the type of student he is’, to hiding it from his mom, from Ann, from him. He tells him how being alone is tiring, but being with people is exhausting.

And the tears. The minute he started talking, the tears came and kept coming no matter how many times he wiped it away. At first he thought it was from humiliation, at the guilt from keeping it from Akira. But after a while, he realizes that keeping this huge, weighty, life-altering secret from Akira was hurting him, too. It’s like the entire sky got lifted off of him, and he can finally breathe again. For the first time, he feels relieved.

Akira stands there, silent the entire time, not looking at him but he knows he’s soaking in every word that he’s saying.

Ryuji stands up straight and faces him. His voice is barely above a whisper, used up and crackled like dried out stone. “Akira, I’m so, so sorry. I said horrible shit and I kept you in the dark for so long, and-and I forced everyone not to say anything because of my own issues, and I could’ve—” he flinches when he remembers feeling his life deplete out of him from a single hit. “I could’ve died, dude. And I kept it from you over something so petty like being bad at algebra. I know I shouldn’t have kept it from you. I know that now, and hindsight is a bit of a bastard.” He looks down, sees people from below, small as ants. “There’s no good excuse, I get that. It’s just...I was fucking terrified, dude. Of whatever you see in me fading away once you see me for what I actually am.”

Ruffling his own hair, he lets out a long breath. “Alright. I’m done. It’s your turn, if you want it.”

“Is that really how you feel?” Akira asks, emotionless.

“With my entire body.”

His feelings are twisted together between shock that he actually did it, and earth-shattering fear that something bad might happen. No, Akira would never in a million years openly mock him, but he can easily imagine a small, faint smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. An it’s okay. I get it. A shallow hug and a kiss on the cheek. An obligatory comfort that Akira feels he has to give but Ryuji never wanted.

But what he didn’t expect was for Akira to suddenly start laughing.

Ryuji stares in shock as his shoulders, always straight back, hunches in on itself, shaking uncontrollably, hands instinctively flitting to his mouth but unable to hold in the snort that escapes through his lips.

“Uh,” he asks, confused. “What?”

“I—” Akira tries, but doubles over, gripping the metal railing. “Give me a second, sorry—”

They stand there for a few long minutes, Ryuji bewildered and Akira laughing harder than he’s ever seen him. Whenever he looks like he’s about to finish, Akira gives him a look, and starts laughing uncontrollably again.

Eventually, he sobers up enough to resume his earlier position. “Ryuji,” the smile is still stuck on his lips. “I love you.”

“...Okay?” he replies, still lost.

“And I’ve been in therapy since April.”

The entire world halts to a grinding, screeching halt.

“You’re—” Ryuji fumbles. “You’ve been in what?”

“Therapy.”

“Why?!” When Akira raises an eyebrow at him, he backtracks a little. “Okay, I didn’t mean to say it like that. It’s just...surprising.”

He can’t even imagine what kind of metaphor he’d have to use to begin explaining the complexities of a Persona and Palaces. “Is it tough trying to explain all of this?”

“It’s not about the Metaverse or anything,” he says, and, with the slight mirth still stuck on his features, “It’s because I’ve been depressed for a few months now.”

About a trillion questions want to fly out of his mouth right now, but he settles on one for now. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Akira looks up, staring at the few specks of stars that still poke out despite the light pollution of any big city in Japan. “I just think,” he starts. “That I’m really, really lonely.”

Before Ryuji can say anything, he cuts him off with a look. “Please don’t blame yourself.”

“I won’t.”

“Good,” he says, relaxing. “Because it’s not your fault, or anyone else’s. I’ve just…It’s been hard, going back to that life after living such a good one in Tokyo. When I finally came back home, it’s like I was stuck in a time loop. Every day that I stay there,” he stares down at his hands. “Is another day that everyone’s moving on without me.”

Ryuji nearly bites his tongue off in an effort to hold himself back. Move on? Without Akira? Not a snowflake’s chance in hell.

“It didn’t help that no one would even look me in the eye there,” he continues. “It got to the point where the days just blended together, the same cycle of nothing, the same day of being alone, over and over again. Worrying about being forgotten, being trapped and stuck.” Akira’s pale cheeks turn red. “Eventually, my grades started dropping,” he admits. “My parents noticed, because of course they did, and…”

Akira curls his fingers around the bar. “They threatened that they wouldn’t let me go if it stayed down.”

“Son of a bitch,” he hisses, unable to help himself. “What the hell, man?”

“I know,” he agrees. “Bad move on their part, considering that it got even worse after they said that. It’s...it’s actually why I’m getting tutoring now. Not necessarily for Tokyo U, but I really do plan on going to a Tokyo-based university. Because if I don’t…” he trails off.

“I am the only person in the world who isn’t allowed to say this, but,” Ryuji shakes his head. “Why didn’t you say anything, Akira? I could’ve visited you more, or had more phone calls, or, I don’t know. Something to help.” To help you the way you helped me.

“Good question,” he muses, slightly amused. “Alright. Imagine this. You’re a new kid in town with a criminal record. Everyone hates you, more than they usually do, and you were starting to accept that your life is just going to be like this. But suddenly, a guy comes barreling into your life.” Akira’s expression softens. “He’s loud, tough, and extremely cute, and next thing you know, he became your best friend. You don’t know what he sees in you, you don’t know what you did to make him approach you in the first place, but the only thing you know for sure—”

“Is that you’re never letting him go,” Ryuji finishes for him. “Even if it means hiding yourself away, yeah?”

Ryuji’s gazing down at the city beneath them, unseeing. He can’t react the way he wants to, but what the fuck.

Akira is the best person he’s ever met and he’s pretty sure at least twenty other people scattered around the streets of Tokyo would agree with him on that. Yet he hid such a massive secret from Ryuji because he thought that Ryuji would leave him? That’s beyond ridiculous. That’s messed up, that’s—

Ryuji looks up to see that Akira’s already looking back at him, a knowing look in his eyes.

“Yup,” Akira tries to pull it off like he was scratching his cheek, but the shine of the tear makes it obvious. “You got me.”

Finally, Ryuji cracks.

“I’m—” he chokes, wracked with grief. “I’m so fucking sorry. I am so, so sorry, you were going through so much and I didn’t even—”

Akira takes a step back, shocked. “Why are you the one apologizing? I’m the one who was too busy wallowing to notice that you had changed enough that your Persona—”

“Because you’re depressed, and I should’ve been there to help you!”

“And I said that it was never your fault!”

“That doesn’t matter, I should’ve helped you go through that, wait outside the clinic with you, I don’t know!”

“And I made you think that I would have left you if you failed high school, which is insane—!”

“Kurusu, I lied to you. I lied to your face, I said so much shit, I jeopardized the entire team all because I didn’t want to lose you—”

“Don’t,” he pleads. “I know why you did it, but me? I don’t have an excuse. I’m your leader—”

“I’m your partner—”

“I’m your best friend—”

“And I didn’t notice!” they both finish in unison, distraught and breaths heaving, hearts pounding in time with each other, always together.

And then they both laugh; it’s teary, wet, and they probably look insane to any tourist ten feet from them, but they’re cracking up because it’s hilarious. It’s absolutely hysterical that either of them ever believed that they would leave the other over something so stupid as their own perception of themselves.

Ryuji sobers up first, grin so wide that it’s hurting his cheeks. “Can I apologize one last time?”

“No,” he says, voice tender. “I’ve heard enough sorrys to last a lifetime.”

“Come on! Just one more!”

“Just one more,” he relents.

He throws his arm around Akira, squeezing him tight against his side. “I’m sorry that I’m apparently the most good-looking guy you’ve ever seen that you instantly fell in love with me.”

“Dammit,” Akira tries shoving him off weakly. “I knew you were gonna use that against me.”

“Damn right.” He kisses his forehead, gentle despite the rough grip.

“Can I apologize too?”

“Copycat. You can apologize once.”

“Okay.” Hugging Ryuji’s torso, they’re close enough that neither can feel the chill of the wind. “I’m sorry this happened to us,” he says seriously.

Pulling back, Ryuji frowns. “Dude!”

“I know, I know, what a downer. But it’s true.”

“It’s true,” he agrees. “But we can work on this. Together, this time. Like a couple of smart, capable people.”

“That sounds fantastic,” Akira murmurs before leaning forward and catching his lips. He tastes like rainwater and heat. He can feel his own lips twitch into a smile, and the vibration of Akira’s chuckle against his throat. It’s familiar, memorized, but he still makes sure to relearn it every time.

They kiss so deep that the hole inside Ryuji’s chest is full enough to burst.

“Kaboom!” Futaba had said.

The booming sound of a firework rings from up top, illuminating their faces in bright colors in the night. It reflects shades of red, yellow, blue and pink all over the surface of the water like paint buckets that got toppled over in a kindergarten classroom.

Ryuji’s chin is tilted up, watching them explode and take over his entire view of the sky. It’s almost blinding, but he can’t peel his eyes away from them even when he can feel them drying up.

It’s the last day of summer—his worst nightmare.

A purple one sparkles, the sound of the explosion delayed by half a second. He leans his head against Akira’s shoulder, lip quirking up when he feels weight pressing against the crown of his skull.

It’s the last day of summer, but he can’t feel anything but the warmth at his side, fingers intertwined with his, the ringing in his ears. Everything feels more real than they had in the last few months, the haze shifting away, the fog thinning out.

His heart beats strong in his chest. A hand squeezes his tightly.

Kaboom.

The sweat on the back of Ryuji’s neck is thick as he climbs the stairs into the attic of Leblanc, the heat just as intense as it was this time last year.

Stray beams of light poured in from the open window of what has turned into a study cave for any of the thieves to use—cram books of trigonometry to art theory lined the shelves, the walls lined with study good luck charms that they had hoarded from any shrines that they had visited, and day-old tea cups and coffee mugs littered the desks.

Amidst all of that sat Akira, elbows propped up on the table, expression serious. “Happy last day of school,” he says, voice monotone, staring at the thick, impressive envelope in front of him.

“‘Happy’ my ass,” Ryuji flops down on the seat next to him, wood creaking under the sudden weight, nodding at the parchment. “Is that it?”

“If it isn’t, it’s going to be one insane train ride back home to get it.”

“I don’t know how you did it, man. I would’ve torn that thing open the minute I got it.”

Akira gives him an alarmed look. “You didn’t—”

He puts his hands up in surrender, holding a much thinner, yet somehow just as weighty sealed envelope between his fingers before throwing it down with the other. “I didn’t.”

“Good.” Akira doesn’t quite relax, but he lets out a breath. “So.”

“So,” he repeats, a little wobbly. “Moment of truth, huh? Either you got into school…”

“And you passed second-year.”

“Or we don’t.”

The silence that follows is heavy, contemplative, coating the air with something thick and hard to swallow.

Ryuji slams his hand on the table, gut twisting and knotting tightly. “Let’s fucking do this.”

They both reach forward to their corresponding envelopes, hands shaking but neither comment on it. Akira opens his first, and Ryuji very nearly bites it open just to get it over with. He’s suddenly glad that he’s sitting for this. His knees would’ve given out for sure.

Eventually, he finally gets it out of the envelope. His vision blurs as he starts scanning through the letter, eyes flitting all over the page looking for a few choice words, and his breathing stops cold.

He raises his head in time with Akira, and their eyes are wide. A wind chime clinks somewhere behind them.

“I got in,” Akira whispers.

“I passed,” Ryuji whispers back.

They stare at each other for a moment, before they explode.

Immediately, Ryuji jumps out of his chair and lifts Akira clean off his seat. “You got in!” he cries, and he’s not even embarrassed at the horrendous crack in his voice. “You bastard, I knew you could do it!”

“You passed,” Akira throws his arms around his neck and clings, so tight he can barely breathe. “I knew it, I could feel it, I knew you had it!”

Ryuji grasps the back of his hair, still spinning. “I’m so happy for you, I’m so happy for you,” he chants, his entire body feeling weak with relief and unencumbered joy but he knows he’d never drop him. “You fucking did it.”

“And you fucking did it!” He starts planting kisses on his head, his cheek, his shoulder, wherever he can reach. “You worked so hard, and you—” another kiss, this time right on his eyelid. “You did it, and I am so, so, so proud of you.”

With whatever last strength Ryuji has, he spins double-time, yelling at the top of his lungs: “Tokyo University, baby!”

“Third-year!” Akira tries, voice barely above his normal volume. “Third-year!”

He sets him down, and the grin on his face is wider than it’s ever been. Ryuji feels like he can eat the entirety of Yongen in one try. “You are—” he holds Akira’s face between both of his hands, face inches from his. “The smartest person on the entire fucking planet.”

“And you—” his eyes are bright, so bright. “Need to call your mom.”

“Shoot!” Ryuji slaps his forehead. “Totally slipped by me. Uh, I’ll—”

“Bathroom works, and Soijro locked up the cafe for us.”

“Boss is the best. I’ll be back,” he turns, headed for the stairs.

“Wait.”

Ryuji looks back only for a hand to hold his nape, pulling him forward. Akira kisses him, still smiling. When they pull away, he says, in a crystal clear voice, “I love you, I love you, and I’m proud of you.”

He could barely reply past the lump in his throat, wanting nothing more than to bury himself in that sentence. “I love you,” he manages. “Don’t go anywhere, okay? I want to keep talking to you.”

“Of course,” Akira says, and Ryuji slips out of his grasp before he can do something stupid, like cry. Again.

Cracking the door open to the tiny powder room of Leblanc, he leans against the wall and catches his expression in the mirror—grinning and flushed with pleasure. It’s a good look.

He hits the speed dial on his phone, and his mom picks up almost immediately. “Did you get the letter?” she rushes out. “Whatever happens, you’re still the best son I could ever ask for, you hear me?”

“Ma,” the reflection’s grin grows impossibly wider. “I passed.”

The screaming from the receiver is loud enough that he had to pull it away from himself, wincing but laughing at her reaction. “I knew it!” her voice sounds years younger. “I knew you could do it!”

The wall is cool behind him, and he shoves his hand in his pocket, embarrassed. “Thanks, ma.”

“Of course, Ryu! Are you happy?”

“Am I happy?” he blinks. “Well, yeah, of course.”

“That’s all I ever wanted,” a noise that sounds suspiciously like a sniffle sounds through. “You could’ve stopped going to school entirely and as long as it made you happy, I’d go along with it.”

Air catches in his throat, awe-struck. He knew how she felt, but having her tell him at face value is something else entirely.

Ryuji’s about to answer when a cascade of voices and footsteps suddenly flow into the cafe, just outside the powder room.

“Akira,” Makoto says gently, audible through thin walls. “Did…?”

He doesn’t catch a reply, but screams and cheers fill up the cafe, dust falling from the ceiling as people start jumping up and down.

“I can hear your friends celebrating from here,” his mom chuckles. “I’ll let you go. Let’s get dinner when you get home, okay?”

“That sounds great,” he says, coughing, brushing the flecks of dried wood off his shoulder. “I’ll see you when I get home.”

He hangs up, sighing happily. After mentally preparing himself, he throws the door open, doorknob slamming against the wall that he prays didn’t leave a dent.

“Is that him?” Haru’s voice flows from above.

“That’s him,” Akira confirms.

Ryuji takes the steps two at a time, welcomed by the sight of everyone clinging to Akira with overjoyed expressions, and they quiet down when they see him.

Ann takes a step forward, gently letting go of Akira’s shoulder. “So?”

He takes a deep breath, makes a big show of kicking the floor boards, before looking up.

“Yeah, I did it.”

An eruption of pure noise goes straight into his eardrums as he’s tackled by arms and bodies, knocking him to the ground. Everyone’s yelling, some are crying, and he can understand exactly zero of what they’re saying but he hugs back as best he can. Through the cracks of shoulders and hair and necks, he can see Akira watching them all in amusement.

With no small amount of struggling, Ryuji wriggles a hand free and extends it to him. Akira doesn’t hesitate to take it, but yelps as he proceeds to get tugged right into the middle of the pile, crashing into three other people and loving every second of it.

Delusion is a real funny thing in hindsight. How could he have ever thought that he had nothing to be proud of? That his list of accomplishments added up to exactly nothing?

Yusuke is reciting victory speeches from wars won long ago while Makoto is listing off scholarships he can apply for in his third-year. Futaba is repeatedly hitting his shoulder, shrieking in his ear while Haru is quietly telling him how proud she is of him. Ann’s already pulling Shiho on speakerphone, and Akira has a look in his eye, a fondness that tells Ryuji that there’s nowhere else he’d rather be.

The room is full, and the sun is still streaming through, warm and inviting. He wishes that Ryuji from a year ago could see this, see his friends that are still by his side, that will always be by his side, and rest easy.

[my-own-oracle]

Forced to Sleep

@voidfire-studios was the lovely human who sent in this request and I am more then happy to re-uploaded this one!

-Optimus

You recheck your notes, rubbing your strained eyes. In theory, you could calculate the travel times and positions of encounters to help triangulate where the Decepticon ship was located last.  In reality, It took about 10 hours to work all the calculations and collect the data, yet you were no closer to discovering anything. 

Your body was tired, your head was pounding. But you couldn't give up, no human or cybertronian had believed you could do this. So by the laws of stubbornness, you had to complete this with a rough location for the bots to check. 

You squeezed your eyes shut, trying your hardest to will the headache to disappear until you complete your task. 

"(Y/N), what are you doing awake at this hour?" Optimus had snuck in while you were focused on your work, how the metal titan had managed to do so, you had no earthly idea, but at this point, you didn't question the Leader of the Autobots and his ability to enter a room undetected. 

"I'm going to get this for you guys," You gestured to the maps on the table. "When it's done all stop. But having this could be useful." You felt the room shake as Optimus walked over to your spot. Lowering himself to your eye level. 

"I commend your dedication, but this war is not more important than your health. You may not be as young as the children, but it can not be good for your human body to neglect your natural need to recharge." Optimus placed a single digit down over your maps, covering all the work you had laid out. 

"I am fine." you swatted at his digit, but it did nothing. "I'm going to contribute to this team." Optimus let out a sigh. His other servo reaching out to scoop you up.

"If you want to be a part of this team, I will have to treat you like a soldier." You squirmed as Optimus carried you to the old human barracks in the base. "And as your 'leader' I'm telling you to recharge. Once you have reached adequate rest for your organic frame, you may continue with your work." Optimus deposited you at the barracks door. "It is 4 in the morning now, I do not want to see you until 10 in the morning at the earliest." You turned to try and stare down the bot, but Optimus stood tall looking down at you with a small frustrated smile. 

"Fine. Boss bot. You win." you trudged into the room collapsing on the bed you've borrowed whenever you stay the night. 

"Rest well, (Y/N)" His voice carried through the thick walls in the base. Moments later, you were asleep.

-Starscream

Your fists were in your hair, a guttural growl tearing through your throat. If it weren't for Starscream working only a few feet away, you knew a scream of curse words would be leaving your lips. 

"You miserable worm, will you knock it off? You're breaking my concentration." The seeker's voice broke through your angered thoughts. He was working on a delicate project, and you knew it, but the usual teasing banter isn't hitting home today. You huff, trying to calm down.

"Sorry, sorry." you stood from your work table, your feet carrying you back and forth, pacing its length. 

You had been working on this project for days, but it kept failing in the most spectacular of ways. Blowing up, short-circuiting, even electrocuting you a few times. Your mind was close to mental and emotional exhaustion. You knew screamer needed a more successful way to gather energon, and since the ship you two were hiding in was half destroyed, it left you with amply cybertronian tech to play with. You figured your little organic brain full of wondrous ideas could come up with a more reliable way to track the stuff and keep Starscream from having to break into the Nemesis to get fuel. What you didn't think about was the fact you had little to no understanding of the technology and its more delicate nuances. 

"By the Allspark, stop stomping around like a sparkling." You turned and glared at the seeker, folding your arms in a defiant stance before pacing again. This time you let our heavy combat boots stomp against the floor of the ship, your steps echoing off the walls. In an instant you were scooped up, Starscream let his digits lightly press into your flessy exterior. 

"If it weren't for the fact you bring me the slightest amount of amusement I'd squish you."

"Aww, I love you too, you overgrown pidgin. Now put me down, I have work to do." Rolling his optics Starscream carried you to the room you shared, depositing you not so gently on the table you claimed as your living space. 

"Clearly your stressed and delirious, otherwise you'd have more respect when talking to someone who could kill you with a single servo." The smile on Starscream's face gave away his amusement even though his words seamed harsh. "Sleep, I'll come to retrieve you once I think you're capable of understanding your place when in my presence."

"No, I'm going to finish that fragging tracker."

"You will, once you let that pitiful brain of yours rest." He closed the door, locking you inside. You knew it was his own weird way of making sure you stayed and slept. Gosh, when did your life become so strange? You laid down, telling yourself you'd sleep only out of spite. Then when you woke up, you'd finish that stupid tracker showing him and make him eat his words about your 'pitiful brain.' After all, that's what friends do. 

-Ratchet

Your eyes snapped open, and you rip your head away from the table. You couldn't sleep, not yet. Adjusting your seat and the work laid around you, you attempt to continue at the point you last remember. You can't recall anything after you let the computer run the second set of calculations. Pulling over the laptop, you see that the system had fallen asleep due to no outside activity, stalling the calculations. 

"Kill me," you mumbled into the quite of the base.

"That would be quite inconvenient and hard to explain if your government finds out." You nearly jumped out of your skin, you forgot that Ratchet had been in the room when you started the project. The bot was hunched over his own work station, his optics furrowed despite his lite tone. 

"How's it going, doc?" the glare you received wasn't cold, mostly a playful warning on the use of the forbidden nickname. you smiled tiredly at him. 

"Not well, there's a reason synthetic energon was considered a lost secret of the ancient-" A yawn escaped you, the noise cutting off Ratchets explanation. When your eyes had opened, you could see Ratchet looking to his medical scanner. His dermas moving as he silently read what was on the screen. Crossing the space between your two workspaces, Ratchet leaned down, scooping you out of the chair. 

"Hey, no manhandling." you were brought up to his optics. 

"Your body has reached a point of medically being sleep deprived, that with the imbalance of hormones indicates you need to rest." His voice was soft and soothing. Something he never did unless he felt medically inclined to. 

"You scanned me." the statement felt less accusatory then you wanted, but it was all your brain could come up with. 

"Yes, that was fairly obvious." 

"Don’t do that, it's rude."

"Hardly, as CMO it's my job to make sure all members of team prime are in top form. That includes you." 

"And wouldn't that mean you have to be in top form, Mr. I-only-sleep-when-someone-drags-my-sorry-aft-to-my-birth?" You almost laughed as you watched the gears turn in Ratchets head. That's right metal man, I ain't going to sleep till you do.

Your thoughts must have played across your face because before you could blink Ratchet began transforming around you.

"Then we'll both take some time to rest." Ratchets voice filled his cab as the doors around you locked closed. You pulled on the door handles, but Ratchet wouldn't open up. 

"Let me out, I have work,"

"And so do I, but I know that look. You're not going to rest unless I force you." Warm air began filtering into the cab, and you found it hard to keep your eyes open. Before long you were sprawled out across Ratchet's seats off in a land of dreams. 

[beclynn-herondale]

Heyy can I PLEASE request a Celine and Jace fic? With some clace? Please? *puppy doe eyes* 🥺

Yup, I want to write stuff for them so bad, and you gave me an excuse to do it 😉

Jace and Clary were on a mission together and they stepped through a doorway that took them to a space between worlds Jace supposed, all he knew for sure was that they weren't in their world anymore. Clary was drawing something out, trying to figure out what happened and hoping she could get them out of here.

"I don't know what happened, this is so weird," Clary said with frustrating.

"well hopefully the gang will figure out we are missing, unless this is the kinda place where time doesn't pass back home, and even though it could be weeks for us it could just be a couple hours for them, and–"

"honey your spiraling," Clary interrupted.

"oh," Jace let out.

"Maybe I can figure out some rune to help us out, so Angel now would be great!" Clary said

Jace was starting to realize he was actually anxious, he didn't know why, he was usually pretty calm in these situations, and besides they'd been to hell twice so why was this making him so anxious? Maybe because Magnus wasn't here, Magnus always fix everything and they really owe him for it.

He looked over at Clary who had some paper and a piece of charcoal out, she always carried those two items with her, it was something that made him love her even more, she seemed to be concentrated on a rune, but by the look of her face she isn't having much luck.

"honey," Clary said at Jace

"yes, Clar-bear?"

"what if we don't figure out a way out of here?" Clary said with a worried look

"we will my love, I promise," Jace said reassuringly

"I hope so cause there's something I need to tell you when we get back," Clary told him

"oh, what's that?"

"well if I told you then it wouldn't be a surprise," she teased

"ah, I see," he said with amusement

They decided to explore a little while Clary was waiting for a rune or something to come

It looked like some kind of house or manor that they were in, they were walking around when they heard a faint sound of a piano coming from a room, Jace being in love with piano music was drawn to it, it also felt so welcoming.

Jace found the room where the music was coming from and saw there was a girl with honey blonde hair playing the piano, she seemed vary concentrated on it and consumed into her playing, she also had brown-tan skin like Jace did himself, and in am odd way she seemed so familiar and unfamiliar at the same time.

"I've been waiting to finally meet you, Jace," the woman said

And Jace jumped, rare for him, he must have just zoned out a little

"wh who are you?" He said with anxiety plain in his voice and he cursed himself, "and how do you know who I am?"

"a mother always knows who her child is," she answered, "and I have heard much about you from Robert," she said

"Robert?" Clary said from the doorway, looking very pale

"yes, I know this is weird and strange, but you two crossed between the dead and the living, you will have to go back to the living side soon," she said

"oh, and I am, Celine, by the way, your mother Jace," she said, "I know this is a lot and you don't have to say anything, I just want you to know," Celine finished

"my– my mom?," Jace said with a mix of feelings in his voice

"your Celine Herondale?" Clary asked

"yes, I am, and you are Clary Fairchild, the girl who has loved and taken care of my precious boy, and who is very skilled and saved the shadow world," Celine said with a smile that said thank you, thank you, thank you.

"I– I don't know what to say, but thank you," Clary said back

"and Jace, I want you to know, it was never my intention to leave you, I wanted to give you all the love I never got as a child from my parents, I wanted you to know nothing but love and goodness, but when Valentine did what he did my last thought was that I would never get to meet this angel I had been waiting for for 8 months already. I did nothing but impatiently wait for you to come, I had so many things I wanted to tell you and teach you, and the last thing I wanted was for you to have to have a similar childhood that I did," Celine said with her voice breaking and tears running down her face. "Your father wanted you to be loved and taken care of as well, he had mixed feelings about you at first but after a couple months of me being pregnant, he started talking to you, and even though I know he never loved me in the way I wanted him to, that we both shared the love for this little human inside me," Celine said.

"I'm sorry, this is too much for you, and I am just rambling on," she said anxiously

"no," Jace said as he sat down on the floor, Clary doing the same beside him, "keep telling me," he said. As hard as it was knowing he would never have the chance to actually meet his parents and he still wasn't sure if he wanted to, but there was something about her voice that put him at ease.

"well, I know that you have had it hard and if I could take it away I would, I would take it all, but I can't, and you are who you are, but the person you are is so amazing and so worth it, I am so proud of you and I love you so much my sunshine," Celine said as more tears started streaming down her face.

And Jace noticed something wet dripping onto his hand and realized he was crying too, it was strange for him but he let himself cry, Clary was so silent and he was wondering why.

"Celine, I want you to know that I will take care of Jace always, I will love him and I will remind him everyday that he is loved and worth it, I will make sure he is safe, and make sure he will know nothing but love the rest of his life," Clary said

And Jace start crying more, he loved Clary so much it hurt and she made him more love them she knew.

"thank you Clary, you are so lovely and I wish I could know you, I wish I could be there but I can't, and the can'ts and what ifs in life hurt the most," Celine said with so much regret and pain in her voice that Jace felt a lump in his throat

"but I know my son is in good hands with you and the Lightwoods, I wish I could tell Maryse thank you as well for raising my boy, but I don't think she liked me much and I think she may already know in a way," said Celine

"I think Maryse liked you," said Jace, "whenever she does mention you on the rare occasion, she talks about with a look in her that says respect, maybe respect as a fellow good Shadowhunter but that's still something," Jace finished

"thank you for reassuring me, my love," Celine said to Jace.

Jace felt warmth at her saying that, a mother's love he would never fully know, he thought about the little boy who shut his true self away to please a parent who would never be pleased and how he would have loved this woman as his parent and he would have been a sun in her life

"also, I want you to know that me and Clary have started a program for Shadowhunters with mental health issues and we hope that it will help many, part of me wanted to start because of you, because no one ever got you help when you needed it and you never got to live your life like you deserved, I wish you could have and I wish you could have gotten the help you needed, you deserved so much more Celine and I wish I could have given you the love of a son and made you feel loved," Jace said with the realization that he just let go of all self control and spoke completely from the heart, he didn't do that very often

Celine walked over and hugged him, as well as give him a kiss on the forehead, she pulled Clary into the hug as well, Clary was now also crying and they had one big hug.

"it's time for you two to go, before your loved ones notice you are gone, but promise me something Jace," Celine said, "promise me you will continue to play the piano and never give it up for anything, and remember that you are so very loved by so many, and that you have and always will be enough, my sunshine," Celine finished.

"I will," Jace answered

"and Clary, thank you again for loving and taking care of my boy, you are lovely and perfect for him," Celine told Clary.

"you're welcome and I will continue to do it till I die," Clary told her, and they both shared a look of understanding.

"the angel told me to give you this, Clary," Celine gave Clary a piece of paper with a new rune on it.

Clary beamed at the new rune, that was his Clary and the nerd she was, Jace wished he could stay and talk with his mom more, but I guess we don't always get what we want he thought to himself.

Celine gave them both a hug and a kiss on the forehead before she disappeared and said 'i love you Jace, I swear to you I do, and I'll be waiting here when your time has come, but don't come to soon, live your life my sunshine,'

And with that she was gone, Clary drew the rune on paper and then they went back to where they came and she drew on the doorway and there was new york, they stepped through and Jace felt the familiar smells of home

"hey honey, let's go home and go to the greenhouse so I can tell you about that surprise and then we can call it a day and take time to process all of this," Clary said, "usually I would wait but this surprise can't wait," she finished.

Jace was now very curious as to what the surprise was but his mind was also thinking about everything that happened in that space between worlds, he wasn't sure he would ever really tell anyone and maybe by the morning it would all fade away but for the moment he was gonna hold onto the memories of his mom and how he looked like her in many ways.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They made it back to the institute and apparently they had only been gone a few hours for the others, they both got changed and cleaned up.

And when they say on a bench in the greenhouse Clary looked excited and nervous for what she was gonna tell Jace.

"so as you know, we have been talking about having a family," she said

And the first thought that went through Jace's head was that Clary was pregnant, but he let her finish, he would give Clary this.

She took his hand and placed it on her lower abdomen and said "and I hope you are ready for it to start getting bigger cause I am pregnant," she said with tears in her eyes, happy tears

"I am Clar-bear, I am," he said with tears making their way down his face and he felt the tension leave Clary's body as he hugged her tight and kissed her head.

They we're gonna be parents.

"Clar-bear, if it's a girl what do you think of naming the baby Celine? We could call her CeCe for short," Jace said.

"I think that is a perfect name," Clary said.

And they stayed there in each other's embrace and cried tears of joy over the fact that there was about to be more love and light in their lives.

I hope you like this anon, it's a miss but it represents my writing very well 🤣

I enjoyed this and almost couldn't stop writing it and there is a lot to take in in this but I like that it's packed, hopefully you like it and I hope you have a wonderful day 🧡💛🧡💛

[litwitlady]

this godforsaken mess

Read on AO3.

Warnings: Casual homophobia/biphobia - angst

Angst Prompt #1 - ‘I don’t love you anymore.’

I don’t love you anymore, I don’t love you anymore, I don’t love you anymore. Alex recites the words in his head over and over again, hoping that at some point in the very near future he’ll believe them. But the clock is ticking and the sound of an old Chevy engine is growing louder by the second.

Michael pulls into Alex’s driveway and shuts his engine off. Alex stands in front of him, haloed by his headlights. They stare at each other through the windshield for far too long before Michael opens his door and slides out of the truck. It’s been one week since they last saw each other. And nearly eight since they’ve properly spoken.

Alex stuffs his hands in his pockets. ‘Thanks for doing this on such short notice.’ He doesn’t wait for a response, just turns his back to Michael and walks to his Explorer. It was supposed to be Forrest with him tonight, but he’d been called away to New York on book business. Finding a replacement date at 5:30 pm on a Friday afternoon proved impossible, until he’d done the unthinkable and called Michael.

He’d wanted to cancel - had dialed his CO’s number multiple times without pressing send. Alex had turned her down so many times before that canceling last minute seemed rude and childish and possibly ruinous to his career. But showing up dateless to a dinner party with several other couples seemed ruinous to his mental health, so he’d called everyone in his contacts list.

This whole night promises to end in disaster. He looks up as Michael walks towards the passenger side of his SUV and notices for the first time what he’s wearing. Or more accurately, what he’s not wearing. There’s no audacious belt buckle, no cowboy hat, no grease anywhere he can see. His jeans are new - dark wash denim and so perfectly snug that Alex wonders if they’ve been tailored. And instead of his usual button-up, Michael’s in a v-neck sweater - black cashmere from the looks of it. How Isobel got him to wear any of this is beyond Alex’s comprehension. ‘You look good.’

Michael shuts the door and stares at him. ‘Isobel forced me into Max’s clothes. The sweater’s itchy and the jeans are too long.’ He glances down to where the ends of his pants are cuffed. Same old worn boots on his feet. 

That tiny piece of Michael makes Alex smile. ‘But not the boots, huh?’

‘Over my dead body.’ Michael risks smiling back. ‘You look good, too. But you always look good.’

Alex has to force himself to drag his eyes away, distracting himself with turning his key in the ignition. ‘Again, Michael. Thank you so much.’ The engine roars to life. ‘It’s more than I had any right to ask.’

‘No more apologies. Just fill me in on what I need to know to survive the night. She’s your boss, right?’ He pulls down the sun visor, messing with his hair while avoiding catching his own eye in the mirror. 

‘Commanding Officer, yes. Major Denise Williams. Her husband’s name is Dan. There will be several other couples there - none of them military. All of them heterosexual. Everyone knows I’m gay and in a relationship. You’re a friend helping out last minute.’ Alex hopes none of the small talk ventures too close to their past. But the fear pooling in his stomach knows they’re going to be asked several uncomfortable questions. 

‘Are we ex-lovers or do we avoid that entirely?’ Michael flips the sun visor shut and turns his gaze out the window. ‘To be honest, Alex. I’m not in the mood to lie.’

‘No lying. I loved you and you loved me. It didn’t work. We’re trying to be friends.’ The air in the SUV thickens. Michael shifts in the leather seat, crossing his ankles. ‘Hopefully, that will make the conversation awkward enough to shut everyone up.’

Michael nods and returns his focus outside. The rest of the drive is silent. Not even the radio filling the spaces between them.

The Major’s house is modest in size but well-tended. The yard mostly rock except for the occasional plot of prettily landscaped desert flowers and shrubbery. One large pinyon pine anchoring the space and providing a fair amount of late afternoon shade. Alex parks on the street behind a Subaru and cuts the engine. ‘You ready?’

‘I hope that’s a rhetorical question.’ Michael opens his door and slides out. Waits for Alex to walk around and join him. ‘You and I both know we aren’t ready for this.’ They share a meaningful look and step together towards the front door.

Alex raises a finger to press the doorbell, but the door swings open before he gets the chance. ‘Captain Manes, so good to see you again.’ Dan Williams extends his hand which Alex shakes. 

‘You too, Dan. This is my friend, Michael Guerin.’ He motions to Michael who also extends his hand.

‘Nice to meet you, Michael. Come inside, you two. Denise is in the kitchen with our other guests.’ They cross the threshold and follow Dan into the kitchen, taking in their surroundings as they go. Michael making sure to note any exits in case a quick getaway is needed. Alex smirks at him, knowing exactly what he’s up to.

‘No crawling out of any windows, please,’ he mutters under his breath. 

Michael smirks back at him. ‘No promises.’

‘Alex!’ A middle-aged blond woman greets them, lipsticked grin spread wide across her face and not at all what Michael had expected. She’s happily plump and her warmth radiates throughout the room. ‘And you must be Michael.’

‘Thank you for inviting us, Major. We got you a little something.’ He hands her a bottle of wine. ‘Dan texted me your favorite brand.’ 

She takes the bottle of Cabernet and pulls him into a hug. ‘No Major or Captain tonight. Just Denise and Alex. And thank you for the wine. I can be quite the lush when I’m off duty.’ She winks and Michael cannot believe this woman is in the Air Force. ‘Now come meet everyone.’

Denise introduces them to two other couples. Mark and Silvia who are close to Michael and Alex’s age. Bobby and Tally who are about ten years older. Everyone is pleasant and polite, spending most of the conversation focused on discussing the Williams’ bathroom rehab and their desire to put a pool in next summer. Michael gladly accepts a beer and Alex takes a glass of wine. They keep to the edges of the conversation, rarely offering more than a nod or a hum of agreement.

Somewhere along the way, they subconsciously press together - shoulder to hip. Oblivious until Tally smiles at them and asks the first devastating question of the night. ‘How long have you two been dating?’

Michael and Alex leap apart from each other like they’ve been burned. Alex cuts his eyes to Denise who steps in to save them. ‘I’m sorry, Alex. I forgot to inform everyone before you arrived.’ She turns to the group. ‘Alex’s boyfriend had to go out of town last minute. Michael is a good friend giving up his Friday evening to save Alex from facing us alone.’

Alex smiles his thanks and exchanges a look with Michael. ‘We used to date. In high school, mostly. Never worked out.’ It’s a version of the truth.

‘So, you’re both gay?’ Mark asks, innocently. Sipping at his own glass of wine.

‘I’m bisexual, actually.’ Michael answers, hiding his annoyance with a practiced ease.

The oven timer buzzes and Dan claps his hands. ‘Dinner’s ready. Everyone go grab a seat at the table.’ He shuffles everyone but Michael and Alex into the dining room. 

Denise pulls the roast chicken from the oven and then takes them aside. ‘I’m so sorry. That whole conversation was my fault. I should have explained everything before you arrived. I guess I know why you’ve been avoiding this for so long, Alex.’

Alex does his best to fake a smile. ‘It’s okay, Major. I’ve handled worse.’ 

Dan returns to grab the chicken. Denise moves to follow him out of the kitchen. ‘Take a breather. Join us when you’re ready.’ She pats both of them on the arm and disappears.

‘I’m so sorry. We can leave it you want. She’d never hold it against me.’ He mindlessly gathers a fistful of Michael’s shirt and starts to tug him towards the front door. ‘I can text her from outside.’

Michael grabs hold of his waist. ‘Hey, stop. I’m okay. We’re okay. Like you said, we’ve handled way worse. Casual homophobia with a side of biphobia tainted with a shitload of ignorance? Piece of cake.’

That earns him a small smile. ‘Casual bigotry always feels particularly heinous.’ 

Neither is sure how they end up with their arms wrapped around each other, but regardless, that’s where they land. Hugged tightly together in a strange kitchen. The moment oddly intimate and entirely devoid of sex. They take a long moment to breathe one another in and relax. ‘I like Denise. I bet she’s a good boss. Not at all what I’d imagined.’ 

Reluctantly, Alex pulls away. He has trouble meeting Michael’s eye, standing so close. ‘She is a good boss. It’s one of the reasons I didn’t want to mix the professional with the personal. But everyone in my unit has been to one of her dinners. I couldn’t keep saying no.’

‘And it was supposed to be Forrest with you. The incredibly charming boyfriend who never lets anything ruffle his feathers. And who can spend endless hours talking about his research in a way that makes everyone swoon.’ Michael rolls his eyes good-naturedly.  

‘Maybe you could regale them with your expertise on rebuilding engines. Or applied mathematics. Drug them all to sleep with your brilliance.’ Michael laughs loudly and from out of nowhere Alex wants to kiss him. Rarely has he ever wanted to kiss anyone so desperately. He white knuckles the counter behind him to keep himself from taking a step further, palms sweating and heart racing. I don’t love you anymore, I don’t love you anymore, I don’t love you anymore.

The chant hadn’t worked at the beginning of the night and it’s not working now.

Michael tilts his head towards the dining room. ‘Let’s go eat.’

Dinner goes well, the food is excellent. Alex and Michael get to fade into the background for a while as talk returns to home repair and upcoming travel plans. A little extra alcohol doesn’t hurt either. Alex notices they both drink enough to get a decent buzz going and to calm their nerves. Everyone at the table well ahead of them anyway. Alex is pretty positive the Air Force would frown upon his CO plying him with so much free booze, but he’s not planning on telling anyone so he takes another sip of wine.

Eventually, Silvia turns to Alex. ‘Denise tells us that you’re dating Forrest Long. I’ve seen him around town and know he’s helping his uncle out on the farm. How did you two meet?’

He can feel Michael bristle next to him. But there’s nothing he can do about that and his answer’s certainly not going to help either. ‘Through Michael, actually. They got to know each other at the local library, fighting over the microfiche reader.’

‘Oh, that’s so interesting. What were you researching at the library, Michael? If you don’t mind my asking, of course.’ Everyone turns their attention to Michael, and Alex mentally chastises himself. 

‘Nothing special. Some family history and the 1947 UFO crash. Forrest was doing the same for his book.’ They all nod their heads and return to eating.

‘That’s sweet.’ Denise raises her glass to them. ‘Most exes can barely stand being in the same room together and here you two are playing matchmaker for each other. The only thing I ever wanted to do with one of my exes was fling them into the sun.’ She smiles across the table at her husband and everyone raises their glasses, laughing in agreement.

‘We’re not as well-adjusted as we sound. I’ve wanted to fling him into the sun more times than I can count. And I’m sure the same is true for him.’ Alex chuckles along with the group and glances at Michael. They smile fondly at each other and Michael takes another risk, placing his hand on Alex’s thigh underneath the table.

‘Yeah, but if I ever flung you into the sun, I’d just build a spaceship to go get you back.’ He squeezes Alex’s knee and his eyes soften.

‘Me, too.’ He plants his hand on top of Michael’s and the rest of the room fades away. It is the closest Alex has ever come to cheating on someone. 

Dan clears his throat and they both jerk their heads in his direction. ‘Were you each other’s first loves?’

Michael starts talking before Alex manages to find suitable words. ‘Yes. We were two really soft kids with rough upbringings who found a home in each other. However briefly.’ The table falls silent until Mark begins the story of how he and his wife met working as lifeguards during college.

Dinner ends soon after. Dan and Denise making everyone a plate of food to take home and wishing everyone a goodnight. Denise waves to Michael, but pulls Alex aside. ‘He’s a sweet boy, Alex. I’m glad I got to meet him.’ She stares at him for a beat too long, eyebrows furrowed. ‘May I offer you some unsolicited advice? Please feel free to tell me to fuck off.’

Alex’s eyes widen at her swear. She laughs and shakes her head. ‘I never dreamed of being in the Air Force. And I sure as shit never intended to become a lifer. But life has a funny way of sending us down the right path - no matter how hard we fight against it.’ She gives him one last knowing look. ‘I’ll see you on Monday morning. Tell Michael I think he’s a delight.’

When Alex gets back to his Explorer, Michael is leaning against the driver’s side door. ‘Your keys.’ He’s holding out his hand.

‘I can drive.’ But even he has to admit the world is spinning slightly and his steps are more than little wobbly. Michael doesn’t pull his hand away. ‘Fine.’ He slaps his keys in Michael’s palm. ‘How come you’re so sober?’

‘Years of practice, baby. Plus, after the first beer, I strategically switched to water.’ He smirks and unlocks the car. Michael’s a constant marvel and Alex misses him so much.

The ride home is once again silent. Alex dozes off and wakes up to discover Michael leaning over his lap to unfasten his seat belt. ‘I miss you.’ He doesn’t mean to say it. But he’s glad it’s out in the open now. 

Michael helps him slide out of his seat and plant his feet firmly on the ground. ‘That’s the wine talking. Just last week you avoided talking to me in the cereal aisle.’

‘I have to avoid you or something wrong will happen.’ Michael ignores him and walks him to his front door, using his telekinesis to click the deadbolt open. All Alex’s security lights turn on, flooding his patio with bright, blinding light. Returning some of his sense to him and flaming his cheeks with embarrassment. ‘I’m sorry. You’re right. I had too much wine.’

Michael nods, letting the whole thing go with a shrug. ‘You okay on your own?’

‘Yeah. Thanks again. For everything. I owe you.’ Alex wants to hug him. Wants to kiss him back in time to the moment right before he’d kissed Forrest that first time. But he doesn’t do either. ‘Goodnight, Michael.’

‘Night, Alex.’ He turns and strides to his truck. The darkness of night stealing him from Alex’s sight.

The Chevy disappears down the street, the chug of the engine growing fainter as the stars shine overhead. And Alex tries one last time. I don’t love you anymore, I don’t love you anymore, I don’t love you anymore.

[winryofresembool]

Things We Lost in the Fire, ch 33

aka Caleo uni au

Fic summary: Calypso starts studying at a new university, but to her annoyance her new flatmate is a loud mouthed mechanic who also likes to sneak his dog in whenever. But as she learns to know him better, she realizes they might have more in common than what she first thought. Eventually, even the darkest secrets come out…

Chapter summary: What happens after Leo returns? (At Waystation, pt 1234)

A/N:  What is this? A new chapter? I know I probably apologize too much but still, sorry for the long wait! Writer's block is not fun, you guys. It seems that I'm getting more and more insecure about where I should take this story by each chapter, but I did get a couple of encouraging comments while I was writing it and they motivated me to keep going! Extra special shoutout to my bff Cris(sy) for both recommending me the song that eventually helped this chapter to be born, and also helping me edit yesterday because I certainly wouldn't be posting this right now without you. (((((((((huug))))))))))

Disclaimer: The song New Year's Day obviously belongs to Taylor Swift and I definitely recommend listening to it while reading this chapter (specifically the scene where it's mentioned).

Words: 3300+

Genre: romance & hurt/comfort

Warnings: none

previous chapter / AO3

…

Leo stayed at the park for a while longer, but eventually he knew he had to return to Waystation. The talk with Piper had made him feel a bit better, but he was still worried about how Calypso would react to his meltdown. In his opinion, she had every right to be mad. He would have to explain his behavior, but how? That was the big question.

It was already well past noon when Leo showed up at Waystation again. The building was surprisingly quiet when he entered, hoping the others were looking for him. Usually Georgina was all over the place around this time, sugar high from the chocolate she had eaten and making a mess with her new presents. Luckily, once he had removed his coat and his hat, he started hearing some clunking from the kitchen, indicating someone was there.

Instead of just bursting into the kitchen and announcing that he had returned, he stopped to watch by the doorway. Only Calypso and Georgina were in there, the younger girl chatting enthusiastically while the older one was instructing her with baking. They were standing with their backs towards the door so they couldn’t see Leo. The smell that was coming from the oven somehow felt very familiar… something he associated with Calypso. It wasn’t until she bowed down to take something out of the oven that he realized what it was. The cookies smelled the same as the cake Calypso had baked a few times at their flat, and the shampoo she used: cinnamon-y.

“Look, Georgina!” Calypso showed her the cookies. “These ended up pretty good.” It sounded like she was hesitating a bit before she continued: “Hopefully your brother will like them as well.”

“Oh, he will, Calie! He’d probably like anything you do!” Georgina noted in the straightforward style she was used to.

“But I didn’t make these alone,” Calypso reminded her. “I had a good helper.” She put the oven pan on the table and reached to ruffle the top of Georgina’s hair a bit.

“Where do you think he went, anyway?” Georgina asked. Leo wasn’t sure if he just imagined it but to him she sounded pretty worried. “I’ve not seen him that way often…”

Calypso sounded pretty cautious when she answered. “I’m sure he will be back soon. He must be tired because he’s been working a lot lately and that’s why he’s a bit on the edge… but he wouldn’t want to miss your gingerbread cookies. Hey, what color should we use to decorate these?” She turned Georgina’s focus back to the cookies again. “Do you think pink would be cute?”

“No, I want all the different colors! Blue, red, purple, green, yellow…” Georgina started listing all the colors that she could remember.

“I don’t think we have that many food color bottles here,” Calypso pointed out with amusement. “But you know, we can try to mix some together!”

“That sounds great! Hey, is pink your favorite color?” The girl asked suddenly.

“Hah, what gives me away?” Calypso chuckled. Even the apron she was currently wearing happened to be pink, although Leo knew that was probably purely coincidental because she was using one of Emmie’s aprons.

“You’re always wearing something pink and you even wanted pink gingerbread cookies,” Georgina noted while she started mixing the sugar frosting very eagerly.

“You’re a smart one, aren’t you?” Calypso teased. “I do really like pink, though. I don’t know. Maybe it reminds me of the sunsets back in my childhood home… But lately I’ve noticed that I have quite a lot of red things in my wardrobe too. But what about you? What’s your favorite color?”

Georgina gave Calypso a long and colorful answer, which Leo only half listened to. He started thinking about Calypso’s statement. He wasn’t completely dense; he had noticed that Calypso had often picked those outfits that he may have complimented at some point. But could it be that she had even started using more red because of him? Nah, he shook his head, that was a selfish way of thinking. Her outfit choices were probably purely coincidental.

Suddenly Leo realized that he had been standing there eavesdropping the girls way too long. When he was about to leave, though, he heard Georgina say: “my moms try to hide it from me, but I know that Leo is not OK. I mean, maybe he is, sometimes… but I remember that last Christmas was a lot like this one.”

“What do you mean?” Calypso asked.

“He didn’t yell at anyone, but… when he is in a bad mood he either shuts down and avoids us or is even louder than usual. But between the jokes, he doesn’t look happy at all. Moms would probably say ‘Georgie, you’re too small to understand that stuff’, but I’m not a baby anymore. This one golden haired dude visits us sometimes and he knows a lot about health things and he’s been teaching me as well. I know sometimes people get depressed, if for example something really bad has happened to them. And I think something very bad happened to big bro before he came here.”

“Yeah… sometimes things like that happen, sadly… But you know what?” Calypso said, probably attempting to sound more cheerful. “I think your brother is really trying. He cares about you so much he puts your happiness before his. He doesn’t want you to worry about him. But he’s strong, just like you, right? He’ll pull through.”

At this point Leo felt he had heard enough. He had been expecting some talk about him; after all he had just caused a scene in the middle of the present opening. But to hear Calypso talk about him that way? So sweetly? That he hadn’t expected. He had imagined she’d be mad at him after the ‘incident’ of that morning. Maybe she was just trying to be nice simply to calm Georgina down, but that he would never know.

He slowly started backing up, so that the girls wouldn’t notice his presence. However, just when he was nearly by the stairway, his foot hit a box that someone had left on the floor, making a loud noise. Cursing himself in his head, he quickly looked up to see that the sound had piqued the girls’ interest and they both tried to see where it had come from. He hid upstairs as quickly as he could, but that didn’t change the fact that Calypso most likely knew he had been listening to them.

Great, he thought, as he closed his bedroom door behind him. As if things hadn’t already been awkward enough even before this…

… (Calypso POV)

Once she was done with baking with Georgina, Calypso withdrew into her guest room for some ‘me’ time. She had a lot to think about. Leo hadn’t been around for the lunch, which meant that the Waystation group had been unusually quiet while finishing their meals. She knew everyone must have been thinking about him, but no one dared to bring him up. After the lunch, Georgina had asked Calypso to bake with her and she had agreed, welcoming the distraction. But Leo still hadn’t returned so she had started playing with the idea that she wouldn’t listen to Jo and Emmie’s advice, instead going to look for him after cleaning the kitchen. Before she had gotten that far, though, she had heard him in the hallway, but he had disappeared from there before she had time to even properly see him. However, she knew it couldn’t have been anyone else.

While she was relieved that he had finally come back, one part of her was also kind of mad that he had been eavesdropping and hadn’t even told them that he had returned. She was pretty close to just marching into his room and letting him hear it, but eventually she decided she wasn’t quite ready for that talk yet. If only there was some machine that would allow them to exchange their thoughts without the actual confrontation… But that was a naive thought, Calypso knew.

Finally, she decided that dwelling on the issues the whole day wouldn’t help anything. Since the Waystation family would get some Christmas guests for the evening, she decided that she should probably change out of her baking attire (a simple t-shirt and sweatpants) that had gotten a bit floury despite the apron that had covered it. Thankful for having taken several outfits from her flat (see, Leo, they were useful for something after all, she thought), she was drawn between blue jeans and a white blouse and a pretty 50ies style red dress she had only recently sewn for herself. It had sleeves that reached her elbows, a ribbon around the waist and a v-shaped neckline. Calypso wondered if the dress was a bit ‘too much’ for a family dinner but she liked how it had ended up looking and felt pretty confident in it. That’s why she ended up picking it instead of the more casual option. Besides, a tiny voice said in Calypso’s head, it didn’t hurt that Leo liked that color...

Tying her hair into a small braid pun and adding a ribbon around it, she was finally happy with her look. Then her gaze fell into the silver bracelet Leo had given to her that was still around her wrist. Briefly, she wondered how he’d feel about seeing it after their earlier incident, but she decided to leave it on. She had kind of expected Leo to give her something silly, like a CD of him singing Never Gonna Give You Up or chili seeds as a joke, but the jewelry box and the bracelet had been very thoughtful. Leo really knew how to surprise her – in a good way – sometimes…

Realizing that she had already been spending over an hour in her guest room, Calypso decided it was time to go back to socialize with her hosts. She heard Georgina’s voice coming from the living room and decided to go check up on her. The young girl was sitting by the piano, singing one of those more modern Christmas songs that she herself wasn’t crazy about, but somehow it sounded a lot more bearable when Georgina performed it. But what really surprised Calypso was Georgina’s pianist. Leo was sitting there next to his adoptive sister and focusing on running his fingers on the instrument. For some reason she hadn’t expected him to be musical and especially not interested in playing Christmas songs (Calypso knew he was more of a rock ‘n roll type of guy). She wasn’t sure what to think of this discovery.

Calypso had always loved music and she had even attempted to learn to play the piano with the help of a nanny for a little while, but when her dad had discovered what they did, he had immediately told them to stop. To this day, Calypso couldn’t understand why; she just assumed that maybe her beloved father hadn’t wanted her to learn something so ‘useless’. Thankfully, her voice wasn’t something her father could take from her so she had kept singing mostly out of spite, and became pretty good. Now she began wondering if Leo would ever mind teaching her to play… that was, if they were able to have a normal conversation again.

Georgina’s song ended and Calypso stepped forward to let the others know she was there, applauding the girl.

“That sounded good!” She encouraged her. “I’m not a fan of Christmas songs but you did well.”

“Thanks, Calie!” Georgina beamed at her. “Leo has told me you can sing too. Can I hear some? Please? Leo can play!”

“I… uh… wasn’t expecting to see you here.” Calypso turned to Leo. “Since when have you been playing the piano?”

Leo ignored Calypso’s first remark and replied: “Since I was a kid. Yeah, I bet you thought I’m more like a drum person or something but it was my mom’s idea I’d try this. Well? Are you gonna sing something?” He asked when Calypso remained quiet.

“I don’t really know that many Christmas songs…” she replied hesitantly. “Georgie, do you have any suggestions?”

“I love Taylor Swift’s songs!” the 9-year-old announced. “Do you know any of them?”

Calypso nearly burst out laughing. “Of course I do! She’s one of my favorite artists. But I thought we were going to sing Christmas songs.”

“Nah, I think I’ve already had enough of them,” Georgina stated. “But TS has made some holiday themed songs as well. Like New Year’s Day. I have the piano sheet for it!” The girl showed her a book she had borrowed from the library.

“You’re a real Swiftie, huh?” Calypso couldn’t help but smile at the girl’s enthusiasm. “But fine, I actually quite like that song so I could sing it.”

Leo had been following the conversation quietly but now he took the book from Georgina and eyed the sheet.

“Let me practice a little; I haven’t even heard this song before so I have no idea how to play it.”

“Sure, take your time,” Calypso said carefully. She was relieved to see that Leo was acting that calmly now despite the morning’s incident but she couldn’t help but wonder if that was just the surface. Surely he couldn’t have just completely forgotten about it? She would have to bring it up at some point, but now was not the time. Even when she attempted to read the lyrics her thoughts kept going back to him.

She was so lost in her thoughts that Leo had to raise his voice before she noticed he had stopped playing. “Hey, did you hear me? I asked if you’re ready.”

“What?” she shook her head. “Sorry. I was just wondering something. But yes, I’m ready now.”

Calypso noticed that Georgina kept looking at them curiously, but for once she didn’t say anything.

“Good. Let’s go,” Leo said in a neutral tone.

As she started singing, the lyrics started sinking into her differently than before. Suddenly she felt like she was the narrator, singing about the aftermath of a party she had attended. Even though Calypso wasn’t big on parties, and the latest one she had been in – the Halloween one – hadn’t gone ideally, when she kept picturing herself among her friends that she had gained during her time in Indianapolis, smiling, carrying their shoes because their feet hurt from the dancing, she felt… happy. Adding to that the image of spending time with Leo cleaning up their home while he made his snarky comments and probably tried to sabotage her cleaning process, she felt warm in a way she hadn’t expected. However, she tried to stop that track of thoughts because she realized what it implied. The narrator of the song was singing about her significant other, and Calypso had decided a long time ago that she shouldn’t get one.

As Leo kept playing, Calypso tried to keep her focus on his fingers running on the keys. For a while it worked; Calypso was amazed by how fast they could move, but then again, she supposed that all those years of building things with his hands really helped him develop that skill. Calypso could spot some stains on his hands from the machines he had handled that would barely leave even with soap, and the under nail area could definitely have used some proper scrubbing, but he wouldn’t have been Leo without those things. She couldn’t imagine him not fiddling with something 24/7. That was one of the reasons she admired him; she valued hard work pretty high and couldn’t imagine being with someone who was just sitting still.

”But I stay when you're lost and I'm scared and you're turning away…”

When Calypso reached that part, she felt chills go down her spine because of how well that line described her and Leo’s current situation. He felt lost because of some past traumas. She was scared of both letting him too close and losing him and everything she had gained since that fall. He had turned away from her and his family already twice that day. But there was hope; maybe, if they managed to finally communicate properly, they’d find a way to even deal with the ‘midnights’.

“Hold on to your memories, they will hold on to you.”

Calypso stopped to think about that line. At first her thoughts went to the badmemories such as the times when she had been living with her father. But when she repeated the line, she understood the song was talking about the good memories that would carry you even in your worst moments. Before she knew it, she was filled with flashbacks. Yelling at Leo after Festus broke her desk. The weird warm feeling after she saw the fixed desk. Casually spending time together; cooking, cleaning, playing, watching shows together… That time when Leo had given her the seeds of her favorite flower… The ‘therapy’ sessions… The Halloween party and the almost kiss after that… the weird tension they’d been having ever since that moment… His smiles and laughs… No matter what would happen, she would always hold those memories close to her heart.

Suddenly, Calypso knew. This wasn’t just some infatuation that would go away with time. She had learned to appreciate Leo’s company more and more, the good and the bad sides, to the point that she was now in love with him. Back in August she had thought that they would probably never get along, but to her surprise they had more in common than she had expected and he had become a big part of her life. Lonely, unsure about their futures, past traumas… that’s what tied them together. And even if she wanted to, she wouldn’t be able to deny that what she had been afraid of had already happened.

“And I will hold onto you.”

Those five simple words made Calypso’s voice crack. With frustration she swept the corner of her eyes quickly and attempted to clear her voice for the last lines of the song.

“Please don’t ever become a stranger whose laugh I could recognize anywhere.”

She looked up from the lyrics with blurry eyes and glanced at the boy with the piano. Some months ago, she had told herself that she wouldn’t let anyone get too close to her. But somehow Leo and all her new friends had just snuck into it, and she couldn’t imagine her life without them. She wanted them to be a permanent part of it, but with so many uncertainties in the future, could she count on it?

“What’s the matter, Cal?” Leo asked when she very clearly had difficulties pronouncing the last few words of the song.

Calypso knew the words she was going to say were probably unfair, but she couldn’t stop herself. The frustrations of that day just demanded to get out. “What’s the matter, Cal?” she mocked him. “I don’t know, Leo. You just… freak out all of a sudden and run away and then you come back and act like nothing happened?! Don’t you understand at all how worried we all are about you?!”

“I…” Leo stammered but didn’t finish his sentence.

“Well? Are you gonna explain yourself?” Calypso asked.

“Listen, you need to understand…”

“Understand what, Leo?”

Calypso waited for a little longer, but when the answer never came, she said: “You know what? Never mind. Clearly I was a fool to think that you care about us… about me the same way I care about you.”

“Calypso…”

Calypso turned her back to him and muttered: “I’m going to see if Jo and Emmie need my help with something. Do not follow me.”

In reality, Calypso withdrew into the closest bathroom and finally let the tears come.

[k-writer1998]

Who Said Love Was Easy (3/12)

      There are many different kinds of people who come and go from your life. Some will stay constant and sturdy like a river, growing alongside you, others will come like a whirlwind who wreaks havoc and leaves just as quickly, then there is everything in between. In this twisted maze of connections, that is where our story begins. A steadfast boy, a girl with a past, a little bit of alcohol, mistakes, and some love. Where can you go wrong with that?

angsty fluff

w.c: 2.1k

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

      Summer lectures, design deadlines and no focus because of that brat. It’s been three years, they shouldn’t have this effect on me anymore… Even if I tell myself that, that woman has such a strong oppressive energy. I always feel like I’m suffocating. Ugh just thinking about it makes me sick to my stomach. Needing a change of pace I decided to walk to the pub to wait for Changbin. The bustle of the city was a comforting white noise to drown out my thoughts since I really needed to just… not think for a bit. That is, until I felt the hair on the back of my neck stand. With this new sense of anxiety I finally noticed the black car, not so subtly, following me. Luckily the street the pub was on was too narrow for cars and it was entering my line of sight. I checked my phone reflection as a man got out and of course it would be him. Picking up my pace to get away did nothing as he still caught me and forced me to turn around, keeping a hold on my wrist.

“Why are you running away from me?”

“I don’t know, maybe because some random car was following me, a girl who is alone, for over five minutes?” I reply sarcastically.

“I’ve been calling you but you weren’t answering.”

“Call? I probably blocked your number. Look, I’m not interested in pretending to rekindle some broken bond.”

“Y/n… don’t be like this you know I-”

“Don’t pull the remorseful brother act, Youngho-oppa. If you really cared you would have looked for me after I left,” I spat.

      Unlike his sister Younghee who openly showed her indifference, not hearing from him was worse than being thrown out. Youngho was the only one in the entire family that showed me a smidge of kindness, let alone acknowledging my presence when no one else did. It wasn’t until a year after being kicked out did I learn I was nothing more than a stray puppy he played with cause he was bored.

“Don’t be like this y/n. Mom hasn’t been in the right state of mind since dad died. She didn’t mean to hurt you and she’s trying to make it up to you,” he coaxed, pulling me in to stop the wandering ears from hearing.

“That’s a load of shit and you know it. That woman never liked me the minute I was brought in and she made sure everyone but dad knew that. Will she give back the shares to dad’s company that are rightfully mine?”

      His eyebrow twitched and I caught the crack in his facade. Every single one of them are selfish creatures and they will never betray their true nature, a fact I learned the hard way and will not underestimate again.

“Y/n things are sensitive now as is, you can’t just ask for something like that. Why would you want something like those? Aren’t you studying design?”

“Wow, someone did their research. If design doesn’t work I should at least have the shares to give me some support. It was a decent portion wasn’t it?” I pushed.

“Stop acting like a child there are bigger things going on so just cooperate. The faster you do the less we have to see each other. Do you think I have time to chase you around like this?”

      And his true color shows. By now his hold on my arm had turned into a vice grip and it hurt like hell but I couldn’t show weakness now, they don’t get to win after everything.

“Ha… I can’t believe I waited six months to hear from you like you actually cared. Sometimes you really are worse than your mother.”

      My head snapped to the side in an instant and it was numb for a moment before the stinging settled in. I knew something of this caliber would happen… for his own reasons he hated his mother. Who knew it would tick him off that much? Before either of us could come back from the shock, a hand broke the hold on my wrist and my line of sight was covered by someone’s back. The mystery person shielded me from my brother and I immediately recognized the ring on their pinky. Should I be glad or panicked that Jeongin’s here?

“Sorry I’m late, is this person bothering you?”

“Oh? Is this your boyfriend?” Youngho smirked, eyeing him up and down.

“No.” I roll my eyes, trying my best to mask my unease. Jeongin doesn’t need to be dragged into my family drama. I tug at his hand lightly and he turned to look back at me, “Come on, we’re late meeting the others. This conversation is over anyways.”

      Once in front of the pub, Jeongin turned to examine my face. Seeing such concern in his eyes I couldn’t stop the surge of emotion that came over me as tears started to fall.

“Are you okay?! You must’ve been scared…” he panicked and I shook my head.

“Thank you,” I sniffed.

“You still got hit… I can’t believe-”

“It’s whatever.” This was not the first time someone from that family raised their hand to me, I expected nothing less… and I did purposefully push his buttons. “I deserved it. I provoked him.”

      In an instant my gaze that was trained on the ground was forced to meet his piercing eyes by the gentle force of his hand nudging my chin. He had leaned in so that we were eye level and my brain nearly short circuited at his close proximity. Well that’s one way to stop tears.

“It doesn’t matter if you provoked him, that shouldn’t have happened y/n. No one deserves that, do you understand?”

      It surprised me how serious he was about this. I don’t know if it was the butterflies from how close he was or the unsettling feeling of being… perceived, but I couldn’t think. Instead I numbly nodded, my eyes never leaving his as if under a spell. The corner of his lips quirked up at my response before he ushered me into the pub and sat me in my usual seat. He tossed a bag to Chan, that I hadn’t noticed he had, before disappearing to the back. Jeongin re-emerged with some ice and placed it on my face causing me to wince a bit. Taking it from his hands, he reached for my arm but I instinctively pulled away.

“Is your arm okay?”

“It’s fine. Probably slightly bruised at most but nothing serious.”

      He eyed me suspiciously but before he could say anything Jaehyung barged over, worry written all over his face.

“Y/n! What happened?!”

“It’s nothing,” I smiled. He immediately whirled on Jeongin and gave him a pointed look.

“I caught some guy bothering her when I was out buying Chan-hyung some Advil and he… slapped her,” he responded guiltily. 

      I don’t know if I should admire or be annoyed by his honesty. I tiredly rubbed my forehead, already feeling the anger rolling off of Jaehyung. 

“Don’t feel guilty Jeongin,” I smiled before turning to Jaehyung. “Thanks for getting mad for me but it’s not worth it Jaehyung-oppa.”

“Was it your fam-”

“Yes,” I cut him off, but that was more than enough for Jeongin to put the pieces together. Not wanting to hear anything from either of them I add, “I’m fine, really. Plus Changbin is coming so don’t worry okay?”

“Not worry? You usually end up home drunk and always make bad decisions with him.”

“Ninety-six percent of the time it’s me, bad decisions help relieve stress you know,” I smile like a child trying not to get in trouble.

      Jaehyung ruffled my hair with a resigned sigh before telling me not to come home too drunk and went off. Jeongin kept me company but I had to ignore his eyes that were filled with questions I didn’t want to answer. Luckily Changbin came soon after but his eyes zeroed in on my cheek and was ready to square up with Jeongin before I intervened.

"Nope. I'll explain later, let's go." I gave him no time to argue as I waved Jeongin goodbye and sped to the door.

      Knowing that I’ve come from a deprived childhood, Changbin’s lenient with me and my impulses. That being said, tonight is a total bust. Instead of somewhere fun, we’re at some restaurant because as Changbin puts it, he needs to “gage my recklessness” since I “act up more” when my family is involved.

“I ordered some food… and alcohol since I promised to take you out to have fun but before that, what the hell happened? Who hit you? Wh-”

“Are you going to keep going or do you actually want me to answer the questions?”

“Obviously answer them you smart ass. ”

“Long story short it was Youngho and the guy from the pub basically saved me more or less.”

      His eyes softened at the mention of my brother. The first six months I was kicked out I stayed with Changbin until Hyorin, my mom's best friend who had been acting like an actual guardian for me since my dad died, helped me find an affordable place. He’s the one who saw the emotional toll it took when the one person I believed to be on my side threw me away. 

“I would’ve thought he would be too busy with company stuff to come out, especially since he is under a microscope right now with the chairman’s health issues and all.”

“That’s why wicked stepmother and her children are on my tail. They’re trying to exploit our relationship, tied by nothing more than my father’s blood, to try to win grandma over cause she is fond of me and has a big share.” I ran an annoyed hand through my hair before whining, “so can we go clubbing?”

“Yeah… no. I’ll be having to pry off some guy from trying to take you home because you’re wasted.”

“No. That only happened like… four? times…”

“Four times too many. But drink your fill here and let Mr. Neighbor know that you’re staying at mine. If I bring you home drop dead drunk again I think he would actually kill me.”

“You’re probably right,” I laugh before shooting a quick text to Jaehyung. Once I put my phone down, the waitress came in with our order and I pointed at Changbin, “no talking about the unholy trinity or I’m leaving to go be unsupervised.”

“Yes, yes. I spoil you too much,” he sighs before adding, “how is the chairman anyways?”

“Grandpa still wants to believe I don’t exist and last I heard from grandma was that his heart isn’t in good health. It’s hard to treat when they’re trying to hide it from the company. Everyone knows he’s sick but not how bad,” I respond flatly.

“... Okay one question and I’ll stop. Who are the other runner ups other than… you know who?”

      I downed my second shot in annoyance. Changbin and Jaehyung could be good friends if they let it happen, they’re both so nosy… I could care less about company drama though so I tell him. Not like I’ll get in trouble.

“I- Are you asking me to leave?”

“Oh come on, if they’re this desperate that means there are other strong candidates right?”

“Fine.” I glare, shoving some food in my mouth before answering, “They’re looking into my cousin Wooin and a long-term director Jihyo. They have high performance with successful big projects under their belt in addition to having the favor of various important people.”

“Okay, so what’s this about finding Loverboy? It’s been what? A year with no contact?”

“Of course I do. That was the first time I formed a fat crush on a guy I just met,” I roll my eyes. “It’s the guy you wanted to beat up, Jeongin. It’s been a few months but he’s been working at Jaehyung’s pub.”

      I don’t know if it was the alcohol doing its job but I started to get sentimental as I thought back to our first meeting. That night was during a relatively low point in my life and I was losing touch with the world around me, but he was the first thing I found interest in after a long time. As if my brain wanted to torture me, the image of his face mere inches from mine popped back into my mind.

“Did something already happen?! Your face is red!”

“Shut up. He still has a girl he likes so no.”

“Still?” Changbin whistles in surprise, “That’s what I call devotion. Does he remember you?”

“Nope. To make matters… interesting, she works there too and has a crush on Jaehyung-oppa.”

“Wait that cute new waitress? On that old man? And I thought you had problems,” he laughs.

[schrijverr]

To be or not to be

Brian has an existential crisis about whether he is real, The Toy Soldier helps him. Later The Toy Soldier is questioning itself and goes to Brian, they find solance in the other.

On AO3.

Ships: none

Warnings: idk, this might not be for you if you are prone to existential crisis. Tell me if I missed anything or if you want me to tag something!

~~~~~~~~~~

Brian was panicking, he didn’t even know why he was panicking, but he was. Well that was a lie, he knew damn well why he was panicking, but the reason only made him panic more.

He had woken up to no sound.

It was very unusual for life on Aurora to be silent, so Brian had immediately become worried. He had hurried out of bed and to the common area, only to find multiple members up and running, shouting and shooting at each other. But he couldn't hear a thing.

The others had noticed him standing there, confused and panicked. They had asked him what was wrong. He had tried to explain, seeing them cringe and lean in as his volume switched between too hard and too soft according to their reactions.

They quickly figured out that a wire had disconnected in his sleep, something that was easily mended, but it left Brian with a sour taste in his mouth. Well, it would have if he’d had any taste buds, which he didn’t, because he was a robot.

He wasn’t real.

And there it was, the real issue that was making him walk through the halls disorientated as he tried to calm down and not spiral. It wasn’t working out for him so far, though.

Brain was about to just sit down and curl into a ball when he ran into The Toy Soldier. It was whistling a tune as it marched, but it fell still when it saw Brian. It cocked its head to the side and asked: “Are You Quite Alright, Old Sport?”

“Yeah.” Brian tried weakly, unsure why he was even lying.

“I Am Not Sure That Is Correct, But I Do Not Think I Can Tell You Your Feelings Are Not Real.” TS replied.

“Maybe you just can, TS. After all why would I be real?” Brian sighed sadly.

The Toy Solider frowned, then carefully said: “I Might Be Understanding Your Tone Wrong, But You Seem Upset About That Fact.”

Brain scuffed his foot on the floor and looked down, before he shrugged: “I don’t know, you know? I feel I should be real, but then my body reminds me how not human I am and it freaks me out and then I wonder why I’m even trying to be real when I’m so obviously not. I mean, my morality is controlled by a little switch, who am I even fooling?”

“Not Being Real Isn’t The End Of The World.” The Toy Soldier said in an attempt to cheer him up.

He smiled and said: “I know that, TS. Sorry, if I made you feel like you not being real is dumb or something, I just want to be real, but I don’t feel like I am, you know?”

“I Do Not Feel, So You Didn’t, Do Not Worry.” The Toy Soldier assured him, “And You Are Quite Real.”

“Really? How do you know?” Brian asked, glad to have someone there to tell him that he wasn’t fake and he existed.

“Well, When I Feel Particularly Real, I Will List Things That Real People Do That I Don’t. You Do A Lot Of Real People Stuff.” The Toy Soldier explained.

“Can you tell me some of them, I kind of need that right now.” Brian told it.

“Of Course.” it replied cheerily, “Here Lets Sit.”

It sat down on the ground in the middle of the hallway, motioning Brian to follow its example. Brian shrugged and sat down next to it as he waited for it to start. It pretended the think for a moment, then began: “Well, For Starters You Sleep.”

“You don’t?” Brian couldn't help but asked confused.

“No, I Tried To Pretend A Few Times, But It Is Dreadfully Boring And I Can Use That Time For Much More Productive Things.” The Toy Soldier said.

“Oh, I didn’t know that.”

“That Is Because You Sleep Like A Real Person.” The Toy Soldier smiled, earning a small smile back, “Another Thing Is Your Eating.”

“I would hardly call drinking oil eating, TS.” Brian protested.

“It Is Something You Consume For Fuel To Keep Your Body Going, Correct?” TS asked.

“Well, yes, but-”

“Then I Do Not See How It Is Anything Different From Eating.” The Toy Soldier said firmly, “You Also Feel Pain, I Have Been Told That Is A Very Human And Real Experience.”

“You feel pain too, don’t you?” Brian asked.

“No, I Am Made Of Wood, There Is No Nervous System Running Through These Limbs, Old Sport.” The Toy Soldier smiled.

“But I heard you complain when Jonny stole your arm the other day.” Brian was still a bit confused about this new revelation.

“Just Because I Cannot Experience Pain, Does Not Mean It Is Not Uncomfortable To Function With A Limb Less.” TS explained.

Brian shrugged and made a ‘that’s-fair’-face. He had calmed considerably in comparison to earlier, his shoulders had relaxed and the fans in his chest weren’t working on overdrive to keep him cool and functioning anymore.

“Thank you, TS. I really needed that.” he smiled to the wooden soldier.

“No Problem, Old Sport. Here To Help.” The Toy Soldier saluted, standing up, helping Brian up as well, before it went on its merry way.

After that life had continued with only to normal, minimal amount of existential crises from Brian and he was quite happy for it. He would replay parts of the conversation he’d had with The Toy Soldier to make him feel better about himself, which usually worked.

Then, about a week or so later, he got woken up in the middle of the night by a frowning TS. He knew it had stayed behind with Jonny and Ashes, who were playing cards and being mean to their own health, which was something for another day, but he had no clue why it would be here.

“What happened?” he therefore asked, groggily and confused.

“I Am Questioning My Fakeness And I Would Appreciate Input Of Someone Who Has More Understanding Of The Topic Than Ashes Or Jonny.” The Toy Soldier explained.

Immediately Brian was more awake, he sat upright and blinked the sleep away, before he asked: “What caused this?”

“Jonny Insulted Me And I Pretended To Be Upset, Before I Had Realized, I’d Done So. Now I Am Questioning If I Am Even Fake Or If I Am Faking My Fakeness.” it told him.

Brian thought about that for a moment. The Toy Soldier had been there for him during his identity crisis, so he would be there for it. Then he said: “That just means you’ve gotten good at acting, TS.”

“But It Was So Quick, Almost Like It Was A Response.” The Toy Soldier replied.

“Well, some actors start to become so used to playing their role, if they have for a while, that they start thinking and acting like that character, since they absorbed them so much. It is probably the same for you.” Brian reasoned.

“Isn’t That Different? They Already Have Emotions, Those Can Change.” TS tried to debunk Brians argument.

“No, no. You’ve been playing real for centuries now, some reactions were bound to become instinctive after so much time. It’s just a well trained reflex.” Brian was becoming more sure in his thoughts as he went on, “You aren’t about to fall over and sleep or eat or do other real stuff, right? It was just a reflex, like starting to walk when someone does, that doesn’t make you real.”

That seemed to cheer The Toy Soldier up as it chirped: “Thank You, Old Sport. You Are Quite Right, I Have Merely Mastered My Craft.”

“Yeah, you did.” Brian smiled, suppressing a yawn.

“Oh, Right. You Need Sleep. I Should Be Going.” TS said apologetically.

“It’s alright, TS. I don’t mind.” Brian said, but The Toy Soldier was already backing away, saying a quick thanks as it saluted before it disappeared out of the room.

And after that it had become a ritual for one or the other to appear whenever they were sad or not feeling like their reality fit.

Brian learned all the reason The Toy Soldier was fake because every difference made him real, while The Toy Soldier did it for the opposite reasons. And Brian was not going to lie, having TS use him as a case study of what real people did, was pretty fucking validating.

He didn’t know if the other had caught on to the new camaraderie between the two of them and frankly he didn’t care. The tea parties with inedible cookies and the late night talks about philosophy TS would back out of when it got too much by claiming it was something for real people and it was done pretending for the day, made life bearable.

It made life good.

TS could be fake and Brian could be real and both could exist together, because even though they were opposites, no one got it better than the other.

On the days when TS didn’t feel like pretending, it could be fake in Brians presence and he would make sure none of the others messed with it, while on days when reality felt beyond Brians grasp he could rant to it about being real or fake and it would listen and not complain about him making its head hurt.

It was nice, Brian decided, it was nice to be understood.

[diavolodigitale]

The Hitchhiker's Guide to Andromeda Galaxy - pt.3 Havarl

Oof, the chapters are getting longer as it always happens with me. This one, I think, is significantly better than the previous ones if we don’t consider the lame beginning ahahah

Genres: comedy, romance (vaguely), friendship maybe, some philosophy? I really don’t know what to call that.

Pairing: m!Ryder/Evfra

Characters: Ryder, Evfra, Vetra, Jaal

Rating: PG

Size: around 9 pages

Pt.1 - Pt.2 - Pt.3 - Pt.4 ----- All chapters in PDF

       The weather on Havarl was as foggy and gloomy as always. High humidity made it hot and stuffy, so at times Ryder found it hard to breathe, wearing his full set of armor and carrying around all the weapons. The squelching of wet leaves and grass could be heard behind him as his companions made their way forward.

       “I heard that Evrfa is now on Havarl as well,” mentioned Jaal, stepping over a peculiar looking mushroom.

       “I thought he never leaves his sanctuary. Hard to imagine him doing something else besides work,” commented Vetra and proceeded adjusted her rifle so that it didn’t impede her movements.

       Ryder coughed a few times. They were already a few steps away from the research facilities.

       “The Resistance operates on many planets. We need to control the Roekaar activity here, so regular investigations on Havarl are no exceptions,” said Jaal.

       Vetra sighed.

       “Isn’t it crazy how the Resistance grew?” she began somewhat excitedly. “I’ve heard rumors that it used to be just a bunch of small groups of angara fighting off kett. And now you have a complex and highly flexible organization controlling most of the galaxy!”

       “Indeed,” agreed Jaal. “What Evfra did to bring them all together is unimaginable. Even if his approach and methods aren’t unanimously accepted between the angara, his achievements are irrefutable.” Jaal stopped and took a long look at the cloudy dark sky.

       “You seem so fascinated by him and his work,” noted Ryder, giving Jaal a light pat on the back.

       “I respect him, yes. The decisions he has to make every day are a tough burden to carry on your own,”—Jaal took a deep breath, lowered his head and continued—“although, considering he thinks of me as his best soldier, he could have bestowed upon me an unrestricted freedom of choice in any situations.”

       “And a better rank?” asked Ryder, giving the angara a friendly understanding smile.

       “Undoubtedly,” agreed Jaal and nodded.

Vetra checked the time on her omni-tool and looked around to make sure they arrived at the right place.

       “Okay, I’ve got to leave you now. See you here exactly in three hours,” she said. “And no being late. Especially it applies to you, Ryder. Nobody will let us back on the ship without the Pathfinder,” she added strictly.

       “And here I started to think that you really worry about me,” replied Ryder in a sad voice.

       “My mothers always worry about you if that makes you feel better,” said Jaal in a sincere attempt to comfort him.

       “Yes, Jaal, this is exactly what I needed to hear.”

       Jaal headed to one of the local ships stationed on the landing area. He intended to visit his family since the vault on Havarl had just been activated, and the crew of the Tempest had some time to consider their subsequent steps in raising the viability of the planet. Besides, it was a good opportunity to just hang around and have some alone time since always being under pressure and not having enough time for themselves could lead to unwanted aftermath in terms of physical and psychological health, and nobody wanted that, especially being hundreds of years far from home.

      Vetra disappeared in the dense forests, heading in the unknown direction with the unknown purpose. She refused to let the Pathfinder know about her business on the planet, but he reckoned it had something to do with illegal shipments. Nothing special, your usual smuggler stuff.

      And Ryder… Well, he simply made up a reason to come. He had some data waiting to be transferred to the angaran scientist here on Havarl, but it surely wouldn’t take him three hours to do that. Usually, he tried to spend every free minute doing something productive and important, but after rescuing the whole planet it would be fair to give his team and himself a little rest. Unofficially, of course.  

       He decided to spend some time talking to the local researchers. The angaran history and culture was so foreign, yet seemed so captivating to him. Of course, humans already went through the phase of first contact with other races, but nobody had seemed so distant till this moment. Nothing here reminded him of familiar worlds, and it was simply riveting.

      Most of the scientists were happy to share what they knew and even more happy to listen to the information he could provide them with. Despite that, some still preferred to stay away from strangers like the Pathfinder. Their distrust could easily be explained by the strong influence of the Roekaar on this planet. Being here, Ryder was content simply with the fact that nobody tried to shoot him on sight only because of him being an alien.

       Having left the safety of the research station behind, he strolled into dense jungles that covered major part of the planet. He didn’t have any particular purpose in mind apart from exploring a bit while he still had the time.

      Due to the abundance of wildlife, it was practically impossible to take a good look around without being in constant fear for your life, so Ryder tried to approach his expedition with caution.

       “Pathfinder, I detect motion in the bushes in front of you. There appear to be two lifeforms engaged in a fight. Be vigilant,” warned him the voice in his head.

       Trusting SAM unconditionally, Ryder turned on tactical vision on his helmet and indeed saw two figures, one of which looked like an angara, and the other one reminded some kind of an animal, most likely a Challyrion, judging by the silhouette. Recalling reports about unnatural mutations which animals on Havarl had undergone, Ryder took out his shotgun, ready both for fight and flight.

With a sharp motion of his hand, he removed the leaves blocking his field of vision only to see Evfra holding a giant beast by its neck. Startled by Pathfinder’s sudden appearance, he got distracted from the animal, which indeed turned out to be a Challyrion, and it managed to break free and go invisible.  

       “Sorry?” mumbled Ryder, still standing with his shotgun drawn out.

       “Hide your weapon”—Evfra shook off bits of non-existent dust from his clothes—“or you might hurt yourself.”

       Ryder removed his weapon back to the holster and took off his helmet, panting. He rubbed his forehead, trying to wipe away the sweat, but instead leaving a dark line from his dirty glove.

       “What are you d—”

       Evfra interrupted Ryder and made a gesture with his hand for the Pathfinder to follow him. “It is best if we don’t stand here. It may have fled now, but it will soon come back with all its pack.”

       “Seems like we meet awfully often lately,” commented Ryder, following Evfra.

       “Yes, unfortunately,” grunted Evfra.  

       “Really, what were the odds that I’d stumble upon you here when you are on another mission.”

       Ryder tried to keep up with Evfra’s pace, even though it was quite challenging for him. The heat made it hard to breathe and the fact that he didn’t know the surroundings didn’t help either. The Resistance leader, it seemed, knew every tree and every winding of the path, while Ryder stumbled and bumped into everything.

       “Actually, it is my day off,” stated Evfra indifferently.

       “Visiting your family?”

       “I have no family to visit,” without hesitation said the angara with voice still clear and unshaken.

       “Oh… I didn’t… I mean, Jaal came here to see his family, so I just assumed…” Ryder apologetically lowered his head. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to.” He cleared his throat.

       “You didn’t kidnap them, so you have nothing to be sorry for.”

       “Did kett do it?” asked Ryder carefully.

       “There was nobody else to do it. Angara are in no habit of harming their own kind.”

       “Is that why you decided to join the Resistance?” asked Ryder. Actually, this particular question was something that had interested him for a long time.

       “That is why I decided to lead it,” answered Evfra, without giving it a second thought.

       “Seems like we have something in common.”

       Evfra hemmed. He could not see a single thing they had in common.

       “Don’t be so skeptical,” said Ryder, noticing his reaction. “I lost my mom 600 years ago and my dad… Let’s just say, he was supposed to be the Pathfinder, not me.”

       “Jaal mentioned you have a sister.” Evfra began walking more slowly, trying to adjust to Ryder’s speed.

       “Yeah,” simply replied Ryder.

       “And where is she know?” continued Evfra, sensing something must be wrong with this topic.

      “Lying in the cryo pod on the Nexus, waiting until I find at least one place appropriate for a new beginning of a human race.” Ryder stopped in front of a massive tree with long crooked branches. He took off his glove to feel its gnarled desiccated texture. “You know, being in a coma, she now talks even less than you. Really doesn’t provide much moral support, huh?”

       Evfra watched the Pathfinder stand before the tree, illuminated by the bluish light emitted by plants endemic to this planet. The facial expression the Pathfinder had reminded him of that one James showed on Kadara when hearing his careless remark about other human Pathfinders.

      Unlike humans, angara not only expressed their emotions freely, but were also able to sense true feelings of others, even in spite of poor manifestation. Evfra mostly expressed anger, impatience and persistence, but that didn’t mean he didn’t know the other ones.

      Misery, despair, grief. He had seen it all long before.

      Not being a master of leading fruitful conversations, he tried to change the topic as best as he could.

      “Was it beautiful on Earth?” he asked, seemingly genuinely interested.

      Ryder made an effort to pull himself together, put on the glove, and turned his reddened face to Evfra.

      “It was. No matter where you went, all places were different. It took years to discover all things that inhabited it and to understand their purpose. I cannot really do justice describing life on Earth, because it is impossible to turn into words.”

      “It is hard to believe such a place existed.”

      “I hope it still does,” said Ryder, and a faint smile appeared on his face. “Being here, sometimes I like to imagine returning to Earth and seeing how everything has changed.”

      “You have already been to some “golden worlds”, as you call them, in our cluster. Did you like any of them?”

      “Well, most of them don’t look the way we expected…”—Ryder rubbed his nose clumsily and gave Evfra another barely noticeable smile—“but even if we imagine that they are habitable… I don’t know. I just don’t think I’ll ever see the place that’s able to make me feel the same way Earth did.”

      “Really?”—some kind of playful air appeared around Evfra; Ryder had never seen him like that before—“Follow me then.”

      James didn’t understand the sudden change, but decided to give in to this strange challenge. He followed Evfra closely, carefully stepping over weird plants and avoiding curious insects hitting him right into his face after approaching way too close. This time the tempo of their walk wasn’t as fast, so it was easier for him to follow.

      They didn’t say a word, but this silence was not at all burdening. Ryder listened to how the wilderness sounded, observed how the Havarl jungles lived and transformed in real time. They didn’t look like anything he had ever seen before yet felt so intimate and not at all threatening, even though they should have.

       Ryder was thinking about how he could prolong this moment and never come back to the Tempest, when they approached an enormous dark wall. It was part of the remnant construction, the likes of which were scattered all around the planet. The cracks in it were glowing with blue and turquoise light, adding to the gleam created by fluorescent plants and fungi.

       “Ready for a quick climb?” asked Evfra the dumbfounded Pathfinder.

       “Only if there’s a safe way down,” said Ryder, although intending to climb up there anyway. It wasn’t every day that he got the opportunity to experience something Evfra willingly wanted to share.

       Evfra started ascending first, showing where it was better to put a foot or a hand. Ryder watched attentively and repeated every step.

      The remnant constructs were as solid and firm as they could be, so there was almost no chance something would collapse under him. Getting used to the overall rhythm of their movements, he began finding his own way up, climbing differently from Evfra.

      Repetitive actions made him dive deep into his thoughts about the remnants and the role they played in the survival of this planet. He couldn’t grasp even the smallest impact they really had on the history and development of life here, and it scared him. Facing such a strong and incomprehensible force made him doubt his most significant success as well as the future of his endeavors.  

       Engulfed into his reflections, Ryder didn’t notice one piece of the construct that was about to fall out and grabbed it. His hand slipped, weighed down by the piece now detached from the wall.

As soon as Evfra heard rustling and swarming under him, he looked down only to see Ryder pathetically hanging on one hand.

       “There is no rest beside you,” he sighed and lowered himself to grab Ryder by his loose arm and pull him up.

       “Thanks,” mumbled the Pathfinder ablush. It really bugged him that whatever he did in front of Evfra led to him embarrassing himself.

       “We are not far, hold on for a little longer.” Evfra’s voice almost sounded comforting and Ryder though that it was unusual for him to be like that.

       After a few more minutes of climbing, they finally reached the top of the construct. Evfra made it up first and offered the Pathfinder his hand once again. Ryder did not attempt to refuse.

       “If you wanted to show me the view from above, we could have just used the Mithrava Ascent,” stated Ryder, overcoming the last obstacle while tightly gripping Evfra’s hand. Having to experience such a treacherous way up, he now wanted to complain a bit to feel better.

       “It is not quite the same. The fog at Mithrava makes it hard to see the real picture. Here the horizon is clear and… there is not a single soul.”

       Red and inhaling jerkily, Ryder got down on his knees to give some rest to his tired limbs and to catch his breath.

       “Take a look,” said Evfra, taking a seat beside Ryder.

       James gazed up slowly and got lost in the open skies. He saw hundreds of stars gleaming through semi-transparent clouds and a huge red Gas Giant taking up a great part of the horizon. It seemed like beyond those starts and clouds he could see other clusters, other galaxies yet unnamed and undiscovered. Beneath the skies lied a sea of trees, living and breathing, the leaves of which whispered in the wind. Dark and bottomless, it reflected the lights of the stars in the glistening surface of plants. From the height he was on, they reminded James of fireflies.

       A strong blow of wind cooled his heated face and made a mess of his short hair. He inhaled calmly, taking his time to fill the lungs with fresh night air, and exhaled. Now there was no place in his mind for the Tempest, for colonies, outposts, and diplomatic fuss. No place for exiles, kett, and all the people they have lost.

       “Here you can pray to your gods. Even if they stayed in your homeworld, they will still hearken,” uttered Evfra under his breath.

       James looked at the other remnant constructs and monoliths towering in the distance. He did not know whom to pray. Everything here was created by someone, but he was alien to this place. For him, there were no gods and no masters, only a vague purpose ahead, unshaped and remote. Far from home, he did not know what destiny awaited his people, but even though he would constantly carry the responsibility for his whole species, now it did not seem that arduous. Now it became an opportunity to outline his own future, intertwined with his people and many others who depended on him.

       “Is it close to how good you’ve felt on Earth?” asked Evfra, his voice still low and quiet.

       “Not even remotely,” said Ryder, smiling to himself. “It is much, much better.”

       He didn’t know for how long they continued to sit there. Frankly speaking, he did not care. He felt like being there at that moment was much more decisive than fighting off hordes of enemies or planning the next offensive.

       When they finally got down, the dreary overgrown forests of Havarl met them with the same apathetic attitude. Nothing altered down here, all the changes remained at the top of the construct and in Ryder’s mind.

       The leader of the Resistance and the Pathfinder exchanged a few words on their way back to the research station, but overall didn’t talk much. Ryder seemed more composed and reserved than ever.

       Being about fifty meters away from the place Ryder was supposed to meet his teammates at, Evfra looked at him one last time and said, “We are quite similar after all, Ryder,” before going his own way.

       “I already told you, my name is—”

       “I remember, no need to repeat,” he threw negligently over his shoulder without turning around.

       The Pathfinder quickly reached the point of destination and was greeted by peacefully snoring Jaal, who leaned on a nearby wall, and nervous Vetra frantically walking back and forth.

       “What. The hell. Is wrong with you?!” she yelled, approaching him and furiously waving her hand. “Three hours! We had to meet in three hours! Not six! That’s twice as much, Ryder, twice!”

       Jaal suddenly woke up because of Vetra’s wailing and rubbed his eyes.

       “Oh, Ryder, finally. Vetra already wanted to go look for you, but I assured her that if you’re lost in the Havarl jungle, there’s nothing she can do about it.”

       Being in high spirits, Ryder laughed off all the questions and inquiries and headed in the direction of the Tempest.

       “Come on, guys, let’s get going,” he appealed to his crewmembers. “The next time we’re in Vortex, drinks are on me.”

       “You are just unbearable, do you know that?” asked Vetra. She was still annoyed no matter what he said in his defense.

       “Yeah, I’ve heard that a few times.”

      “Ask Peebee to go with you when you plan on disappearing for a few hours, she definitely won’t worry about you being eaten by a giant Eiroch or kidnapped by the Roekaar. I am sick and tired, so don’t you even come crawling…”

[everythingisgayandnothinghurts]

Secrets, Secrets are No Fun

This was from a prompt that Carlos got a drunken piercing and decided to hide it for a little while from TK.  Cue the longest week of TK’s week as his mind goes to much worse places.  

The only light they had was from the TV mounted on the opposite wall with the volume turned down low.  TK much preferred the view of his boyfriend’s skin than whatever could be playing on the screen.  He had a hand around the back of Carlos’s neck and his tongue was happily sweeping against the roof of the latino’s mouth to make the other man shiver pleasantly.  It was early enough that they could spend some quality time together before it was time for bed.  His hand slowly moved lower to slip underneath Carlos’s shirt to stroke the soft, toned skin of his stomach when their kiss was gently broken unexpectedly and Carlos was looking at him apologetically.

“Sorry, Carino,” He said softly with one last peck to his lips.  “I’m really sore from my shift today.  I think I’m going to take something for it and head to bed.”

He was gone before TK could think about protesting.  He sat on the couch a bit dumbfounded and unable to process how weird that was.  Carlos had been up to taking himi apart when he had three broken ribs a few months ago and now with some muscle aches he was cutting them off before things could really start to heat up?  TK understood, but he still thought it was pretty strange behavior.  He moodily went back to watching the show playing on TV, the dismissal still rubbing him the wrong way even though it hadn’t been meant to sting.  It wasn’t until a commercial played with someone featured that looked a lot like Alex that he figured out why this was bothering him so much.  

He’d seen this before and it had taken him a minute to realize.

This is what Alex had done for months to him before the failed proposal.  The entire time he was cheating he found any excuse possible to slip away from him when they became intimate.  It was always something believable enough that he couldn’t argue, but still rather strange.  He was put aside and dismissed until Alex had no choice but to get rid of him in pieces.  It made his blood freeze when he realized and something heavy settled on his chest.   Alex had been the reason for his overdose.  He had almost died.  He couldn’t survive that kind of pain again.  It had left him empty for months and he was barely starting to truly be himself.  

The mere thought of having that kind of pain again made his breathing quicken.

He felt absolutely ridiculous at the tears slipping down his cheeks.  He knew this wasn’t like last time.  Carlos would never even think about cheating on him.  Their relationship was true, real and steady.  TK was falling in love again and this time he was completely safe with Carlos holding his heart.  He was being awful for even thinking this was the same thing.

Then again, hadn’t he thought the same thing when Alex pulled away?

~~

“Are we really back to this, Strand?” Judd’s voice rang out across the locker room and this was really the worst day he could have picked to start a fight.  Carlos had been avoiding him for a week now and his paranoia was getting the best of him and he was so damn angry.  He was angry at himself for once again being too afraid to just ask Carlos if he was cheating, and he was angry at the world for having this happen yet again.  Why couldn’t he just be happy?  Why was that too much to ask?

“Get off my back,” TK snapped in return as he shoved his gear into his locker.  He wanted to be grateful the shift was almost over, but then he had to go home and face Carlos’s weird behavior and have his mind run wild at the possibilities.  His mind had decided Carlos was cheating on him the way Alex had before, but he had no proof in the slightest.  Carlos never went anywhere besides the police station and home as far as he knew.  Except one night last week he had gone out with Michelle to that same gay club they had taken Paul to drink and have a good time.  TK had had no problem letting Carlos let off some steam with his boyfriend while he was waiting at home with aspirin and a glass of water before tucking a drunk Carlos into bed.  Was that when Carlos had slept with someone else?  DId he want a guy he could go out and have fun with instead of a guy riddled with problems that couldn’t take a sip of alcohol?  

“I’ll get off your back when you get it through your thick skull how to follow an order,” Judd folded his arms across his chest with a mixture of disappointment and anger on his face.  TK knew he had a tendency to take much greater risks when his mental health was suffering and this week he was finding it hard to deal with anything.  He was so scared Carlos was cheating, or had cheated, that he wasn’t sleeping and therefore had been having panic attacks all week.  He was exhausted and missed when everything was peaceful in his small world.   He had run into a fire against a direct order from Judd, and then his dad as well.  The building hadn’t been stable and TK had gone in anyways to save the last civilian inside.  It had been a heroic act, but also a very stupid one that had ignored orders.  “You could have been killed!”

“Well, if I had then you wouldn’t have to put up with someone not listening to you.”  TK knew that Judd was still suffering silently with his own problems and his offhand comment about dying on a call was a low blow, but he couldn’t find the energy to care.  

“Man, come on,” Judd pleaded with him.  “Don’t be like that.  We are just looking out for you.  I know you knew that building was compromised.  I wasn’t telling you anything you didn’t already know.  Why would you run into something like that?  I thought you were past the stage of being a spoiled brat.”

TK had to fight against a sob at the light jab that really meant nothing.  He knew he had started this fight and that Judd’s comment was only out of frustration and not of any true malice.  Alex had called him a brat when they would fight constantly.  He always teased him for his dad spoiling him and being his favorite back in New York.  There had just been too many reminders of Alex’s manipulative behavior this week and this was one jab he couldn’t stomach.  

“Kid, talk to me,” Judd’s voice was much softer now as a hand came to his shoulder to stop his path to the showers.  “What’s going on, little brother?  You’ve been off all week.”

“I think Carlos is cheating on me,” TK broke down and told the first person other than himself what he was terrified of.  “He’s been acting weird and pushing me away all week long.  This is how my ex acted for months before he told me he found someone else.  I can’t go through it again.  I can’t handle it.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Judd brought him into a light hug when it was obvious TK’s insubordination was more out of upset than anything.  “Carlos would never cheat on you, I mean that.  He’s not that kind of guy.  He’s crazy about you.”

“I thought that about Alex too,” TK said miserably as he swiped at his eyes and sniffed a few times.  The truth was he would survive Carlos cheating on him, but that kind of pain terrified him.  

“He knows he’d be castrated between your Dad and I if he even thought about cheating on you, kiddo,” Judd teased with a ruffle of his hair.  When TK glanced up he saw the other man’s eyes filled with sympathy and compassion.  “We’ve got your back no matter what, but I really don’t think he would ever even think about it.”

“I’m sorry about today,” TK muttered with his cheeks heating up.  “I act stupid when I have personal shit going on.  It’s a thing that I’m not exactly proud of.”

“You’ll make me grey before I’m forty I swear,” Judd patted him on the back a few times before giving his shoulder a squeeze and letting TK get on with his shower before he would head home.  He really had to talk to Carlos before things got out of hand more than they already had.  He knew the conversation wouldn’t change whatever the truth was.  Who didn’t love living in ignorance sometimes though?

~~~

TK had had the day off and he spent the whole thing pacing around Carlos’s house and psyching himself up for a conversation that made his stomach disappear.  He had to do it tonight and get it over with.  His stuff was already packed up, what little he had acquired over the last few months, and if the case was Carlos had found someone out he would calmly walk out and pick himself up again.  He would not tear himself apart if the worst case scenario was true.  His dad still needed him around and that would have to be enough to keep him strong.  

The headlights swept across the front window and TK sat on the couch with his knee jiggling impatiently as he waited for Carlos to come inside.  He ached for the days when those headlights had him stripping his clothes with a smirk on his face.  It had been ten long days since Carlos had hinted at wanting anything more than a few kisses from him.  Their whole relationship wasn’t about sex, but TK definitely felt closer being physically intimate with a partner.  

“TK?” Carlos closed the front door with a fond smile and took off his shoes.  “I’m so glad you’re here.  I’ve had a long day and seeing  you has made everything else worth it honestly.  Want to order some dinner?”

“Yeah, our usual pizza?” TK was glad for the distraction when the sight of Carlos made his throat tighten.  It was one thing to think of the most amazing man he knew cheating, but seeing those kind eyes and imagining them looking at anyone else the same way had his heart breaking.  

“You alright?” Carlos’s voice softened and of course the world’s best boyfriend would know when he wasn’t okay.  He couldn’t take the kindness right now.  If Carlos was going to break his heart then he needed to just get it over with.  

“Are you cheating on me?” TK’s voice shook horribly as he finally got out the question that had been bothering him for over a week.  He was proud he held his tears back as they instinctively wanted to fall.

“What?  Am I what?” Carlos’s look of shock seemed genuine enough and suddenly TK was thrown back to when he had accused Alex of the same and the waves of anger that followed.  Turns out he was right in the end, but he was afraid he had made Carlos angry at the accusation of something so horrible.  Could he ever understand that he was being judged by another man who had wronged him?  Did Carlos understand that TK was still barely held together with tape and glue after putting himself back together?

“I’m sorry,’ TK mumbled.  “I’m being stupid.”

“Hey, love, look at me,” Carlos’s hand came to cup his cheek as he forced their eyes to meet.  This time he couldn’t hold the tears back.  “I am so sorry for whatever I did to make you think that.  I would never do that to you.”

“You haven’t wanted to be with me for ten days,” TK said shyly as he nuzzled the hand on his cheek.  

Whatever reaction he expected it wasn’t for Carlos to turn the darkest shade of red he had ever seen and start swearing in Spanish under his breath.  

“Carlos?” TK was confused now and wondered what was actually going on.  That reaction wasn’t one of guilt so maybe his fears were as unfounded as Judd had told him they were.  Maybe his anxiety bran was thankfully wrong this time and had blown all of this out of proportion.  

“Dios mio,” Carlos muttered as he stripped off his shirt slowly and TK couldn’t miss the wince when he did so.  “I did this and I was too embarrassed to show you until it was healed.”

TK followed the vague gesture to his boyfriend’s chest and couldn’t miss the red and inflamed skin there.  He looked closer and saw a shimmer of silver and realized a ring was framing Carlos’s right nipple.  A fucking ring was sitting right there and had been the reason for so much grief.  One barely suppressed giggle was all it took before TK was laughing harder than he had in weeks and having to lean on the back of the couch to keep him upright.  The red deepened on Carlos’s cheeks as his boyfriend crossed his arms and looked away.  

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” TK gasped out as he tried to reign in his laughter and try to figure out what was going on.  “When the hell did that happen?”

“The night I went drinking with Michelle,” Carlos muttered   “Drunk me is a complete idiot and thought this was a good idea.  I thought you might hate it, but I didn’t take it out in case you liked it but then I wanted it to look better before I showed it to you.”  Carlos sighed a long suffering sigh before his brow furrowed and he looked at TK with a level look.  “Why would you ever think I was cheating?”

“It’s what my ex did,” TK replied, his mood sobering as quickly as it had broken down in laughter.  “When he was two timing me he pushed me away for weeks before that and called me crazy when I mentioned something was wrong.  I’m sorry I assumed the worst.”

“I’m so sorry,” Carlos came close, pressing a kiss to his cheek.  “That must have been awful for you.”

“Work hasn’t loved me this week.” TK grinned at him and felt the tension that had gathered in his stomach finally leave.  He happily wrapped his arms around Carlos’s waist and looked thoughtfully at the piercing next to his line of sight.  “I think drunk Carlos has some pretty good ideas.  The piercing suits you.”

“That’s all that matters is what you think.” Carlos hugged him tightly and TK surged onto his toes to kiss Carlos deeply like he hadn’t had a chance to all week.  

“We can have some real fun with that,” TK whispered against Carlos’s lips as he led him back to the bedroom.  He was planning some pleasurable torture for the week he had just endured due to a tiny piece of metal.  

[thebestestboyo]

How Remus Started Working For Patton: Part Three

Masterpost

Tw: eating? I mean it mentions fries/Remus being Remus/Swearing/Panic attack

After these nights out, Remus usually enjoyed the feeling of being in control of his body. But this time, all he felt was sore. He had forgot all the stuff he did before he decided to flirt with a gang member. Several of which left bruises.

"I knew I shouldn't have picked a fight with that seagull."

"Which one is it that you hate again?" Virgil piped up from his spot on the couch, one of his earbuds out to listen for Remus. Ree couldn't see much of his face from how his dark bangs covered his eyes, the roots beginning to return to their natural blonde.

"That one with the black markings on it's back. It has a personal vendetta against me, I can FEEL IT."

"Or maybe you just keep provoking it? I keep telling you to stop trying to steal it's french fries, it's unsanitary, and, the french fries are cold and those are gross."

"But cold french fries are my favoriteeeeee."

"Then get some that aren't from a deranged seagull?"

"Ugh. That's no challenge though!" He hopped over the back of the couch, collapsing over Virg's legs. "I need to feel the rush of running away from an angry flock! Natural instincts! We as humans were made to hunt!"

"Not in this day and age. Species develop over time, and as far as I can remember, you can get french fries at any fast food joint." It was clear Virgil was humoring him, prodding at his face. "Though, I suppose it's better than you chasing after people for their french fries. I remember you used to do that when we were younger."

"Ugh, I would, but I got away with so much more things when I was small. Nowadays it's less like 'oh a rambunctious boy!' and more like 'what are you doing??? Why are you wearing a toga covered in marmalade and trying to take my fries?'"

Snickering, Virgil merely tweaked Remus's nose, before turning serious. Ree had expected this coming, it wasn't like Virg to let things go that easily. "As much as I love discussing how much of a gremlin you are, I still wanna talk to you about last night."

"Ughhhh but we were having such a nice timeeeeee."

"Remus."

"Fine. Its not like we can change anything about it! It already happened! And I got this weird-ass earring from it which may have brought me into a cult or whatever. And now I have to wear a different earring in the new piercing and clean it because otherwise will get infected!"

"..." Virgil merely raised an eyebrow, not amused at Remus's usual shenanigans.

"Okay I know I'm not taking this seriously, but come on. You have piercings. You know how new piercings are."

"This is serious though! What if they're planning to kidnap you or something??? What do we do then??"

This whole matter was clearly bothering him, and when Virgil got too stressed, it didn't exactly do wonders for his mental health.

"Hey. Its gonna be alright. Let's just..." Remus wracked his brain for something that might soothe him, finally coming upon a phrase he remembered Logan using when he was stuck on one of his experiments. "Think things through logically?"

Surprisingly, it did not end in Remus's ass getting kicked, and instead on a quiet Virgil, who simply nodded as he messed with his earbuds, trying to keep calm.

"So. What do we know."

"We know that these are dangerous people who know where we live."

"Ok, and we also know one of them is an absolute candied vescular organ!"

"You don't know for a fact that they're a sweetheart Remus." He wasn't even thrown off by Ree calling it that, clearly more anxious than he originally thought.

"I do! He was very..." Remus tried to think back to some of the phrases Roman used, since he couldn't use his own and have it sound good. "Charming. If you will."

"Oh boy, this gang member must be something if he has you borrowing words."

"Hey! I can use words like charming! It's not borrowing!"

"Uh huh sure. Next you'll be saying-"

He was cut off by the buzzing of their apartment's old doorbell, an outdated thing that sounded like drunk and angry hornets. Virgil absolutely hated it, resorting to knocking if he ever got locked out, while Remus delighted in it, annoying the other with the horrid sound whenever he came home.

"Who the fuck could that be?" Curious, Virgil gently pushed Remus off of him, going up to the door and attempting to see through the peephole, even though the glass was cloudy and cracked.

Ree saw him begin to fuss with his headphone wires, mouth pursing as he began to overthink who was on the other side. This always happened when they weren't expecting someone, and even when they were, it wasn't much better unless Remus got up and checked whoever it was first.

"Don't worry Virgy! I'll get the door."

"Oh thank god."

Unlatching the lock, he made sure to have Virgil move out of the way, joking that 'if you're standing right behind it, I might make your body into a pancake!' He was expecting their landlord, or perhaps a neighbor, and maybe even Logan or his brother, though that was doubtful. What he most certainly didn't expect, was-

"Patton?"

Pat was standing beside...someone? He wasn't exactly sure, but this guy was pretty tall, even considering Remus's own height. Tall, a little lanky, but there was something in Ree's instincts that told him that he'd lose to this guy in a fight, not even including that splotchy looking scar on his face.

But back to Patton, why was he here?

"Sorry for the sudden visit Remus, I just wanted to make sure you were doing okay after last night." Pat was fiddling with his hands as he spoke, delicate fingers picking at stray pieces of lint or something.

"Oh! Yeah, I had a bit of a hangover earlier, but otherwise I'm as right as a guy without his left hand!"

Oops. Tall dude was looking a little more sour at that. Maybe he should-

"Ha! Is it because he's got nothing left?" Patton giggled, cheeks flushing a little at his clever pun.

Ok, scratch that, whatever keeps Pat smiling was worth whatever that other guy was cooking up. To his surprise though, tall bro seemed pleased, glancing between them.

"Remus...." Virgil called from inside, voice shaking. That was a bad sign.

As much as he wanted to figure out the mystery man, and to talk with Pat, he knew that if he left Virgil alone right now, it wouldn't be good. Leaving the door open for the other two, he turned to see Virgil attempting to ground himself at the thought of these two strangers.

"Hey. Hey tarantula. Its all cool. Is touch good right now?"

A nod was the only response he got, which was better than nothing. Remus lifted Virgil up into his arms, letting him rest his head on his chest to hear his heartbeat.

"Can you try and match my breathing? 4-7-8 right?"

Another nod, and the clench of Virgil holding onto Remus's wrist.

It took a while, but eventually Virgil was calm enough to mumble to be let down from Remus's arms. Vee clearly wanted to rest after that, so he took him to his room, letting him lie down on the mattress before he went back to the other two, who he had forgotten to take care of beforehand.

"I had to take care of him." He wasn't about to apologise for watching after Vee, even if the big guy expected him to. "How about we talk outside? I wanna let him get some quiet after that."

Patton seemed stunned at this stark change, but nodded, and let Remus lock up the apartment before leading them down to the complex's garden. The other one didn't say anything, just wordlessly followed after.

When they were finally settled down in the outside seats, Patton burst out immediately. "I'm so sorry! We didn't mean to make your friend scared!"

"He'll be ok. He's never been especially good with new people. You're okay though Pat and...you are?"

Turning his head to glance over at the other guy, he was surprised to find that his eyes were different colors, one more of a dark brown, and the other yellow.

"Demetrius. But you know me as Dee."

"Ohhhhh you're that guy! That guy who lifted me!"

He seemed surprised that Remus remembered him, or maybe just that he wasn't pointing out the obvious here, that because of Dee and Pat, Remus was apperantly part of their gang.

"Yes, I am...that guy."

Patton stopped fussing with his overalls to look over at Dee, perking up at that answer. Did he even know how cute he was?? Sure, Virgil had said that he and this Dee guy were part of a gang, but he did not have the rights to be so impossibly pretty.

"You're probably wondering why you now have a tag in your ear, am I correct?" Dee cut into Remus's thoughts with his voice, stern.

"I assumed it wasn't just a kink thing." Winking at him, Ree leaned back against his chair, legs propped up on the table.

"No, it was not a 'kink thing.' It was to give you clearance into our home of sorts. Since Patton clearly-"

Remus couldn't tell exactly, but he though he saw Patton jabbed his arm into Dee's side? Or something?

"-wanted to talk to you more."

"Oh! Alright. I have no idea where you live."

"In hindsight, we should have told you about it. But first-" Dee pulled down the collar of his shirt, showing the beginning of a tattoo. An anaconda, wrapping around his neck and disappearing into his shirt. "-I assume you know who we are."

"Dee! That really isn't necessary!" Patton frowned, pinching at Dee's cheek like a mother would to a naughty child.

"We need to make sure he doesn't tell anyone!"

Rolling his eyes, Pat leaned over the small table, clasping Remus's hands in his. "We're not exactly on the police's good side you could say. We'd really appreciate it if you didn't tell them where we live?"

Was he making puppy eyes? And, were those sparkles on his cheeks or was Remus just seeing things??? He couldn't tell, the image of dissapointing Patton was too much for him either way. "Yeah, yeah sure."

"Wonderful!!!"

The sight of his smile was dizzying, god it felt more intoxicating than the strongest drug. Was this that heaven Roman was always going off about?

Dee cleared his throat, throwing Ree off again. How many times was he gonna interrupt his inner monologues??? "If you wouldn't mind, I'd like to hurry this moment up. I have a meeting later, and watching you two stare into each other's eyes isn't the best use of my time."

"Dee!"

"Not much of a voyager huh?" Remus wasted no time clearing the air, attempting to ignore the way his own face was beginning to turn red.

"Considering it's my brother, no."

While both him and Virgil had confirmed it, it was difficult for Remus to accept it. There was a couple similarities, sure, the way that their jaws sloped into soft lines, their hands, both worn with use, and their curly brown hair. But the glint in their eyes was different, not to mention the scars that seemed to line Dee more frequently than Pat, at least from what Remus could see.

"Can I grab my phone?"

"...grab your roommate too."

"What?"

"So he knows where you are."

"I'll see if he's okay, but it's not a guarantee."

Surprisingly, Virgil was already calm enough to answer Remus. "What the fuck would they want with me???"

"The big guy, Dee, said it's so you know where I am. I guess they'll want to suck out our brains together!"

"...as if they'd get anything from you. Your head is empty."

It was surprising that Virgil didn't fight about it, by his reaction earlier, Ree was almost certain that he wouldn't come.

The four met back up downstairs, Patton already chatting up a storm with Remus, leaving Virgil and Dee walking beside each other.

"What do you want with Remus?" Hushed, Virgil watched his friend and...Patton, walking ahead, the two already gushing to each other about who knows what.

"Oh I want nothing with Remus. My brother on the other hand has taken a liking to him."

"And that's enough to straight up make him part of your gang???"

Virgil couldn't believe this guy. Who the fuck does that??? Shoving his hands into his hoodie pocket, he continued staring ahead, not wanting to have to look at him.

"Well, I'd like to see you try and resist him. He can be very...persuasive."

"Oh am I gonna have to worry about him threatening me too?"

Demetrius (he felt weird thinking of him with the informal title of 'Dee,' when he already hated this guy's guts) seemed to bristle at that, and from the corner of his eye Virgil could tell he was glaring at him.

"Patton would never threaten someone!"

"Listen, considering your guys' jobs, I wouldn't be surprised if he did."

"Well if you're such a smart-ass, then why did you come along?"

"To make sure my friend didn't turn up on the news by the end of the day, why else?"

Demetrius shrugged off his leather jacket as they all walked, probably due to the afternoon heat. Virgil snuck a look over at him, about to make fun of him before he noticed that Oh Lord He Was Fit. He looked so lanky before though??? Where did those arms come from???

Demetrius didn't seem to notice Virgil's stare, or if he did, he ignored it, tying the jacket around his waist. "I doubt he'd be dead. You on the other hand, would not fare well under the gang."

"Oh you think I'd be useless???"

"No, just your pretty-boy ass would get torn to shreds."

"Oh so now you're saying I'm pretty." It was mocking, but he couldn't help a twinge of curiosity. Demetrius was handsome after all, even if he was a gang leader. But that was no excuse for him to fantasize! He probably killed people!

"Wha- no!!!"

"Mmhm sure."

The two continued bickering behind Patton and Remus's backs, the odd group traversing the city until they reached...well...home.

It certainly was going to be interesting...