#I managed to catch it on camera through the eyepiece

[romanticize-until-you-drop]

2024-04-13

Incredibly stressful week. Just test upon test, deadline upon deadline. School and my extracurriculars have ramped up, and my to-do list seems suffocating at times.

But hey: at least I have good tea and a great eye for finding amoebas.

[shawtygonemad]

What Is This Feeling: Chapter 8

Fem!9th Doctor x Male!Rose Tyler

WITF Masterlist

The Doctor was in and out of consciousness. That laser almost hurt as bad as regenerating. She stayed silent. She didn't want to say anything that would make Van Statten blast her again. Suddenly a voice came over the intercom.

"Condition Red! Condition Red! I repeat, this is not a drill."

The Doctor lifted her head and made eye contact with Van Statten. Her voice was hoarse, but dead serious.

"Release me if you want to live."

He quickly followed her command and released the Time Lord. She had never gotten dressed that quickly in her life. Then again the entire world depended on it. Within minutes they were in Van Statten's office observing the cage from a flat screen on the wall. Ross was on said screen talking with them. The Doctor honestly couldn't be surprised.

"You've got to keep it in that cell," she told them.

"Doctor, it's all my fault," Ross spoke apologetically.

"I've sealed the compartment. It can't get out, that lock's got a billion combinations," the guard said.

"A Dalek's a genius. It can calculate a thousand billion combinations in one second flat."

The Doctor looked on as she was just proven right. The metal door slowly opened, and released the Dalek. The guard's started to do an open fire. Don't they know it won't work?!

"Ross, get out of there!" She commanded her companion.

Ross, the other girl, and the female guard managed to escape. The Dalek, however, was rolling itself towards the camera. Thus getting closer to the screen. It extended its plunger and broke the connection.

"We're losing power," Goddard gathered around the computer screen with Van Statten and the Doctor. "It's draining the base. Oh, my god. It's draining entire power supplies for the whole of Utah."

The trio was analyzing a holographic map of the United States. Utah blackened.

"It's downloading," the Doctor informed them.

"Downloading what?" Van Statten asked.

The whole West Coast blackened on the map.

"Sir, the entire West Coast has gone down," Goddard updated.

"It's not just energy. That Dalek just absorbed the entire internet. It knows everything," the Doctor stated.

Goddard started to pound away on the computer. "The cameras in the vault are down."

"We've only got emergency power. It's eaten everything else. You've got to kill it now!" The Doctor yelled.

Goddard spoke over the intercom. "All guards to converge in the Metaltron cage, immediately."

The three no longer had visual, but they still had audio. This was just as bad. They grimly heard the guards die one by one. They were soon all dead, and Van Statten couldn't care less. All he cared about was the stupid Dalek.

"This museum of yours, have you got any alien weapons," the Doctor asked.

"Lots of them, but the trouble is the Dalek's between us and them," Goddard explained.

"We've got to keep that thing alive. We could just seal the entire vault, trap it down there," Van Statten suggested.

"Leaving everyone trapped with it. Ross is down there. I won't let that happen. Have you got that?" She stared at the man with fire in her eyes. She then turned back to Goddard. "It's got to go through this area. What's that?" She pointed to an area on the screen.

"Weapon's testing."

"Give a gun to the technicians, the lawyers, anyone. Everyone. Only have one chance of killing it," she informed the assistant.

The Doctor sat down at the computer and began to attempt to get one of the screens to show visuals. After a few minutes the screen showed the loading bay. She practically whooped at her accomplishment.

"I thought you were a great expert, Doctor. If you're so impressive, then why not just reason with the Dalek? It must be willing to negotiate. There must be something it needs. Everything needs something," Van Statten question.

"What's the nearest town," the Doctor asked.

"Salt Lake City."

"Population?"

"One million."

"All dead. If the Dalek gets out, it'll murder every living creature. That's all it needs," the Doctor tried to explain to the stupid ape for what seemed like the thousandth time. He's turned out to be quite dense.

"But why would it do that?"

"Because it honestly believes they should die. Human beings are different, and anything different is wrong. It's the ultimate in racial cleansing, and you, Van Statten, you've let it loose! The Dalek's surrounded by a force field. The bullets are melting before they even hit home, but it's not indestructible," she tried to explain.

She turned from Van Statten and spoke to the screen. "If you concentrate your fire, you might get through. Aim for the dome, the head, the eyepiece. That's the weak spot," she told him.

Moments of anticipation passed. Soon Ross and the girl came running in, making most of them jump. They soon fled the battle area once again. It wasn't long after that the Dalek appeared.

The guards held open fire against the Dalek. None of the bullets affected it. The Dalek rose in the air and zapped the fire alarm. Water started to rain down from the sprinklers. Once the ground and metal beams were nice and wet, the Dalek zapped them. This caused the guards to all get electrocuted, and die.

The trio all stared at the screen in fallen silence. It didn't take long for Van Statten to start making an escape plan for himself. However, this needed to end. Now.

"You said we could seal the vault?" The Time Lord asked.

"It was designed to be a bunker in an event of a nuclear war. Steel bulkheads," the American confirmed.

"There's not enough power. Those bulkheads are massive," Goddard added.

"We've got emergency power. We can re-route that to the bulkhead doors," the Doctor told her.

"We'd have to bypass the security codes. That would take a computer genius."

"Good thing you've got me, then," Van Statten spoke as he sat down in front of the computer.

"You want to help," the Doctor was truly surprised at this.

"I don't want to die, Doctor. Simple as that. And nobody knows this software better than me."

Just then the large screen lit up with an image of the Dalek still in the rain.

"I shall speak on-ly to the doc-tor," it demanded.

"You're going to get rusty," the Doctor commented.

"I fed off the D-N-A of Ross Ty-ler. Ex-tra-po-la-ting the bi-o-mass of a time tra-ve-ler re-gen-er-at-ed me," it told the Doctor.

Her face was deadpan as she spoke, "What's your next trick?"

"I have been sear-ching for the Da-leks."

"Yeah, I saw. Downloading the internet. What did you find?"

"I scanned your sa-tell-ites and ra-di-o tel-e-scopes," it told the Doctor.

"And?"

"No-thing. Where should I get my or-ders now," it asked, almost sounding lost.

"All right, then. If you want orders, follow this one. Kill yourself," she told it honestly.

"Daleks must survive!" It shot back.

The Doctor could no longer take it. This foul creature was the reason she was forced to blow up her home planet, causing genocide for both races.

"The Daleks have failed! Why don't you just finish the job and make the Dalek's extinct. Rid the universe of your filth. Why don't you just die?!" She practically screamed at the creature.

There was a short pause before the machine spoke again. "You would make a good Da-lek."

Then the screen went to black. The Doctor's stomach dropped at the words. Her eyes were slightly widened as she stared at the black screen.

"Seal the vaults," she ordered quickly.

"Doctor, he's still down there," Goddard reminded the Doctor.

She quickly put a headset on, and called the number she knew by heart.

"This isn't the best time," Ross answered.

"Where are you," she asked.

"Level forty nine," he responded.

"You've got to keep moving. The vault's being sealed off at level forty six," she informed him.

"Can't you stop them closing?"

"I'm the one closing them. I can't wait, and I can't help you. Now for God's sake, Run!"

"Done it. We've got power to the bulkheads," Van Statten reported. Good news!

"The Dalek's right behind them," Goddard also reported in. Bad news!

"We're nearly there! Give us two seconds," Ross told the Doctor.

"Doctor, I can't sustain the power. The whole system is failing. Doctor, you've got to close the bulkheads," Van Statten said.

The Doctor was then left with an incredibly hard decision. Save her human, or let the entire human race get destroyed. No matter how much she wanted to wait for Ross. One race was already wiped out because of her. She was not going to let it happen a second time.

"I'm sorry," she said quietly as she hit the enter key, lowering the bulkheads.

Moments later, Van Statten spoke up.

"The vault is sealed."

The Doctor leapt up from her chair anxiously.

"Ross, where are you? Ross, did you make it?"

"Sorry, I was a bit slow," he sadly responded.

Her hearts stopped. Ross didn't make it. He was trapped out there because of her. Now the Dalek's going to catch up with him and she can't do anything.

"See you, then, Doctor."

'Oh God, he's saying his goodbyes!'

"It wasn't your fault. Remember that, okay? It wasn't your fault. And you know what? I wouldn't have missed it for the world."

In the background she could hear the Dalek's 'Exterminate', and the zap of its laser.

"I killed him," she said softly.

"I'm sorry," Van Statten apologized.

"I said I'd protect him. He was only here because of me, and you're sorry? I could've killed that Dalek in its cell, but you stopped me," she turned her self-hatred onto Van Statten.

"It was the prize of my collection!"

"YOUR COLLECTION!? But was it worth it? Worth all of those men's deaths? Worth Ross? Let me tell you something, Van Statten. Mankind goes into space to explore, to be part of something greater."

"Exactly! I wanted to touch the stars," he exclaimed.

"You just want to drag the stars down and stick them underground, underneath tons of sand and dirt, and label them. You're about as far from the stars as you can get," she paused in realization.

"And you took him down with you. He was nineteen years old."

Adele suddenly entered the office. The Doctor was quickly in her face, ready to release some more anger.

"You were quick on your feet, leaving Ross behind," she spat out.

"I'm not the one who sealed the vault," she yelled back.

The screen lit up with an image of the Dalek and a very much alive Ross.

"Op-en the bulk-heads or Ross Ty-ler dies," it demanded.

"You're alive!" The Doctor exclaimed excitedly. Oh was she so relieved.

"Can't get rid of me," he gave a small smile.

"I thought you were dead," the Doctor, almost tearfully, said.

"Op-en the bulk-head," the Dalek demanded once more.

"Don't do it," Ross yelled, attempting to be brave.

"What use are e-mo-tions if you will not save the man you love?" It asked.

It felt like time had slowed down.

'Love. Is that was this is? This confusing feeling I have for this pink and yellow human?'

No. It can't be love. How could a Gallifreyan possibly be in love with a human? They were two separate races! No. It just wouldn't work.

'Oh, my god. I'm falling in love with Ross Tyler,' she thought, horrified.

After her sudden epiphany, she looked at Van Statten.

"I killed him once. I can't do it again," she told him as she pressed the enter key once more.

The bulkhead opened. Ross and the Dalek made their way through.

"What do we do now, you bleeding heart! What the hell do we do," Van Statten yelled.

"Kill it when it gets here," Adele suggested.

"All the guns are useless, and the alien weapons are in the vault," Goddard stated, stressing out.

"Only the catalogued ones," Adele blurted.

Van Statten didn't look pleased. The Doctor shoved her towards the exit door.

"Lead me," she demanded.

Adele quickly took the Doctor down to her workshop. Once inside she showed the Time Lord the weapons. The Doctor went through the bin, tossing the useless items.

"Broken. Broken. Hairdryer."

"Mister Van Statten tends to dispose of his staff, and when he does he wipes their memory. I kept this stuff in case I needed to fight my way out one day," Adele explained.

"What, you in a fight," the Doctor scoffed. "I'd like to see that."

"I could do," she protested.

"What're you going to do? Throw your A-levels at 'em?" The Doctor grinned as she picked up a useful, and deadly, giant weapon. "Oh, yes. Lock and load."

Without second thought, the Doctor bolted out of Adele's workshop, and up the stairs. She was going to finally kill this thing and save the Earth. No, forget the Earth. She was going to save Ross.

Once the Doctor made it to level one she sprinted down the corridor. She stopped once she saw Ross with the Dalek. She didn't allow herself time to take in the situation. All she could feel was the adrenaline pumping in her veins, and the fury of her dead people. It was going to end, now! She held up the large gun, and aimed it at the Dalek

"Get out of the way." Ross just turned and stared at her. "Ross, get out of the way!"

"No. I won't let you do this," he protested.

"That thing killed hundreds of people," she said.

"It's not the one pointing the gun at me."

"I've got to do this. I've got to end it. The Daleks destroyed my home, my people. I've got nothing left."

"Look at it," he gestured to the squid-like creature inside the metal armor.

"What's it doing," she asked.

"It's the sunlight, that's all it wants."

"But it can't-"

"It couldn't kill Van Statten, it couldn't kill me. It's changing. What about you, Doctor? What the hell are you changing into," Ross asked.

Finally realizing what was going on, the Doctor lowered her gun.

"I couldn't- I wasn't- Oh, Ross. They're all dead," she said sadly.

"Why do we sur-vive," Dalek asked.

"I don't know," the Doctor frowned.

"I am the last of the Da-leks," it stated.

"You're not even that. Ross did more than regenerate you. You've absorbed his DNA. You're mutating."

"In-to what," it asked.

"Something new. I'm sorry," and she was.

"Isn't new better?" Ross asked.

` "Not for a Dalek," she replied.

"I can feel so ma-ny i-de-as," it spoke. "So much dark-ness. Ross, give me or-ders. Or-der me to die."

"I can't do that," Ross said quietly.

"This is not life. This is sick-ness. I shall not be like you. Or-der my des-tru-ction! O-bey! O-bey! O-bey!"

After a moment, Ross finally spoke up.

"Do it."

"Are you fright-ened, Ross Ty-ler?"

"Yeah," he answered.

"So am I… Ex-ter-min-ate."

Ross began to retreat to the Doctor's side, and out of harm's way. The Dalek closed up its armor, and began to hover. The balls on the Dalek detached themselves and surrounded it. The balls also formed a force field around it. The Dalek then imploded on itself. The Doctor nor Ross was harmed.

Once it was all over the Doctor dropped her gun. The pair instantly embraced one another and wouldn't let go. After a few moments the Doctor found her voice.

"I'm so sorry, Ross. For everything," she apologized.

"It's alright. You were upset," Ross soothed the alien. They pulled apart and Ross looked at the Doctor. "Tell me about it. The Time War."

So on their way back to the TARDIS, she told the tale of the Time War. Ross took all of the details surprisingly well. He seemed to understand.

Once back in the museum, the Doctor ran a hand over the TARDIS door.

"A little piece of home. Better than nothing," she said.

"Is that the end of it, the Time War?"

"I'm the only one left. I win. How about that," she gave a sad smile.

"The Dalek survived. Maybe some of your people did too," Ross suggested.

"I'd know. In here," she pointed to her head. "Feels like there's no one."

"Well then, good thing I'm not going anywhere," he grinned at her.

"Yeah," she smiled back.

The moment was short lived as Adele appeared with her bag in hand.

"We'd better get out. Van Statten's disappeared. They're closing down the base. Goddard says they're going to fill it full of cement, like it never existed."

"About time," Ross commented.

"I'll have to go back home," Adele said sadly.

"Better hurry up. Next flight to Heathrow leaves at fifteen hundred hours," the Doctor informed her.

"Adele was saying that all her life she wanted to see the stars," Ross said while giving the puppy dog eyes to the Doctor.

'Oh no! Not gonna happen.'

"Tell her to go and stand outside, then."

"She's all on her own, Doctor, and she did help."

"She left you down there," the Doctor accused.

"So did you." This shut her up.

"What are you talking about? We've got to leave," Adele asked confused.

"Plus, she's a bit pretty," the Doctor added.

"I hadn't noticed," he replied.

"On your head," she said regretfully as she unlocked the TARDIS and stepped in.

She walked over to the console and prepared for takeoff.

"What are you doing? She said cement. She wasn't joking. We're going to get sealed in. Doctor? What're you doing standing inside a box? Ross?"

"Oh, get in," the Doctor snapped.

This was going to be a long trip.

[death---dealer]

Camera Shy. [ John Deacon Oneshot ].

Look at me mom, no self control!!!

Title: Camera Shy. Pairing: John Deacon x Reader. Words: 1,727. Rating: K. [ Complete and utter flUFF ]. Summary: John loves to take pictures of you, but you very seldom take any of him. You finally mention it and he gives in, letting you take a shot of him.

READ IT ON MY AO3.

It’s a warm 1971 day, a breeze rolling in and shuddering through your body and reminding you that yes, it is the summer time but there’s always the possibility of a cold rain shower later in the afternoon as you perch yourself on the grass, looking up at John who bent down on one knee in front of you, eager now more than you had seen him in a while. Well, this was the first time you actually had seen him in a while, after all, Queen was picking up, he was spending more time with the guys, touring, recording, drawing up bigger and better plans for the bands future, than he was with you. Which, ultimately you understood. It just made moments like this--- the odd off days when he wasn’t needed in the studio or needed by the rest of Queen for anything, that you cherished more than before because it allowed the two of you to be a conventional couple, next to each other, rather than aimlessly placed on two different continents while he played to thousands of people and you were left to go about your daily life as if he were still there, crinkly eyed smile and all to greet you when you got home. Gazing up at him through the light of the sun, you raised a hand to cover your eyes and give you some shade as John said, “The sun is hitting you just right.” But, his words didn’t seem to matter. You were so preoccupied swooning at the man you had so luckily nabbed and were able to call your own. So beautiful, you think to yourself as his thick, brown hair softly cascaded down to his shoulders, some of it shrouding your view of his face as he was leaning so intently into the eyepiece of the camera, shoulders hunching in on themselves as he rests his elbow onto his knee, getting into a proper position to take a stunning photo of you lounging.

“I need this picture, (Name).” John has got his eye to the eyepiece of his camera, one eye closed, nose crinkled cutely and a charming half-grin spread across his cheeks as he tells you to flash a smile. “Just one more,” He urges you forward, “I promise, this is the last one for today and then I will,” You watched the bassist adjust a knob on the camera, almost as if it were second nature to John. But, you knew better--- it was his bass that was second nature, photography, or in his mind just taking pictures of you in the most mundane of moments, came third in nature. “Then I will put the camera down and look at you with my own eyes instead. Just smile for me.” You do smile for him– it’s faux, unnatural and you were posing for it, but John still thinks you’re one of the most beautiful things he’s ever laid sights on as the camera is lightly rested on the ground beside him, the brunette leaning in and pressing his lips against your cheek sweetly. “Thank you. Now I’ve got a picture of you really cheesing it up for the camera.”

“It was my pleasure to cheese it for you, Deaks.” You grin and turn your head to capture his lips in a kiss as he sits down beside you, grunting as he lands on the hard ground before falling onto his forearms and tilting his head back. There’s a moment or two of silence between John and yourself before you take a leap of faith and ask him softly while your fingertips lightly rest on his chest, spidering their way along the buttons on his shirt, “Why do you never let me take any pictures of you, Deaky?”

“I’m camera shy.” You tilted your head at that reply and pucker your lips at the speed of which he gave it to you. Understandable. Even with Queen he liked to stay out of the center of attention and off to the side like some sort of blur. But, even though he strove to do that and stay out of the limelight, you only had eyes for him and made it abundantly clear as you trickled your touch up, caressing his neck tenderly before allowing your fingers to expand along his cheek and jawline, holding his face. 

“One picture, for me?” 

You almost heard him groan next to you, but it came out more as a sigh than anything. Turning his head to the side, he looked down at his camera and contemplated his options. His very, very limited options. John didn’t like to say no to you and though you wouldn’t press if he did say no at this particular moment, he would feel guilty that he denied you such a simple pleasure as taking his photo. You, still holding onto the side of his face lightly coaxed him into look back at you, John’s usually pouty lips parting as he gazed into your eyes for a split second before nodding carelessly, his wall of brown hair following that movement. He’s not going to know how it turns out until he gets it developed, so maybe if he doesn’t look that great, he can toss it out before bringing the rest of the pictures to you so the two of you can look together with the excuse of ‘it was very blurry, I’m sure you didn’t want that’. That seemed like a plan, he figured and held out his camera for you to take. “One picture, nothing more, (Name). I will smash the film if there’s more than one picture of me on there.”

The smile that you give him is extraordinary, it’s gentle and it’s… Well… It’s perfect…. Just like you, he thinks to himself and lays back on his forearms as you play around with the camera a bit, figuring out the calibrations needed as you lightly place yourself onto his lap. Caution was so swept away when you straddle your boyfriend, not caring that you were in a public park as you were desperate to get the perfect picture of John. He gave you one chance and you weren’t going to waist it. A cheeky grin is rolling onto your cheeks as he reaches down and grabs your hips to keep you steady while you look into the eye piece. “Really, in my lap? In public, love? Never thought you to be into that sort of---”

Heat rushed across your cheeks as you lightly pat his chest, falsely offended that he was even be thinking that. But, it was hard not to. Even for you, the dirty image did run across your mind vividly as your legs readjusted themselves so you were more comfortably seated on him. John remained on his forearms, laying back but not completely. Almost as if he were asking for you to come straddle him, asking you to sit on his lap, lean in and give him one of those filthy kisses where you dived right into his mouth with your tongue. That would make him want to take a picture, he was sure. “A photographer’s got to do what a photographer’s got to do, right?” John couldn’t argue with that logic. “To get the perfect pose from the perfect muse.”

“Ah, you’re pushing it. You’re meant to flatter me as a model, not flirt with me.” “Tell me the difference.”

“Oh,” He squeaked in a high pitched tone of voice, very obviously mocking you. Imitations were not his thing, you quickly realized as he continued, “Deaky, you’re so perfect, so pretty, wow, I think I’ll just lean down and kiss you.” Covering your mouth with one hand, you leaned the camera against your chest and laughed. “Was that supposed to be me?”

“Flirting, yes.” He laughed along side with you, throwing his head back while doing so. You were tempted in that moment to take a picture then, but his face wouldn’t be in focus enough for you to enjoy the picture once it was developed. You wanted a picture of him, face forward with that classic Deaky smile, tooth gap on display, tongue pressed against the back of his teeth, eyes crinkling, eyebrows raised, mouth almost sore from smiling. That was your favorite expression of his, you realized when you were falling in love. The way he smiled--- the way it formed against his rather gentle features. While some people smiled with just their mouths, John smiled with his entire face and he beamed like a ray of sunlight.

“I’m a smooth talker.” You wiggled your eyebrows cutely and raised the camera once again to get ready to snap a photo at any given moment. “I’m glad I’ve got that on my side because I am shitty as a photographer.”

“I can give you lessons.”

“Free?”

“Hm…” John balled his face up and shook his head playfully, “I’ll charge you, one kiss per shot. Sound fair?” He smiled then, but not the sort of smile you were expecting. This was the relaxed smile that he gave you when the two of you were in bed together in the wee hours of the morning, just basking in the glow of being next to one another. The sort of smile he’d give you after having sex, lazy and uninterrupted of any emotion other than complete and utter love. You were breathless, your pointer finger falling and snapping a picture right then and there. That’s what you wanted. You wanted no poses, no unnecessarily prompted smiles by saying ‘smile for me’. You wanted a natural picture of John, something you could look at while he was on tour and remember when you took it, how you felt when you were taking it and how you wanted to take another one. And another, just for safekeeping.

“I’d charge more than that,” Putting the camera down lightly besides the two of you, you finally closed in on John’s face and pressed your lips against his. Nothing overtly sensual or sexual, just a mild, run-of-the-mill sort of kiss that still managed to get both of your hearts racing. “Two,” You peppered your lips onto his, barely but still managed to catch the breathless way he chased after your lips, “three kisses per shot sounds more adequate for you sharing your skills with me…”

//PERMANENT QUEEN TAG LIST// ( if you want to be added, send me a message ): @flyforeverfree @adonais @brianandthemays @attatchment-issues @wine-and-bread @fixedonroger @filmvinyls @p-eaach-es @bucket-of-kittens @im-just-me-darling @wonderless-screwup @instantezra @rvndyscousegit @queensavedmylife@sleepretreat @dove-turned-destroyer @rogers-wristbands @brianmay-rogertaylor @annistrashbin @that70skiwi @storm-howlett @pablo-thiccasso @chonkyhambs @obsessedwithrogertaylor @truthdaze @perriwiinkle @benhardyownsmyass @spacedeacon @heartsforhoran @queenattheopera

[wannasupersmash-blog]

° · BUCKET LIST: PART THREE · °

points earned for completing the whole task: 200

There were only a few more hours left with Zayn and he didn’t want to waste them by just lying in bed together. Javi grabbed the cameras he brought with him and set up a few extra lamps around Zayn’s bedroom, hoping the light would be enough for the photos to come out. He had always loved taking pictures of the older male, just because it was so easy. The poses, the setting, the light, it all was so easy to manipulate and no matter what, the photos always came out perfectly. Javi always blamed it on it how attractive Zayn was, even though he never admitted it out loud.

He started out with his digital camera, just taking a few shots of the other boy sitting in the bed. Zayn was scribbling on some paper. Writing or drawing, Javi wasn’t sure, but he looked focused. That was one thing he loved about Zayn: his focus. No matter what he was doing, there was always a look in his eyes; it was a strong dedication and commitment to what he had at hand.

Adjusting the lamp on the night stand, Javi snapped a few more pictures before he stepped across the room once more. He switched cameras, shutting off the one he had been using and setting it on the shelf. His second camera was really important to him; it was a gift from his mom and his aunt for his 20th birthday. He usually used it for landscape photos, maybe a dog every now and then if it was the only one he had on him. It had been used a few times with Zayn, though; a lot of the pictures covering the wall in the apartment were developed from it.

As he was wrapping the camera strap around his wrist, Javi stepped closer to the bed, standing at the end and waiting for Zayn to lean back on his arms before he snapped the picture. Even after he had pushed the shutter button, he kept looking at the other through the eyepiece. He would never be able to understand how this was all happening. How it all came to be. It wasn’t possible to for him to wrap his head around. Having someone who was obviously out of his league there in front of him, sitting in his bed in just a pair of boxers with hickies scattering from the top of his neck down to his stomach. How was he able to manage this?

His knees hit the edge of the bed, so he climbed on top of it and decided to take a few closer shots. His hands, his arms, his torso, he focused on the smaller details of them. The way the veins along his arm stuck out the more he clenched at the sheets underneath them. The way the muscles along Zayn’s stomach tightened if Javi ghosted his fingers over it first. The smile that lit up his whole face when Javi poked at mark on the side of Zayn’s neck.

It wasn’t something he was expecting to feel. He had shot Zayn plenty of times before--the 50+ pictures that littered his apartment proved it. But this was feeling different. It didn’t feel like a job, it didn’t feel like a plain hobby he picked up years ago. It felt like Javi was supposed to be doing this, like this, holding a camera to his eye and taking pictures of the boy he met a year ago. His heart was thudding in his ears; the inside of his bottom lip was getting chewed raw.

“I’m just gonna,”Javi whispered, his voice barely audible over the music that was playing faintly in the background. “Tilt your head a little to the side so I can, um, so your neck more.”

His touch was light, the side of his pointer angling Zayn’s chin just slightly as it all hit him like a pound of bricks. People always ask what the reason behind your art is. They ask why you choose the themes you do, the settings, the backdrops, the props. Why do you do it? What makes it important? What drives it? What pieces it all together for you? Why do you make the art that you make?

And this was it. This is why he does it. Having those piercing eyes looking back whenever he turned the corner of the hallway. Having that feeling captured into a still frame so the stories can be told through generations to come. Having the ability to freeze time, even for half a second, and cherish it forever. This is why he did this form of art. And the boy in front of him was the reason it all made sense.

His finger was still settled against Zayn’s jaw when he leaned down to press their lips together. It was innocent, or as innocent as they could be. While their lips were slotting together easily, Javi held his camera out the best he could, hoping to catch them both in it. He swiped his tongue over the other’s gently, humming against Zayn’s lips before he pulled back with a smile cover his face.

“Thank you,” Javi breathed, his hand curling around to the side of the other’s neck. Their noses bumped, causing his grin to widen and a laugh bubble from his lips. He didn’t explain what he was thanking him for; he didn’t feel like it was necessary. It was simple, easy, just like it always had been.

Find his muse