#Dunno if the wind changed or if he just got a bit overwhelmed | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

theres-an-impulstor-among-us · 4 years ago

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Hey so, you know that whole 'Red's get innate bloodlust' and how Jimmy doesn't reaaallllyyy seem to have that? what if for some reason or other, maybe it's a glitch in the system or a trick of the gods, All of Jimmy's bloodlust and rage are actually felt by Scott. Green life Scott. ;) do with this what you will <3

oh my gosh this was so much fun to write! such an interesting concept!! :D

…

Grian is sorting through some chests in his house when he hears someone enter the room. Glancing up, he’s a little surprised to see Scott standing in the doorway, hands clasped together awkwardly. “Hey, Grian,” he says slowly. “Sorry for intruding. Have you got a minute?”

Closing the chest, Grian nods and stands up. “Yeah, sure. What’s up?”

“Um…” Scott leans back against the wall, arms folded. “So… you created this server, right?”

“I did, yeah.”

“Then hopefully you’ll have an answer to this,” says Scott. “I know there’s supposed to be this thing where red lifers feel some kind of bloodlust towards greens and yellows, but Jimmy doesn’t seem to be feeling it at all. We tried to activate it a couple of times but we got nothing. Then… there was kind of a… an incident.”

“Incident?” echoes Grian. “What kind of incident?”

“An attempted murder kind of incident,” Scott says slowly, “which Joel was lucky to escape with his life from.”

Grian cocks his head curiously. “What triggered it?”

“I’ve no idea. As far as I recall, everything’s fine one second, then suddenly, Joel’s on the ground bleeding from the neck. It was absolutely terrifying.”

“Oh, geez…” Grian frowns. “What was Jimmy doing right before it happened?”

“What?” Scott stares at him for a moment. “No, not Jimmy. Me.”

Grian’s eyes widen. “What? You?”

Scott silently holds out his hands, showing the spots of dried blood on them.

“Oh my god… Is that…?”

“Yeah. It’s Joel’s.” Scott takes a deep breath. “What do I do, Grian”?

“Firstly, tell me what happened,” Grian urges. “Tell me everything.”

“Okay.”

…

“It’s not working,” Jimmy complains. “I know I said I don’t want to feel bloodthirsty like the other reds but it’s weird that I’m the ONLY one who doesn’t seem to feel it. I don’t wanna be the only one.”

Scott gives his friend a thoughtful look. “This is bizarre. We’ve tried everything I can think of and yet it still hasn’t happened.”

“Hey, guys.”

The two look up to find Joel sauntering up the hill towards them. “How did you get in here?” Scott asks. “The gate’s locked.”

“I broke through the wall.”

Scott sighs. “‘Course you did. What do you want?”

“I just wanted to come up here and see what you’re up to,” says Joel. “I could see you from over there and what you were doing looked really strange.”

“We’ve just been trying to activate Jimmy’s red life bloodlust,” Scott says. “For some reason, he doesn’t feel the same urge to hurt or kill people as other red-lifers do.”

Joel grins. “Does that mean you don’t feel the urge to attack me when I do this?”

He shoves Jimmy, who stumbles back and almost trips over his own feet.

“Don’t do that,” Scott snaps, reaching out to steady his friend. “That’s mean.”

“Oh, am I being mean?” Joel proceeds to push Jimmy again, actually knocking him down this time. “Sorry about that.”

As Jimmy slowly climbs back to his feet, Scott moves in front of him, a steely glare on his face. “Joel. Stop.”

“I’ll stop if he proves he’s worthy of the red name and attacks me.”

“W-Worthy?” splutters Jimmy. “I never asked to be red!”

“I need you to leave, Joel,” Scott says firmly. “Before one of us does something we regret.”

Still grinning, Joel pushes Scott.

Something inside Scott snaps. Overwhelming rage surges through him. Teeth bared, he tackles Joel to the ground and rakes his nails down Joel’s neck, the urge to maim and kill only growing stronger as blood leaks from the cuts he’s creating.

His hands close around Joel’s neck.

“SCOTT!” comes Jimmy’s terrified scream from behind him. “SCOTT, STOP!”

Scott freezes.

Taking advantage of this, Joel sinks his fist into Scott’s stomach and shoves him aside, before scrambling to his feet and taking off into the trees.

Winded by the hit to his stomach, Scott shakily rolls onto his side, intending to push himself to his feet, but freezes again when he spots the blood on his hands.

“Scott!” gasps Jimmy, dropping to his knees beside his friend. “Are you okay?! What happened back there?!”

Scott can’t answer.

He has no idea.

…

“I sent Jimmy home and came straight here,” Scott finishes. “Grian, I-I was terrified. I still am. Why is this happening to me?”

Grian has been listening to Scott’s story with concern and interest. “Aside from being kinda horrifying, that’s also pretty interesting. I mean, you’re definitely the only non-red experiencing that kind of bloodlust. I’ve seen it in Scar and even Skizzle before but never Jimmy or a non-red.”

“I guess the first question would be why I’M the one out of the two of us being affected by this,” says Scott, “considering Jimmy’s the red lifer, not me.”

“Exactly. The only thing I can think of that’s more unusual about Jimmy’s case than the other reds’ is that Jimmy went from green to red a lot faster. Normally, it takes a little while for the server to register the change in a green going to yellow and a yellow going to red, but in Jimmy’s case, he went from green to red so quickly that maybe the server glitched and didn’t fully complete his transformation to red.”

“What, and you think the red-life bloodlust thing went to me by accident instead of Jimmy?” Scott asks.

Grian shrugs. “It’s a possibility. Honestly, I can’t really think of anything else it could be. I’ll do some investigating but it’s highly likely I won’t be able to undo this.”

“What do you mean?”

“I dunno if it’ll carry through to your yellow life too but it seems that this is something you might be stuck with for your whole time on this server. It might stop when you’re yellow, it might stop when you’re red, or it might get twice as bad. We’ll only know when we get to that point.”

Scott sighs quietly and glances away. “I was afraid of that. But what if I kill someone? I’m not supposed to do that; I’m not red yet. Or worse… Grian, what if I hurt Jimmy?”

“I don’t know, I’m afraid,” replies Grian reluctantly. “Are you gonna tell him?”

Scott hesitates. “I… don’t know at the moment. I don’t want him to worry about me.”

“Well, I can tell you from experience that bloodlust won’t discriminate between friend and enemy. All I can advise is for you to be really careful. As you know, he’s red; you can’t afford to slip up even once or you might lose him.”

“Trust me, I know,” Scott snaps. “That’s not very helpful, Grian.”

“Well, I’m sorry, but I’ve never encountered this before. Like I said, I WILL investigate. But you might have to prepare yourself for a new reality.”

After a moment, Scott shakes his head. “Sorry, Grian. I appreciate your help.”

Grian moves closer and places his hand on Scott’s shoulder. “I’ll do what I can.”

“Thank you.”

…

When Scott gets home, he finds Jimmy waiting for him. Jimmy jumps off his chair and tackles Scott in a hug. “Scott! I’ve been so worried about you!”

“I’m sorry,” says Scott softly. “Are you okay?”

“A lot better now you’re back.” Jimmy gives Scott a worried frown. “What happened back there? It was terrifying seeing you like that.”

“I didn’t mean to worry you. I just lost control a bit. His smug face and the way he was flippantly pushing you around just… made me lose it. I wasn’t gonna seriously hurt him.”

Scott winces internally at the lie. He’s fully aware that he would have killed Joel if Jimmy hadn’t said anything.

Jimmy doesn’t seem too convinced but he doesn’t push Scott any further. “Where’ve you been for the last hour?”

“I just needed to go see Grian and tell him what happened,” Scott responds truthfully. “In case Joel complains.”

“Why would he? He’s red and he attacked you first so you were allowed to defend yourself.”

Scott just shrugs. “Just in case. I don’t want there to be any trouble.”

Jimmy gazes at Scott, forcing him to meet his eyes. “Are you sure that’s the only thing troubling you? There’s nothing else?”

For several seconds, Scott just gazes back into Jimmy’s worried face, imagining himself attacking Jimmy as viciously as he attacked Joel just hours earlier, imagining Jimmy’s terrified face as he bleeds the life out of him. And for a moment, he hates himself. If only it was Jimmy. Scott can defend himself against red-life Jimmy. But Jimmy doesn’t stand a chance against a bloodthirsty Scott.

“Scott?” Jimmy says again. “Is there something else worrying you?”

Scott shakes his head and pulls Jimmy into another hug.

“No. Nothing.”

#3rd life smp #3rdlifesmp #solidaritygaming #smajor1995 #vaunna’s requests

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tundrainafrica · 4 years ago

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hi do you accept fanfic requests? because imagine a love, rosie levihan au? the childhood friends to lovers slowburn? the angst in the middle but it gets resolved by the end?

Title: Lock and Key (1/2)

Summary:

"He thought back to the dingy small town, back to the dingy cage. Hange was just one canary who flew off. And Levi was the one left behind in the cage.

So he kept the lock in place. He held onto the key. Just in case, she did decide to come back."

Levi and Hange are childhood friends and Levi just can't bring himself to tell her how he feels.

Link to cross-postings: AO3

Notes: I'm sorry anon I did not follow the whole prompt. I took some liberties with it but I hope you still enjoy <3. Quick warning, it's a little angstier (maybe?)

It all started with a party. Years later, Levi was sure, during his off days, he would go back it---to the flashes of strobe lights, the guitar riffs, the beat music, the strong taste of alcohol burning at his throat.

Not for any of those sensations though. He felt like he was dying. They were painful,o verwhelming and Levi was frozen on his seat, cocktail glass between his shaking fingertips, the unnatural heat grazing his cheeks.

He didn’t want to be there.

But he would only be a high school student once. Soon enough they would be sending applications for college and he wouldn’t be able to enjoy the party scene with the thrill of ‘illegality.’

Soon, Levi had to admit, it wasn’t just about the experience. Who cared if it was illegal or legall. It was never just about the experience. He lived his whole high school life not engaging with that type of crowd.

It was Hange who got him just breaking past that comfort bubble he set up for himself, for just that one night. And the experience came with a burning question.

When can we do it again?

Hange was submitting applications to colleges outside the country. Levi didn’t know the odds exactly, he had been too terrified to ask. Something was telling him though that Hange wouldn’t be going to college nearby. In a years time, she might not be next to him.

Hange. The Hange that had been such a constant in his life. And when he was counting down days while basking in uncertainties, he was just a little more open to very uncomfortable feelings.

Hange didn't seem so terrified."This might just be our last hurrah before entrance exams," she said, a cheeky smile on her face.

I know that. Levi said. And as he saw that intent look in her gaze, all for him he was sure. Did he look like he was enjoying? How could he be enjoying it though when the music was playing in time to his pounding head?

“Toilet,” Levi said.

“Okay, you want me to order something else?”

“Just order anything. It’s your birthday,” Levi said as he teetered just a little bit towards the bathroom stall. They had picked a corner table at least and fortunately, the walk to the bathroom didn’t feel like so much of a journey.

Levi stayed in the toilet for a while longer. There were two stalls but by some divine grace, the bathroom was empty and Levi had to act quickly if he wanted to get anything out.

He studied his features. He was bright pink under the white light. He was occasionally blurry. The bright lights that came with reflections got his head a little pounding. But he thought he was in a fairly decent position to at least try.

He had plans on how to do it. Subtly so it wouldn’t hurt. Smartly so he only elicited enough of a reaction to placate his own doubt. And smoothly, so it would end in a blink of an eye.

“Hange, there’s a post I found on Reddit…” Levi rehearsed. Well technically that part was true but he didn’t want her to think he actually rehearsed that.

“Hey Hange, with college exams coming up soon… and your plans…” Levi started. Did he seem just a little too stalkery then? Was he supposed to be thinking of her plans when she hadn’t even told him anything?”

Levi had rehearsed, but the answers came out a little too impromptu. “I have an idea…”

“An idea? That sounds interesting. Everytime we work together in groupworks you never have ideas…” Hange’s voice was slurring, she was a little too talkative and Levi was hesitating.

He cleared his throat. “An idea…” He tested it himself, just to make sure it wasn’t coming out faltered or stilted like Hange’s voice then. “A marriage pact?”

Hange’s eyes widened then. And for a second, there was a flash of sobriety in them. “A marriage pact? This sounds interesting…”

Levi was quick to amend it, scolding whatever hell ghost changed those words before he said it. “Dating pact. I meant a dating pact. We’re not gonna get married without dating of course... I saw this on Reddit but what if… When we’re twenty-eight, when you finish that PhD you’ve always wanted and we’re still single… What if we try dating? Don’t get me wrong… dating just feels weird but I think that I might be missing something here but maybe when I’m that old, that would be a good time to try it out.”

Hange hummed in thought. “That’s an idea. We’re probably still too young to be thinking about dating huh? And with college exams coming up…” The gears in her brain were moving, Levi was sure. “But, if let’s say you find someone… Or I find someone?”

If you find someone? Just imagining the phantom man had Levi catching something in his throat. He looked away as he felt the bile rise up his throat, a little shaken by that moment where his imagination went wild for just a second. But he wasn’t supposed to feel that way.

Or maybe he should be feeling that way. After all, how many drinks had he downed until that point. Hange was starting to be a little wild too. It wasn’t an all too uncharacteristic move. She had always been the loud one, the more extroverted one.

But she was always particularly studious too and just seeing Hange jumped out of her seat and navigate her way through the crowds and towards the dancefloor had Levi suspended in disbelief for a second.

But he followed suit.

The strobe lights were brighter. The music was louder and in a way, it had devolved into ringing in his ears. Those were only secondary.

The moment he caught up to Hange, he found himself holding her by the arm, navigating all the way until her hand, just for a better grip. She was an anchor to reality, an anchor to reasoning beyond the harrowing effects of the lights and sounds.

Her skin on his wasn’t an overwhelming outburst of sensations. It was warm, it was smooth. The pull as she danced to some rhythm was predictable.

He had known her for years. Hange had always embodied comfort for him.

Tipsy, overwhelmed and a little unhinged at that moment, Levi danced to her rhythm and he rode the dizzying trappings of his inebriated state.

Riding such feelings though had its own collection of surprises and soon Levi found himself on the rooftop of the bar, enjoying the feel of the concrete right below him and beneath it, the shaking from the bass of the music just on the floor below him. It was faint though and there were sounds and sensations more intimate at that moment.

Hange’s breaths and the laughs in between were shaky. Her grip on his hand was tighter, far from painless but he couldn’t complain. God forbid, it might just end.

“Levi, I thought about the dating pact. What happens if you find someone? Or I find someone?”

“Then we don’t push through with the pact. Simple as that,” Levi said.

“You’ll still be there right? Even if I find someone?”

Levi felt a wave relief rush through him and he let out a harsh breath, a product of his own tipsiness then and his own discomfort at their circumstances. “We’ve been best friends since before we could remember. What’s a few more decades?”

“We might lose touch… I dunno? Did I tell you? I applied for colleges abroad. This just isn’t the best environment for research.”

“Then I’ll visit you.”

“And if I find someone there?”

“Then I’ll be the cool uncle to your kids, if you ever have them.”

***

He didn’t have to think about it over the months. Or maybe he just chose not to think about it.

Work, responsibilities and life as a whole never gave him any breaks to think so much as the far future.

What was the point of thinking about a future when he wasn’t working on it? So Levi worked his part time job, he studied and he prepared for his own entrance exams. Even when entrance exams ended, Levi was at least able to focus on the hell weeks before graduation.

He didn’t expect at all to have to think about it again, in a coffee shop of all places after one of his own shifts. He was in the middle of organizing the tea bags at the front of the shop when the reminder presented itself.

The reminder of such musings came as a clang of wind chimes, some huffing and puffing and some rhythmically unhinged footsteps. Hange appeared out of the corner and into the empty cafe, letter in hand.

Her cheeks were flushed and Levi had to note that she was wearing too little layers.

Levi glanced at the clock. “Did you just run here from your house at nine in the evening?”

Hange nodded. “Yes, I did.” Her house wasn’t too far, a ten minute walk if they were taking a relaxing stroll. It was nine in the evening though and it didn’t look like Hange had even bothered to put on a coat. Excitement probably did those types of things to people. She waved the letter up in the air and her breaths were only getting quicker and more unpredictable.

As if she was struggling to speak. “Slow down,” Levi said.

He untied his apron, pulled it off and sat on one of the tables closest to the counter. He patted the table, just a simple gesture for her to sit. He could spare a few minutes, his shift was ending soon anyway and not many people would be entering a breakfast cafe an hour before closing.

Hange needed a few more minutes to gather herself but she at least had some courtesy to slip the letter in front of him. “Read.”

We are pleased to inform you…

Full scholarship. Research stipend.

“I passed!” Hange said. “I’m leaving this dingy town for college!”

Levi was happy. He was sure of it. Maybe he had spent just a little too much time thinking logistics that it hadn’t manifested so naturally as a smile. He had to force it. He had to widen his eyes and he had to nod his head to express any approval. But really Hange’s face then a mixture of surprise, joy, ecstasy had him excited too. It had him shaking.

But there were just some things he couldn't shake off even with the most natural movements. Hange seemed to notice. “It’s only a plane ride away.”

But to get to the plane, one would need to get through at least three local trains, then the airport express then the actual airport and just the idea of Hange standing behind the barriers of money, bureaucracy and time was overwhelming in itself. Since they were young, Hange had only ever been a few blocks away. That wasn’t something he would have wanted to tell her though. She might just think he was crazy. “You’re right… It isn’t too far.”

“Didn’t you apply too?”

“I wouldn’t be able to pay for the tuition but I tried for a scholarship. It’s a long shot but…”

“Well, I heard they consider grades, extracurriculars as well as part time jobs.”

Levi knew that. He had done the research way beforehand. But he averaged Bs and his own financial situation and the need for part time jobs meant he had little to no engagement with other extracurriculars.

Still, Levi found himself hoping. When the letter arrived, left on the counter by his mother. Levi was quick to open it, his heart was racing and maybe his fingers had faltered a bit as he ripped open the top of the envelope.

We regret to inform you…

At that moment, Levi almost regretted even applying for the scholarship. The school didn’t even consider him as a student.

“There are community colleges,” his mother had said.

Conditional Acceptance. Scholarship denied. He wasn’t the type to hide those things from Hange. And maybe Hange read the room, maybe it had her treading rough grounds, more than Levi would have liked.

Graduation loomed like a vulture ready to strike. The difference was he knew exactly when the vulture would strike. And sometimes it flew over them in moments where Levi could have sworn graduation was still a long time away.

Hange didn’t seem to notice. Or maybe she didn’t care. Hange though was something special. She prattled on about college plans, about her dormitory preparation and even about her thesis topics which were still five years away.

Then suddenly, she just stopped. Suddenly conversation topics shifted to studies, to research paper topics, to the most interesting customers Levi would run into at the tea shop.

Hange was still excited. Levi had known her long enough to figure it out. When Hange wasn’t holding anything, she was twiddling her thumbs. When she was watching her words, she tended to speak slower, she tended to stutter and she tended to pick the most professional words that most high school students wouldn’t even consider vernacular.

Levi brought it up again over team, a few months after the rejection letter, a few weeks after he noticed that subtle change in her demeanor. “Hange, how are your plans for college? You’re gonna have to leave in a month right?” Hange was leaving a few weeks after graduation, to give herself time to adjust to the new city.

Hange’s mouth dropped open. “I mean, yes… I will be leaving in a month.” She had been in the middle of mentioning words like ‘diction,’ and ‘sovereign’ when describing her writing style for her final paper and it looked like she was still trying to adjust.

Maybe Levi had introduced the topic a little too suddenly. It was too late to go back though. “So, we have a week or two after graduation right?”

“In between packing… Yes,” Hange said with a shrug. How Hange had mellowed into something hesitant, almost lifeless had been a mystery to Levi. For only that split second though. Hange cleared her throat. “How do you feel about it?”

It turned out, there had always been an elephant in the room. And it bared its fangs then, hidden right under the trunk. The air turned heavy, making it almost difficult to breathe.

He was the only one though capable of finding his own breath again. “What can I say? I didn’t pass.” Levi dropped his shoulders and let out a weak sigh, not loud enough to make himself seem pathetic. Rejection letters had already left him feeling pathetic for months.

Hange responded with a wry smile. “I’m sorry about that. I should have realized earlier. I should have been more sensitive.” She was kind. She was empathetic. She was always striving to be better. And she always had been.

At that moment, in the cafe, tapping her fingers on the porcelain cup, Levi saw it. She was a kettle, a pot ready to burst, only covered by a stubbornly heavy lid.

A lid she had put just for him. That was the moment Levi realized, he might just be pulling her back.

***

There was another elephant in the room. An elephant that followed with heavy steps that shook the whole room.

At least to Levi it seemed that way.

Uncertainty was a very heavy thing. When he could barely see what would be at the end of the tunnel---the end being the day Hange lugs a lifetime worth of belongings and takes a train to the airport--- Levi felt the pressure of his whole life in front of him crammed into the next two weeks.

A day after graduating, when the countdown just became a little too clearer, Hange wasn’t next to him and he had to make do. A day-long trip to the capital to get some student visa shit sorted out.

She wouldn’t have called it ‘student visa shit,’ she had said something nicer definitely, something that embodied her life long dreams of a living outside of their ‘dingy old town.’ That ‘student visa thing’ had Levi uncertain, twiddling his thumbs like she did many times before, the student visa thing had him feeling like ‘shit.’

So he called it ‘shit,’ and he enjoyed the bitter venom in his mouth, the sweet release and the comfortable exhale that followed.

“Sounds hectic,” Farlan said. He hadn’t been looking at Levi’s way the entire time, too busy aiming for a headshot at the screen.

It was hectic. But it wasn’t shit to Levi for that reason.

“I guess that’s one good thing about getting into community college.”

“Yeah, it does sound hectic.” Levi had been secretive about applying. He let the subtle fact that he had applied to similar colleges to Hange simmer in the room, ebb at the guilt inside him. He wasn’t telling anyone about community college being a fall back. That was a secret he’d keep to his heart, only known by his mother, his uncle and Hange. Fortunately, Hange never brought it up. “That’s why I didn’t wanna bother her today.”

“She’s busy.”

“When you get into a really good college I guess...” The silence was heavy again. The elephant in the room plopped down right next to him and their conversation wasn’t making too much sense and as Levi quickly analyzed the shooting game in front of him, he understood why Farlan wouldn’t have the headspace for some slight drama.

So Levi sat quietly, politely ignoring the tension, instead focusing on bending forward while cross legged, letting his back stretch behind him. Stretching his aching muscles, undoing knots, allowed some lightness to settle, taking the space of whatever heaviness there had been a second ago.

The game ended soon after with a taut swear from Farlan. Then a question Levi hadn’t been ready for. “Are you gonna tell her?”

Levi almost spat out his response. “Tell her what?”

Farlan put the controller down. “It’s your last chance right? Once she leaves for the city, she’ll find new people… And she’s not ugly you know. A lot of people--- men and women---will go after her. ”

She was frumpy, plain especially right after a shower. Worry and stress would line her face right after a long night. Levi had to admit though that she was far from ugly. Her notably bright personality, her intelligence that ‘came once every decade’ according to the many conversations he had heard among teachers were painful reminders, the impending goodbye was just turning out to be more and more terrifying.

“I know that.” Levi couldn’t bring himself to say anymore, not about his feelings, not about the marriage pact. Articulating what he was thinking would only serve to make it more real.

“How you feel about her leaving?”

“Well, of course I’m sad about it, she’s my best friend.”

“Yeah, but don’t you wanna lock it… If you know what I mean,” Farlan said slowly, as if he were talking to someone either oblivious or someone below the age of five.

Levi was neither five nor oblivious. Still, obliviousness was a convenient trait. “Lock what?”

Farlan let out a mix between a sigh and a laugh. “Never mind.” He clicked ‘start a new game.’ The loading screen flashed in front of him and Farlan used as an opening to turn back. “It’s up to you but--- I know she means a lot to you and I just think if she means that much to you… you should take the risk.”

Levi decided on it a few minutes later but he saw no convenient opportunity to tell Farlan, the latter having been engrossed in a more challenging campaign since a while ago. So any attempt to articulate his decision died there.

And he had two weeks to come up with a final plan.

***

Less than 24 hours ago, Levi was determined to tell Hange. His confidence was a littles stronger than usual. He was no writer but he had a script. He was no actor but he had allowed himself time in front of the mirror to balance his tones, to time his rests.

It was stupid. He had known Hange for years but circumstances, and maybe Levi’s own fastidious personality, had him realizing confessions were a nuanced thing. Emphasizing the wrong words could have Hange getting the wrong message.

And when he didn’t even know whether he wanted her to leave or stay, he wasn’t even sure what the right message was.

He had dedicated at least three hours to the whole preparation process when a speed bump appeared.

In the form of a shopping trip with his mother and the young daughter of the family friend. Isabel was only a few years younger, but her innocence, her blind optimism at the state of the world and the fate of relationships was closer to that of a five year old.

Having spent the past few hours dealing with his own skeletons, Levi was a little envious, particularly when she had walked ahead “ooh”-ing and “aah”ing at everyday things. The streets have always been cobblestoned. Although the trinkets at the front of the shops, although the food sold at the streetcars varied by season, the big picture always seemed the same to Levi.

If he walked until the end of the main street, he would find the town church. If he walked along the alleys, he would find a few pubs that opened too late in the day and too early in the evening. And if he kept walking until the end of the alleys, he would find greens. And lots and lots of mountains.

It is a dingy little town. Those were Hange’s words. But it’s our dingy little town. He hadn’t been to the center of town in so long and when all he could think about was Hange, he was noticing the smallest things. Everything Hange hated about the town.

“Levi, let’s check out the pet shop!”

Kuchel had been busy looking at the spices displayed at the front of one of the shops and Isabel was starting to get a little restless.

“I’ll take her,” Levi said.

Kuchel nodded, still occupied with spices. “Sure I’ll meet you there.”

It was a weekday, the beginning of summer yet the heat was enough to have Levi a little uncomfortable in a shirt with sleeves past his elbows. It was the crowd he had to navigate through definitely. Humans were warm creatures and the crowds trapped the warmth, the sun above only contributed its share of warmth.

Warmth and warmth mixed together became unbearably hot and under it all, Levi was uncomfortable, he was finding a distraction. And he was still thinking of Hange.

“Look, it’s a canary.” Isabel was supposed to have been a distraction. When Levi looked back to stare at it, he felt it, Hange was still a nagging thought in the back of his mind. And inadvertently, he was projecting her into anything remotely Hange.

“Can we buy it, Levi?”

His mind wasn’t in the conversation. He was focused just a little too much on the yellow bird, clamoring the sides of the cage, only grasping by the thinner metal bars. “You wanna buy the canary?” Levi asked.

“I read in a book. Canaries are high energy birds and they can’t be kept inside the cage. They said it’s not healthy."

"Not healthy?"

"I wanna set it free.”

Isabel was tugging at him but Levi was frozen in place. He had pulled out from the crowds and he was in a better position definitely. One discomfort had been replaced with another though.

The crowds came and left, soon replaced by thoughts of Hange once again. That had Levi stiffening up.

“Levi, let’s check the store!”

The poor poor canary.

“I wanna buy the canary!”

Kuchel wouldn’t allow it. Isabel’s parents wouldn’t allow it. Did they even have the money for it? They barely even made ends meet.

Levi was certain never before had he even given caged animals more than one glance but the canary had taken up more space in his mind, more than he was willing to have given from the start.

He stared longer. He stared deeper into those eyes. Then he figured it out, there was one bright eyed, high energy bird much closer to him. Before the thoughts could form into something else, Levi attempted to look away, surveying his surroundings instead.

The bright sweltering sun only served to magnify the black, rotting among the corners in the alleys and the houses. If he focused on the outdated grills and the peeling paint, he noticed it.. Hange was right, the small town was dingy.

When he looked beyond it, squinting just a little bit, he saw more. Just past the buildings and the alleys though were trees, greens, there were mountains. The next town was a good long train ride away. The next city was a much longer train ride away. The raw sensation of rejection letter on hand only served to build the bars for him.

The small town was a dingy cage. And two weeks later, he saw it in her. The bright yellow. The talons that clambered up, foraging for some opening in the cage.

And he saw it clearly completely at the gate to immigration, just a few minutes after check in.

Hange wasn’t crying. Hange didn’t curl her lips down into a grimace. In fact, everything was the other way around. It was as if she wasn’t leaving him and he wasn’t leaving her.

Levi spoke up. “Send a message before you take off.”

“Will do,” Hange replied.

“And when you arrive there,” Levi added.

“You know I will,” Hange said calmly. A big smile played at her lips. “You’ll visit right?”

“I’ll save up for it.” Levi had done the calculations. One year of saving, one year of cutting down on any luxuries and he could afford the plane ticket at least.

The train ticket. Then the plane ticket. The whole journey there. The weight of the effort seemed surreal and it would only become a reality when he lets her go, through the immigration doors.

Only passengers beyond this point. Levi stared at the sign for a little longer. Once Hange crossed that, the next time he would see her would be after he paid the ridiculous ticket prices, put in the long painstaking hours on the plane

“Hey, I’ll make sure to call, maybe every day, maybe once a week. Depending on how busy we both get,” Hange said gently.

Levi wondered what face he was making to receive such comforts. Hange’s voice wasn’t gentle by nature. She had only summoned it herself through careful thought, through some sustained effort for sure.

And he became more aware of the prickle at the back of his eyes and the inclination to just stand there for as long as he could. Maybe in another world that would have been enough to freeze time.

Then, suddenly he felt guilty for even hoping for some power over time. Hange had been calm, maybe wistful but she was also excited. “I might miss my flight if we stay here any longer.” Her tone was lighter than a while ago. She could have been making a joke.

Levi at least tried to adopt the same demeanor. HIs mind though had been elsewhere. Maybe he had managed a smile, a nod.

Hange turned her back slowly. With one wave of her hand, she went between the gates. She was still waving, past on the other side of the glass. She wasn’t looking at him anymore though.

Acceptance dawned on him more quickly than he expected. Maybe because Hange wasn’t just Hange anymore. Seeing her had been some catalyst to a quick recall.

To the canary long ago, stuck in the cage. The canary who had climbed to the top, in pursuit of some way out of that dingy metal cage.

Before Hange turned the corner towards the gates, she had looked at him one more time. Levi ran towards the glass wall, phone in hand. He held it in front of him and mouthed one word. “Text.”

Hange put one hand on the glass and nodded. She said something else, something he couldn’t tell. But it had fogged the glass just in front of them.

Dingy metal cage. Glass barriers. Two different materials but they did the same thing. They separated people. They kept some in. They kept others out.

Then Levi thought back to the cage, back to the canary and he thought back to the lock that blended too well to the cage. The canary would never have learned to open it alone.

Hange's own education. Her own wit had gotten her out of the cage.

And who was he to stop her? Hange had found the key. She had unlocked it herself.

“I love you. I wish you’d stay.” Would he have been able to call her back in with just one a few words? He said it as a whisper, enough to fog his side of the glass and the haze blended with hers.

By the time he said it the second time, then the third time, enough to cover Hange’s own fog, she had turned back already. She turned the corner, then towards the gate number.

Gate 23. Levi had been fixated enough to memorize the flight number and the gate number.

He stared for a few seconds longer, watching as the fog on the other side disappeared into nothing, leaving scratches and almost invisible specks of dust. For a second longer, he wondered if that had been anything Hange left behind.

He watched his own fog waste into nothing. He thought back to the dingy small town, then back to the dingy cage. Hange was just one canary who flew off.

And Levi was the one left behind in the cage. So he kept the lock in place. He held onto the key. Just in case, she decided to come back.

#levihan #levihan fanfiction

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ursulaismymiddlename · 4 years ago

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“All That’s Best of Dark and Bright” (Bucky Barnes x Reader) Epilogue - Completed

Well, it's been nearly 3 years since my last update and I felt it was time to give up the ghost. The muse for this fic hasn't been very kind to me, but I was able to write the epilogue for the fic way back when. So now I'm sharing this to finally put this fic (and my guilt about it) to rest. Maybe, one day, when I'm old and gray, I'll go back and try to write the chapter that should have been before this and all the deleted scenes/one-shots I had in mind for after. But today is not that day. In the meantime, enjoy what was to be the epilogue for the story itself.... Sorry for the wait.

On AO3

---

A warm breeze carried the scent of sweetgrass and fresh-turned soil past you, yet the normally pleasant smell was more off-putting given the location. The crisp spring day seemed a stark contrast to the rows of gravestones you strode past, your daughter tucked in your arms. She’d been walking on her own for a while now, but it had been a long day and her little legs could only hold out so long. Her face was tucked in the crook of your neck now, dozing lightly with her small feet dangling and her arms thrown around your neck in a hug. Maybe you should have had her keep practicing across the somewhat uneven ground, but how could you pass up holding your sweet little girl with her father’s dimpled chin and your sister’s name. Besides, it was probably best she was out of it for what you were about to do.

Stopping in front of one of the plots, you bit at your lower lip quietly a moment, uncertain how to start. Your eyes roamed the marker as your heart thundered in your chest, eyes tracing along the letters etched in stone. Barnes. The name made your gut twist in knots and you had to take a shaky breath to steady yourself.

“Well, Buck. You told me I had to tell you. No matter where you were at or what you were doing,” you spoke quietly. You had to sniff against the tears forming in your eyes, pet your daughter’s soft, dark curls before you could go on. “I’m pregnant again, Bucky. Gonna be another little Barnes running around. Can you believe it?”

Silence met you in those few heartbeats, even the wind in the trees seeming to have stopped, waiting. Then Bucky’s face turned up to greet you from where he knelt at the foot of the grave, his expression overjoyed and overwhelmed in equal measure despite the dark circles under his eyes from a fitful night’s rest. After a second, he surged to his feet to grip the back of your neck and haul you in for a kiss. Of course he’d be happy, ecstatic. It was probably only the first stirrings of hormones that had you worrying otherwise.

“No foolin, right, sweetheart,” he breathed hopefully against your lips when he rested his forehead to yours. “You wouldn’t play with an old man’s heart like that, would ya?”

“I just got off the phone with the doctor’s office. I didn’t want to get your hopes up until I knew for sure,” you answered with a fond roll of your eyes as you grasped his hand to press his palm low on your belly. His delighted laughter was infectious, crinkling the corners of his adoring eyes even as he turned back toward the row of grave markers.

“Ya hear that Ma? Pop,” he asked, a soft sob to his voice through his wide grin. His eyes fell to where his fingers rested, thumb brushing aimlessly along your stomach as he stared nearly awestruck. “Gonna be a dad again. My sweetheart’s givin me another baby.”

“Daddy,” a small voice spoke from your shoulder, little fists rubbing against tired eyes.

“Aw, c’mere, sugar plum,” Bucky cooed sweetly. The excitement in his voice was barely contained as he carefully took her from you, tucking her in the crook of his metal elbow with a little bounce. “I’m sorry. Daddy didn’t mean to wake ya.”

“No sleep, daddy,” she protested with a yawn before leaning in to press her cheek under his chin. Her eyes slowly drifted shut again as little fingers reached up to grasp near the buttons of his shirt and Bucky ducked his head to press a kiss into her hair.

His gaze returned to you, that soft, loving expression lighting his face as his free hand cupped your jaw with flesh fingers. As you pressed into his touch, you finally realized your cheeks had begun to ache from how much you’d been smiling. Bucky leaned in to kiss you again, warm and lingering, like he couldn’t pull away, and even after all this time it still made your heart flutter.

“Jesus, baby, another baby,” he chuckled at himself. Then a proud grin lit up his face. “Can’t wait ta tell the guys. They’re gonna be so excited.”

You fixed him with an admonishing look as you pulled his hand from your cheek to tug him toward the car. “Oh no you don’t, mister. You better not say a thing at the party tonight.”

“C’mon, a party’s the perfect place to tell everyone,” Bucky countered, shooting a look back over his shoulder to his parents’ plot. You let him go, scolding yourself for being so rude and trying to rush him away. But he only paused a moment longer, nose buried in your daughter’s hair as she snored gently. When you slipped your hand low on his back, he hooked his arm around your shoulders to tuck you into his side before moving to guide you down the grassy row.

You were nearly back at the car when Bucky spoke again, opening up the back door where the carseat waited. “Can’t believe you don’t want me ta share the good news tonight.”

“Bucky,” you clucked your tongue, but with no real ire in your voice as he strapped your daughter in. “Tonight is about Sam and Steve, not us.”

“It’s a housewarming, not an engagement party,” he snickered as he tried to click the harness quietly to avoid jostling the baby too much. “Besides, everyone, everyone, knew before me last time.”

A little hand stayed wrapped around Bucky’s until he carefully removed it, replacing his wrist with the arm of the giant stuffed polar bear in the seat beside. It had gone through quite a bit since he’d won it for you, from the weeks and months you were apart and it was your only comfort, to becoming your daughter’s near-constant companion after daddy told her it would watch over her in his place whenever he absolutely had to be away on a mission. Its white fur was dingy now, with a few colorful stains and spots where you’d had to mend seams from a bit of rough handling, but it was well-loved and you wouldn’t change a thing about it.

“Okay, fine,” you said, relenting as Bucky straightened himself from the backseat. “You can tell Steve and Sam and if they give the go ahead, you can make a big deal out of it.”

“As you wish,” he smiled with a mischievous glint while settling his hands at your waist and smothering you in another kiss that had you leaning back against the car. Maybe you both knew those two men, who called themselves uncles before you even had a chance to, would be almost as excited as Bucky was.

After managing to pull away to catch your breath, you couldn’t help tugging the front of his shirt affectionately. “So, you ready for another nine months of me waddling around, fat and moody?”

“Are you kiddin me, sweetheart?” Bucky crooked an amused eyebrow at you. “I dunno how you managed it, but you were even more beautiful when you were carryin our little girl.”

“Sweet talker,” you scoffed gently and shoved lightly at his broad chest.

It didn’t bother him one bit. Instead, a cheeky grin spread his face and he dipped his head closer to speak in a lower tone. “Besides, I can’t wait til them hormones hit ya and you won’t be able to keep your hands off me again.”

You snorted, trying not to be too loud with the baby sleeping closeby. What a joke. Since when have you ever been able to keep your hands off him? To prove the point, you reached around and slipped your fingers into his back pockets, pulling him closer to you, which he easily complied with. “Are you sure you can keep up with me again, old man? We could see about getting you some Viagra...”

“Oh, you don’t gotta worry about that, kid. Ya smart ass,” Bucky chuckled under his breath with a shake of his head, tip of his nose brushing yours before he pressed his lips to yours again.

He kissed you thoroughly, taking his sweet time despite the awkward locale. But stealing moments in the strangest of places and at the oddest of times had become practically a necessity since your daughter came along. How you’d found time to make another was a miracle. So, there were no qualms keeping you from slipping your fingers through his hair and giving over to him momentarily, letting him pour some of his joy back into you and melting a little more when his hand found your stomach again to palm just below your belly button. The gentle intimacy of the touch sent a fluttering through your gut. Your arms were still looped around his neck when the two of you parted, but he had no interest in moving away at the moment. Bucky tilted his head back to regard you with a tender, disbelieving expression.

“You’re too good to me, солнышко,” he said quietly, in that familiar, vulnerable tone. “After what I been through, I couldn’t let myself hope. Now I got more’n I ever coulda dreamed of. How’s a bum like me get so lucky?”

“You deserve this, Bucky,” you replied, cutting off the protest forming on his lips with a furrow of your brow and a gentle tug of his hair. “You deserve to be happy. You’ve earned it.”

Tongue darting out along his lower lip, Bucky shook his head with a huff before setting his smile back on you. “And what about you, huh, Mrs. Barnes? How’re you feelin?”

“What can I say, Sarge,” you sighed, teasing, knowing the title sent a thrill through him as much as calling you by his last name. Regarding him a moment, you remembered the way he looked the first time you met him, when he’d been shuffled into your house, stoic and disheveled and displaced. Though he was still occasionally plagued by his past, it was a far cry from the man standing in your arms now. The man who mucked through hell and still wanted to do good. Who you were meant to help and helped you too. Your husband, the father of your child. Children, now. Your fingers slid from his hair to grip his chin affectionately. “I guess I’m just a sucker for a happy ending.”

Another bright smile greeted you as you pulled Bucky in for one more kiss before he carefully, quietly shut the back door of the car and helped you into the passenger seat. He rounded the front of the car to slide behind the wheel, taking a glance in the backseat to check on your daughter before the engine roared to life. Once he had the car in gear, his fingers slipped between yours on the console, thumb caressing gently over your knuckles as he threw you a grin and pulled away from the curb.

---

@hollysleeps @nuvoleincielo @creideamhgradochas@interestedbystanderwrites @the-squid-one @flung-through-galaxies@buckybarnesisalittleshit @callalilyiskewl @firewolfkelly @feelmyroarrrr @booksandshowsandmovies-ohmy @jacks-on-krack @marvelbros-oneshots @mrshopkirk @xxchexchickxx @sebeefstianstan @timelady12 @angryschnauzer @theladymakai@kiwi71281 @melonberri@vaisabu @ryverpenrad @inkededucatednnerdy @kaaatniss @captain-amelia-bradley @yesiamdeliciouslycaffeinated @learisa @bakexprayxlove@theerikasanchez @4theluvofall @mllx-anazra @tothetardissterek@crazinessgraveyardsandcartoons @thinkwritexpress-official

“All That’s Best of Dark and Bright” Tag List: @hispeculiartreasure @clutter-buck @mellon-collie@paulaamarieee @mjnthefandomwriter @undiscl0sed-desir3s@procrastinatingvirgo @levirivaillelover @fullmetalavatar54 @fangirlwithasweettooth@azzylion @portrait-ninja @immundusspiritu @usannika@sporadicalpacacloud @juliagolia87 @vesraen @tsulakurotsuchi @sephiratales @damn-fandoms @whenlucasmetmaya @earinafae @kenobi-and-barnes @mizzzpink @srgtjamesbarnes107 @krisaglar @maudelebowski29 @captainpoopweinersoldier

#Kati writes #atbodab #Bucky x Reader #The End

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imaginingsoftly · 4 years ago

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Wedding Date Pt 7 - Tyler Seguin

Type: strangers-enemies-lovers, series

Requested: no

Warnings: swearing, mentions of emotional manipulation and shitty exes, therapy mention, I think that’s it?

A/N: I feel so awful it took so long to get this out to you guys. I wanted it to be perfect, and it just wasn’t getting there. I finally got to a place where I was really happy with how it ended. I love you all, and I hope you enjoy. As always, my requests are open!

A/N: Also!! I need to give a huge huge HUGE thank-you to @tysojost for reading most of this series before I posted it and giving wonderful feedback that both helped me edit and gave me the motivation to keep writing. You’re the real MVP here dude, thank you so much!!!

Although Melissa had finally gotten used to decoding Southern accents every time she left the house, the weather in Dallas was a whole other story. It was mid-December now, well into the hockey season, and Dallas hadn’t gotten the message it was winter. Sure, she’d needed a sweatshirt some mornings and the typical high had finally dipped below 70, but they’d yet to have the first frost or even the threat of winter weather.

Of course, the warmer weather meant that her and Tyler’s weekly dog park date could continue past the fall. Tyler had wound his way into her life slowly, so slowly that she didn’t even really notice it happening. One charity event turned into two, which turned into Melissa being Tyler’s date to team parties and casual events, which turned into a weekly beer and pizza night, which turned into small routine dates three or four times a week. There was the beer and pizza night, the afternoon dog park date, and usually a hike on a trail or a walk around the city that led to sharing a meal or coffee. They still weren’t dating, at least not in any officially stated capacity; Tyler had given Melissa the lead just like he’d promised, not pushing her any further than what she was willing to give. But it was definitely something.

As if he could sense where her thoughts had gone, Tyler began rubbing circles in her thigh with his thumb. “If this is too much sweetheart, just talk to me.” Earnest eyes met hers when Melissa looked in his direction. “I don’t ever want to push you in a direction you’re not comfortable going.” Tyler’s three dogs barked and nipped playfully at each other as they tore around the fenced-in park, but Melissa ignored the sound in favor of leaning in to Tyler. She’d submitted final grades for her three courses that afternoon, and the waning heat of the sun on her face and the feel of Tyler’s soft t-shirt under her cheek mixed with the bone-deep exhaustion that the end of a semester always brought to create an overwhelming sense of peace.

He grinned when she squeezed the hand rubbing her thigh. “You’re not going too fast, Ty. You’ve been amazing, actually.” It was true. Tyler kissed the top of her head when she leaned deeper into his chest, and then he turned back to the sunset shining golden and red over the park. The temperature was dropping quickly in the air around them, but Melissa couldn’t bring herself to suggest they head back to Tyler’s car. Gerry tore over to the pair and flopped his head on Melissa’s knee. The dog, much like his owner, had grown on her to the point that even just looking at his puppy eyes completely melted every bit of anxiety lingering. Drool dropped down onto her jeans, and Melissa chuckled as she scratched the dog’s head.

Tyler was smiling softly when Melissa looked up again. “How was group last night?” Another weekly thing he’d encouraged her to take part in. There was a group of women who had experienced emotionally manipulative relationships like Melissa’s who met every week at a coffee shop near her townhouse, and it was Tyler who found them and encouraged her to go. She would never have done it on her own, but it had been so helpful to talk with other women about their experiences. Therapy had been helpful, almost a lifesaver in the beginning, but for her that was nothing compared to talking with others who could really get it.

“It was good.” She smiled up at Tyler as Gerry took off to play with the other dogs again. “A new girl came, and we spent a lot of time getting to know her. I don’t think she’d really had anyone to talk to until she met with us, so it was nice to listen and give her advice.” The girl had been young, younger than Melissa’s baby sister, and Melissa had seen red as the girl recounted some of the things her ex had said to her.

A sudden burst of cold wind tugged some of Melissa’s hair from where it sat in a loose braid, and Tyler gently tucked it back in. “You ready for me to take you home?” Tyler’s question brought a frown to Melissa’s face. She wasn’t ready to leave the cocoon Tyler and the dogs had created. She still heard Liam’s voice in her head at inopportune moments, but they were fewer and further in between than ever. These moments with Tyler, whether it be just the two of them or in a crowd of teammates and friends, were moments she never heard his voice anymore. It was like Tyler, with his compliments and touches and consideration for her feelings had effectively banished Liam’s presence from everything Melissa and Tyler.

Maybe it was time for Melissa to take a step for once, instead of waiting for Tyler to do it. “Would it be okay if I went home with you tonight?” She looked out at the treeline rather than at Tyler as she spoke, though a gentle hand gently guided her chin until their eyes met. His eyes, dark and searching, must have found whatever they were looking for. Tyler grinned and tugged Melissa to her feet, only breaking eye contact to whistle at the dogs. The trio tore through the growing twilight past Tyler and Melissa, barking and nipping at each other the entire way. Melissa giggled as the dogs came to a stop at the gate to the park, and she felt lips at her hairline as Tyler pressed another kiss to her forehead.

“You want to stop for dinner, or do you want to cook something together?” Tyler’s thumb rubbed circles on the top of Melissa’s hand as they walked together towards the dogs. “I think I’ve got the stuff to make steak and some mashed potatoes or something.” Melissa nodded an affirmative. He’d been trying to grill her a steak for weeks now, but life kept getting in the way.

“I dunno, a shirtless Tyler manning the grill sounds pretty damn nice to me,” Melissa teased with a laugh, “I think that might be exactly what I need.”

Tyler let out a bark of laughter and hauled her body into his own. He leaned down until his lips were level at her ear. “You want me shirtless pretty girl?” Melissa shivered at Tyler’s whisper. “I’ll take my shirt off if you promise to change out of your work clothes and into my shirt.” He squeezed his hands where they rested on Melissa’s waist, and she nodded into his chest. Her bones felt almost like liquid as Tyler tugged them back into motion, but the smirk on his face said he knew exactly what he was doing.

They spent a majority of the ride back to Tyler’s place with the windows rolled down, much to the pleasure of the three dogs fighting for window space in the backseat. Even with the cold air filtering through the car it felt too hot, largely thanks to the asshole sitting to Melissa’s left. Tyler smirked at the dashboard as he drove, one hand on the steering wheel and the other rubbing small circles on the inside of Melissa’s thigh. He’d known exactly what he was doing when he whispered in her ear at the dog park. It wasn’t even that he’d whispered anything dirty, it was that he knew it would wind her up.

Cash took off for the door to the house as soon as Melissa opened the door to the backseat, and the other two dogs followed closely behind him. Tyler came around to her side of the car. He leaned down to kiss her cheek, and then whipped his shirt off in one movement. Melissa didn’t have a chance to react to the muscle and ink in her face before Tyler shoved his shirt at her. “Go change. I’ll get the steak and shit out.” He took a few steps in the direction of the door linking his garage to the inside before he stopped short and turned to face her again. “Do you want some sweatpants too, or is the shirt gonna be okay?”

Melissa smiled at the consideration. “I think I’ll be okay with the shirt. You tend to keep your house pretty warm.” Tyler smiled in her direction and finished heading inside, leaving Melissa a second to gather her thoughts before she followed. Maybe it was that she was too tired to overthink things for once, but she was finally coming to realize that this thing with Tyler was more than just a really good friendship. She loved him a lot, actually. Tyler’s shirt, still warm from his body and smelling of him, almost fell from her hands at the realization. She loved him.

It was the fastest she’d ever changed. Tyler’s shirt fell just long enough to cover her underwear, and she neatly folded the blouse and chinos she’d worn to work. The sound of rap and Tyler’s poor attempt to sing along led her into the kitchen, where he cooked shirtless with a towel draped over his shoulder. Now that she’d finally caught up with her feelings, a flash of her potential future passed in front of Melissa’s eyes. She could see herself coming home to this view every night.

Tyler looked up as she stepped further into the kitchen, and his grin turned her bones to liquid again. “Hey, pretty girl. Looking good. I like you in my clothes.” It was such a Tyler thing to say, all player and cliches, but Melissa could tell he was being serious. He turned back to the potatoes he was chopping up, and Melissa took a couple more steps forward.

“I love you.” Damn. She hadn’t meant to just blurt it out like that. Tyler barely reacted, except for a flash of a smile down at the cutting board.

Her heart pounded as she waited to see what Tyler would say. “Well it’s about damn time.” Tyler put down the knife, and he flashed that damn smile at Melissa this time instead of the potatoes as he took three large steps in her direction. “Baby I’ve been waiting to hear those words out of your mouth for weeks.” She tried to come up with some kind of sarcastic retort, but hands cupped her cheeks and Tyler’s eyes were meeting hers. “I love you too. I’ve been waiting to tell you until you said it first. I didn’t want to scare you away.” Melissa’s heart turned to goo, and she leaned up to kiss Tyler. It was nice, she decided, initiating things with him.

Tyler pulled back too quickly, and Melissa frowned. “Potatoes. Water is boiling. Don’t want to burn the pot.” He threw a smirk over his shoulder as he strode back to the stovetop. “Steaks are on the grill, potatoes are going in. You want to grab the stuff to make a salad?”

They worked in silence. It probably should have been awkward, especially after Melissa’s outburst upon entering the kitchen, but silence with Tyler really never had been weird. His hand met hers periodically as they made dinner together, and the only time their silence was broken was the handful of times Tyler randomly leaned over to kiss Melissa’s cheek and whisper “I love you” into her skin. It almost felt like a dream.

#wedding date ml #tyler seguin imagine #nhl imagines #nhl imagine

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cheetahsprints · 4 years ago

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All good things now come from you

Summary: Wu visits Mako.

What have I done to fall so hard for you?

The first time is a total surprise. Mako flops out of bed, kicking away the tangled sheet as he grunts with frustration. Many nights he experiences nightmares, and he reaches for another body. He doesn’t know who he expects to be there or why. But there’s no one there. It’s just him in his lonesome apartment.

He’s grown tired of Korra and Asami trying to include him in things out of pity. Of course, there’s offers to hang out separately, but in his patheticness he still feels awkward being alone with either of them. He’s also grown tired of Bolin’s attempts to set him up. Nothing seems to click, and he can’t help comparing them to… to… he doesn’t know who, except he does, and it hurts. It’s not Korra or Asami, he’s not quite that bad. Any lingering feelings have turned platonic.

He gets ready for the day, opens the door, and he’s there. Mako abruptly remembers that he doesn’t have work today. Now, he’s not sure whether that’s a positive.

Wu.

Mako intones, “What are you doing here.”

He’s supposed to be on some kind of tour with his… music career. Mako likes many of Wu’s traits that he’d never admit, but his singing leaves a lot to be desired. Nonetheless, something about Wu’s alluring voice attempting to hold a note always makes his heart jump into his throat.

“Is that any way to talk to your old friend?” Wu spreads his arms. Mako is surprised he doesn’t go in for a hug. Perhaps, he’s learned some boundaries.

“Old employer, you mean.” Mako is semi-aware that he’s trying too hard to distance himself. He tried and tried to drop hints about his feelings, and he’s lost hope that Wu will ever see him that way, that he even could.

“Aw come on, after all we’ve been through?” Wu frowns. “I thought I meant a little more to you.”

Mako raises an eyebrow and crosses his arms. “Did you want something or did you just come by to say hello?”

“I thought we could just… talk. I don’t know. I’m bored.”

So, Mako lets him inside. Wu looks around a bit, then shuffles over by a wall where he stands there staring at Mako. He offers, “Are you going to… sit down?”

“No, I’m good.”

“Um… okay.”

They talk. Hours fly by that Mako scarcely notices at first. He has plenty of input in the beginning, but eventually he lays on the bed. He places his hands behind his head, closes his eyes and just listens to his voice, his unexpected insights. Wu speaks of his travels, with plenty of humorous stories.

He vanishes as suddenly as he came. Mako must have fallen asleep, because when he opens his eyes Wu is gone with no sign that he was there.

You are my everything… My head, my heart, my mind, my wing

It takes the second time to hear the edge in Wu’s voice, his deliberate leaning on the light-hearted. Whenever the serious side of his stories seems like it will thicken, he changes course.

This time, he has visited Mako at work. Mako has some backed up paperwork to take care of. A few pages in, he’s slacking and trying to play Pai Sho with himself; it’s not going well. He’s not a keen player to begin with, never as interested in it as Bolin. A hand reaches out and moves a piece. Mako looks up, and there’s Wu.

Mako actually hasn’t noticed the station is empty except for him until this moment.

“Wu… it’s been a few weeks hasn’t it? How are you?”

Wu waves a hand. “Oh you know. Seeing things, meeting people. Did I tell you that time I ran into the swamp chasing that -”

“Right. If you like the swamp so much, maybe you should live there.”

Wu stares at him. His gaze is searching, but Mako is uncertain what he’s looking for.

“Do you want to play?”

“Oh I’m terrible!”

“Well, I’m so great either…”

Wu reaches up to run his fingers through his own hair. He pauses and drops his hand. “I guess we can be terrible… together…”

There’s a twitch of a smile, and Mako realizes his smiles haven’t reached his eyes, not even the last time he saw him.

The past, the present, tomorrow too...

The third time, part of Mako is expecting it. He’s at a spa after all, in a steam room. It was Asami’s suggestion, and it was just going to be them hanging out. Then, somehow everyone else got wind of it and showed up. And by everyone, he means: Korra, Bolin, Opal, Wing and Wei, Tu, Jinora, Kai, even Lin. Not every single person he knows fairly well, but it might as well have been.

He managed to ditch them all at one point. He got a little… overwhelmed when they started talking about Kuvira. He definitely did not start sweating and run out of there like a chickendeer with its head cut off.

Mako’s eyes snap open when he feels a brief and slightly damp sensation on his forehead. Wu grins at him, but his eyes are unfocused. It’s unsettling.

“Did you just… kiss me?”

“Haha sure… oh buddy, the heat must be getting to ya.”

Mako glares at him. He knows what he felt, and there’s no other explanation. He decides not to press the issue. Then, his eyes wander to Wu’s bare torso and his throat tightens. Wu lowers himself to sit beside him. It’s close but not so close as to be brushing against each other. Mako squints. It seems deliberate. Does Wu know about his feelings? Is he grossed out or just trying to spare him the rejection? Mako’s head gets kind of spinny.

This time is mostly silent. Mako - to his own surprise - is the one who tries to start conversation. Wu seems lost in thought though, and his responses are too monosyllabic to work into more. Occasionally, Wu catches Mako’s eye when Mako glances at him. Every time, Mako looks down at his own lap, cheeks heated and not from the steam.

I’ll spend my final day with you

The fourth time, Mako is so shocked it angers him.

It’s a bust gone wrong. He’s tied up, definitely not expecting any visitors. That sonorous voice calls to him, “Heyy Mako. Looks like you’re all tied up, am I interrupting?”

Mako’s face aches where he was punched, one of his eyes is swollen shut, and he’s pretty sure a few ribs are cracked, if not broken. Somehow, he manages to glare at Wu. Then, he panics.

“What are you doing here?!” Mako squirms, but it’s no good. “Get out of here!”

“Nah, I’m good. Can’t stay long though, but I got you a present.” Wu tosses him a knife. There are jewels in the hilt. “Nothing extravagant, but I think you can take it from here? The guard was asleep… they hired a kid, poor thing. He looks to be about… twelve? Maybe you should I dunno, adopt him or something.”

Mako stares at the knife. This has to be one messed up dream resulting from head trauma. “I - I feel too young to be a… a dad to a pre-teen and… I don’t think I’d make a good one.”

“Nonsense! You have just the kind of experience to relate to the kid. Big brother then?”

Because that went so well with Kai, though that was more Bolin’s mission than his. “He’d probably just see me as condescending.”

Wu shrugs. “Well, see you later Mako. I - I hope I can see you again soon.”

He walks out. Not long after, Mako escapes by managing to cut the ropes with his limited range of movement. It helps that the obviously expensive dagger, though probably meant to be decorative, is incredibly sharp. He hoists the kid over his shoulder kicking and screaming, then leaves it up to Lin to sort out. He has too many of his own issues.

Later, when he’s giving his statement, he’s at a loss explaining his escape.

He decides to loosely suggest that the kid helped him out. He’s adopted to a nice family within the week, and Mako sends him an encouraging letter with Bolin’s assistance with the wording. He doesn’t tell a single soul about seeing Wu.

I hope you feel the way I do, I hope you give yourself up too

The fifth time, he gets the immediate sense something is very wrong, and he’s been blind this whole time. He’s walking through the spirit wilds of Republic City, just to clear his head. Wu stumbles out from a tangle of vines. He’s disheveled, a complete wreck. His eyes are wild.

“Mako… Mako…”

“Wu?” For the first time, Mako reaches out to him as though to cradle him.

His hands pass right through him. Mako gasps, his eyes widening. “What - how -”

Wu gives him a pleading look and whispers, “You have to save me Mako… please… if I mean even a quarter to you what you - what you mean to me.”

“Save you…? What do you mean? From what? Are you projecting your spirit or something? Since when can you -”

Wu puts his hand up. “Enough questions. I’ve officially run out of time, Mako. I - I love -”

Then, he fades, just as Mako chokes, “You -”

Mako can’t breathe. He sprints to the station and barges in on Lin.

“Mako? What do you think you’re -”

Mako slams his palms flat on the desk. “It’s Wu!”

Minutes feel like hours. Korra isn’t able to sense him, claiming to Mako’s horror that it means his life force is weak. Eventually, they’ve gathered everyone who has remotely associated with Wu in the last few months. His location is tracked to somewhere in the swamp… which ended up being the result of Mako’s gut feeling based on circumstantial evidence.

The evidence being that Wu somehow brought up the swamp in every conversation. Something that he only vaguely recollects after thinking about it really hard.

Mako finds him first, of course. He’s laying in a muddy ditch, as disheveled as when his spirit most recently appeared. There are scrapes on every inch of skin he can see, and an especially deep wound somewhere in the abdomen. He’s wrapped in glowing vines that may or may not be keeping him on the cusp of life. The blood is difficult to see amongst the mud and vines, but Mako can smell it. He rushes to Wu and kneels down. He gently scoops him up, even though he knows he shouldn’t move him.

It’s probably too late. The vines retreat.

“Wu, please. Please don’t leave me. You were wrong okay? I care about you so, so much.” Mako finally releases his stranglehold on his deepest emotions, and the tears flow. “You need to pull through this, you need to fight so I can - so I can - tell you that I-”

He can’t say the words, not like this, not when he can’t even hear them.

Soon, the others appear. Korra and Kya quickly rush to his side and take over. He stays close. His vision blurring. Someone pulls him away, rambling something. Someone else puts a blanket around his shoulders. Someone says, “It’ll be alright.”

Mako can see the doubt in their eyes.

Mako and Wu are carted in different directions. It feels wrong, to be pulled away from him. However, he doesn’t think he can take it if the worst scenario is true.

How could he miss it?

Mako is numb and quiet as hours or maybe days pass. It’s discovered that Wu met someone claiming to be a scouting agent. Apparently, he had worked with Varrick and Bolin at one point, and that was all that was needed for Wu to trust him.

Mako should’ve never left his side.

It went very south. Wu was innocent in everything, but of course he somehow ended up in the crossfire of a scandal involving spirit vines, former Kuvira followers, and big, big debts. He was nothing but a puppet for some fiend to hide behind.

“I’m in love with him,” Mako says out loud, just so the universe at least can hear it. Of course, he’s overhead by several people. He distantly registers he’s in the air temple. He doesn’t know when that happened.

“...You’re kidding,” Bolin remarks, staring.

“You didn’t know?”

“Dude… I thought you were straight. Everyone knew Wu was into you, but we thought it was an epically tragic case of unreciprocated affection!”

“There’s nothing epic about that,” Mako grumpily mutters. He’d thought himself in that position once, and Bolin is making it sound like fun mover material.

When he explains how he guessed Wu’s location, Lin of all people says, “He was about as obvious as you were with how you felt. That is, too subtle… by the spirits, how could you two be such idiots?”

“I know right? They’re made for each other,” Asami says.

And…

Oh.

“He didn’t know.”

“Probably not, Mako.”

Mako slaps his forehead. “I’m such a moron.”

No one responds to that, but they don’t refute it either. He doesn’t blame them.

I’m damned to feel the way I do

Mako is going to visit Wu. It feels strange the other way around. He carefully crosses the threshold, flowers clutched in his hand. It feels weird, but it also didn’t feel right not to bring anything. This is it, after all; an end and a beginning.

“When I saw you, hurt and lifeless… there are just so many things I wish I had said,” Mako murmurs. “Despite the time I’ve had to think about, I still don’t know what words to choose. I couldn’t even say it to your face, but this is catharsis, I suppose.”

He goes on, “I’m sure you know, when we first met I thought you were one of the most obnoxious people on the planet. Okay, maybe you didn’t know - or if you did, you hid it well. Somewhere along the line I started to see… what a truly amazing and strong person you are.”

“You really impressed me with how you had grown,” Mako continues. His chest aches. He’s not sure what he’s doing. He takes a few steps closer and drops to his knees. “I can’t imagine a world without you in it. I couldn’t even bring myself to tell you goodbye. Every stupid little thing you would do became so endearing, it made me so - so stupid. A stupid fool in l-”

He still can’t get the word out, not when addressing Wu without him being there. Silence falls as Mako loses the strength to talk. He wipes at his dampened cheek feebly with his sleeve.

“What happened to my big tough guy? Not that there’s an -” A pause and a weak cough. “Anything wrong with being touchy-feely. Good for you.”

Mako drops the flowers, and he rushes so fast to stand that his knee rams into the metal bed frame. He winces, then he looks at Wu, and his minor pain evaporates. Wu’s eyes are half-lidded, his knuckles pale where he’s clutching the sheet. He’s clearly struggling to stay awake. However, he gives Mako a lopsided smile, his beautiful eyes twinkling.

“It’s a good thing you don’t have to, huh? Be in a world without me that is,” Wu mutters.

Mako reaches to brush his hair to the side.

“Sure scared me though. You should rest.”

“I’m just excited you’ve come to see me,” Wu admits. “Stay with me?”

Without hesitation, Mako squeezes himself onto the cot. “Of course. I’m here. I love you.”

Wu grins wide enough that it doesn’t really look comfortable. “Mako I -”

Wu breaks away to cough again. “I love you too, big guy.”

“I wonder, do you remember visiting me?” Mako murmurs, “Do you remember coming to me when you were unconscious? How did you do that?”

“Whaaat? I’m not exactly Mr. Spiritual Guru. How would I do that?” Wu adds, “Also, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Huh. Maybe I had cracked and hallucinated it.”

“Or, or, your spirit was the one reaching out and pulling me to you! Because we’re deeply connected.”

“Pfft. It was probably the spirit vines.”

“Yeah... probably.”

Wu cracks a yawn, and his eyelids droop. Mako kisses him on the forehead. His lip has a bad split, so this will do. Wu snuggles into him, and Mako knows the meaning of true peace.

#wuko #lok #my fic #spooktober #obe #character injury /#5+1 bc why not #not very confident with writing these two but ooh well #here it is #canon divergence #because I need to re-read the comics someday #I don't remember anything #so there isn't really references to those

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zirkkun · 4 years ago

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a suffering aftermath.

a suffering aftermath. (Undertale Fanfic - based off of huntsman. by @alch3mic - rated M by AO3 standards)

+ huntsman!sans/lil red!reader (though instead written with they/them because;; self indulgence)

+ 1241 words, english

+ hurt/comfort with yandere elements. this is a rant fic based on parts of huntsman. that reminded me very much of of my own life. lowkey i guess “based on a true story” cause it’s my life lol

+ takes place after the events of huntsman., which you should totally read btw

+ “He thought it would be over once they were dead. Unfortunately, there are some scars left behind that cannot be healed. And he hates them with every fiber of his being.”

+ AO3 link

"You know... I'm glad that my stalker is gone, but..." They bit their lip as they spoke. "I always fear they're going to come back."

Sans turned to his human, a brow raised, the faint noise of the television still playing the movie the two of them had been watching. "what brings this up?" he asked.

"I... I dunno," they confess. "I was just thinking about it again." Pulling their legs up onto the couch, they held their head up by resting it against their knees. "I... I don't know if you know this, but... I had troubles with them long before they were my co-worker. In high school." There was a long pause between this confession and their continuation, eyes flipping between the television, the floor, and Sans's face eagerly awaiting the rest of their story. A sigh slipped passed their lips. "We'd met in middle school and were friends for a while, but it wasn't long until they were really clingy in... really physical ways. I... I really hated it. So I started just ignoring them, cause I didn't know what else to do. But they had my email, so they kept emailing me..."

For a moment, they tried to distract themself from the memory of it by watching the movie in front of them instead, but it was clear by Sans's motion of wrapping an arm around their waist and bringing them closer to him that he wanted to hear more of the story. Caving to this, they timidly continued. "They sent me a lot of horrible things, Sans. Long winded explanations of their abuse. Endlessly typo-filled letters of their love for me. Graphic descriptions of their sex life. Threats that they would cut themself or even kill themself if I didn't reply or accept them as if they weren't flawed. I was so scared. I didn't know what to do." It was beyond their control: tears started to trickle down their cheeks as they started to remember everything all at once. At the very least, Sans's gentle rubbing against their back was a bit calming, but it didn't stop the horror overwhelming their mind.

"E-eventually the emails stopped but... the stalker came back. It's almost like they were reignited the second I had a boyfriend." Sans repressed his resentment to hearing such a phrase, but soon pushed it aside with the reminder he could not change his human's life from before him. It only moderately settled his nerves. "The threats they made to him... he later ended up being just as abusive as they were, but so subtle and positive about it that I didn't even realize, but, stars, if anything happened to him because of me?" They shook their head aggressively, words cracking as they fell out of their mouth. "I don't know what I'd do with myself."

Sans couldn't bare to listen to their crying anymore. He pulled them even closer, embracing them completely in a hug and nuzzled into their neck, trying to carefully shush them as their cries refused to cease. Burying their face into the fabric of Sans's black hoodie, they tried to get a grip on their emotions again before saying anything; their hands were death gripping the back of his sweatshirt, trembling as they tried to calm their ever stuttering breath. "S-sorry," they eventually whimpered.

"for what, sweetheart?" Sans whispered. "it's ok. i'm here for ya. just say what you've got to."

Swallowing heavy, and while appreciating his kind words, they couldn't help but feel guilty for suddenly dropping such a heavy topic on him out of nowhere. Ah, it was just like them, wasn't it? To once again ruin a nice date night Sans had planned for the two of them... Their grip on his shirt tightened.

"Ha, ha..." They let out a nervous laugh, trying to sound at least a little more uplifted. "Can you really believe all that happened when I was 15...? And it wasn't even half of it..." They took another heavy breath before continuing, trying to suspend their hiccuping weeps for at least a brief time. "When it got to the end of high school, they desperately tried becoming friends with me again. We had a singular class together... and every time it rolled around it sent me into a silent panic attack. Sometimes they tried passing me notes through a 'mutual friend'... sometimes they'd hang up signs on their desk during class directed at me... and like six or seven times they made alternate accounts to try and follow me online and become friends that way... as someone else I didn't call a stalker. Every time I blocked them, they called me out, creating so much drama that I lost all the friends and bits of internet fame I'd built over the years..." They tucked their head further down. "Sorry, you don't care about that..."

"i care about everything that has to do with you," Sans blurted. "everything."

But they still weren't so sure, and skipped the topic anyway. No, they were sure he wouldn't care about how they had to make a new internet personality entirely. That was off topic at this point. Rather, the more important point...

"You know they found me again. They got the same job as me. They tried working with me. They tried asking me out again. They tried asking to be friends again. They threatened me again. They... They even learned where I lived and stalked me for weeks--"

"i know, i know," Sans hushed. "but they're not gonna hurt you anymore."

"But how can you be so sure...?"

"have I lied to you before, sweetheart?"

His coy tone. He knew the truth. But it's not like he would ever dare say anything.

To them, his voice sounded merely playful. Reassuringly positive.

... to an extent.

"No..." they mumbled, though some part of them wasn't wholly confident; speaking against his hoodie. "No, you haven't."

Sans pressed a soft kiss against their neck. "and i'm not gonna, ok? you can trust me. they're never going to hurt you ever again. not while i'm here for you."

The television continued through the movie, which was reaching its end. A pity. So close to a normal evening. But it was fine for now. The reasoning was legitimate enough. Sans was even finding himself a bit devastated at the sight of his Little Red's tears. Their genuine tears. Each one crushed him. Fueled his anger.

Hunting the enemy had been easy.

Dealing with the mess they caused was not.

Had this stalker not already been long dead and disposed of, Sans would have dropped everything to kill them right now. Anything to stop these tears from dripping down his precious human's cheeks. But now, there was nothing to express his fury onto. He could do nothing for now other than hold them close, despite how every passing second of hearing that traumatized sob practically cracked his Soul, bit by suffering bit.

Why is this not so easily dealt with?

Why can't he just... throw what's unnecessary away?

Why can't this motherfucking rat leave his Little Red Riding Hood alone?

Sans held them just a bit tighter. A bit more desperately. "i'm here for you, sweetheart," he reminded once again. He even grimaced as they held a tighter grip on his jacket, practically feeling their pain as if it was his own.

"nothing bad is ever gonna happen to you again."

#undertale #undertale fanfic #sans undertale #huntsman!sans #yandere tw//#past abuse tw//#hurt/comfort #oneshot #rant fic #zircon writes #undertale au

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spacetimewraithwrites-archive · 4 years ago

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Word Prompt #10 - NSFW

Word: Honorific WIP: Thriving series CW: 18+ only, my fellow humans(?), for this is…not in any way safe for work whatsoever. Word Count: 1,922 Additional Notes: This is directly following up another WP piece of mine, Beard, and uh yeah. Also, I’m kinda glad I originally pulled this cuz I made a few minor changes to it.

***

Possibly two feet from the bedroom door was when Warren realized he was in the midst of experiencing the most difficult anticipatory moments of his life, and he glanced from his bags in Thrive’s arms up to the beautiful beard growth over the sharp angles of his jaw, the silver pin keeping the small bun of hair in place, and wanted so badly to knock the luggage out of his clutches and throw himself at him right in the middle of the hallway.

Thrive, however, had slightly different plans. He allowed Warren into the bedroom first, kicked the door closed behind him, and set the bags on the floor at his feet. Then from all but nowhere shot his hand to grab Warren’s throat and shove him back into the wall with barely restrained effort.

“Oh, fuck,” Warren managed to gasp before Thrive silenced him by claiming his mouth, the urgency of their kiss very apparent right off the bat. Warren pulled him closer by the hips, slid his hands up his back, clutched him around the ribs, weak in the knees from letting Thrive run his tongue over his bottom lip while simultaneously giving his mind permission to curl around his psyche, to return home where it was familiar and warm.

Warren reached up to remove the pin holding Thrive’s hair together, and he couldn’t even pull away to get a look at it as he was too busy reeling from the thigh that had made its way between his legs and the fingers creeping their way into his hair. Somewhat luckily, their mental connection allowed him to foresee it when Thrive decided to grip his mahogany locks and tug his head to the side, grazing his teeth over his throat and inhaling deeply.

“Hmm,” he murmured, and Warren could feel his husky timbre vibrating in his sternum. Thrive pressed his mouth to Warren’s ear. “This smell is unfamiliar.”

Heat roiled in Warren’s stomach and all of the blood in his head made a quick and terrible nosedive in the complete opposite direction. “This smell is possibly a whole month of being in the wilds of Logoryt.”

“We’ll just have to fix that, won’t we?” Thrive said, his voice barely a whisper as he deftly moved down the succession of Warren’s shirt buttons with one hand. “You and I both know the only scent that should be on your skin is mine.”

He’d growled the last word and Warren’s knees nearly buckled, though the thigh between his legs did a good job keeping him upright. “This is…probably the most functionally deficient I’ve ever been in my life—”

Thrive kissed him again, his beard barely scratching against his face, and it only became clear that he’d finished unbuttoning Warren’s red and gray flannel when his fingers found the strained zipper of his jeans and he dusted his knuckles across the swollen shape.

Warren, who’d been touch-starved for about an entire year, quickly pressed Thrive’s hand to himself and kept him still, biting his lip almost hard enough to draw blood. “Ah…careful. I’m a bad gust of wind away from ending this whole thing.”

Thrive’s eyes glittered with a thought. “Is that so….”

Warren didn’t even have the chance to confirm before Thrive sank to his knees, popping his jeans open and releasing him in one fluid movement. He curled an arm around the underside of Warren’s thigh and pinned him against the wall.

“Hey, now, wait a minute, wasn’t I supposed to be the one—OH! My fucking god—” Warren’s head smacked the wall upon Thrive’s mouth enveloping him, and it was all he could do not to buck forward, though that proved moot once Thrive’s other hand gripped his hip to keep him still. “Yeah, shit, I can't—”

“You can,” Thrive said against him, tightly squeezing him and inciting an inconsequential amount of pain to keep him in check. “And you will.”

Warren took a few deep breaths through his nose, his legs already shaking. “I’m gonna die here and it’s your fault.”

Thrive slid his hand up Warren’s stomach and stroked him slowly, angling a crooked grin in his direction. “What a way to go.”

Warren ran his fingers through Thrive’s chin-length hair and cradled the back of his head well into finding himself back in his mouth, screwing his eyes shut and simultaneously enjoying the sensations and doing his absolute best to keep himself going for just a little longer.

“Okay,” he panted, cupping Thrive’s face as a warning. “Okay, okay, okay….”

Thrive pulled back, but instead of stopping, he continued to stroke him, watching him intently. He used his other hand to flip his hair to one side and made direct eye-contact with Warren. “I don’t think you realize who’s in charge this morning.”

With a loud groan and a sharp cant of his hips, Warren writhed against the wall, full-body shivers overwhelming him and practically uprooting him as Thrive encouraged everything out of him. His limbs turned to jelly and he didn’t notice Thrive had begun to remove his jeans for him altogether.

“God,” Warren said forcefully. “I think I gotta leave home more often….”

Thrive stood. “Bed.”

Blinking away his lightheadedness, Warren glanced at him. “I dunno if I can walk, babe.”

Thrive curled his fingers around him again, causing him to inhale sharply and hiss through clenched teeth. “…You will address me by my honorific.”

Warren groaned again. “Mm…sorry…Your Majesty.”

“Get on the bed.”

He sat on the edge, watching Thrive carefully remove his cape and peel off the few layers of his robes and flushing a deep crimson when his hair caught the light of the sun through the window.

“On your stomach,” Thrive ordered.

Warren shivered again, doing as instructed. “Wanna get this thing out of the way?” he asked, tugging the collar of his shirt.

Thrive rummaged around the drawers of Warren’s dresser. “No.”

The fabric of his bedspread made Warren’s sensitive skin tingle. “I gotta say this is kinda hitting on a fantasy of mine,” he said sheepishly. “I’ve spent years daydreaming about you, uh, dominating me and….” He scratched his temple. “The choking thing was really doin’ it for me.”

“The idea of me breaking you in half arouses you?”

“Fuck yes,” Warren laughed. “Yeah, exactly. The fact that you could is like…combined with the fact that you’re super smart is just….”

Thrive had meandered back over to the bed. “Talk more of what turns you on about me.”

“So many things,” Warren said, fully aware of the snap of a bottle opening and the scent of synthetic peach filling the air, and his gut tightened in response to the bed sinking beneath his knees. “Your eyes are so gorgeous, the way you talk to me sometimes is so hot, and your body….” He dropped his head to the mattress when he felt a hand at the small of his back. “…Is incredible.”

“This is not my body, Warren,” Thrive murmured.

Warren clutched the bedspread with tight fists as Thrive’s coated fingers found their target and sent a wave of electricity through him. “Yeah…yeah, I know that….”

“If I were to become natural at this very moment, would you still feel as unraveled and vulnerable as you do now?”

Warren couldn’t hold back the laugh that burst forth from him again. “If you became natural right now while you’re doing what you’re doing I would actually explode without further prompting.”

There was a curious pause from Thrive as he continued to touch Warren, hot palm caressing his back and the curve of his backside as his other hand prepped him. “…That is good to know.”

Warren’s grip on the bedspread only tightened when Thrive pulled him back by the hem of his shirt, then his hips and sheathed himself within him. “Ah, god….”

“Up,” Thrive grunted, and with his help Warren pushed himself upward so Thrive could wrap an arm around his midsection and hold him tight to his chest, finding a pace that drew the most sounds out of him. He tugged on Warren’s earlobe with his teeth. “Right…I’m not letting you out of this house again.”

Warren’s head dropped back onto a broad shoulder, his emotions swirling together with Thrive’s. “I…can’t see myself arguing with that at the moment….”

The sun eventually reached its peak in the sky and Thrive flipped Warren onto his back, his hand once again tight but safe around his throat, and Warren hooked his legs around Thrive’s waist for leverage, and between all of that and the fact that they were in full view of anyone who happened to fly by the window at that time—

“Oh, fuck, Thrive,” Warren groaned, overwhelmed with heat and the rise of pleasure in their mental connection.

“Say it,” Thrive growled.

“Your Majesty—!”

Thrive arched himself over Warren and threw a dark leg over his shoulder, rolling his hips into him a few times before Warren couldn’t contain himself any more and let go, pulling Thrive’s face down to kiss him hard and dig his nails into the flesh of his back, releasing cries of ecstasy that he was suddenly glad no one else was in the house to hear.

Slowing to a stop, Thrive smoothed Warren’s hair down on his head and instantly collapsed beside him, holding him in his arms as Warren came down from his euphoric state.

“Holy shit,” Warren panted, throwing an arm over his face to hide the tears streaming down the sides of his head. “That was so fucking amazing….”

Thrive stroked the side of his face. “You’re alright?”

“I’m shaking….” Warren held his hands up to look at them and chuckled. “God, yeah, I’m great.”

“Was it too much for you?”

“No. No…no, you could’ve even pushed harder, to be honest.”

“I worry about hurting you.”

Warren turned his head to look Thrive in the eye, a bit taken aback. His chest heaved with his efforts to catch his breath. “I mean, everyone’s got a limit, but…a little pain isn’t too bad. Is it?”

Thrive linked his and Warren’s hands together and brought his knuckles up to his lips. “As long as you’re fine with what transpired here.”

“Are you?”

“Truthfully, I only had you in mind.” Thrive shook his head to keep his hair out of his face, and he smiled when Warren raked his nails through his beard. “I only ever have you in mind.”

He dropped his head low to meet Warren in another kiss.

“Damn,” Warren whispered. “I’m so glad to be home.”

“Well,” Thrive replied, “I very slightly meant what I said about keeping you here. It’s always a ruin to contentment without you at my side at all times.”

They lay in quiet for a moment, gazing into each other, and Warren held his face in his hands.

“Let’s do this again,” he murmured. “But keep looking at me just like that.”

Thrive obliged him, and they spent the rest of the day in bed, making up for lost time, until Warren had nothing left within him to spend, and the start of the sunset called for a long nap in each others’ arms with the view of the three moons of Tournaltis curving across the sky and the waking desert lights bobbing over the distant shore.

“Love you, Your Majesty,” Warren mumbled sleepily beneath Thrive’s jaw.

Thrive tucked a hand comfortably into the waistband of Warren’s sweatpants at the small of his back. “Love you as well, Your Highness.”

Warren smiled against his skin.

***

NSFW tag list (ask to be added or removed!): @pertinax--loculos @dontdowhatisayandnobodygetshurt @biscottibitch @drabbleitout @holidaysong

#word prompt #hey that's rated R #I just want to make sure I didn't add anybody to the 18+ tag list on accident #so if you were tagged and don't want to be in the future I will gladly oblige!

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sanderssidesfanfiction · 4 years ago

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If There’s a Place I Could Be - Chapter Seventy

If There’s a Place I Could Be Tag

August 27th, 2000

Emile was trying not to bounce around looking at everything on campus, but he couldn’t deny the spring in his step. He was so excited to be around a real college, that he was going to be attending! He was looking forward to this more than words could say, honestly.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw another tour group, and noticed one of the guys in it trudging along at the back of the group. Emile inwardly frowned. He had seen this guy around campus a couple times, and every time he looked like he would rather be anywhere else.

Emile resolved to say hi to him at some point. After all, everyone needed at least one friend, and this guy looked like he didn’t have any yet.

August 26th, 2002

Emile led the wide-eyed freshman around the campus with a small smile. All of them were so excitable, chattering about the possibilities of no longer living with their parents, of being able to meet new friends, of getting jobs and being adults. The freshmen were allowed to wander the campus for a bit, and Emile sat down on one of the benches with a sigh. Hesitantly, one of the freshmen from another group approached him. “Uh...sorry to bother you, are you Emile?”

“Yeah, that’s me,” he said, offering a tired grin. “Completely exhausted and certifiably insane, according to my boyfriend.”

“Oh. Um, I can go if you want a break...”

“Nah, it’s okay, sit down,” Emile sat, patting the bench beside him. “What’s eating at you?”

The kid sat down, fiddled with his hands, staring at his lap, then, he looked at Emile and blurted, “I’m not sure if I want to go to college.”

Emile nodded. “Okay.”

“Okay?” the kid asked. “Everyone I told before just...laughed.”

“I’m not everyone,” Emile said simply. “You’re part of Clara’s group, aren’t you?”

“Uh, yeah. She said I should talk to you about this because of your boyfriend. Um. He’s not part of the freshman orientation, is he?”

Emile laughed. “No!” he exclaimed. “Remy dropped out of college his freshman year and never looked back.”

“Oh,” the kid said. “He doesn’t...regret it?”

“No,” Emile said. “College just wasn’t for him. And that’s perfectly okay for anyone. Granted, he doesn’t talk to his parents anymore, but that’s an entirely different layer of complicated.”

“My parents...they’re kinda overbearing,” the kid said with a grimace. “They didn’t like any of the majors I might have been interested in. They made me choose pre-med. I would have rather gone with English, if I went with anything at all. I know there’s not a lot of jobs for English majors...but I’m not sure about college, period. And I would want to learn what I wanted to learn about.”

Emile nodded. “Makes sense. I’m sorry your parents are like that.”

“Eh. I mean, fourteen years of school later and I have a PhD and no reason to talk to them anymore,” the kid said with a weak smile. “But I don’t want to be here. I don’t like it. I just...I would rather have a minimum wage job for the rest of my life. I could live through retail, and like...maybe I wouldn’t make the most money, but I could do something, you know?”

“Yeah,” Emile said with a nod. “That’s what my boyfriend is doing. Two minimum wage jobs and I work a third, so we get the bills paid and we have food on the table.”

The kid blew out a breath. “I’m jealous,” he said with a weak laugh.

“What’s your name?” Emile asked.

“Darren,” the kid said.

“Darren, I’m going to tell you a secret,” Emile said, putting a hand on his shoulder. “You can change your major to whatever you want, and your parents don’t have a say. They don’t need to sign off on it. You’re an adult, you can do it all on your own. Now, I wouldn’t recommend dropping out of college just yet, because if you can get through it without harm, it can help you. But if you really would rather work retail, maybe get a Communications or a Business degree. Those could help you become a manager someplace. Get a job, get your foot in the door, and work your way up the corporate ladder, you know?”

Darren nodded slowly. “I guess...” he said reluctantly. “What if I burn out, though? I’ve already done so much school, more just seems overwhelming...”

“If you burn out you’re under no obligation to continue,” Emile said. “But I of course have to tell you to give it a shot first, if for no other reason than because I’m currently promoting the college.” Darren laughed at that. “Did that answer some of your questions?”

“Yeah,” Darren said, giving him a relieved smile. “College isn’t the only way to go. You know, I think I’m gonna change my major when school starts. And after that, I’ll call my parents and explain. Maybe if they hear how I feel directly from me, they’ll change their mind. In all honesty, I think I could be happiest at a trade school. Maybe they could help me with that.”

“I hope so,” Emile said with a smile. “And if not, you can do it on your own. It won’t be easy, but you can.”

“Yeah. Thanks, Emile,” Darren said, standing.

“Of course!” Emile chirped. “If you ever want to talk more, Clara has an uncanny sense of where I might be at any given time. She can find me.”

Darren laughed with a nod and walked away, a small, hopeful smile on his face.

“You didn’t tell me you’re already a therapist, Emile,” Remy said from behind him.

“I’m not. I’m just a good listener. I listen to what you say and I listen to what he says, and then I use what you’ve told me to talk to him,” Emile said, looking back over the bench with a smile. “What’s up?”

“Just checking on you. Seeing how you’re faring with the gremlins,” Remy said with a grin as he leaned on the back of the bench.

“We were those gremlins not so long ago,” Emile reminded him.

“Ugh, I know. Definitely not my finest moments,” Remy said with an exaggerated shudder and eye-roll.

Emile laughed and Remy rounded the bench to sit with him. “So, how’s everything, mio amore? Are you attacked with nostalgia or are you cringing at the thought that you were bouncier than most of these freshmen?”

“Nostalgia, I guess, although I don’t really get either of those,” Emile said. “I’m more...astounded. Like, these kids are going to be going out into the world on their own in four years, possibly sooner. Looking back on what we did, I’m shocked that we could achieve that. You’re eighteen, nineteen years old, you know you’re not invincible but you still feel like you have a grip on everything, like you understand the world enough to do things on your own...and now we’re sitting here, twenty and twenty one, and we’re both just laughing at how wrong we were.”

Remy nodded. “Brain development is a bitch,” he said simply.

Emile barked out a laugh, clamping a hand over his mouth as he shook in his laughter. “Remy! That’s rude! These kids are technically adults!”

“Technically,” Remy pointed out. “And you just called them kids.”

“Look,” Emile said, trying his hardest to remain serious and failing. “All I’m saying is that looking backwards is weird, knowing what you thought but now realizing that it was so wrong.”

Remy sighed. “Yeah.” He got a glint in his eye that Emile didn’t like. “So I have a question based on that,” he said, waggling his eyebrows.

“I don’t like where this is going. Ask me,” Emile said.

“Do you think you’d still donate your sperm today?” Remy asked with a wicked grin.

“Remy!” Emile exclaimed, whacking Remy with his arm. “Can you imagine what would happen if one of the students I was supposed to be teaching about the campus overheard that question?”

“I imagine they’d ask if you got any money for it,” Remy said with a shrug. “Would you?”

Emile made a noise in the back of his throat. “Yeah, probably,” he said. “And I wouldn’t be anonymous, either. Those kids have the right to know where they came from, and if I get sick later down the line they should know there’s a risk for that. I might not be so convinced that someone would actually use it, but...”

“Hey, Emile, you’re cute, you’re smart, and you’re probably gonna end up with a PhD one day. You’d be a catch for any lady at the sperm bank,” Remy said definitively.

“You say that,” Emile laughed. “I don’t know exactly how much you’ll believe it later down the line, when we get older. We’ll probably look back at that decision one day and figure out that I was stupid.”

“Nah, I don’t think so,” Remy said. “You wanted to help families become families. That’s not stupid, that’s admirable.”

“So would you donate yours?” Emile asked.

Remy choked and stared at Emile. “No,” he said. “No. I’ve never had a deep-rooted desire to have a family, whether that’s through donating my sperm or settling down and adopting. Like, I’m not against families, you know? But when it comes to being a dad, I don’t know how well I’d do.”

“How come?” Emile asked.

Remy shrugged. “I dunno. Like, I would not want to end up being like my parents were, you know? And I could overcompensate trying to not be them and wind up ignoring kids, or I could fall back into old habits and hurt them. Like. Okay, looking at us ten to twenty years from now. Assuming we’re still together. Were we to adopt. Could I see myself being a competent dad? I guess. There’s a lot I’d have to work through to get to that point, though.”

“Are you talking, like...therapy, or...?” Emile asked.

Remy sighed. “Emile, I don’t need a therapist. Not at this point in time, maybe not ever after this, you know? But in this hypothetical situation, I could see unforeseen circumstances making me panic and possibly needing to...talk that through with someone. So maybe I don’t need therapy now. But if we’re talking hypotheticals, I’m not blind. I know there could be issues that come up with kids. So in that one specific circumstance, there’s the possibility I’d need therapy. You happy?”

“Is it bad if I say yes?” Emile asked with a little laugh. “Because I’m just glad that you could see yourself needing help and accepting that help.”

Remy wrinkled his nose. “It’s not needing help, it’s therapy.”

Emile blinked. “That’s...those two things are exactly the same, Rem.”

“No, like...therapy is for people with PTSD, or people who got seriously hurt, or people who are stereotypically seen as ‘crazy,’ much as I hate that term,” Remy said. “It’s not just about needing help with, like, feeling like you have a dead-end job or whatever.”

“Rem, that’s exactly what it is,” Emile said. “Therapy is help with whatever is bugging you in your life at that moment. So you went to therapy because your parents were making you suicidal. That doesn’t mean that it can’t help with smaller things.”

Remy squinted at Emile, and Emile rolled his eyes. “I can’t believe we’re back to arguing about this. We went through this freshman year, Rem!”

“Yeah, but you’re...you’re describing it differently,” Remy said.

“Not really,” Emile said. “You’re seeing it in a different light, because you’ve matured.”

Remy frowned. “I don’t get therapy. I just don’t.”

“That’s okay, since you’re not the one training to be a therapist,” Emile said with a little laugh. “Although, I will say that I agree with you, by and large. You don’t need a therapist.”

Remy looked shocked. “You’re agreeing with me on that one?”

“You’re well-adjusted, all things considered,” Emile said with a shrug. “Whether or not you want therapy or could benefit from therapy is a different question. But right now, you don’t need a therapist.”

“I...wow,” Remy said. “That may be the first time you’ve ever said that I don’t need mental help.”

“I hate when you phrase it like that,” Emile said. “It makes you sound like you’re that stereotypical ‘crazy person.’ People who go to therapy just need help, period. Not in the ‘they’re hopeless’ way, but in the ‘they’re struggling and this is how they find their footing’ way.”

Remy considered. “And that’s all it is?”

“That’s all it is,” Emile said. “And you don’t need a therapist, and I won’t force you to find one. But I will say that if you do ever need help again, there’s no shame in that.”

“...Yeah,” Remy said. “I think I’m starting to figure that out.”

#if there's a place i could be #sanders sides fanfiction #remile #emile picani #ts sleep

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go-whump-in-the-night · 5 years ago

Text

Two paladins - Lorenzo and Thaddeus - hide out in a cave on a rainy night, after escaping from a group of bandits who had a personal grudge against Tad. Both are grievously wounded, but Lorenzo has taken the brunt of the vicious torture that had been inflicted on the two knights. Now, Tad is trying his best to patch up a feverish Lorenzo’s left hand, which has been mutilated beyond recognition. (A/N: This is an excerpt from a much longer collab between my partner and I. It’s got some nice cartaker fluff, as well as some painful healing and a good deal of caretaker angst. Enjoy!) TW: Graphic depictions of gore/body horror

Thaddeus smiled and glanced back down to Lorenzo, “Well, shall we lie you down and have a look at your arm then?”

Lorenzo nodded and braced his good arm on the ground once again, gritting his teeth and pushing himself off of Tad's lap and onto the bedroll. He felt an uncomfortable tugging from the sensitive flesh on his back, but ignored it and quickly rolled over.

Perhaps a bit too quickly; Renzo hissed in a sharp breath of air as he laid on his back and felt the fabric of the mat press into his injuries. He pushed past it though. Even injured as much as he was, Renzo's pride was enough that he wanted to do at least some things on his own.

“He really did a number on it, figlio di puttana…” Renzo spat, holding up his left arm and forcing himself to glare at the hideous mess that had been his hand.

Tad moved to sit cross legged at Lorenzo’s left side, holding his hands out around the arm, “Oof. Yes he did. Gods damned monster…” He gently grasped hold of the ruined appendage, careful to let Renzo see his movements so the ifrit could brace for the touch.

“Hm… Renzo I’m going to need to feel the arm and hand a small amount, just to assess the damage. Tell me if it’s too much at any point and I’ll stop.” Tad gave a serious sidelong glance, “And no bravado, alright? I’m checking the extent of the damage, I don’t want to accidentally cause any more! Anything more than a twinge or ache and you tell me.”

Tad began to press around the flesh of Lorenzo’s forearm, “Tell you what, let me ask a question whilst I check this. What’s your favorite kind of weather? Me, I actually like rainy days on most occasions. I find them soothing.”

“Tch…” Lorenzo winced, watching Tad closely as he pressed the badly bruised flesh, “I s’pose...I mean, sunny is pretty cliche, but I like sunny days. Bright sunlight at just before noon, when the rays are shining through the tree line.”

His voice took on a wistful quality and he smiled slightly, though his brows were still furrowed a bit with pain. “And those mornings where there's a mist on the ground and the sun sort of shines through it. What do you call that? Dissipates? I love that...It's sort of, I dunno, dreamlike.”

Tad smiled, “Ooh, I’d never considered that. You’re right, dreamlike is a good way to put it. So many different ways for the sun to greet the horizon…”

Tad tried to keep from frowning as he felt up Renzo’s arm. Gods, Kraes broke both forearm bones, and then twisted. Ugh, torn and damaged muscle, bone fragments. Going to need to set this…

Tad gently moved his way up Lorenzo’s arm to his mangled hand, “And dappled sunlight is probably my favorite. I love the patterns the light makes as leaves move in the wind. It’s like the ground is dancing.” Tad laughed, “Actually, would you believe I used to dance with the shadows of trees when I was very young?”

“Y’know, Tad, somehow I find that very easy to believe,” said Renzo with an amused smirk, “You strike me as someone who's been in motion for as long as you could- mph! B-be careful…”

Renzo's tone had suddenly changed as Tad moved up to his bisected hand, a note of fear and trepidation entering his voice. Tad felt him instinctively flinch his hand away a bit, though only slightly. Here was where it hurt the worst, where Kraes had pulverized the tiny bones in his fingers and then stabbed straight through the hand itself. Looking at it now, the pain seemed worse, and Renzo grit his teeth, bracing for Tad’s touch, gentle as it was.

“Oh dear.” Tad hesitated, holding Lorenzo’s wrist as he looked over the hand. A worried expression furrowed his brow as he held finger out, tracing in the air over the mangled digits of the hand without touching it.

“Renzo, I won’t sugarcoat this: It’s bad. If you’d like to know the um… exact details of the damage I can oblige. But just looking over this, I…” Tad paused, gathering his thoughts.

“We can heal this.” He said deliberately, “With mundane preparation, we can make the limb usable with a good dose of healing magic.” Tad motioned at the line where the hand had been bisected. “This will essentially be healed. As will the fingers. But it will be very stiff, not good for fine manipulation, and the bones will be fragile. But!”

Tad held up a finger, “After the first bout of healing, your hand will be fully healed with a single casting of Regenerate. Which I… can’t do.” Tad frowned, “The best I can do is take away the pain.” He sat for a moment, the sound of the rain outside filling the silence as he held Renzo’s wrist.

“There’s just one problem. I can set the arm just fine, but the fingers…” Tad grimaced, “They’re bad. Very bad. I’m going to need to um… to twist them back.” Tad glanced to the side nervously, “Back into shape, basically. And I don’t have a way to numb them.” He looked down to Renzo with a look of apology.

“But I do have something you can bite down on.”

Lorenzo exhaled slowly, flicking his gaze up to the ceiling of the cave for a moment. He could feel his chest tensing up in dismay and forced the sensation back. This was Tad here, after all. Renzo was safe, he had to remember that.

“Yeah, alright…” he said, voice tight, “If it's gotta be done, it's gotta be done. What the hell.”

He looked back over at Tad and forced a sudden grin onto his face. His heart beat roughly in his chest, making his breaths a little shallow. He fought to disguise the fear welling up inside him.

“Don't worry about me; do what you have to, Tad.”

Tad took a deep breath, “Okay. I don’t want to delay too much, best to get it over with quickly.” He stood, wincing, and walked over to Aria. “I will say, it’s best if I just do each finger in short succession.” He pulled out a small strip of leather, and walked back over to Lorenzo, sitting down with a grunt.

“That said, if at any point it becomes overwhelming, tell me to stop and I’ll stop. We should do this now, but we can take it at a pace you can manage.” Tad offered the leather to Lorenzo, “Here, you can bite on this.”

His voice was calm and matter of fact, but Thaddeus’ face betrayed the worry he felt in that moment.

Taking the little leather strip, Lorenzo took a few deep breaths and then lay back into the bedroll. He placed the leather in his mouth and readjusted so his mutilated hand was resting on Tad’s lap.

Renzo looked over at Tad, trying to keep his expression neutral. He nodded that he was ready; his whole body was tense, but Renzo tried to reassure Tad with his eyes. The last thing he wanted was for Tad to feel guilty for helping him.

Tad tried to steady his breathing. He frowned as he looked over the fingers again. Gods, his little finger is practically backwards. Tad looked to Renzo once more, straightening himself a little as he saw the look in his friend’s eye, “I’m going to start with the pinky, and work my way over. I’d advise against spitting the strip out until the pain fades, just slap the ground with your good arm if you want me to stop.”

Tad moved his hands into position around the broken digits, mentally going over the movement he’d need make. Need to do this quickly and smoothly. He took a deep breath, “If you must arch your back, try to press into the ground, you’ll move less that way.”

With a small nod to himself, Tad grasped Renzo’s pinky and wrenched it around, pressing it back into roughly its former position with his fingers. There was a faint sound of grinding bone. Tad grimaced in concentration.

“Nnnnnghhhh…!!” Renzo shut his eyes tightly, gripping at the bedroll with his right hand as he felt the hideous sensation of his pulverized bones being twisted along with the flesh.

Four more to go, just four more…

Already Lorenzo’s breathing was shallow. It didn't hurt as badly as the initial breaking, but it was damned close.

Tad held the finger firmly in place for just an instant. This was his element. His mind was racing, but his thoughts were calm and analytical.

Hold it for an instant. Don’t press too hard. Just need the basic shape. Healing can do the rest.

Tad gave the finger a final gentle press, as if to encourage it to keep its shape, before moving to the ring finger. Repeat before the pain fades. Don’t give it time to register. Hold his palm don’t let him jerk.

Tad grasped the finger and repeated the process, wrenching it back into place. He tried not to let his disgust show on his face as he felt the shattered remains of Lorenzo’s fingerbones shift about inside the flesh of his finger.

“Stay with me, Renzo, I have you.” Tad muttered as he moved to the middle finger.

Renzo gripped the fabric of the bedroll tighter, another low, agonized moan pulling out of his body as the finger was twisted back into shape. He breathed harshly through his nose, a tremor moving through him as intense waves of pain rushed out from his hand.

A few beads of sweat trailed down the side of Lorenzo’s face, where his hair stuck around his cheekbones. Already his canines were pressing indents into the thick strip of leather he was biting down on.

Tad paused for a half-second as he maneuvered his grip onto the middle finger. He was caught briefly between trying to avoid brushing against the other fingers. Press on, Thaddeus. He’s going to hurt no matter what. Minimize time, not pain. Make it quick.

“And again.” Tad twisted the finger back into place. This time there was an audible pop, and Tad winced as he realized some part of the bone scraping against itself had caused the finger to crack.

Don’t let him move. Tad reflexively shifted his grip to Lorenzo’s palm, reaching down with another hand to grasp him by the elbow to avoid him moving the broken forearm.

“NGHH-!!” Renzo twitched harshly in Tad’s grip, forming his good hand into a fist and slamming it down once, hard, onto the ground next to him. His chest heaved as he gasped for air, his face turned away from Tad, hidden by his damp hair.

How many was that?! Two? Three?! Gods damn it...two more, two more…

He braced himself, every muscle tensed for the next burst of pain. His hand felt like it had been dipped up to the elbow in molten steel; he felt almost sick with the agony of it.

Tad’s face was twisted in concentration as he moved his grip back up to Renzo’s pointer finger. With a deft motion, Tad grabbed the crooked digit from where it sat and pulled it up and back into place.

Tad’s face was beginning to sweat as well. Moisture from the rain outside mixed with the beads on Tad’s brow, and he blinked away the forming drops as he moved over to the thumb.

“One more Renzo, one more! We’re almost done, just bite and focus…” The last reminder was more for himself than for Renzo, as Tad cocked his head to the side looking at Renzo’s ruined thumb.

Oh gods, I can’t tell which way he twisted it.

Renzo shook hard, gripping the bedroll again; as Tad looked at Renzo's thumb, he could hear the harsh dry sobs now leaving the ifrit. He couldn't quite catch his breath, the pain seeming to push down into his lungs and compress them.

“Ngh...c’mon, c’mon…” he muttered, the words muffled by the leather strip and slurred by the pain that was flowing through Lorenzo.

Tad grabbed Renzo’s thumb, pressing into the digit with his fingers as he tried to determine how he needed to move it back into shape. Left? Right? How did he do this? It’s totally reversed. Renzo it hurting, MOVE idiot. Can’t tell can’t tell can’t tell-

There was a flash, and a loud boom of thunder echoed just outside of the cave.

Tad’s instinct to flinch turned into a sudden decision, and he twisted the thumb around.

SHIT.

For a moment, Tad held the thumb thinking he had just utterly ruined the digit. Then he felt the feeling of the bones sliding sickeningly into shape, and relief flooded him. He clasped Renzo’s hand briefly to flatten the fingers before moving back down to grip his palm and arm, “Done. Gods… I’m done.”

Renzo spat out the piece of leather, panting with exertion. He looked back over at Tad, his stomach turning unpleasantly as he caught sight of his hand in his periphery.

“Gods...damn it…” Renzo said softly, wanting to force a smile. He couldn't do it, though; he was too exhausted, “Tad...it's been a...really long fucking night...ugh…”

He shut his eyes then, reaching up to push his damp bangs out of his face for once; his good hand swept over his horns and then remained above his head, fingers coiled slightly through the mahogany locks.

“I know, Renzo. Gods, I know…” Tad suddenly let go of a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. He gently laid Renzo’s hand down on the ifrit’s bare chest.

He moved his hand up to feel between Renzo’s horns, relief and concern mixing across his face, “How’s your fever? That certainly can’t have helped.” Tad paused, hand on Renzo’s forehead.

It’s been a LONG night. Tad suddenly cracked a sad grin, laughing a little. “Gods, how absolutely fucking ridiculous has this night been?” Tad shook his head, starting to laugh a little more, “I mean, at some point it just becomes absurd, doesn’t it?”

Renzo opened his good eye to look at Tad, expression softening a bit at the expression on the paladin’s face. He smirked, more than a bit amused to hear such strong language in Tad's posh accent.

“Mm. Like one of those comedies where a million things go wrong for one person, all in a row,” he agreed. Renzo noted Tad's hand on his forehead but, oddly, didn't feel any particularly strong urge for it to move. Perhaps it was just that he was so tired.

His fever didn't seem to have gotten any worse, but it was still pretty bad. Renzo's normally warm skin was positively radiating heat, and Tad could feel sweat on his exposed brow.

“Truly, we are in the midst of some divine comedy.” Tad said.

#whump #caretaker #magical healing #painful healing #medicine #hurt/comfort #comfort #broken bones #dislocated bones #hand trauma #screaming #crying #fever #oc #oc whump #my oc #lorenzo

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whirlybirbs · 6 years ago

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THEY HAVE A HOTEL ROOM NOW AAAAAAAAAAAHH

IT WILL COME BACK ; A.M.

summary: arthur + miss turner share a bath. he hates himself. pairing: arthur morgan x reader, turner as a surname. a/n: here’s some dumb little warm up stuff, a part of my simpler said aloud series! anyways, i dunno what the fuck is happening with the formatting here and i am waaaaaay too tired to figure it out, oops.

He doesn’t deserve this.

Self deprecation bore into the homes within his heart long ago, mutilating the walls in a sinister sort of way -- with sharp teeth and hooked claws, the little beast settled deep inside his soul.

Arthur Morgan has felt hollow for so long, he forgot what it was like to have a fire stoked in that very same heart with care -- the warm slow-burn of something like love drives away the beast, but in the lonesome dark, it slithers back in with a vengeance.

Mary Linton had fed that beast with coaxing hands, let it in, let it sleep in his bed, and let it make a nest. She left him in the dust with a discarded ring and a broken heart and a haphazard distrust of the more permanent parts of romance; more than anything, Mary left him with this rotting feeling that eats him whole whenever he catches his reflection in a passing mirror.

But, when you smile, the clouds part.

Maybe -- just maybe -- he ain’t so bad.

If a woman like you, honest and kind and beautiful and smart, could spare him a shred of wayward affection... well, he isn’t too sure what to make of it.

“This is nice.”

You sound so far away, settled outside the tub on your knees. Arthur wishes, for the briefest of moments, that you were in the bath with him.

You lean over the lip of the basin, hand dipping into the hot water of his bath, fingers moving to brush along the curve of his bicep and scatter some suds there. Your hair is curling around your head like a halo from the steam of the tub, face glowing -- you’re a picture of radiance in the dim light of the hotel room. Swathed in your nightgown, you turn to look out the french doors overlooking Saint Denis.

The moon sits high and red in the sky.

Arthur couldn’t give a damn about the world outside this room.

You’re his moon, his stars, his air and his life, and as he sits there in that tub, stripped down to nothing, he realizes how he must have done something good in this life to deserve you. That little beast in his heart tells him this isn’t permanent, tells him this isn’t anything more than summer sweetness.

But, you look back at him with a palpable amount of affection that his mouth tastes like warm honey.

“It is.”

You lean then, resting your cheek on your wrist and watching him as you let your fingers skim the surface of the water.

Arthur sinks lower into the water at your anchored gaze.

That coaxes a shy smile out of you.

“What?”

He looks away. “Nothin’.”

“Y’ gettin’ shy now? I already saw y’ get in, Arthur.”

He laughs -- a little jump of his lungs that brings a smile to his face. It’s a quirk of his lips, tongue darting out to wet the amusement on his palate.

“Guess you’re right.”

You watch him for a moment longer, breath held in your lungs as you try to pin down the exact feeling that makes the air so thick. It’s written on his face, settled into the scars there, but you can’t read it.

He’s always had a good poker face.

Slowly, you move a hand across his jaw, sweeping your thumb across the stubble of his cheek.

“What’s wrong, Arthur?”

It’s said so softly, so sweetly. Like a prayer to higher power. His name has never sounded better, mumbled between passes of your thumb. Calloused hands can do nothing but reach for your smaller one, to anchor, to hold, to have.

He kisses your palm. He clears his throat.

“I don’t deserve y’.”

You frown.

“I am a sad, lonely, old man,” he continues, “M’ one ugly sonuva bitch that’s done some ugly things --”

“Arthur,” you coo, “That ain’t true --”

“It is,” he breathes, “I’ve killed people, I’ve robbed an’ I’ve killed an’ I’ve lied an’ cheated an’... I ain’t a good man. You deserve a good man.”

“You are a good man,” you rebuttal, moving to lift your head and eye him with a pained sense of finality, “You are and I don’t give a damn about you bein’ a wanted man -- you had to survive.”

“That don’t make it right. You oughta have a man who ain’t got a bounty. Who can make y’ a home and a life and --”

“Arthur.”

He heaves a sigh.

You touch his arm. “Arthur, I ain’t Mary.”

You’re not. You don’t want him to change. You don’t want him to be something he ain’t. You left the life of high society. You chose him and the gang. You’re loyal. You care about him. You’re not Mary Linton.

Arthur swallows.

“... I know, I’m... I’m sorry, I just --”

His words die in his throat when you stand, unceremoniously yanking your chemise over your head and swinging your legs over the edge of the tub. You climb in. The bath rocks and the water rises and you could care less, really.

He’s seen you naked before -- each time, though, it seems to be revered with the same sense of a religious experience. You can’t help but feel a bit worshiped; especially the way his words get stuck in his throat and he can’t help but stare.

You slip beneath the water and settled between his legs, leaning to press your back to his chest.

Arthur makes a sound -- tied between surprise and amusement. Then, his hands fall along your waist under the warm water. He looms over you in the tub, his broad frame taking up a wide amount of space. He shrinks himself, again, pulling his shoulders in as you stretch your legs and let them rest against his.

Instantly, he winds down.

Like a puzzle piece, the fit is magnetic. He’s tentative at first, careful not to overwhelm you, but his habit of exploring your shape creeps to the surface.

He kneads the flesh of your hip.

You’re thankful he can’t see the sting of tears in your eyes. You wish, you really do, that he’d let himself be loved. It hurts to see him spin in circles, racked with panic over being good enough when he’s really more than you could ever ask for.

“I ain’t goin’ anywhere, Arthur Morgan,” you say with such finality, “Not until I’m dead in th’ ground. Y’ gonna have t’ drag me outta this tub if y’ want me gone.”

He hums. It reverberates through your chest.

“I know that,” he finally says, ducking to dot a kiss to the curve of your shoulder, “I know.”

“You deserve to be happy, to be loved,” you mumble, “Will y’ trust me on that?”

A nod. You let your eyes slip shut.

“Good.”

Another kiss.

The water is warm. The world is quiet. Arthur’s hands are drawing lazy little patterns in your skin.

You wish you could stay like this forever.

#simpler said aloud #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan imagine #rdr2 imagine #arthur morgan fluff #rdr2 x reader #rdr2 headcanons #Anonymous #WHAT THE FUCK IS THE FORMATTING DOING

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solastia · 6 years ago

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Break My Stride | 4

Pairing: Yoongi x Jungkook

Word Count: 4,109

Summary: Yoongi is an Omega that has managed to escape the annual mating run without an Alpha for seven years in a row. He has no plans for that to change, but he’s unaware of his latest opponent: the newly presented Alpha Jeon Jungkook, his very determined childhood friend.

AN: The end is here! I figured I would knock this last chapter out since it was almost done. I hope you all enjoyed this self-indulgent fic. I have a couple of extra chapter ideas I might add some time in the future. Like, one where I tell the Namjinseok pairing from their POV, and a chapter with Beta Jungkook’s pov, maybe a Vmin origin chapter...and I dunno. I had a couple more. Just saying this might not be the last we see of them. Enjoy!

Waking up in Jungkook’s arms was something that he thought he could get used to easily. As soon as he opened his eyes he was face to face with the Alpha, the other’s appearance so innocent and peaceful in sleep. He took the chance to observe him at leisure, memorizing all the various moles and scars.

“Watching people sleep is really creepy, hyung.”

Yoongi sputters as Jungkook cracks open an eye, his lips turning up in a sleepy grin.

“Shut up. I was just trying to figure out how to wake you up since you sleep like you’re dead.”

Jungkook hums and scratches his belly. “Hmm, I’ve always wanted to wake up with your mouth on my co - “

Yoongi kicks him in the shin. “Yeah, I get it, shut up...maybe next time.”

Jungkook giggles and rolls over on top of Yoongi, uncaring of their equally horrible morning breath as he kisses him sweetly on the lips. He pauses for just a moment before doing the same to the mating bite that was slowly healing on Yoongi’s neck. The spot tingled at the touch, the overwhelming depth of Jungkook’s feelings bleeding through the connection. It was going to take a lot of work to get used to that.

“Mmm,” Yoongi hums deeply. “We should start heading back. I’m starving and they should have the good BBQ food trucks out today. They know we all worked up an appetite.”

“We did,” Jungkook smirks, then his expression changes instantly, his eyes going impossibly wide. He nibbles at Yoongi’s shoulder as he stares up at him. “You should buy me meat, hyung. Buy me lamb skewers.”

“I’ll give you some meat,” Yoongi grumbles playfully as he climbs off the bed, stretching his aching limbs.

“I mean, I’m down for anything,” Jungkook giggles.

Yoongi rolls his eyes. “Jesus, you’re horny in the morning, aren’t you?”

Jungkook comes around the bed and wraps his arms around Yoongi’s waist, nuzzling into the Omega’s neck.

“Just for you, hyung.”

“And sappy too,” Yoongi chuckles and turns his head to peck Jungkook on his cheek in consolation for tearing his arms off of him.

“Grab your clothes, baby. We gotta go before Jin orders all the steak for himself. Let’s not forget the twenty orders of crabs and lobsters debacle of 2015.”

The Alpha sighs, but it sounds so happy Yoongi looks at him curiously. He's looking all dreamy, with that dopey little smile again.

“What?”

Jungkook shrugs, “I like it when you call me baby.”

Yoongi chuckles and throws Jungkook’s pants onto his face. The Alpha grumbles but eventually starts tugging his clothes on and straightening himself up. His bedhead flopped around cutely, unable to be tamed.

Yoongi quickly got ready himself, tugging on his clothes and ruffling his hair a bit. He definitely needed a shower, but he settled for using the few toiletries he’d thought to bring - an extra layer of deodorant and a gargle of mouthwash, neither of which covered up the heady ‘just mated’ scent that emanated from his very pores. Not that he really minded. He rather enjoyed how their scents had blended together, creating something that smelled like a summer day with undercurrents of contented mates. Something he’d never thought he’d associate with himself. He was surprised at how much he was looking forward to showing off that he belonged to Jungkook.

“What are we gonna do with all your other stuff here, hyung?” Jungkook asks as he hands Yoongi a water bottle from the chest. He takes a moment to chug the whole thing and tosses it into the garbage bag in the corner.

“We’ll come back for it later tonight. There’s a trail not too far away that my car can reach and I’ll need the bedding to be able to get any sleep,” Yoongi grumbled, slightly annoyed at the very thought of being away from his nest for too long.

Newly bonded couples usually stayed near their nests for at least a week, and he was starting to realize why. He had to struggle through the slight panic he felt over being away from their “den”, temporary though it was supposed to be. His Omega was practically whining thinking of leaving the well-scented nest. The urge to just say fuck it and tackle Jungkook into the bedding was really strong.

Yoongi went to the tunnel and waited as Jungkook tugged on his track jacket before he walked over and gestured towards him.

“After you, hyung,” Jungkook waved towards the tunnel with a suspicious looking grin.

Yoongi narrowed his eyes but shrugged, climbing into the tunnel. He scuttled along, maybe making sure his ass waved in front of the Alpha’s face a little more than was necessary. He yelped when Jungkook answered his challenge by biting him right on the ass. The other answered his glare with an unapologetic smirk before they continued their journey.

Once they reached the end and crawled out, they helped each other clean off then started walking the same path they’d taken to get there. The weather was perfect - sunny with just a touch of breeze to make it bearable. The birds were chirping, squirrels running around on the branches. Add to that the moment when Jungkook slyly laced his fingers with Yoongi’s as they walked and it was a regular Disney moment.

Since they were just walking it took a bit longer to reach the stream, and by the time they were there, Yoongi was getting tired. He stopped for a moment to stretch and kick some of the kinks in his ankles away. Jungkook suddenly walked in front of him and presented his back.

“Hop on.”

“What? We still have a bit and I’m heavy,” Yoongi protested with a wave.

“You weigh next to nothing. Come on, baby. Sooner we get there, sooner you can buy me meat.”

Yoongi sputters at the unexpected endearment, while Jungkook grins.

“You like it too, huh? Noted.”

Just to shut him up, Yoongi climbs onto the offered back, lacing his arms around Jungkook’s neck and winding his legs around the Alpha’s surprisingly thin waist.

“Hold on, hyung.”

And with that, Jungkook charges ahead, running at nearly full speed as Yoongi tries to hold on without squealing. Suddenly, it’s not that surprising how Jungkook had caught up with him so fast if he could run like this even while he was carrying a whole other person.

Because of Jungkook’s ridiculous stamina, they made the last stretch in half the time it would have taken Yoongi alone. Just as they passed the final stretch of stream, the sounds of the Run event filtered through the trees. Many of the people had been here for hours already, waiting for the couples that had stayed in the woods overnight to rejoin their parties. This second day of the event was the biggest and was when everyone would take the chance to celebrate new joinings and make sure the new couples were fed well before they went on their way to their new homes.

As soon as the official tables came into view, Jungkook gently helped Yoongi back onto his own feet and grasped his hand to pull him eagerly towards them.

Jungkook walked straight towards the first woman he saw with a clipboard, blindsiding the stunned woman with one of his lethal smiles while he wrapped an arm around Yoongi’s waist to pull him close.

“Hi! We both need mating packets.”

Yoongi rolled his eyes because he could tell that Jungkook was practically bragging instead of just asking like a normal person.

The woman’s smile widened as she passed them the sign-out sheet and two big packets of paperwork.

“Congratulations! You make a lovely couple. Your packet includes an instruction sheet and we’ve tried to make filling them out as painless as possible. Just remember to send them in within two weeks to avoid the fine. I hope you two have a happy union,” the official enthused, cooing whenever Jungkook would nuzzle into Yoongi’s hair.

Jungkook signed out and passed Yoongi the board while he accepted the two bulging packets. Yoongi quickly scribbled his name, pausing for a moment to take it all in. This was it. He wouldn’t have to look at this dumb shit again. No more runs for him. He was free of it all and coming out with a good Alpha that was already his best friend. Not in a million years had he ever pictured this outcome, but he was so happy that Jungkook chose him.

They don’t even bother looking for the others yet as both of them were absolutely starving, so they went straight towards the food trucks. After letting Jungkook enthusiastically pull him between four different trucks, they came away with two BBQ platters with ten lamb skewers on the side, a couple orders of bao buns, a variety platter of tacos, and a couple of strawberry shortcakes for dessert. Yoongi wasn’t even sure if they were going to eat it all, but he figured what they didn’t touch the rest of the group would descend on like vultures.

They were searching for an open picnic bench to settle down on when Yoongi heard a deep voice screaming Jungkook’s name. Taehyung waved to them wildly as he stood on top of a table, obviously having been trying to keep an eye out for them.

Yoongi breathed deeply, suddenly nervous. He was proud, yes, but he was still nervous about what his friends would think. There could be any number of issues that they could take with their mating, like that he was too old for Jungkook, too mean, too messed up - just too much.

Instead, Taehyung’s happy grin turned into a smirk the closer they got. He jumped off the table and his gaze flickered between Yoongi and Jungkook’s necks, inhaling deeply before he suddenly started laughing. Jimin sauntered up holding a couple of drinks, and he handed one to Taehyung as he looked at him curiously.

“Look,” Taehyung said breathily between bouts of laughter, “They finally figured it out.”

Jimin turned his glance to the two standing awkwardly with their hands full of food, his eyes widening as he took in the bite marks. He inhaled deeply before chuckling.

“Congrats! It’s about time.”

Yoongi looked at the two, suddenly very confused.

“What the hell does that mean?” he muttered as he set his food down on the table. Jungkook silently slid in next to him and squeezed his thigh in comfort.

“It means,” Jimin rolled his eyes, “That we been knew. Jungkookie has always been obvious as hell about you, hyung. And we always knew he was your favorite. Oh god, Tae. Do you remember the time Jungkook spent an entire weekend making Yoongi hyung a valentine when he was like, ten? He even made him homemade chocolates shaped like music notes.”

Taehyung giggled, nodding his head. “Oh yeah. And remember when Yoongi thought Jungkookie was dating that Mina girl? He was like an angry bear and kept snapping at everyone. Then suddenly, he was hungry and nothing but the pancakes at the diner would do. Nevermind that was where Jungkook was hanging out with Mina to study for their science project.”

“Okay, I get it. Alright,” Yoongi murmured, distracting himself with a bite of food.

“Baby,” Jungkook suddenly whispered against his ear, “Were you jealous?”

Yoongi could feel his face flush as he cleared his throat and whispered back.

“I wanted to rip her hair out and I didn’t know why.”

Jungkooks smug grin was totally worth letting that little embarrassing fact drop.

“Anyway, everyone else on their way?” Yoongi asked after taking a sip of his drink.

Jimin and Taehyung sneak a glance at each other before wiggling their eyebrows in tandem.

“Now there’s a story. Basically, one moment we were finishing our dinner as we watched you two start your run, then Hobi and Namjoon were quietly arguing with Jin. The next thing I know, Hobi starts growling at Jin and goes, “Run,” in like the scariest voice I’ve ever heard him use. Jin just stood there looking stunned for a minute and starts to walk away like he was leaving. Then Namjoon stands up and points towards the forest and goes, “Wrong way, hyung. Run that way,” Jimin explains dramatically, letting Taehyung take over the rest.

“Yeah, and then Jinnie looks shocked as hell but then he books it. Namjoonie and Hobie hyung kissed for like a whole minute, which was both sweet and gross, and then Hobie I swear to God said, “Let's go get our mate, baby,” then ran after Jinnie. So I’m guessing they fucked in the woods all night because we still haven’t seen them come back.”

“Huh,” Yoongi huffs. “Speaking of about time.”

All four of them make various sounds of agreement then focused on their food for the most part, Jimin occasionally regaling them with tales of couples he’d seen coming out of the woods. Jungkook was absolutely shameless with his affection, not caring if Taehyung or Jimin made fun of him for his constant nuzzling or various groping on Yoongi’s person. Yoongi himself was surprised that he was allowing it, as he’d never really been into PDA, but instead his stupid Omega was preening and basking with pride in the Alpha’s affections. It probably didn’t hurt when he saw how many envious glances were thrown his mate’s way.

An hour later and they were all beginning to consider texting the other three to make sure they were at least alive. Yoongi was getting anxious because he really wanted to leave and nest with Jungkook, his Omega slowly growing nervous with all the various scents coming close to his new mate.

Just as he was about to suggest leaving and apologizing to the rest later, the three finally came through the trees, all of them holding hands with Seokjin in the middle. They were covered in dirt and leaves but looked happy and content. All three of them sporting mating bites on both sides of their necks.

The four at the table erupted into whistles and catcalls as they came closer. Namjoon’s proudly puffed his chest, his pride nearly rivaling Jungkook’s attitude of the day. Hoseok’s smile was beaming and Seokjin somehow managed to look unruffled, though his slight blush gave him away.

“Congratulations,” Yoongi smirked as he raised his cup towards the new mates.

Jin quirked an eyebrow at him, “Indeed. I could say the same for you. Been doing things with my baby brother, have you?”

Yoongi sputtered and eyed Seokjin nervously before the other finally broke, laughing loudly.

“Relax. I’ve known about his crush for years. And then when he presented he wouldn’t stop screaming your name - which, thanks for that. That’s burned into my memory for all fucking time.”

“So you’re not mad?”

“Of course not. I couldn’t have picked better for either of you. I love you both and you’ll be happy together. Of course, if you hurt him, you know how much crime television I watch. I could kill you and dispose of the body and weep so well at your funeral not a soul would suspect me.”

“Noted,” Yoongi cringed as Jungkook giggled and kissed the side of his head.

“Hyung, wanna go home?” Jungkook whispered.

Yoongi nodded and Jungkook stood up, grabbing his hand to help him up. They left the rest of the food there for the others to pick on and waved to the table,

“Alright, we’re out of here. Don’t bother us for the rest of the weekend,” Jungkook smirked at the group. They rolled their eyes and yelled their goodbyes.

“Make sure you remember to eat well!” Hobi screamed, “And don’t forget to make sure Yoongi drinks water! He always forgets, and he smells like he’s going into heat. OH, get him Slurpees! He loves those when he’s in heat!”

“Will do, hyung! Bye guys!”

Yoongi rushes off before they finish screaming instructions, now thoroughly embarrassed - even if he was a little touched by their concern.

Jungkook escorts him to his own car and even opens the door for him. Yoongi knows it’s only a matter of time before he goes back to his spoiled brat ways, so for now he’s enjoying this side of Jungkook.

The drive is quiet but comfortable, the two of them only unlacing their clasped hands if necessary. When they pull up to the three-story Italiante house that Yoongi has coveted since he was young, his heart feels like it’s going to burst out of his chest.

“Are you happy, hyung?” Jungkook asks as he helps Yoongi out of the car and pulls him towards the entrance.

Yoongi’s voice catches when he tries to answer, so he simply nods and squeezes Jungkook’s hand, knowing the other will understand and perhaps feel him over the bond without saying anything.

Yoongi’s only been able to see the inside of this house in person a couple times, mostly having to rely on memory and internet pictures to make his dream plans. The inside is still the same, with the original wood floors, intricate windows, and the massive fireplace in the front parlor. It appeared as though all that Jungkook had really done was clean the place up and add a couple of chairs and a small table for them to use during the bonding period.

“I figured since I was able to buy the whole thing with cash and now it’s all ours, we could use the savings you’ve been putting together towards actually decorating it how you wanted and fixing up whatever needed it.”

“That's...God, that’s perfect, Kook. You’re perfect. Thank you,” Yoongi said breathlessly, trying to contain his tears as he took in the magnificence of the house. The home of his dreams, with the perfect Alpha. He didn’t know if he deserved all this, but he wasn’t willing to give it up even if he wasn’t.

“I already claimed the bedroom towards the back of the upstairs hall for us. It’s the biggest and I put a mattress and stuff in there for us to use until we go shopping,” Jungkook nods towards the stairs before suddenly clearing his throat nervously.

“And...uh...we might wanna pick a room for a nursery.”

“Oh yeah?” Yoongi huffed a laughed, “Already making big plans, baby Alpha?”

“Um,” Jungkook ruffled his hair nervously, “So part of being a prime is enhanced scenting and hearing, even more than the usual Alpha. So...uh...we can smell stuff like pregnancy right away. And hear heartbeats. And enhanced fertility...” Jungkook’s voice trailed off until it was nearly a whisper.

Yoongi turned to stare at the nervous Alpha, lifting an eyebrow as he pieced together what Jungkook was trying to say.

“You motherfucker. You knocked me up, didn’t you?”

“Um...yes? I mean, it’s too early to hear a heartbeat I think, but I can smell you. You smell really super sweet and like...maybe milky?”

Yoongi strode towards him and startled him by reaching up and pulling him in for a hard kiss. When he pulled away, Jungkook gaped at him in awe.

“You’re not mad?”

“No, baby. I’m not mad. I’m...maybe overwhelmed a bit. Just yesterday I was resigned to being alone, and now I have an amazing mate and a pup on the way. I’m so grateful that you picked me.”

Jungkook rushed forward and embraced him, nuzzling his nose into Yoongi’s hair.

“I love you, hyung.”

“I love you too, baby.”

With that, Jungkook swooped in and grabbed Yoongi, picking him up bridal style as he ran up the stairs to their new nest, where they spent the rest of the day breaking it in until they had to leave to clean out Yoongi’s cave under the cover of darkness.

Yoongi fanned himself as he sat in an uncomfortable lawn chair, the blazing sun making him absolutely miserable. It would have been tough for him on a usual day, but now at five months pregnant, he was basically in hell. Still, there was no way he’d miss Jungkook’s academy graduation.

The six of them were crammed into the middle of the front row as they waited for Jungkook’s name to called. Hobi was excitedly waiting for his chance to embarrass the poor Alpha with the brightly colored banner he made just for the occasion. The other two youngest were rapidly arguing back and forth trying to decide on some sort of chant they were going to scream.

Yoongi gently smiled as Jungkook’s eyes found him in the crowd, the other’s bunny smile wide and beaming when he caught sight of his mate. They were still as crazy about each other as ever, having spent the last five months building their home together and finding it easy to turn their close friendship into a solid foundation for their new life as mates. His Alpha absolutely doted on him and Yoongi did everything he could to make sure Jungkook knew he felt the same.

Finally, Jungkook’s name was called and he walked up to shake the Captain’s hand and accept the paper stating he’d graduated from the Police Academy after six grueling months of training.

The group clapped along with the rest of the room, but Hobi and the two brats of course stood up and started dancing and waving the banner around as Jungkook’s face flush a lovely color of dark pink. He tried to gesture for Hobi to sit down, even knowing it was a futile attempt.

It wasn’t until they determined they had thoroughly embarrassed the young Alpha enough that they finally settled down and allowed the announcer to call the next person. Yoongi chuckled to himself know he was going to have to listen to Jungkook bitch about their friends later.

After the ceremony, there was a small reception and the group found themselves in the back of the room settling into a round table that was similar to their usual spot. Yoongi observed his friends contently as he held hands with Jungkook under the table, the other one rubbing his stomach absentmindedly.

“You know, something just occurred to me,” Namjoon suddenly blurted. “It’s not that surprising we all ended up together. We never wanted to make friends with other people either, so of course we would want to be mates with each other too.”

“Speak for yourself, hyung,” Taehyung chuckled. “I have tons of friends that aren’t you guys. So does Jiminie.”

Namjoon rolls his eyes. “I just mean like, maybe there was a reason we always stuck together. Maybe we were all meant to be.”

“If you’re trying to tell me you love me, Joonie, I appreciate it but I have a lovely Alpha already,” Yoongi smirks.

“I just mean, like, soulmates. You know? Maybe we were supposed to meet to help each other find our mates. Or maybe we are all soulmates in various forms.”

“I’m too exhausted to think about this right now, my love. We all love each other, we’re going to grow up and live in the same nursing home. Etc, etc. Just eat,” Jin says as he shoves a piece of chicken in Namjoon’s mouth.

Yoongi was grateful for Jin’s interference because he was too tired for one of Namjoon’s epiphanies, but he did get what he’d been trying to say. He’s always felt like this group was where he was supposed to be, these other six souls that there intertwined with his own. And one that shone brighter than the rest as it became one with his; as Jungkook’s love and devotion made every day worth living.

He stroked his stomach gently, smiling to himself. Jungkook squeezed his hand and spoke words of love with his eyes as he smiled down at the Omega.

Yes, this is where he was meant to be.

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doctor-who-hears-a-horton · 5 years ago

Text

Above Ground (Ten x Rose)

Rating: Teen

Summary: On Gallifrey, the humans who were born there are subjected to live below the surface in an underground society, separated from the Gallifreyans. School teacher Rose Tyler aims to change things, even if it costs her her own life.Prince Theta of Gallifrey has always thought there was more to the humans than meets the eye… And Rose Tyler proves him right.

Chapter 4/?

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

Read it on AO3 here!

They sat across from each other at a place that served what appeared to be a meat stew, and while it could be considered plain, Rose discovered that it was more rich in flavor then anything else she’d ever eaten below ground, and she was sure it showed.

“So, I’d like to show you to the palace now.”

Rose choked. “I think that might be a bad idea.”

“Well, you want to experience everything, I can see it in you,” Theta leaned on the table, and Rose leaned back. “And that’s the last thing to show you.”

“Really? The last thing to show you on the whole planet?” Rose crossed her arms over her chest. “Dunno about that one, your highness.” Theta scrunched up his nose at her, defeated. “Fine. I may have an ulterior motive in showing you the palace.”

Rose narrowed her eyes at him. It occurred to her that the prince’s kindness would have eventually run out, but she didn’t expect it to happen that fast. “What exactly do you mean like that?”

“Well, I’m going to show you where I live, how I live. And then…”

Her eyes grew wide as she realized what he was going to ask her to do. “Oh. No. No, you can’t come to the underground.” “Why not?” he almost whined.

“Because you’ll leave me down there!” She cried, “Because I know that you’ll just make me take you on a tour and then you’ll dump me off, right back where I started. And then I’ll have come all this way for nothing.” She slumped over a little bit. “I can’t go back to those kids offering anything but freedom.”

Theta blinked. “That wasn’t my plan at all!”

“Then what was the plan?” Rose crossed her arms over her chest. “How could I benefit from taking you to the underground?”

Theta started gesturing with his hands, as though he was painting a picture with his gestures. “No! I’ll- I’ll give you my key to the underground, that way I’ll have no way to have administrative access, and you’ll have all my power with it. So, I can’t leave without you.”

Rose bit her lip. There was a chance that he was bluffing, that he didn’t have a sort of master key. There was a chance, yes. But there was something deep in his eyes that made her want to believe him. He’d never asked to be the prince, in fact, all signs pointed to him not wanting to be the prince at all.

“So you show me how you live, and I show you how I live, and then what?”

“We come to a compromise, and we take it to Rassilon. Find a way to benefit the humans and the Gallifreyans. Honestly, anything could benefit the humans at this point, but I’m not sure the Gallifreyans deserve anymore laughs.”

Rose snorted.

“Ah-ha! Did I just get you to laugh?” “No.”

“Yes I did, you laughed.”

“I did not.”

He grinned at her, leaning farther forward. “You know, you have a nice smile.”

She felt heat color her cheeks and she looked down. “Thanks.”

A hush fell over them for a moment, and Theta leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. “So? What do you think?”

“I- I think it might work,” she said, picking at her stew. “If you promise-”

“Rose. I’ll need you to trust me.”

She wasn’t sure she wanted to do that. But something about him made her want to trust him, however warily. She finally nodded slowly. “Fine. But if you do anything that I think is suspicious, we rework the deal. You stand to gain something from this that I don’t.”

“What’s that?”

“Slaves.”

Theta’s face went completely white. “No. Nothing like that will be tolerated as long as I can help it. If you don’t believe anything else I say, believe that.”

True. She could tell, right off the bat, that he was serious. She looked down into her bowl, not wanting to say anything else to make him upset. “Fine. Then, yeah. I’ll do it. I’ll take you underground.”

“Brilliant!” he cheered up immediately. “Now, come on, then, off to the palace with us!”

They ended up taking a carriage, which, since Rose had never been in before, effectively blew her mind. She stared out at the world passing them, almost pressing her nose to the glass of the window. Of course, the only way to get anywhere was to walk, and it wasn’t like there was that much space anyways.

“What do you think of Gallifrey, then?” Theta said suddenly, and Rose realized that he’d probably been watching her. She cleared her throat and sat back in her seat.

“It’s beautiful,” she said. “I just don’t… I’ve never seen somewhere that’s so open, it’s a lot.”

“Yeah, I can imagine,” Theta said, watching her carefully. “I don’t know what I’d do if my life got turned upside down like this.”

“Well, you said you didn’t want to be the prince, but you are,” Rose pointed out.

Theta made a noise in the back of his throat and lifted his shoulder. “I mean… Yes. But I didn’t have to change too much about how I lived my life. And coming up from the underground is completely different. You’d never seen the sky.”

Rose crossed her arms. “I know. I just… I’d always seen pictures, but it’s different to see it in person. I’d never hoped to, but…” She leaned across the carriage, forcing him to look at her. “I don’t want to go back there. I don’t want any more kids to grow up there. We’re separated and isolated for no reason just because we’re human, because we’re a different species from you, and there’s enough of that.”

Theta stared at her, his eyes earnest. “I know,” he said softly, “I’d like to change that. I want to fix it.” “I’m lucky you’re the one that found me, then,” she admitted. “You definitely have the most influence here.”

“You’re lucky you didn’t run into Rassilon. He’s got quite the temper on his own, but I’m fairly confident that I can get to him.” Rose cocked her head. “You do?”

“Yes.”

She leaned back into her seat, feeling like she was too close to him all of a sudden. ”Good. I’m glad.”

“You said you were a teacher. How long?”

Rose blinked. She hadn’t been expecting him to try to carry on the conversation. She laced her fingers together in her lap. “Since I turned seventeen.”

“That’s rather young for a human,” he said curiously. “Why so young?”

“I had to. I was almost done with school and I didn’t want to do anything else. Plus, if you work more you can get extra perks and authorizations.”

He seemed surprised. “So not… Not all civilians are on the same level?”

“No. It kinda depends on your ambition, but a lot of people don’t have that, because there’s no hope,” Rose looked up at the roof of the carriage. “What’s the point of working hard if you’ll never get to anything better?” “You don’t seem to share that sentiment.”

Her eyes slid over to him. “Cause I’m foolish enough to believe that hope is something you can hang your hat on.”

***************

They finally made it to the palace, which was bookended with huge with circular turrets and sphere domes atop them. Architecturally, it was beautiful, but Rose had never seen a building so huge, and it was daunting.

“I’d rather not bring you to Rassilon right away,” Theta chatted away, bursting through her thoughts. “So, instead, I’d like to take you to the gardens. You seemed to like the outdoors quite a bit.”

“Well, yeah.”

He laughed. “Sorry.”

The gardens were beautiful. They were nothing like the ‘outdoor’ sections of the underground. The wind that touched her skin was cool, and the flowers looked brighter under real sunlight. They were taller too, and she felt like they could either support her or swallow her whole, and she wasn’t sure which she would prefer. She could feel Theta watching her, and couldn’t help but feel like he was too interested in her reactions to things. She frowned at him, but he just grinned back at her.

“It’s beautiful,” she finally said, “Thank you for showing me.”

“Of course,” He jammed his hands into pockets she hadn’t known he’d had before. “This is my favorite part of the palace, you know. I think it’s the most peaceful.”

As they walked along, they came across a large white marble bench, and Rose sat down on it, feeling a bit overwhelmed. The fact that she’d made it, that she’d actually gotten to the surface, like she had always planned to do, almost made her head feel like it was too heavy for her body. She tipped her head back and stared up at the sky, watching the clouds pass overhead.

“I feel like there’s so much I missed out on,” She whispered. Theta sat next to her, watching her face, clearly waiting for her to speak, but said nothing. She wasn’t sure why she actually trusted him, but he’d gotten her somehow, so she sighed and continued.

“In textbooks of Gallifrey, there are pictures of kids running around in the grass, and the toys they played with, and all this… Stuff I never felt, never got to experience. There’s so much of it.” She looked down at her hands. “I don’t have calluses from playing outside. I don’t have my paintings up on my mum’s walls.”

Theta laid his hand, turned up, next to hers on his knee. “Neither do I,” he whispered.

It occurred to her, then, that perhaps they weren’t so different after all. She glanced at him, dark eyes searching hers and waiting for something. She was waiting too.

What was she waiting for?

She didn’t mean to, but she settled her palm over his, and their fingers laced together as easy as breathing. “You’re lonely,” she whispered finally.

“Being crown prince… No one wants to risk a friendship,” he laughed, but it was hollow. “So are you.”

“I’m not lonely.”

“You are. I see it.” With the hand not holding hers, he touched under her eye with his pointer finger. “I see it right here. How often do you sleep, Rose?”

“I sleep when I need to.”

“Mm. Humans need 8 hours. I’d wager you don’t get that.”

She sighed heavily, looking down at their hands, together. She’d never held hands with anyone before. “There’s no reason to sleep when you live a life that’s meaningless anyway.” “You teach the future.”

“There is no future.” She released his hand and got to her feet, crossing her arms. “For those kids, for me, for anyone. There’s no future. And it’s horrible, your highness, to wake up every day and know that there’s nothing beyond your front door that means anything, that when you turn to dust no one will remember you. It’s horrible.” “I can’t imagine how you must feel,” He said slowly, like he was talking to a spooked horse. “I want… I do want to help. I hope you’ll believe I’m honest.”

“I do,” She said, perhaps too fast. She glanced over her shoulder at him. Eyes like that didn’t lie. “I don’t know why I do. But I do.”

He grinned at her. “Brilliant. Why don’t I show you to your room so you can get some rest?”

Upstairs, Theta showed her the biggest bedroom she’d ever seen. “This is where you’ll stay while you’re here,” he told her, gesturing. “There’s extra nightclothes and things here, stocked up. You should be fine.” “If there’s clothes here, why did you take me to Donna’s shop?” She asked.

“Well, you needed something right then, you looked suspicious. Plus, I thought you might like Donna.” He was right about that, at least. She walked over the dark red wood chest of drawers, running her fingers over it. She suddenly felt exhausted, a hand pressed to her head. Theta was at her side in a moment, hand on her elbow.

“Are you alright?” He asked earnestly.

“Yeah, m’fine, I just feel a little tired.”

“Well, big day,” he said softly. “Maybe you should rest for awhile, I can come get you when it’s time for dinner.”

Rose nodded. “Okay.”

“Alright! Have a nice nap.” He sprang away from her and left the room. Rose laughed a little, and just because she was still uncertain of her surroundings, locked the bedroom door. She found a light nightgown in the dresser and opted to change, not wanting to wrinkle the nice clothes. Those she laid out on the chair by the bed to put on again later.

Everything here was the nicest she’d ever seen, and when she crawled into bed, sighing softly at the way the mattress seemed to hug her, she succumbed to sleep almost immediately.

#ten x rose #tenrose #tenth doctor #rose tyler #raylu writes fic #ray lu writes fic #raylu ten x rose #doctor who

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littlecountrymouse · 6 years ago

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Space Cowboy podcast episode 19: An interview with Michael Vlamis transcript.

So guys, I got a heap of messages from people saying they’d like this thing transcribed, because not everyone can listen to podcasts. I do this for a living, but also do it occasionally for my dad with Alan Alda’s podcasts because he’s mostly deaf and can’t understand them. So I’ve typed this sucker out for you all on my phone today. It’s not perfect, and I had to go back and edit it for clarity because holy shit, Vlamis says like A LOT. But it’s beautiful, and hopeful, and the biggest take out from it that I cranked the volume on and checked with my work software is that Malex LOVE each other right now, in the present. Screw this ‘loved’ shite, it’s current day, baby. They just gotta learn to talk and be honest and vulnerable with one another for it to work.

Liz: Welcome to Space Cowboys, a Roswell New Mexico podcast here on purefandom.com. I am Liz Prugh, joined by my co-host Meg Bonney.

Meg: Hello, hello.

L: And while each week we normally give you amazing one-of-a-kind theories on the fabulous TV series Roswell New Mexico, the show was on hiatus this week, which was a big bummer because we forgot. But we didn’t forget about you listeners, we’re bringing you a special episode. Meg, give us the details.

M: On this week of Space Cowboys we’ll be talking about hair care and hair products, and - just kidding. So we don’t have a recap, obviously, because there wasn’t a new episode. But we chatted with our favorite midwestern curly haired cowboy, Michael Vlamis!

L: Woowoo!

M: He talks about why he loves his fans so much, and it will melt your heart, and how he maintains those gorgeous curls, and Malex, of course Malex.

L: All things Malex. So make sure you guys keep tuning in, and check out all of our other amazing podcasts on purefandom.com and we’ll catch you next week for a new episode. Enjoy this lovely conversation with the even more lovely Michael Vlamis.

*Space Cowboys intro theme piece.*

L: Hey listeners, welcome back to Space Cowboys. We have a very special episode for you, we have Michael Vlamis, who plays Michael Guerin on Roswell New Mexico, what’s up Michael?

MV: Woo! How you guys doing?

L: Awesome.

MV: I am happy to be talking to you guys, this is fun.

L: It’s a good vibe for all you listeners, we all have really really curly hair, and we’re all from the midwest, so it’s a great space right now.

MV: The curls are very hard to manage, I’m gonna, I’ll be real with you. It took me like twenty-six years of my life to figure out what to do with my hair.

M: We were just talking about how it’s so hard to manage our hair, and it took us so long, and we’re the only ones who know how to deal with it.

MV: Yeah, nobody else knows. Nobody knows the trauma. When I was a kid I wanted straight hair, I wanted one of those bowl cuts, and my mom was like, honey you’re never gonna have that, your hair is not straight, and it was sad but I’ve come to terms with it finally.

L: Yeah, and you rock it now, I love it.

MV: Yeah, thank you. It gets wild in some of those episodes, I see it blowing in the wind and I’m like ‘oh, man, that’s it? There you go.’

M: Giggles

L: It has a life of its own, Meg and I were just saying we’re still living that Herbal Essences life, like we’ve tried the expensive stuff and I dunno, you just, you gotta stick with what works.

M: Mmhm.

MV: Honestly, this might gross some people out, but I hardly ever wash my hair. I hardly ever wash it, the woman who cuts my hair, she says you don’t wash it, your hair gets oily when you’re not a - we’re like turning into a hair campaign now, I love it - when you uh, you wash it too much and it just creates more oil, so if you’re not washing it, then uh … you know. I still use conditioner though. I smell okay, I will say that. I smell okay.

M: Well, there you go, that’s all you need.

MV: Yeah, yeah, yeah. Thank you for having my back.

L: We got you. Well, that’s a perfect segue into this next question into your love story on the show. Let’s talk about - Tyler Blackburn’s here - no, I’m just kidding.

MV and M both laugh

MV: Oh, that’s great.

L: So when we recently Carina, of course the amazing showrunner of Roswell New Mexico at your ATX screening in Austin Texas, and she said it was very important to have the Michael and Alex story start in the darkness and come into the light versus the other way around, which is the way we see a lot of LGBTQ relationships on TV. What darkness do you think that both Michael and Alex need to overcome in order for them to be like ‘okay cool, we both deserve to be happy and love each other?’

MV: Oh my gosh, that is such a deep, tough question to answer cause there’s so many things, and when it comes to Michael and Alex a lot of like who Michael Guerin is is a lot of the feelings that I have, and I draw straight from what I’ve had to overcome, and like similar to Michael Guerin, you know, he’s been an outsider his whole life, right? And so has Alex, they both have these secrets, and I think the biggest thing that you have to overcome is accepting who you are, that your secrets don’t always need to be kept so close to the chest and I think it’s the vulnerability, it’s accepting that it’s okay to be vulnerable and you’ll still be liked, you’ll still be accepted. And if people don’t accept you for your vulnerability then you don’t want them in your life, and I think that’s like, that’s the biggest thing, is that you can be honest with yourself and with others. And, I mean obviously the two of us, I mean, we didn’t even tell each other that - we had been separated ten years and we never even told each other that we loved each other when we did, you know? And I think that’s a mistake a lot of people make and I make in my own life, which is like, the things that are hard to say, not saying them, and I think that’s the biggest thing you have to overcome, that it’s okay to be vulnerable.

L: Aww, I love that. Also I’d like to just say that I love both of you, just so that doesn’t become an issue and I didn’t tell you.

MV: Laughs. Okay, thank you.

L: So speaking of Michael and Alex, one of our favorite scenes was that flashback with you playing the guitar in the shed. So I just wanted to know, are we gonna get to maybe see more musical moments, or maybe is that something that you’re gonna try to save for next season, if we knock on wood get next season?

MV: Oh man, you know, I can’t give anything away. I can’t give too much away with that, because - just know that you know, my hand is messed up in the show and that’s why I stopped playing guitar, and a big part of me kinda disappeared that day in the toolshed, like an identity, you know, something that - in that scene that talks about how my entropy changes when I play music and I kind of escape my life and all the chaos going on in my head. So definitely know that it’s something that Michael Guerin is very passionate about, and he would love to get back to, but he’s gotta do something about that hand if that’s ever gonna happen, you know?

L: Mmhmm. So, we’re both super sci fi nerds and you probably, you probably can’t answer this next question, but we recently learned that Guerin is building a spaceship, and it would be so rad -

MV: Yeah!

L: If you guys went to space. Do you see that happening in the show, do you want it to happen in the show?

MV: Um, you know what, I would love to see, to see something like that happen, but I think what’s more interesting than going to space is the choice of going to space, you know? It’s not necessarily being there, but it’s the choice that I’m actually going to leave all these people I love. Because I don’t know, even if I do go to space am I even going to be able to bring everybody, do I wanna bring everybody. It’s kind of like - Michael Guerin, his whole life has been building this spaceship to go back to his family, but like at the same time he’s also running from something. But he’s also running towards something that he believes wholeheartedly in which is like family and his origins and things like that. But I would love to see a moment come where he has to really decide you know, am I going or am I staying, and I think that could be a really powerful scene.

M: I’m team space, I say send everyone to space, let’s just start over on a new planet. I would love to see that.

MV and L laugh.

MV: Yeah, we would probably end up polluting it though, but yeah, you know, it would be nice to get a little fresh start every now and then.

L: Yeah, totally agree. So with so many reboots and reimaginings on TV right now, a lot of fans tend to compare them to the original, or even just there’s kind of backlash surrounding it. What has the fan experience been for you so far in this process?

MV: Oh my God, honestly overwhelming. I honestly didn’t really know what to expect, this is my first TV show, I’ve never had like, I’ve never really had fans before or people that blindly support me because of a character that I portray. I’ve had some success in the past where that’s happened a little bit, but not like this. And all I can say is that I feel so lucky that I get to through acting, what I love doing most in my life, I get to give people an escape and challenge their thoughts and get them to open up, and a lot of these fandoms that are following me, especially like, on instagram is kind of where I spend the most of my time with social media, I think it’s the app that I enjoy the most, it’s so visual you know? And I love making my instagram into, you know, I like that it almost looks like a magazine spread or something of just like, my humor and what not and I enjoy that, I really reveal a lot about myself on Instagram. And I think people appreciate that, so I get like, there’s LGBTQ Vlamis accounts, there’s malex accounts, there’s Michael Vlamis Italia, um, it’s people in Italy, and it’s so wild. And the messages that they send me about how my character and my love story with Alex has opened them up with their life and helped them get out of a dark place is honestly why you do the job. Because sometimes acting can feel like such a selfish career at times, and I think a lot of actors are very selfish you know, like you’re the center of attention, you’re doing this you’re doing that. But when you can actually help the world and it’s bigger than you is when it’s most important. And luckily I’m in a position where that’s happening right now, and I’m not gonna lie, it’s very rewarding.

L: That’s awesome, and I’ve seen a lot of those accounts too, and when we’re just tweeting about the show in general and like, their tag is your name and that’s gotta be pretty wild to see.

MV: Oh it’s so wild, it’s so funny for all my friends too, because now all of a sudden any time they post a story or something, like the fan accounts are reaching out to them, and they’re like, ‘oh, oh, what’s Michael doing right now,’ or they’re reposting pictures of my roommates just because they’re in my life, so now they’re all kind of experiencing a little bit too, which is, it’s been a lot of fun and we’re having a lot of laughs with it and we’re all really grateful about it.

L: That’s awesome. I love that. Okay, so, I don't know if you can answer this but I’m gonna ask it anyway because, I don’t know if you listen to the podcast and you can lie and say you listen to every one religiously, but we talk about a lot of theories, and one of the biggest theories we’ve been talking about recently is the fourth alien. And we think we know who it is, but we wanted to know what was your reaction when you learned about the identity of the fourth alien, and have you really seen anyone guess it correctly?

MV: Oh man. I have seen one person online guess it correctly, I will say that. And it was one of those things where I almost didn’t even want to like interact with the post, because I didn’t want to give anything away whatsoever. But this one specific person did guess it and I don’t think that’s giving it away too much because so many theories are out there that I don’t think anyone’s gonna find this one person that guessed it right, but somebody did. And when I was shooting the show, the fun thing about the show is that I never knew what was gonna happen every episode right? Like they would sit us down and talk to us about major story points and what’s gonna be going on with your character and kind of the necessities of what you need to know in order to give an honest performance. But I didn’t know what was going to happen actually, how we were gonna get to where they said we were going. So every episode when I read it it was a surprise, I was blown away, it was like ‘oh my god, this is happening in this episode? This is crazy, this fun, it’s exciting.’ And when I found out who was gonna be the villain I was a little taken aback because even I didn’t see it, and I think that’s what’s fun about the show, is that of all the theories, everything, I’ve seen one person guess it and that’s how we wanted to do it, right, we didn’t want to give anything away. I think Carina did an amazing job of like, revealing who the fourth alien is and you know, what they stand for and why they’re coming from the place they’re coming from, so I was almost like a viewer on the show, I was just learning kind of as the episodes go what was going down. But once I knew who it was a lot made sense and at the same time I was just taken aback that okay, this was the person who is doing all this, and it was a lot of fun for me to discover as well.

L: Ooh, that’s so fun, we can’t wait.

Mv: Yeah.

L: So music is also a big part of the show and we know what nineties songs that Liz Ortecho plays on the jukebox you know, she’s got her Counting Crows and her Third Eye Blind. What song or songs, or we’ll even make it easier for you, what bands do you think Guerin would pick or that he has on his iPod?

MV: I can tell you what song I am most proud of having in a scene that I’ve done thus far and that was in the flashback episode, that was episode six when you see our first kiss. I remember reading the script and originally in the script, when, because Jeanine and Nathan have a very touching moment in that scene too, right around that scene where I kiss Tyler for the first time, and the song that’s playing in the script is ‘First Day of my Life’ by Bright Eyes, and I’m like a huge Bright Eyes fan, and when I saw the episode cut together they played that kiss over our song as well and honestly that was like one of the coolest moments for me, to see a band that I grew up on, a band that I have just screamed at the top of my lungs in my car or just listening to to find an escape, going through a breakup or something like that, to have that song that means so much to me play over my kiss with someone that I love in the show was a really, really special moment. And I could sit here and say that Michael Guerin is the type of guy who’s just listening to like, old school country or some John Denver or some rock n roll or something like that, but I think at the end of the day Michael Guerin is a big softie. And I think that a song like Bright Eyes not only affects me but affects Michael Guerin, obviously because I bring so much of myself to the character. But definitely, the guy puts on such a tough guy act and he’s like this bad ass sex symbol, but at the end of the day he’s a sad vulnerable boy who just wants love and acceptance.

L: Aww, that’s so sweet!

M: I know, right?

L: I think we actually just talked about that in our last episode about how he wants everyone to thinks he’s such a badass, but he’s just this big old heart on his sleeve guy, and I love that you picked more of a softer, vulnerable song, I like that. Back to the malex relationship, obviously I’m single-minded here, but it’s been so special for the fans and for us to even get to talk about it week to week. But what can you tease about their bond in the rest of the season?

MV: Oh boy. You know, I don’t wanna give anything away, but I can say that everything does come to a head, you know. And I think that even if we do say it or we don’t say it, you really know how we feel about each other, but you know, I don’t know if - I wanna be really careful with my words, because I really don’t want to give anything away. But I will say that in the next few episodes Michael and Alex get to really spend a lot more time together, they kind of bond up as they try to figure out this alien conspiracy, and you see how apparent the love is and I can’t say where we end up at the end of this season, but I will say that everyone will have a very clear idea of how we really feel about one another. Because right now, even though like, I think it was episode nine maybe that Shiri Appleby directed outside the trailer, you know, we tell each other that we love each other for the first time, and now it seems like, okay, we’re getting to know each other almost on a friend level because we never really got to be friends, we were broken up from each other for so long after that traumatic incident and everything happened so quickly, and all of a sudden he was gone off to war and I was doing my own thing, so I can’t say what the resolution is but you definitely get to see each other spend much time together, get to know who we are and set up anything that may be able to happen in the future or by the end of the season amongst the two of us.

L: That’s awesome, we’ll take it.

MV: Yeah!

L: I think it’s *inaudible cross talk for a second.* It’s apparent too, like there’s no doubt that you guys love each other, it’s just all the noise getting in the way a little bit.

MV: Yeah, that’s the problem. I go through this in my everyday life, you can love someone so much but maybe they’re just not right for you and that is a horrible feeling, something so hard to deal with and you never really know. Cause is love enough, or is it personality traits that need to align or family background or taste in different aspects of life, do all those things need to be in line too, or is love enough? And as a hopeless romantic I like to think that love is enough, but I don’t know, as I get older I’m not sure. I think it’s more than love, it’s compatibility, that these two guys up til now have just not been compatible because they haven’t been completely honest with one another. So it’s interesting, it’ll be interesting for you guys to watch too as the characters become more honest with one another where they end up.

L: Well, we’re so excited and we’re so grateful that you took the time to chat with us today, this was so much fun.

MV: Yeah, it was a blast. I appreciate you guys wanting to chat.

L: Don’t forget, listeners, important things to note from the discussion today. If you have curly hair wash it every other day or every few days.

MV: Laughs. Yep. Yep.

L: No matter what happens Malex still loves each other and let’s just accept what happens, whatever does, for the rest of the season. The fandom has just been so positive and so awesome thus far. It’s been great for us so it has to be even better for you. We’re just waiting for that season two renewal.

M: Mmhmm.

MV: Woo! I’m waiting too, I’m hoping they’ll let us know in the next uh - they gotta let us know by May, right? We got upfronts in May, we have to know by May.

L: That’s what we’re hoping too.

MV: That’s what I’m hoping too. And the show I heard goes on Netflix May first, I think Carina tweeted that out. So I think once that happens that’ll get a lot more people knowing about the show and watching us, and that’ll help the decision by the studio as well.

M: Oh yeah.

L: Woowoo!

MV: Yeah!

L: Well, thanks again for tuning in, and cheers to you! Thanks for joining us.

M: Yeah, thank you.

MV: Thanks, Meg, thanks Liz, I appreciate the support and good luck with everything. So I’ll be cheersing to you if I found out we got that season two.

M: Heck yeah.

L: Awesome, hopefully by the time you guys get season two, my second is due on May twenty seventh, that’s my due date, so Meg has been drinking without me -

MV: Oh!

L: And I’m like, ready to play that drinking game.

MV: Yes! Do you know if you’re having a boy or a girl?

L: No, we’re gonna be surprised again, so.

MV: Wow, that’s fun!

M: I was just gonna say we could name it after Roswell if we get that pickup, so CW, if you’re listening, you can name Liz’s baby, it’s fine.

L: Yeah, Pedowitz, I’ll name the baby after you if you renew Roswell.

M: Have little Marky.

MV: Yes, I love that. Well, congratulations.

L: Thanks so much.

#roswell new mexico #malex #michael vlamis #interview #space cowboy podcast

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dvp95 · 5 years ago

Text

can’t breathe when you touch my sleeve - chapter 4

pairing: dan howell/phil lester

rating: e (eventually)

warnings: none

tags: alternate universe, slow burn, fluff & humour, tiny bit of inner turmoil wrt sexuality but trust me it’s not that deep, eventual smut, idiots in love

word count: 3,122 for this chapter (15,775 total)

summary: Dan keeps making a fool of himself in interviews, to the point where it’s basically a meme. Now he’s got to sit down for the better part of an hour and sell his show to the YouTuber he’d had a massive crush on when he was a teenager.

read from the beginning on ao3 or on tumblr!

read this chapter on ao3 or here!

i want to die

Aw, what happened? Did you give SugarScape spoilers?

Despite Dan's horrible mood, that makes him snort. no you buffoon 1 sugarscape has been dead for yrs, much like how i would like to be 2 i don't say spoilers ever 3 it's WORSE

I may be a little out of the loop. You gonna make me guess? I'm sure it wasn't as bad as you think it was.

phil, Dan sends on its own for emphasis. i touched my coworkers tit on live telly and now i can't look her in the fucking eye

Jaime hadn't actually cared much. She'd laughed at him, made some jokes about how Dan's spatial awareness hadn't developed yet, and then moved on with grace. Meanwhile, Dan had been having a mild panic attack on his side of the sofa because all he'd meant to do was brush a distracting piece of lint off Jaime's shoulder and, somehow, drastically missed.

It was all of ten seconds of his life, and Dan is still freaking out about it. He's been pacing his hotel room since they got back, hasn't even bothered changing out of the nice shirt he'd worn for the interview.

Like accidentally? Phil finally replies on Dan's third lap of the room.

no phil i need to grope people on camera to finish. what kind of person do you think i am. YES ACCIDENTALLY.

I dunno what you're into. I'm sure she knew it was an accident?

Yes, Jaime knows it was an accident, but that's not the point. there will be gifs phil

Phil sends him some emojis, only some of which make any sense in context. Dan isn't sure why that calms him down so much. He sits on the edge of his bed and sighs, waiting for Phil to stop typing. It takes a while, but eventually Phil says, Then you'll deal with them. It honestly can't be worse than you falling off the Jimmy Kimmel stage? I swear I saw that gif for months before I knew who you were. And if you're worried about people saying you did it on purpose, tell Jaime. You can talk about it like adults.

It's all laid out very clearly, and while it does make Dan feel better, he doesn't think he's finished being dramatic yet. He checks the time and sighs heavily.

dont suppose you'd be up for a late lunch/early dinner to distract me??

Sure! :), Phil responds immediately. The quickness of his agreement makes that part of Dan's brain start shouting again. I'm actually filming today though. I'll be done in like half an hour if you want to meet me here? Then we can either get takeaway or go out?

It's truly fascinating to Dan how practiced Phil seems to be at giving someone options and pretending like either one is fine rather than just offering his own opinion on the matter.

After assuring Phil that he'll be there, Dan considers getting changed. He's only got fifteen if he wants to get to Phil's place on time, and he isn't exactly known for his quick wardrobe decisions.

In the end, Dan just swaps his nice shoes for some sneakers and rolls his sleeves up. He's a little overdressed still, a McQueen button-down maybe a little too fancy for just hanging out with a new friend, but. He doesn't want to be late. Besides, he looks good. Maybe he likes the idea of Phil being surprised, looking him up and down, having the interview as an excuse to be so dressed up.

The part of Dan's brain that exists to remind him that men are attractive has been so, so loud this week. It's been impossible to ignore.

Dan messes with his straightened fringe until his phone beeps, telling him his Uber is outside. He remembers where Phil lives, in the very vaguest sense, but has to get the exact address from Phil.

He's glad that Phil's front door is painted a specific sort of blue. It would be just Dan's luck to knock on the wrong narrow brick building.

Thor barks, somewhere inside, and Dan shoves his hands in his jean pockets as he waits for Phil to answer the door.

"Hey!" Phil greets him before he's even fully opened the door, beaming. To the great pleasure of Dan's ego, Phil's eyebrows raise as he looks Dan over. "Y'know, you could have changed. I wouldn't have minded waiting a bit."

"Feeling underdressed?" Dan teases.

"A little," says Phil. He pushes his glasses up and gestures at his own graphic tee and slippered feet. "If I'd known there was a dress code, I'd have put on a sports coat."

"You look fine, I was just impatient," says Dan. He waits for another beat. "Uh, can I... come in?"

Phil is giving him a smile, the one with deep eye crinkles and his tongue trapped in his teeth, but it drops as he realises that they've just been standing in his doorway. "Oh! Yeah, sorry, come in. I'm actually not done filming just yet, Thor distracted me. Shouldn't take long."

"What are you filming?" Dan asks curiously, his heart pounding a bit as he follows Phil inside and then, surprisingly, downstairs. "Wait, you're the basement flat? Your video lighting is so good, though!"

"Mostly artificial," says Phil. He sounds wistful. "Someday I'll have a place with a glass window, just you wait."

"What are your windows made of now?"

"What? They're made of glass."

"Then why would you need to wait for one?"

"What did I say?"

"Glass window," says Dan, fighting back giggles. They reach the basement door and Phil lets them in, giving Dan a sheepish sort of smile over his shoulder.

"I meant a glass wall. Like a wall of windows, y'know? That's the dream."

"Yeah, it is," Dan agrees, but he's distracted by the fact that he's in Phil's flat. He kicks his shoes off among the pile next to the door and looks around. "It feels super weird to be seeing this place in 3D."

"Oh, probably," Phil laughs. "You want some slippers? My feet get so cold down here, I've got like a dozen pairs."

"I'm alright."

Phil's flat has less natural light than Dan had expected - or, evidently, than Phil would prefer - but the sheer number of lamps, string lights, and scented candles scattered around the place give it a soft glow that Dan is a big fan of. There are bright colours on every surface and every wall, and the overall effect isn't as overwhelming as it could be. Dan still thinks it could be edited down, but. It's very Phil.

To his vague surprise, he sees Phil's bed pushed against the far wall, a backless bookshelf the only divider from the open living space. Box lights and camera are all set up at the side of his bed.

"If I didn't know what you did for a living," says Dan, gesturing at the setup.

Phil grins at him. "Yeah. My landlord still doesn't believe that I don't make porn. You want a drink?"

"Sure, whatever you're having," says Dan. He spots Thor, curled up on a fluffy dog bed in the corner, and immediately starts cooing. "Oh, there you are! Hello!"

Thor perks up, cocking his head to the side, and Dan gets on the floor to call him over. Within seconds, he ends up on his back with an armful of happy puppy, and he giggles helplessly as Thor licks all over his face.

"Thor, down," Phil says from somewhere above them, sounding amused. Thor backs off, winding through Phil's legs a couple of times before he trots back to his bed.

"I love him," Dan informs Phil, still flat on his back. It's not the most flattering angle to look up at Phil, but he can deal.

"So do I," says Phil. He holds up a glass. "Ribena?"

"Please," says Dan, standing back up to accept the drink. He suddenly feels very weird, standing in the middle of Phil's lounge slash dining area slash kitchen slash bedroom. "Er, you've still got to finish filming, yeah? I can just... sit."

With a small grin, Phil waves at his sofa. "Make yourself at home. Just try not to rile Thor up too much? He's already made my blooper reel longer than the video itself."

"I think I can handle that."

Dan cannot, in fact, handle it. He brings his Ribena to the floor so he can sit next to the dog bed and scratch all of Thor's favourite spots. He finds one of Thor's toys as he listens to Phil wrap up a story that sounds maybe ten percent true, and then - well. It progresses to a tug of war before Dan can even entertain the idea that this might be distracting to Phil.

"Dan," Phil says, in this tone like he's trying to sound stern but can't stop smiling. "Are you growling at Thor?"

Yes. "Maybe."

"Maybe? I'm literally filming right now."

"He's just so cute," Dan whines.

"I know he is," says Phil. "I deal with this struggle every day of my life."

Dan sighs and lets Thor have the rope, watching wistfully as he zooms off with it. "Sorry, I'm really not trying to be a dick. I know this is your job."

"Hey, no," says Phil, suddenly sounding much closer. Dan looks up from corgi-watching to see Phil leaning against one side of his shelves, hands in his pockets and a soft smile playing around his lips. Butterflies erupt somewhere in Dan's belly. "I'm not bothered, really. I think it's cute. I just also, y'know, would like to eat sometime today."

"Why don't I just order something?" Dan suggests.

"Alright," Phil hums. "I'm lactose intolerant and hate mushrooms, but the intolerance can be ignored for pizza if that's what you want."

If that's what Dan wants. "What do you want?"

Phil blinks. "Oh, whatever."

"No," Dan presses. He knows it isn't very good manners, but he wants to see if Phil will actually offer an opinion of his own instead of walking that thin line of indifference. "I will quite literally eat anything. You pick."

It's quiet for a moment while Phil thinks it over, only the hum of the refrigerator and Thor's little huffs of breath for background noise. Dan has to admit that the small basement windows have an upside - less traffic din is able to get through. Coupled with the way Phil has lit his flat, the atmosphere makes Dan feel comfortable, like he could curl up here and just stay.

The rug under Dan is soft, the Ribena is perfectly watered down, and he's got a cute dog and a cute boy to stare at. He really could sit here forever and be content.

"I feel like Chinese," Phil says eventually. He's chewing on his lip, and Dan realises he hasn't seen Phil look so... anxious.

"Chinese sounds great," says Dan. "I'll order."

Phil seems relieved that he hasn't accidentally made a horrible choice or something, and he goes back to filming while Dan fucks around on different apps to find the best Chinese place in Phil's area.

"You never actually told me how you managed to grope someone."

Dan, who had gotten all wrapped up in chow mein and MasterChef and had forgotten his hellish morning by this point, chokes on air.

"Oh my god, nooooo," he groans, covering his face with both hands and sinking further into the sofa. He hears Phil laugh. "She just! Had some fucking, like, fluff on her shoulder. Like lint. I was gonna brush it off."

"How did you fuck that up so hard?" Phil asks. He sounds so amused that Dan wants to keep hiding, but the curse has him peeking out between his fingers curiously.

"I've never heard you swear," says Dan.

"I don't," says Phil, "on YouTube."

Unfortunately for Dan, the sound of Phil swearing is very hot. He groans again, overdramatic to cover up his very real blush, and gesticulates wildly. "My limbs are not friends with my brain, okay, I've got very big hands and I misjudged where I was putting one of them."

"Yeah, you do." Phil's eyes track Dan's hands with an intensity that makes Dan's gut constrict. Then he blinks, meets Dan's eye again, and the look is gone. "That sucks. I get it, though, my body and brain are not on the same frequency at all."

Dan thinks, a little hysterically, that this is a very good reason not to try and have sex with AmazingPhil - he doesn't want to end up in A&E.

There are roughly a hundred other reasons, too. Dan's uncertainty about his own identity, the fact that he's only in the UK for another two weeks, and the very real bond that they've been forming as friends are all at the forefront of his mind. Even so, it helps to make a joke to himself about it.

"Have you ever touched a tit accidentally?" Dan asks dryly.

"I've never touched a tit at all," says Phil. He's drinking coffee despite the hour hurtling into evening quickly, and Dan has to wonder if he ever sleeps. "Not really my wheelhouse."

"They're fine," Dan says, with much less enthusiasm than he normally would. He can't sit here and talk about his boob opinions with Phil, though, because that way lies madness. So he changes the subject, talks loudly about the episode of MasterChef they're on.

He's not ready to come out properly to himself, let alone to someone he barely knows.

Well, okay. It would be more accurate to say 'just met', because Dan feels like he does know Phil fairly well at this point. At least as well as he knows Jaime or Patrick. And maybe that's more of a commentary on how shit a coworker he is, how bad at making friends he is, but whatever. The point is that he likes spending time with Phil a lot, and he wants to do it more, but he can't have that conversation yet.

Dan knows he's attracted to guys. When he was younger and had an even worse handle on himself, that attraction would either lead to fumbling, fearing for his safety, or both.

Right now, specifically, he is attracted to Phil. This feels different, because he's got no reason to fear Phil or to immediately jump him, he's just comfortable sitting next to Phil in the dim light and letting the warmth of the feelings settle in his chest.

Maybe someday he'll be ready to tell Phil that he likes guys. Maybe that'll even go somewhere. For now, Dan is going to trash talk the chefs like he knows what he's talking about and settle into Phil's sofa and laugh like he belongs there.

Dan gets a little too comfortable. He has no idea what time it is when his eyes start to droop, but he's sure it's unreasonably early for someone who goes to sleep in the wee hours of morning most of the time.

A hand on his shoulder jerks him back into full awareness, and Dan blinks over at Phil. "Whuh?"

"Hey," says Phil. He's smiling and his voice is low. Dan can feel the slight chill of Phil's palm through the thin material of his dress shirt.

It's overwhelming, suddenly, how much Dan wants to lean in to Phil. The itch under his skin that he would feel ten years or so ago, the restless, guilty want that had him falling into bed with whatever bloke would let him, is thrumming through him with an intensity he hasn't prepared for. Dan's tongue feels heavy, and his gaze drops to Phil's mouth before he can stop it.

"Hey," echoes Dan, a beat or two late.

"You're falling asleep," Phil says. There's something about his tone that Dan can't quite place, so focused on his own emotions as he is. "You wanna stay over?"

Dan really, really does. But he really, really, really shouldn't.

"I can't," he says, not bothering to hide how regretful it makes him to turn the offer down. "Breakfast telly or whatever in the morning."

The loss of Phil's hand on Dan is one that he thinks he'll be feeling until Phil touches him again. "Of course. You probably have to wake up ridiculously early for that, huh?"

"Unfortunately."

Dan orders himself an Uber and slides to the floor with Thor in order to stop himself from giving his body what it wants in the short amount of time before it arrives. Thor likes the attention, and when Dan glances up to see the soft, unguarded look in Phil's eye, he thinks that Phil probably doesn't mind being ditched for his dog.

They chat about MasterChef and Dan's upcoming interview for a few minutes, safe topics, and Dan is disappointed when his phone beeps with the notification that his driver is close. He doesn't actually want to leave, he just knows he has to.

"We have to do this again before you head up to Edinburgh," says Phil. He walks Dan to the door, which is a little pointless - it's a total of eight steps away.

"How'd you know we're going to Edinburgh this weekend?" Dan asks, distracted from the process of getting his shoes on.

"Been in the business a while, lucky guess."

"Right. Well, then, I'll have to see what I'm doing on Friday."

"Yeah, just message me," says Phil.

There's a moment after Dan gets his shoes on where they're both just standing there looking at each other, and Dan's heart starts pounding like he's getting chased.

"I'll see you Friday," Dan says quietly, even though he isn't sure that he's free. He just needs to say something. His phone beeps again, probably telling him the driver is outside, and Dan is both relieved and annoyed.

Phil opens his mouth to say something, but Dan's racing heart and anxious mind doesn't want to hear whatever it is. He steps forward and wraps his arms around Phil's waist in a tight goodbye hug. It's the sort of embrace he'd give any of his friends, nothing overly intimate, but he knows he'll be thinking about it later anyway.

When Phil's arms drape over Dan's shoulders and his thumb brushes deliberate circles over the back of Dan's neck, it hits Dan very suddenly that if he were to try and kiss Phil right now, Phil would let him. That kind of knowledge is intoxicating, the surety of it making Dan's head swim.

But. He still doesn't know for sure what he wants, and his Uber is waiting. So he just pulls away, says goodnight, leaves.

#phanfic #phanfiction #dnp fic #phan #words words words #can't breathe when you touch my sleeve

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