#I got a new stylus and it has changed my life

[horsegirlsodapop]

some stevepop sketches

[artroidsart]

Now the original for THIS one is OLD!! I made that back in 2019!!!

It's surreal looking back at the original, seeing just how much my art has changed. I drew the old one back when I first got into Jackbox! That was over five years ago! That's… that's crazy! Party Pack 6 wasn't even a blink on the horizon yet! I just… I just had a feeling in my heart that TMP was special, ever since I first saw it. Even after all these years, I still love this series. A lot of people have come and gone, and a lot of things have changed in this fandom, but I'm amazed by how much love and talent is in this fandom.

Gosh, it's weird to say I'm feeling nostalgic over a horror trivia game, but it's true. Anyway, back to the remake here! Since this line is from the original Trivia Murder Party, I wanted to use a different outfit than the one I use for the sequel. (I made a different version of it for the ref sheet, but I wasn't happy with it. The colors didn't feel right. I like this one much better!) Just for the heck of it, I drew my human version of the Wrath doll. I haven't drawn the human dolls in a LONG while! I made a few small changed to this design, but nothing too crazy.

Also, I found out why I haven't felt inspired to make digital art lately! The new stylus I have works really well, but my shaky hands aren't steady. It make digital art a struggle for me. Thankfully, I found the solution! My laptop has a tablet mode, so I can pull it into my lap to work on art! It made using the stylus SO much easier!!! Now I won't be suffering through my digital work! (Hopefully, that means I can upload semi-regularly again!)

Wow, listen to me blabber on. Didn't mean for the description to go on THIS long. But hey, this piece makes me really happy. I hope you guys like it too. I can just FEEL how much I've improved, doing these remakes. If anyone else is feeling art-block, I'd highly recommend going back to old works and giving them new life! Thank you to everyone who has been with me on this journey, both old friends and new faces. You guys are the best. <3 <3 <3

The original, for reference:

[asherloki]

Intelligent and beautiful

Bbc Sherlock

A/n:- I was reading Sherlock Holmes when I figured out a stuff about the case I was reading and eventually I wasn't entirely wrong, so I thought what if Sherlock's life partner somehow comes out being intelligent, so much he never knew !

"so if this suspect Mr wood is innocent then is it true that Mrs wood knew who it was, who stole the diamond necklace of her mother in law?" I heard Sherlock saying this to John over phone. This case has been going on for 2-3 days now and he's got too many theories, as a result I'm spending my days listening to his theories, I don't mind though.

"Yes John I send you everything do check and call me" he said hanging up on him.

"Any update on it?" I finally asked not lifting my eyes from my tab and stylus.

"Yes 6, 6 theories till now Mrs Holmes" he replied.

His refering me as Mrs Holmes always makes me blush "oh is it?" Now I looked at him.

"Yes, what do you think Mrs Holmes?"

"Well, did you deduce I was thinking about this case?"

"Definitely, was easy as you clearly paid attention to every details of it and you played with your stylus not sketching, instead paying close attention to my discussion with John even though you knew I'd tell you right after I put my phone down." Saying this he took sketch I made on a loose sheet and admired it then put it inside a book "violin " he whispered.

"Just a doodle " I replied.

"Which is marvelous "

"So you kept it?"

"Yes, where it'll be safe, won't get lost, I can't loose it". He said then turned to me "so? Your theory?"

"Aha! I can't say it"

"Why not?"

"It's a very different one, and perhaps wrong"

"So? I've got 6, 5 will be wrong ofcourse"

"It's none of those"

"Still, say it".

"Listen honey, what if Mrs wood's brother have done it?"

"He's lost ain't he, Mrs wood looked for him everywhere ".

"What if he's inside their house? Planning this for 20 years?"

"What?"

"That gardener, you've seen their previous photos, did he aged? He had same white hair as he has now, same wrinkles and physic , I mean no change in 20 years? Doesn't fit does it?"

He listened, carefully, observed it, his eyes sparkle, the sparkle that's very familiar to a detective's wife.

"I'll be back in 4 hours" he said and sprinted to grab his coat.

"Don't be late, come before dinner"

"Yes " his voice drowned as he got down stairs and disappeared into the streets of London with a cab.

"4 and a half, late again" I said while placing plates on the table when out of no where I heard heavy footsteps approaching to our flat. And my man's arms wrapped me from behind.

"Honey, you scared me" I said and he picked me up in bridal style.

"Don't be, I'm just too happy".

"Oh must be good news then".

"Very good news, sometimes looking for too much outside information is not worth it, I forgot to notice the inside details."

"That means...."

"Your theory was correct Mrs Holmes".

Said he and we kissed.

"My goodness I can't believe it"

"Then do, you're extremely intelligent, I've got my match" he said. I blushed to this.

"You really think I'm intelligent? Not just a creative stupid woman in love with you".

"Yes I do believe you're intelligent, and you are, intelligent, beautiful, creative and my love".

"So tell me everything" saying this we sat at the dinner table getting ready for an exciting story.

[itsbowbi]

tagged by @penglue

Are you named after anyone?

A saint I think. Or my parents just liked the name and came up with that reason after.

When was the last time you cried?

I cry a lot I think I cried watching the new Godzilla movie because I'm easy and a sucker. Like CRIED cried? I think my birthday but it was actually a pretty great night.

Do you have kids?

Hell no.

What sports do you play?

None. Too busy and tired. Been thinking about finding a baseball league or something to play in because I miss it. I was a terrible hitter tho. I'm in better shape now and I learned about my fucked up eyeballs so maybe I'd be better.

Do you use sarcasm?

I don't think so. I have a very cynical sense of humor but sarcasm to me just comes off as being mean. Pretty sure I avoid it almost always.

What’s the first thing you notice about someone?

Looks? I mean literally first thing I notice is what they look like. And yeah I usually decide if I think they're hot right then but that doesn't change much about how I treat them. Otherwise just general vibes I guess. Sense of humor, manners, etc. Ooh I guess I really notice if someone is being at all superior or condescending. I fucking hate that immediately.

Eye colour?

Baby blues.

Scary movies or happy endings?

I like both, but I definitely watch horror movies more often. I think it's funny when movies get the super happy ending like Wayne's World, which seems to be happening more and more often in the movies I watch. I do think I've been avoiding dramas because they can be draining to watch and I don't feel like putting myself through that sitting here alone in my room. And bad horror movies are easily the best thing to watch with friends.

Any talents?

I'm very good at guessing people's middle name. Also I have insane memory when it comes to movies. You can name like one small detail about a movie you can't quite remember and I can probably name it. Good at trivia too.

Where were you born?

Bay Area. Zero memory of California since we left when I was a baby.

Hobbies?

Uuggghhh this is where I really start to feel like a nolife degen. Video games mostly. I'm decent at overwatch. Have a quitar but haven't had the energy or motivation to practice in a while. I really want to pick it up again. Just got an iPad with the stylus so that's been fun getting back into art. People say I can draw good so that's cool. Also I technically got my first commission since my buddy gave me $10 to recreate a doodle I made for him at work in a full piece because he loves it so much. Gotta get around to that soon.

Any pets?

My leopard gecko Heybaby! I love her. Also my mom has 2 cats that I still consider mine and I love visiting them. Yoyo and Mimi.

Height?

6'

Favourite school subject?

I guess history. I think history has better stories in it than any fiction so I love reading about it and listening to audiobooks and podcasts. Chose that as my major in college since I didn't know what to do with my life and it was the one subject I was able to tolerate. That was a very bad decision and I honestly should've never gone to college or just gone to a community college while I figured out what to actually do. Still waiting on that last part.

Dream job?

I really don't have a realistic one. I have hated every job I've ever had and any work that was assigned to me in school or therapy or whatever instantly made me hate it. I have crazy fantasies about what I could still do with my life but most of them involve doing little to no actual work. Like being a streamer. But I guess I'll go with what I would've said 20 years ago and say baseball player or rock star.

GET TAGGED @conkedcrete @spylarman (or don't sorry to bother u)

[trail-mx]

Today, I drew a picture.

Well, no — that’s not true. I drew the picture yesterday, but I made some edits to the picture today… so I suppose that counts.

I’ve been drawing a lot lately. Mostly art for this silly little series that has grown legs and keeps running away from me that I’ve been writing when I’m not drawing, but sometimes other things when the mood strikes. And it’s been good for me, I think, to be writing and drawing again; I certainly feel better for it.

But today/yesterday’s art was special because, for the first time, I felt like I had drawn something that teenage me would have admired; a picture that she would have saved on a flash-drive to stash in a desk drawer for safekeeping after making it her desktop picture.

I’ve drawn other things over the past year; objectively good things that the people in my life have loved and gushed over, but this was — is — different. This is different because, for the first time, I felt like an artist worth looking up to — worth admiring. The last few years have been… a challenge… and I lost myself along the way for a while. I was too focused on keeping one foot in front of the other; too focused on survival as everything around me found new and exciting ways to fall apart. I didn’t have the energy to devote to what I felt was a waste of my time — after all, if it wasn’t “good enough” from the get-go, what was the point?

But about a year ago, I was in crisis — actually, I had been in crisis for a while at that point — and knew that something had to give. It was simple: either I needed to find a way to wring even the smallest amount of joy out of this miserable existence or I was going to collapse in on myself and explode in such a way I might never recover from.

So, I downloaded an app that allowed me to draw on my phone, spent a few bucks to get myself a stylus to draw on said phone more precisely — and got to work.

I haven’t loved every picture I’ve drawn — actually, there’s a fair few that I’ve found myself asking, “Why did I spend hours working on this???” when all was said and done — but I try to find at least one thing about each picture I like. Maybe it’s the way I colored something or maybe it’s the way I was willing to try something new… even if that thing was the reason I’m frustrated with how it turned out — but I always end up liking something about it.

And that line of thinking changed everything — now I do it all the time. Bad social interaction? Well, at least it’s over now. Fucked up day at work? Well, I got more than I expected to accomplished — so that’s something. Took an absurdly long time to finally call the doctor to set up a badly needed appointment? Hey, the receptionist liked my joke about my last name and I’m already off the day they have available — no need to ask for time off.

My mom calls this type of thinking Positives in Everything and, until very recently, I was very bad at it. If you wanted someone to come up with the absolute most screwed up way for something to go, I was your guy; if there was an award for catastrophizing, I would have won it every year since I was old enough to consider the world beyond my own nose. I have a vivid memory of a minor earthquake rocking the classroom when I was in elementary school and my first thought was, “A volcano is going to appear in the middle of the playground and we’re going to die a fiery death” — and when I voiced this super logical conclusion based on the current state of the world according to 8-year old me to my teacher, she actually facepalmed. 

Unfortunately for everyone I’ve ever known and loved, I did not get better with age. 

But — just like drawing — the more you practice at it, the better you get.   

So, I drew a picture yesterday.

And tomorrow, maybe I’ll draw another one.

And I’m sure there will be something to like in both of them.

[faunswallin-blog]

I'd describe freedom as this, "No one telling you how to live your life". That has been my families motto for thousands of years. For generations upon generations, my family has lived life their own way in the one career that makes any kind of sense. We are truckers.

It was once said that in the beginning the first of our line would haul cattle across nation lines in a combustion engine truck. I don't know how hard that was I'd imagine it is exactly like it is today. In the past folks had dilapidated roads, today the vacuum of space has vailuum wakes. Before truckers had to connect to their trailers with air hoses and pig butts, today I use gravtronics and counter lines. Out in the darkness of space I am but one trucker of the billions of people occupying space.

Lights began to strobe as I sat in my copilot chair with my feet up on the control board. I was continually writing my thoughts down to avoid the boredom of being in transit. After a minute of strobe lights an alarm began to sound. Putting down my stylus and pad and placing them in the chairs storage pouch I pushed myself off the panel and hopped up. Sidestepping over to the pilots chair I hit a few buttons as I spoke to myself. "Geez Bertha it's just another vailuum pocket", I slid a black glove onto my right hand, I can feel the wires inlaid pressing against the front and back of my fingers. With a flit of a finger a screen popped up in front of me. A sensory camera outside of my ship put a picture of my nearby surroundings on my hull in front of me.

"The new starships have force field reinforced viewports. I get handed an extremely late model Mack DX. All hull and no way to look outside unless you turn on a camera."

Out in the quadrant of space in front of me I saw an utter minefield of gas pockets. My eyes knitted together as my hand waved and opened wider as I toggled more sensory, kinetic, and ultra-wave cameras to show on my hull. "This isn't supposed to be here Bertha, did you turn left at Albuquerque again?"

The family joke brought a wry smile to my lips. My parents told me about a rabbit from the ancient era that tunneled underground that constantly got lost and would attack hapless hunters. I think my folks called him Roger Rabbit. Anyway, my left hand quickly plotted a course through the minefield before me. As I shifted and changed angles on my cameras, I plotted a route through the thickest portion.

Finally after Bertha approved my calculations she began to pick up speed as my truck dipped, yawed, and maneuvered the quadrant before me. I stayed busy as Bertha flew, the minefield seemed unending. As I flew through it I began to see salvage from other ships and popsicles. People thrown into the vacuum without any protection on as they freeze up and look like icicles floating or rotating in place.

I tried not to look at them as I traveled past. " Where there is trash...yep there it is, my destination." I pointed my chin at the battle in front of me nodding to myself as my hands continued to plot a course.

I guess I should let you know as a trucker I am not very fast. My Mack isn't built for speed it's built for reliability. I have reinforced hulls what little shields I have are usually focused on covering my gravitronic couplers. If that goes then my next paycheck goes. My truck and hauler are about 5 earth American football fields long and a dozen meters wide. My top speed on a wide open space with no obstacles would be the equal to a troop transport for most militaries. Right now there is a battle and one side may not be too happy to see me bringing a haul into their enemies ship.

"Okay Bertha, we came this far let's go the extra distance and get through this." I motioned to open up the throttle. And like a river snake I began to weave my way through the destruction to my destination.

I kept one eye on the battle ahead of me trying to guess each sides tactics. Reading battlefields isn't hard if one side has more ships then another then it's logical they will push forward, so long as it was the ship I was going to that was winning I could slip right in.

Unfortunately, that wasn't the case today. I am headed toward a Universe Class military outpost. I don't usually take military contracts however the pay is excellent and Bertha has needs. Attacking them was a rebellion hodge podge of fighters and strapped together rust buckets. From the distance you wouldn't think the rebellion would stand a chance. Except they don't fight fair. Universe Class starships are in charge of logistics and military families. Sure they have firepower the quadrant is a testament to that. Unfortunately the rebellion fighters found the Achilles heel to any Universe Class ship. They put extra shielding over the bases personnel sectors. If you can hit that enough times the Universe Class will be forced to reroute power to protect its people making it more sluggish in response to attacks. Star fighters will be just as agile though orders are delayed to power fluctuations and the rebels have a toe hold.

I watched as I slipped from devastated ship to devastated ship using their massive blown out hulls to hide my slow bulk. The battle was brutal and if Bertha could make a bet I would put my money on the rebellion. But I want to get paid if I didn't deliver then I'd open myself up to all sorts of nastiness. So as any trucker would, I pushed up slowly and recklessly into the battle.

The rebellion fighters were black with splotches of white on their hulls as an effective Camouflage for long range cameras however the Universe Class fighters had their hulls white washed with colorful decals on their sides. I watched the white fighters and saw one fighter who seemed in control whose ship didn't wobble when flying straight. The wobbles comes from shaky hands on the flight stick. Pilot's adrenaline pumps and the brief moments between hails of projectiles some Pilot's shake their hands causing their ships to wobble.

I saw my ticket through the Battlefield. It was a whitewashed ship with a black top hat and two pink ears popping out of the bottom of the hat.

Every time this ship made a pass, I'd fly under him towards my destination. When the magic hat would finish an attack run, he would pull a tight looping barrel roll and jet back towards his carrier, then perform another loop and strafe another area. It was effective sniping, not engaging in a dogfight , but still allowing himself to cover his squadron.

It wasn't an easy approach for me the rebellion saw me first and they sent three fighters my direction.

I mentioned before thar I was slow, I forgot to add I am very agile. Bertha doesn't have a great top speed but I spent a good portion of my spare money on the highest level directional boosters. Attached at every 10 meters Bertha can dodge an astriod field of rock and metal with ease. As the fighters fired their projectiles Bertha rolled to the side boisting herself out of the line of fire as I plotted a course through a burnt out hull of a larger cargo hold floating dead in space.

Being small and long pays off. The fighters moving too fast refused to follow me and decided to wait for me to come out. Unfortunately for them they were in a battle and a sitting ship is a dead ship. When I finally extracted myself from the burnt out hull I saw three new dead fighters with holes in their viewport. If I decided to look closely enough I would be able to see droplets of frozen blood drip from openings.

But that is for rookies. I have a load to deliver. So I did my best to line up my approach based on magic hat was doing. After some strenuous maneuvers and a few too many close calls I managed to hail the UC Freeholt.

"Shipper ID Number" was the only response I got when I hailed her on the open channel.

"Graphite-Niner-Codex-Codex-Quiltex," I replied in my best calm voice. A stray projectile brightened up one of my sensors blinding me briefly. I would be nervous unfortunately I wasn't talking to a person yet, and the computer was analyzing my voice for stress markers.

Finally, a younger feminine voice replied "Welcome to the UC Freeholt. Please follow the lights to our receiving bay. You will exit you ship upon landing and place yourself in a confined area as we scan and unload your cargo hold. Is there anything you want to declare?"

I replied in the negative as I flew through the opened doors.

[not-xpr-art]

Art Advice #4 - A Beginner’s Guide to Digital Art

Hi all!

This weeks entry into my Art Advice tag, where I offer various advice for artists of any skill level, is about digital art! Now, I am by no means an expert at digital (I’ve been doing it for nearly 8 years at this point and that is almost entirely self taught), but I have picked up a few pointers in that time which will hopefully help anyone just starting out!

(this blogpost is a little over 2000 words long btw)

A Beginner’s Guide to Digital Art 

I know that the world of digital art has changed drastically in the 8 odd years since I started, but I’d still say that some of the options I started out with will be just as good for anyone who’s starting out now! 

As always, I’ll be splitting this into sections to make it easier for you to navigate this post!

Part 1 - Equipment/Hardware 

There are a lot of drawing tablet options on the market at the moment, and I’m not going to pretend that I know anything about half of them lol. But I think for a beginner, don’t worry about going for the most expensive option, even if the reviews are really good or your favourite artist uses it, especially if it is way above your budget! 

An important thing to know is that there are two types of tablet. One is the plug-in kind. These are essentially a pad which you plug into your laptop or computer and draw on that whilst looking at the screen (they basically work the same way as a plug in mouse works). The other kind is the screen variety, which is a lot more like what most of us know as ‘tablets’ nowadays. And you draw directly onto the screen. 

(a plug-in vs on screen tablet, both from Wacom)

Now, as for choosing between these, it is honestly a personal choice. But I’d say if you’re just wanting to try digital and you’re on a budget, a plug-in tablet can be really useful since it gets you used to the mechanics of what digital is like, and they are often significantly cheaper than the screen alternatives. I would say that plug-in tablets are a big learning curve, especially if you’re used to doing traditional stuff, but I do know a lot of professional artists who still use this kind of tablet when doing their work, so if it’s something you can get used to I would definitely consider it! Also, they’re often a lot more portable than some screen tablets! The first one I had was a Huion (a model so old that I can’t even find a link to it now lol), and I also know that Wacom are a well known brand that do some decent plug-in tablet. I’d recommend you do your own research on other brands and options, though!

Screen tablets are often a lot more expensive, but if you’re used to traditional art, they are a lot easier to get a handle of! But I know if you already have something like an iPad, or other general use tablets, then they offer apps that you can use to draw on (as well as things like the Apple pen, or other stylus’). The big difference between using these general tablets and ones specifically designed for drawing is pretty much purely a personal choice. I personally prefer the bigger screen of my XP-Pen tablet, along with a special screen protector that removes the shininess of the tablet screen and makes it feel more like ‘paper’ over when I used a general use tablet it draw. But if you already have an iPad, or something similar, then it’s honestly a really great starting point!

I think it’s important for me to mention that you don’t need fancy equipment to be an artist. The incredible Elicia Donze has revealed countless times how she has very basic equipment but still manages to produce the most stunning artworks! All you really need is some kind of drawing apparatus and a lot of patience lol! Getting good at any kind of art takes a lot of time and effort, but I would definitely say it’s worth it when you’re able to look back at your progress!

Part 2 - Software/Drawing Programs 

Much like with the hardware discussion, choosing which program to use is entirely down to personal preference. I personally have never really liked Photoshop purely because it’s really complicated, but I know so many artists swear by it. 

I think the main aspect to consider when you’re starting out is whether you want to pay for a program. Software like Photoshop, Clip Studio Paint and Procreate are some of the popular ones I hear about a lot of people using, but all require you to purchase or subscribe to them. So if you’re young or on a very tight budget, I’d honestly recommend the free alternative versions of these, such as Krita (Krita is quite a large program, but it has a lot of really awesome features and is very similar to Photoshop!), Gimp (this one is similar to Krita, but has slightly less options, I’d honestly recommend Gimp for anyone who does photo editing though!) or FireAlpaca (this is the one I use, by the way and it’s a pretty simple program, but has a lot of fantastic features and is perfect for how I work!). These don’t have as many features as some of the paid alternatives, but I honestly think all you really need to start digital art is some kind of ‘canvas’ and set of brushes!

Another great free program for beginners I’d recommend is MyPaint, which is great for doodling and just getting used to how digital art feels in comparison to traditional! It also has a bunch of ‘traditional style’ brushes, to make it look like charcoal or watercolour (which I’m sure the paid alternatives have too, but it’s always better when it’s free, I find lol...)

(this is an example of a drawing I did on MyPaint using the ‘charcoal’ effect brush!)

Most of the sites are pretty self explanatory, with sections dedicated to different brushes (I’ll go into the types of brushes later on in this post btw!), adjusting brush size, shape and opacity, a colour wheel, etc. You also have a section dedicated to ‘layers’ (another thing I’ll go into more detail later), and various ‘filters’ and editing options and effects you can add to your work to make it more interesting!

I’d really just recommend playing around with programs until you find your one!

Part 3 - The Pros of Digital Art!

I realise this section should probably earlier in this blog post lol, but I kinda wanted to go into what digital art can achieve in comparison to traditional art, and how beginner artists can utilise this!

I definitely didn’t take advantage of certain aspects of digital art when I first got into it, and they’re things that would have definitely made my life a whole lot easier lol!

Digital art allows you to tweak drawings as you do them. So if you accidentally drew the eye too far to the right, then you can easily move it to the right place. (I usually do this by selecting whichever area is wrong, cutting it out and then pasting it into a new area... And yes, there is probably a better and quick way of doing this but...I haven’t found that way yet lol...). And I honestly think that this has allowed me to look a lot more at a reference image in order to figure out where I’ve gone wrong with a drawing! Whereas with traditional art, I usually spend so long trying to get an eye right, that even if it’s slightly in the wrong place, I don’t want to completely redo that section. Digital allows you to completely rub out sections without leaving indents, which is honestly such a saving grace!

Another pro of digital is the Undo/Ctrl Z function! This means you can easily go back to before you made a major mistake with just a click of Ctrl Z... Though I have to say that this function has honestly ruined traditional art for me... Oh what wouldn’t I give for a real life Ctrl Z... But yeah, this is a great part of digital art and definitely something you will grow to love lol!

Another great thing about digital is that it allows you to flip and turn a canvas as you’re drawing on it. I spent a lot of time trying to turn my tablet around in order to draw certain parts of a piece before I realised you can turn the canvas itself without having to move yourself or your tablet!

Layers are another part of digital that can be super useful, and I have to be honest but I don’t really use them a lot. I know a lot of artists create layers for every section of their artworks (so, one for the linework, one for colouring, a separate one for the background, etc etc...). And there’s something really great about being able to paint without worrying about smudging into a previous section of the painting. This works well for my work since I do a lot of bright backgrounds. I also often create a lot of ‘versions’ of my works, so it’s useful to be able to change the background without affecting the main figure of the piece! (I have to say that I often work in one big layer when I’m doing paintings, just because I like how it feels more like ‘traditional’ art that way, but layers are such a brilliant tool, and definitely something you should play around with!)

The eyedropper tool is another one that is really useful! Although I never colour pick from my reference photos, I know some artists find this useful when they were just starting out (especially if you’re not sure what colour to make shadows or how to mix skin tones, etc etc). The eyedropper basically means you don’t need to mix your colours every time

Part 4 - Just some other things I wish I had known about when I was starting out lol...

This last section is just dedicated to a few things that I would have liked to have known when I was just starting out all those years ago. 

First one is fluffy/textured brushes! 

I spent most of my art life from 2013 until 2016 using ‘round’ brushes which are notoriously hard to blend with, so I’d recommend either downloading some fluffy/textured brushes (DeviantArt was where I got mine from a few years back, but there are probably other places you can get them for free too!) to your program of choice, since most of the programs I’ve used haven’t had fluffy/textured brushes as pre-set. 

I may make another post about how I blend in my artworks if that’s something people would be interested in?

(this is an example of textured brush blending vs round brush blending... I usually opt for round brushes for rougher blending styles and the textured brushes for more smooth and ‘realistic’ blending... for a lot of pieces, though, I use both brushes (the round brushes are good for details!) in the same way that you use different sized brushes for real paintings!)

The next thing I wish I’d discovered earlier is the Brush Stabiliser option. Some programs may do this automatically, but the one I use (FireAlpaca) requires you to manually change the amount of stabilising you have on your brush. This is particularly useful if you want to draw neat lines or straight lines (the stabiliser essentially slows down the ‘ink’ as you’re drawing). I only recently started using the stabiliser, and although I still like having it mostly turned ‘off’ for doing sketchy work, it does make doing line work a lot easier, and also gives pieces a more polished look!  

Next advice is to explore all the options you can in whatever program you use! 

I feel like with certain programs, you can get overwhelmed by choice and you end up just using a few of the functions. But I’d really recommend just playing around with these programs, trying all the filters and editing options to get used to how the program works. You can often find interesting ways to adjust your artworks this way! In a way I’d recommend this way of working more than finding tutorials made by other people... Unless there’s a specific function you want to learn how to do, just having fun with digital art is a major part of it’s appeal to me! 

~

There are probably a lot of other options I could go into, but this is already over 2000 words long, so I’ll leave it here for now lol! (I may do a part 2 though so... keep a look out for that!)

As always, if you have any questions to things I’ve said here, or are just looking for more advice, don’t hesitate to message me!

And if you like my work on here (art & blog posts) feel free to support me on my Ko-Fi! <3

[chevrolangels]

though the stars walk backward

#24: You’re my ex but I think I still have feelings for you, 4.1k

From this prompt list

For @princessjimmynovak​  This was requested approximately a million years ago and I finally finished it!! Happy belated birthday darling 💜

Feat. Space Ex-Boyfriends who are bad at talking to each other. So, canon. But in space. (Dean has always wanted to be an astronaut, lbr)

read on ao3

“New crop of cadets coming in today.”

“I know.”

Charlie bites into her apple, munching as she scans her screen.

“Hope they’re better than the last ones. Half of ‘em couldn’t tell the difference between a spectrometer and an ammeter.”

Castiel doesn’t comment. He’s too on edge to indulge Charlie today, so he just shrugs, swiveling his chair back in front of the control panel.

Everything’s on autopilot, like always, but he likes to check the nav-console by hand, every once in a while, if nothing but to prove his usefulness. Wouldn't do to have the computer shift a few degrees without anyone noticing and end up halfway to Alpha Centauri.

“I mean, what do they think we do up here? Run pretty tests for fun?” Charlie continues. “Like, one leak is the difference between life and death.”

Castiel makes a noncommittal noise and starts typing in the complicated sequence with his stylus, the starmap projected before him, their course pulsing with gentle blue light.

“I mean, they’re gone for all that time, least the Academy can do is make sure they’re prepared.”

Castiel bites his tongue, typing with perhaps a little more force than is necessary. He loves Charlie, but her ranting is really starting to get to him. Castiel might be the best pilot this side of the Pleiades, but hey. He’s only human.

“If they send me one more programmer who asks me how to do an abstraction, I’m going to―”

“Charlie, do you mind?” Castiel snaps. “I’m trying to concentrate here.”

He regrets it immediately. Charlie does go quiet, but makes a thoroughly overdramatic roll of her chair into Castiel’s eyeline. She raises an eyebrow.

“Somethin’ you wanna share with the class there, bud?”

Castiel exhales, rolling his shoulders.

“Sorry. I just...need to focus.”

“...Right.”

A decidedly sneaky look crosses her face, one that Castiel knows spells trouble.

She leans forward, propping her chin up on her hands.

“Is it because you gotta do the whole ‘Captain Thing’ later?” She asks. “Shake hands, greet the greets, that whole deal?”

Castiel acquiesces.

“Partly.”

He quickly finishes the rest of the code and enters it into the nav-console, sinking back in his seat. Charlie purses her lips.

“And I’m sure it has nothing to do with the fact that the teaching staff is coming back, huh.”

Castiel keeps his face carefully neutral, even as he feels the back of his neck grow hot. He fiddles with the stylus in his hands, turning it over and over again.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Uh-huh.”

Charlie taps her chin, looking thoughtful.

“What’s it been, two years?” She whistles, drawing it out. “Long time.”

Castiel just grunts. He should be getting up, to change into his uniform for the new batch of arrivals, but he makes no attempt to move.

“Dean’s coming back, too, right?”

Castiel snaps the stylus in half.

Charlie grins.

Castiel looks down at his hand, shoving the broken stylus into his pocket.

“If he is, I haven’t heard anything about it,” he says loftily. “And whether he does or not certainly doesn’t affect me.”

Charlie tilts her head.

“Didn’t they send the transfer roster last week?”

Castiel glares at her. She smirks back, giving him a cheeky wink.

Castiel abruptly pushes back from the console, standing.

“I have to go change,” he says shortly.

Once he gets to his quarters and the door slides closed behind him, Castiel sinks back against it, dropping his head in his hands.

Two years. Two years since Castiel chose to stay, and he chose to leave. Two years, of long lonely nights in front of the computer, of avoiding the Observation Deck, of throwing himself into his work. Two years in which Castiel thought he’d successfully ridded every last trace of Dean Winchester from his life.

After that night, Castiel had thrown away everything he’d ever given him. Every trinket, every gift, every scrap of paper―pathetic trophies of infatuation that Castiel had saved like a fool, pressed between the pages of his books.

The rest of the ship noticed, of course, because how could they not―Charlie, especially, had been particularly persistent in trying to get Castiel to tell her what happened. But Castiel resolutely refused to talk about him, and glowered sufficiently at any mention of his name that eventually people just learned to stop bringing him up.

But time marches ever onward, and the training cycle at the Academy is complete. The institution that Dean fled to in the first place is now spitting him back out, thrusting him back into Castiel’s life.

Castiel presses the heels of his hands to his eyes. How is he going to stand in front of nearly three hundred people and shake his hand? Just the mention of his name made Castiel want to throw something, bringing back all those memories Castiel tried so hard to forget. It may have been two years, but everything that made the man named Dean Winchester the best part of his life is still imprinted in Castiel’s memory, like a brand.

It’s times like this when Castiel wishes he could be like one of Charlie’s computers, erasing all information at the touch of a button. There would be no pain, no memories―like he had never existed in the first place.

Castiel exhales, looking down at his hands.

He’ll just have to make it quick. It really wouldn’t do for the captain to start a fistfight in front of the entire crew.

x

Roughly thirty minutes later, Castiel finds himself standing stiffly at the end of the receiving line of officers, the collar of his uncomfortable dress uniform cutting into his neck. Something must be off with the temperature regulators in the receiving deck, because he’s sweating, a few locks of hair slipping loose from his hat. He attempts to comb them back into place until Naomi hisses at him to stop fidgeting.

Charlie is beside him as Chief Engineering Officer. She cranes her neck above the crowd, looking at the small group that’s just disembarked from the transport ship.

“Showtime,” she says, adjusting her gloves.

Castiel closes his eyes briefly, breathing in. He can do this.

The new ones pass through first, freshly graduated, young and starry-eyed. Castiel can appreciate their eager enthusiasm. It’s important work they do here on the ship, and they need the best crew to make it possible. They shake his hand vigorously, hopefully interpreting his tight-lipped stare as stoic strength.

Then, the officers.

Hannah, who Castiel has always liked, gives him a warm smile and clasps his hands, telling him how much they missed him. Castiel agrees with the sentiment, but he can barely focus during their conversation, continually darting his eyes towards the end of the line.

The procession inches forward, painfully slow. Cain, Chief Military Strategist, is next, then Billie, and Linda Tran. Crowley, a truly despicable human being, but perhaps the most brilliant Flight Engineer Castiel’s ever worked with, passes with a slimy smile―and then, a face Castiel hasn’t seen in a long time.

“Captain Novak,” Sam says warmly, reaching out to shake his hand. “It’s been a while.”

Castiel smiles back, unable to help himself.

“It has,” he agrees, taking his hand. Despite whatever may have happened between him and his brother, Castiel always liked Sam. “I can’t tell you how much we’ve missed you during your absence.”

Sam nods, dropping Castiel’s hand.

“Believe me, we missed it here, too,” he says, smiling. “You never know how good you have it until you have to spend time way out in the boonies.”

Castiel chuckles. He remembers. The time at the Academy might be necessary, but it certainly couldn’t be called comfortable.

Sam turns, indicating the cadets behind them.

“We’ve got a good group for you here, Cas,” he says, dropping the nickname with easy familiarity. “I think you’ll be happy with them.”

“Good to hear,” Castiel replies. “I’m sure they benefited from having you as a teacher.”

Sam shrugs, ever modest.

Naomi clears her throat from behind them, not-so-subtly encouraging him to move it along. Sam smiles and gives Castiel a small little salute, moving away.

Castiel sighs, tugging at his collar. To his left, he hears a low chuckle.

“Still hate that uniform, huh?”

Castiel stiffens.

He’d know that voice anywhere.

He slowly lowers his hand, looking up into the face he tried two years to forget.

“Hey, Cas,” Dean says softly, smiling.

His eyes are bright, shining, like he wants to be here. Funny. Castiel seems to remember he went halfway across the star system just to get away from him.

He extends a hand, holding it out for Castiel to shake.

Castiel clears his throat, but doesn’t move.

“Dr. Winchester,” he replies stiffly. “Welcome back.”

Dean chuckles.

“Oh, right,” he says sheepishly. “I gotta call you ‘Captain Novak’, now, huh? Sorry.”

He looks up, that soft smile returning.

“Old habits, I guess,” he murmurs.

His hand is still extended, in the distance between them. Naomi must be practically foaming at the mouth at such a lack of decorum. Castiel couldn’t care less.

Dean looks exactly the same, perhaps a few more lines around his eyes, still that perfect shade of green. Dean's eyes always reminded Castiel of Earth.

Dean seems to be thinking along the same lines. He looks Castiel up and down, gaze lingering for a moment on the few locks of hair Castiel knows must still be stubbornly escaping from beneath the brim of his hat.

“You haven’t changed at all,” Dean continues. “Even after two years.”

“And three months, six days,” Castiel says coolly.

Dean’s smile fades a little.

“Right.”

He pulls back his hand, awkwardly picking at the edge of the hat in his hands.

Castiel’s heart is beating wildly, but he keeps his face still as stone. Dean shifts uncomfortably, then seems to make a decision.

He leans in, lowering his voice.

“Look, Cas, you know I always hated this formal junk,” he murmurs. “Can we talk later, maybe?”

He sounds so cavalier, so oblivious, and Castiel hates it.

“Catch up?” Dean asks. “Away from all these people?”

Castiel gives him his coldest stare.

“I don’t think so, Dr. Winchester,” he says sharply. “Running this ship is a full time job.”

Dean blinks, and he stares at him, looking like he’s just been slapped across the face. The monster of heartache and pain inside Castiel roars with a vicious triumph.

“I have enough on my plate as it is,” he continues dismissively. “I simply don’t have time to indulge every junior officer who wants to waste my time.”

He straightens, looking away disinterestedly.

“You’d do best to remember that.”

For a moment, Dean doesn’t speak, merely staring at Castiel, his mouth open in disbelief.

Then he remembers himself, and with a glance at Naomi, he stands up straight, placing his officer’s hat back on his head.

“Yeah,” Dean mutters, lowering his eyes. “Well.”

There’s an awkward cough from Charlie to his left. Castiel ignores her.

“It’s good to see you, again, Cas,” Dean murmurs. “Really.”

Somehow, he makes it sound genuine.

He exits the platform, quickly disappearing into the crowd.

Castiel watches Dean go an uneasy curl in his throat. The brief flare of vengeful satisfaction is already leeching away, leaving him feeling brittle and hollow.

Naomi is already busy shooing the officers into the reception hall, for the welcome banquet. Charlie finds Castiel’s arm and squeezes it, her eyes sympathetic.

“Cas?” She asks quietly. “You okay?”

Castiel clenches his jaw.

“Think I might have to get back to you on that."

x

Later, after the banquet, after three hours of restless tossing and turning, Castiel slowly gets up, not bothering with shoes.

Wandering the hallways used to be his favorite pastime. The quiet, the stillness. He still does it, on occasion, when he finds sleep isn’t easy in coming. The lights that try to mimic some semblance of a day and night cycle are dimmed low, the halls empty, most retired to their chambers.

Castiel makes his way up to the Observation Deck, taking a brief look around. There’s no one there, no one to spy on the captain of their ship, stealing away in the night for some much needed solitude. He walks the ramp to the very top part of the observatory, leaning his arms on the handrail. Castiel used to spend hours here. He would sit and watch the stars turn, feeling at once very small and very infinite. He sits now, staring out at the vast darkness before him. It’s utterly quiet, the electric hum of the ship the only sound in the gloom.

Unbidden, his thoughts turn to the last conversation he had here.

Castiel had just learned he had been chosen to be the next Captain, a highly selective process that he had stressed about for weeks. The first person he wanted to tell was Dean.

But Dean had come with news of his own.

A teaching job at the Academy. Highly prestigious, second probably only to Castiel’s role―but that meant―

“Two years,” Dean said to his hands, his voice flat. “That’s how long I’d be gone.”

Castiel felt his brief taste of happiness deflate like a suit after a spacewalk.

“Two years?” He echoed, his tongue thick in his mouth. Dean nodded mutely.

“That’s…”

Castiel bit his lip.

“Wow,” is all he managed.

“Yeah,” Dean muttered.

There was a long moment where neither of them spoke.

“So…”

Castiel hardly dared to say it.

“I’m guessing you knew that when you applied,” he said flatly.

Dean nodded mutely.

“Didn’t really account for you becoming the Captain,” he muttered.

Anger flared within Castiel.

“What, because you think I wouldn’t get it?”

“No!” Dean said immediately, looking up. “God, no, Cas, of course not. Why would you think that?”

“I’m thinking a lot of things right now,” Castiel shot back.

Dean shut his mouth angrily.

“I guess...I guess it’s just hitting me how long two years really is,” he said finally.

Castiel sucked in a breath, stunned.

“You’re not serious,” he whispered. Dean dragged a hand down his face, avoiding his eyes.

“I don’t know, Cas!” He said, voice rising in the quiet. “I mean...you’ll have your job, Cas, I'll have mine...who knows if you’ll have any time for me―”

“Oh, I won’t have time for you?” Castiel repeated scathingly. God, he should have known, it’s just like Dean―shove the blame off himself and project it onto Castiel instead of owning his feelings like an adult.

“Just say you don’t want to be with me and get it over with,” he snapped.

“Cas…” Dean started.

Castiel couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t believe this was happening.

Dean sighed, breath shaky.

“I―”

Castiel looked up.

He saw the look in Dean’s eyes and he didn’t let him finish. He didn’t let him break his heart.

He ran like a coward.

Castiel wipes angrily at his eyes, banishing the memory. He can’t change the past, so he might as well not dwell on it.

He looks up, at the wilderness of the stars. They shimmer gently against the blank expanse, his constant companions. Castiel can tell you the distance between Betelguese and Rigel, can calculate the time it would take to travel to Sirius and back, but he could never navigate his own life so surely.

If only humans could be as constant as the Heavens.

Behind him, the floor creaks softly. Castiel goes still.

“Hey, Cas,” Dean murmurs.

Castiel turns, glancing over his shoulder.

Dean is standing at the end of the platform, in his sleep pants and shirt. He looks so different out of his uniform. Softer. More like himself.

“Dean,” Castiel says, unable to stop the name from coming to his lips.

Dean responds with a bashful smile, one hand twisting nervously into the hem of his shirt.

“Figured I'd find you here."

He glances out at the stars, then back to Castiel.

“You mind if I join you?”

Castiel swallows, but looks away, saying nothing.

Dean seems to take that as permission, and sits, legs hanging over the edge of the deck, next to Castiel.

There once was a time when they’d sit close enough for their knees to knock, their hands lacing over the railing as Dean told stories, weaving grand tales of the constellations and their histories, while Castiel listened, enraptured.

Now the distance of that memory feels vast, lightyears away. They’re both quiet, not speaking a word. The silence is thin, fragile as glass.

“Cas―”

So Dean will be the one to break it.

He pauses, brow furrowing as he searches for words. Castiel bristles, waiting for it.

“Look,” Dean says, turning to face him. “I get it. You don’t want anything to do with me. But―”

“You’re right,” Castiel interrupts fiercely. “I don’t.”

Dean goes silent beside him. When Castiel finally musters the courage to look up, Dean is staring at him, hopeless and broken.

“Can you at least let me explain?” His voice comes out low and hoarse.

Castiel is torn. Half of him melts, seeing Dean so desperate. But the other half, the rational part of him that remembers the danger of falling for Dean Winchester cautions him, telling him the smartest thing he can do right now is walk away, and never open his heart again.

He lowers his head, exhaling heavily.

“I can’t,” he mutters. “Dean, I just…can’t.”

“You’re angry,” Dean says softly. Castiel scoffs.

“You’re damn right I'm angry,” he mutters. “And I don’t care about any half-assed apology you have for me, not now. Too little, too late.”

He moves back from the railing, pushing himself up. Tears are starting to come to his eyes, hot and bitter, and he’ll be damned if he’ll let Dean see him cry.

“Cas, wait―”

He reaches out, grabbing his hand.

Castiel freezes, rooted to the spot. Dean is frozen too, looking down at their joined hands. He doesn’t let go, though.

“Just...slow down, will ya?” Dean says, and there’s a hint of a laugh there, the way he always sounded when he would talk Castiel off the ledge. But now, it only ignites the rage inside him, and Castiel rips his arm from Dean’s grasp, whirling on him.

“No!” Castiel yells, shattering the silence. “You left, and you don’t get to do this now, you don’t get to come waltzing back into my life like everything’s fine―”

Dean’s eyes widen, he holds up his hands.

“Cas―”

“You broke up with me, remember?”

“No, I didn’t, Cas, will you shut up for two seconds and listen?”

Surprisingly, Castiel does. He blinks, slightly stunned at Dean’s words.

What is he talking about?

“Look,” Dean says quickly, probably to prevent Castiel from shouting again. “I only applied to the stupid Academy because Sammy was too―he was freaking out about the process, so I did it with him, just to show him it was nothing. He’s the smart one, so never in a million years did I think they’d choose me, too.”

Castiel crosses his arms, huffing under his breath. Even if he does hate him right now, it always hurts to hear Dean undersell himself.

“The moment I found out, all I wanted to do was talk to my best friend about how fucking scared I was.” Dean sighs. “And then you said you were picked to be Captain, and it all just...seemed too much.”

He looks down, twisting his hands.

“I panicked. God—somehow had it in my mind that the minute I told you you wouldn’t want to be with me, that there wouldn’t be any room in your life for me anymore. And seeing your face in that moment, you were so excited, and then it just slid off your face…"

Castiel remembers. Shit, he had been so happy, so proud—and when Dean told him…

He’d never been good at hiding his feelings, not with Dean.

He turns over their last conversation in his mind and all at once it seems to click, now that he knows what Dean must have thought.

“I jumped to conclusions,” Dean admits quietly. “I was...so afraid you wouldn’t want to do the long distance thing for two years so I….kind of...let you break us up before I could.”

Castiel stares at him, a painful bubble of emotion rising in his throat. Oh.

Dean continues.

“If anything, I wanted you to ask me to stay.” He lowers his head, dragging a hand through his short hair. “Which was wrong. I get that now.”

He looks up, huffing out a feeble laugh.

“Believe me, Cas,” he says lowly. “It took me all of about an hour to realize how badly I fucked up. But by that time the solar flares were surging and we had to go.”

Dean bites at his lip.

“I looked for you. I tried. But you had locked yourself away in a meeting and I didn’t get to say goodbye. You didn’t let me,” he finishes, a sad bitter note in his voice.

Castiel cannot speak, in shock. He never knew. He’d always thought...after that conversation, that Dean had left without so much as a glance back.

“You…”

He eventually trails off. He has no words.

Dean takes a tentative step forward.

“And you know what it’s like out there. The distances are too far, so they restrict communication.” He shrugs, a slight smirk tugging at his lips. “Doesn’t mean I didn’t try, though.”

“What?” Castiel asks.

“I tried to send transmissions back,” Dean says, rushing out the words. “Every day for a month. They kept telling me personal messages weren’t allowed. I even tried to break into the control center after hours.”

“Dean,” Castiel breathes, awed and horrified all at once. “You didn’t.”

Dean chuckles.

“Nearly got myself tossed out of the airlock for that one.”

His teeth return to his lip again, his green eyes hesitant.

“Sam said I was crazy. I just told him he’d never been in love.”

Castiel's throat goes dry.

They’d never said, not even before Dean left. But Castiel knew he was. Only love leaves that big and jagged of a hole.

“That’s why,” he says softly. “Why I never heard from you the whole two years.”

“And three months, and six days,” Dean says quietly.

Castiel bites his lip.

“Yeah,” Dean says softly. “I was counting, too.”

He sighs, spreading his hands.

“So, yeah. I messed up. And I get it if you never want to talk to me again, I just―”

Dean never finishes his speech because he doesn't need to. In three swift steps, Castiel has reached him and pulled him in by the front of his shirt.

Dean makes a soft noise of surprise as Castiel presses their lips together, but he quickly gets on board, pulling Castiel in by his waist, kissing him back. And he no longer needs to dream about Dean’s warmth, his lips underneath his, the dry rough touch of his palm coming to cup Castiel’s cheek. He’s here, and he’s real, and he’s never going to let him get away again.

Dean pulls back slightly, pressing his forehead against Castiel’s

“Damn,” he breathes. “I missed that.”

Castiel tightens his grip.

“Dean, I’m so sorry,” he whispers.

“Yeah,” Dean chuckles. “So am I.”

He licks his lips, looking down at Castiel’s.

“I was an idiot,” he murmurs, and the sound rumbles through his chest. Castiel shivers.

“I should have just told you,” Dean finishes, shaking his head slightly.

“Yes,” Castiel says, bumping their noses together. “You should have.”

Dean laughs, and it’s possibly the most beautiful sound Castiel’s ever heard.

“There’s the asshole I remember.”

They both grin, just basking in their closeness, breathing quietly.

“So.”

“So.”

Castiel clears his throat.

“So, this whole time, we wanted to be with each other and we just...weren’t.”

Dean chuckles.

“Sounds like it.”

“Wow.”

Castiel shakes his head.

“We’re a couple of dumbasses.”

Dean laughs again.

“Sums up the last fifteen years of us knowing each other.” He reaches out tentatively, fingers brushing Castiel’s. “Don’t you think?”

Castiel smiles, turning his hand up so Dean can thread their fingers together. He knows they so much they still have to say, so much to catch up on to fix everything that’s broken between them.

By a backdrop of stars, Dean kisses him once more, and well, that’s as good a start as any.

[d3-iseefire]

Little Swan Lost Chapter 37

So, all things considered, the examination wasn’t as bad as Bilba had feared it would be. 

Granted, it wasn’t fun by any stretch, but she supposed she should count her blessings where she could find them, right? 

Dr. Belarius smiled at her from where she sat at a desk making notes on a tablet. “It’ll take some time to get all the results back but--” here she paused as she got distracted writing notes with a stylus. It was a few seconds before she looked back up again. “There’s nothing I can see that would prevent you from having a successful pregnancy and, given the family history you provided, I don’t expect to find anything.”

Bilba hadn’t thought she would but, even so, the words brought a rush of disappointment. There had been a hope, a small one to be sure, but a hope nonetheless that this could be her ticket out. Thorin would happily put her on a plane to Gondor if it meant he could get back with Kyra, and Bilba knew Arwen would welcome her with open arms.

It had been a nice dream, even if it had only lasted a short time.

“Thank you,” she said quietly. A low churning started in her stomach as her mind automatically began spinning out possible consequences of the news. There was no doubt in her mind that, with test results in hand, the king would confront Thorin in some way, shape, or form.

And then what? She didn’t know what sort of relationship Thorin had with his father. Would he bow to his commands? She didn’t believe Thorin would force her to do anything, he hadn’t laid a hand on her in a month and she doubted he would suddenly start, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t pressure her and make her life generally miserable.

More miserable. All things considered; she could admit her life wasn’t that bad at the moment. Stressful, yes, and she had to deal with the massive amounts of hate being sent her way, and then watching her husband fawn over his ex but, even so, it wasn’t terrible. Cerys had been nice to her, and Ori even if she might have ulterior motives, and no one had physically harmed her so…not entirely miserable.

If Thorin started pressuring her for…things, however, because his father was pressuring him, that assessment could soon change.

“Your Highness?” Dr. Belarius’ voice broke through her musings and Bilba started in surprise. “Was there anything else? I’m happy to answer any questions you might have.”

“No,” she answered. “Thank you. You made the whole thing go a lot easier.”

That was certainly the truth. Dr. Belarius had taken time to explain everything she was doing, and why, and had taken steps to ensure that Bilba was as comfortable as she could be during the entire thing. It had still been embarrassing, and more invasive than Bilba would have liked but she was grateful the spymaster had sent for a female doctor.

Now if she could just figure out what he hoped to gain from such kindness…

She left the exam room and found the main area empty but for Cerys who was seated at a table with a tablet of her own. She looked up as Bilba entered, smiled and got to her feet. “Your Highness. How did it go?”

“All right.” Bilba headed for the exit, wanting to be done with the whole thing, only to draw up short as the doors slid open to reveal two guards on the other side.

“Your Highness,” one of them said. “The king sent us to escort you back once you were done.”

Bilba tensed, but had no time to respond as Cerys was suddenly standing there. “Great,” she said, her voice a little cheerier than was entirely natural. “I’ll see to it she gets back.”

One of the guards shifted uneasily. “I’m sorry, ma’am. We were told—”

“That she should be escorted back.” The cheer was gone, and Cerys’ voice now held an ice that was borderline terrifying. “Is there a reason why you’d insist on escorting her over her personal guard?”

“That is an excellent question,” a new voice broke in, as Gareth rounded the corner. He raised an eyebrow at the two men. “You’re dismissed.”

One of the men started to speak again, only to snap his mouth shut as Gareth and Cerys took up position on either side of Bilba and projected an aura that practically begged the two men to challenge them.

The two guards exchanged concerned looks and then, without further comment, turned on their heels and left.

“You know,” Cerys said mildly as they vanished around a corner. “I had that covered.”

“I know you did, Sweetheart,” Gareth agreed genially. “It’s just fun to freak them out.”

“Well,” Cerys said dryly, “as long as you were having fun.”

She sent a thousand-watt smile at him, and Bilba bit back a smile of her own, even as a wave of nostalgia washed over her. Her relationship with Bofur had been like that once upon a time. Now she had a husband who spent all his time mooning over his ex and barely acknowledging his wife even existed.

The two stayed in their positions on either side of her as they started down the corridor. Cerys made a few notations on her tablet and then held it out toward Bilba. “Your Highness. I’m ready to finalize your security team. I thought you might like to look at it before I do.”

“Oh.” Bilba took the tablet and looked down to see a grid on the screen filled with names and photos. “I don’t know. I--”

Her voice trailed off and her steps slowed to a stop. Her eyes tracked over the photos once, and then again. Sixteen. There were sixteen photos, and every one of them was a woman.

“They’ll operate in rotating groups of two in the palace,” Cerys was saying, “and four or larger outside, as the situation warrants. Gareth and I will oversee and join the rotations. Is that all right?”

Bilba nodded, not trusting herself to speak. It wasn’t just that her team was all female, it was that Cerys had clearly noticed how uncomfortable she was around male guards, and then intentionally set up a team designed to make her feel at ease.

She couldn’t remember the last time anyone had considered her wishes, or noticed she had any to begin with.

“This is fine,” she said, voice shaky. She handed the tablet back, and let out a breath, trying to rein in her emotions. She didn’t want to give the king the satisfaction of seeing her with red rimmed eyes, no matter the cause.

As they neared the king’s office, Bilba spotted Ori leaning against the wall. From inside the office, she could hear a loud voice raised in anger. The king’s guards, posted outside, were shifting uncomfortably and clearly wishing they were anywhere but there. A second pair of guards leaned casually against the wall across from them, looking bored.

All four straightened as Bilba approached, which was probably one of the first signs of respect she’d gotten from any guard outside of Gareth and Cerys, and it was probably due to their presence that she got it at all.

“Hey Bilba!” Ori bounded over and hugged her. “Are you doing all right?”

Bilba nodded, eyes flickering toward the door, where the raised voice was still going strong. It was a female voice, and not one she’d heard before. “What’s going on?”

Ori gave a mock guilty look. “I may have tattled.”

Bilba’s eyes widened. “Tattled? About what? To whom?”

“You’ll see!” Ori said brightly. She darted to the door and, before Bilba could say anything, knocked on it sharply. Inside, the raised voice cut off.

“We’ll wait out here for you, Your Highness,” Cerys said as she and Gareth took up position next to the two bored looking guards. Ori joined them as one of the men standing next to the door opened it and announced Bilba’s presence.

Bilba’s nerves immediately went on high alert and her stomach, which had calmed somewhat, began to churn once again. She clasped her hands in front of her, tried to convince herself she wasn’t walking into the lion’s den when she most definitely was, and entered the room.

The first thing she saw was Thrain seated behind his desk, arms crossed, and a look that could only be called petulant on his face.

On the other side of the desk, back toward Bilba, was a tall, statuesque woman with dark hair piled in an elaborate, braided style with what looked like diamonds threaded through. She wore black, flared leggings with a lace overlay and a silver, short sleeved, cold shoulder top.

As the door shut, the woman whirled around, revealing a set of ice blue eyes that made Bilba immediately think of Thorin.

Which meant this was most likely Dis, his sister.

Bilba didn’t know all that much about her other than she was the mother of the two spider seeking boys, and her husband had gone missing shortly after Erebor was retaken. Past that, Dis rarely gave interviews and, when she did, simply ignored personal questions as if they hadn’t been asked.

“Ah,” Dis announced, her voice a little too bright. “There you are. I believe my father has something to say to you.”

She whirled back to her father who glared at her with a mulish expression. A stare down commenced which lasted an uncomfortably long time, before Thrain finally grumbled under his breath and spoke, all the while keeping his eyes on his daughter. “I won’t apologize for ensuring the future of my bloodline.” Dis made a low growling sound, and Thrain scowled at her. “However, that being said--” He shifted in his chair, making the wood creak alarmingly. “I could have gone about it better.”

His eyes finally shifted to meet Bilba’s, as if daring her to do…something.

Bilba, in turn, could only stare back at him in confusion. Was that an apology? She was fairly sure it was an apology. Was she…was she supposed to accept it? Would it seem patronizing if she did? If she didn’t, would he take it as an insult?

She clenched her hands tighter and tried to ignore how hard her heart was beating. She swallowed. “I’m sure you’ll be happy to know the doctor found nothing wrong, Your Majesty.” She opened her mouth to speak again, shut it and then, without thinking, shot a pleading look at Dis.

“There,” Dis said, churlishly. “You see? Now you can relax and get it through your head that she’s barely been here a month! She could have been pregnant, and probably wouldn’t have started to suspect for another month.”

Thrain’s eyes narrowed. “Did the doctor check for a pregnancy?”

“She did,” Bilba said quickly. “I’m not.”

Obviously. Cold washed over her at the thought of them finding out that she and Thorin hadn’t consummated. She didn’t want to imagine how the king would react to that.

“Great, questions answered.” Dis stalked over, grabbed Bilba by the hand and pulled her toward the door. “We’ll be leaving now.”

“I will see you for dinner,” Thrain called out. “And all family meals from now on, I presume?”

His tone of voice suggested he was not presuming but ordering. Bilba stumbled to a stop. “I –” she stammered. “I don’t – I just – it’d be awkward…wouldn’t it?”

“Awkward?” Thrain repeated, voice sharp. “In what way?”

“Well--” Crap, if only her mind would stop racing and she could take a second to think, and process what was happening. Everything was just moving so fast. “With Kyra,” she managed to get out. “With both of us there--”

She cut off, unsure of what else to say, and far too terrified to try. Kyra was the family favorite. The childhood friend and maligned ex-fiancée. Bilba was just the interloper. Thrain’s eyebrows drew together and Bilba tensed, prepared to withstand a tongue lashing for daring to say anything against Erebor’s apparent darling.

Thrain slapped a button on his desk, the same one he’d used to summon the guards to take her to the medical center. “Have Ambassador Lundair sent to me at once.”

Oh, Yavanna, Bilba thought, this was so much worse. She’d thought he would just berate her, not summon Kyra. Did he plan to berate her in front of the other woman? Or have Kyra do it? Almost frantic, she looked at Dis, but the other woman was studying her father with a blank expression.

Without warning, she resumed pulling Bilba toward the door. “Let’s go. We don’t need to be here for this.”

Bilba hesitated, but the other woman was ridiculously strong, and easily drew her out into the hallway. As she did, Cerys, Gareth, Ori and the two guards that Bilba assumed belonged to Dis’ detail pushed away from the wall.

“Well?” Ori asked, stepping forward. “How did it go?”

“Fine,” Dis said, voice flat. She frowned back at the door in concern.

“I’m sorry,” Bilba blurted. “I didn’t think--”

“You’re fine.” Dis frowned at her. “You’re a tiny thing, aren’t you?”

Bilba blinked in surprise. “Only in comparison to Ereboreans,” she said without thinking. Granted, Ori was small as well, but she seemed to be the exception, not the rule. Even Dis towered over her, with an intimidating aura that, to this point, Bilba had thought only Thorin and his father possessed. Apparently, it was simply a Durin family trait.

“What’s wrong?” Ori asked, as Dis glanced back toward the door again.

Dis started to answer, only to stop as Kyra appeared from around the corner. The woman’s steps slowed as she caught sight of the veritable crowd in the hall, and a wary look entered her eyes. Bilba focused on the floor and tried to shift her balance so that Gareth blocked her view from the other woman. She was flat out of energy for confrontations for the day, possibly the entire week.

“What’s going on?” Kyra asked as she drew nearer. “The king said he wanted to speak to me.”

“He does.” Dis hesitated. “Do you want me to go in with you?”

Kyra frowned, and then shook her head. “No, that’s quite all right. I’m quite capable of speaking to the king on my own.”

The words were innocuous enough, but Bilba strongly suspected they were directed straight at her. A part of her, a long dormant part, bristled but the rest of her tamped the emotion down. Kyra was hurting, she reminded herself firmly. Hurting, and had all Erebor firmly on her side.

The woman vanished inside the room, and Ori addressed Dis. “What’s that about?”

“Something long overdue, I think,” Dis said slowly. “It won’t be pretty, but it’s necessary. She needs to move on.” She clapped her hands. “And we should too. I don’t think she’d appreciate us being here when she comes out.” She addressed Ori. “You mentioned Bilba needs a new wardrobe, right?”

Ori nodded happily. “Hers is way too small, and it’s not right for the weather. She’ll freeze to death on her first outing.”

Bilba considered telling them she’d already been on her first outing, but then remembered how it had turned out and mentally conceded the point.

“Great.” Dis whirled to face her. “Off to see Dori then, and then the mall to see how much of my brother’s personal finances we can blow through in a single afternoon.”

Bilba’s eyes widened and her mouth gaped. Dis linked her arm around Bilba’s on one side, while Ori repeated the process on the other. “I don’t--” Bilba managed to get out as the women pulled her down the hall, guards in tow behind. “I don’t know if Thorin will like--”

“Thorin will be fine,” Dis said airily, waving the words off with a hand. “And, if he has a problem with it,” here she paused to grin at Bilba. “You just tell him it was my idea.”

Bilba sighed, and gave up. It was clear that Dis and Ori fed off one another and there was no stopping them once they were together and united on an idea.

She did, however, make a mental note to tell Thorin exactly what Dis had said, that all monetary expenses had been his sister’s idea.

Maybe it would lessen how angry he’d be at her after learning she’d gotten Kyra dragged into the king’s office for some reason or another.

One could hope.

***

Kyra stood quietly in front of her bedroom window; eyes fixed on nothing outside.

She couldn’t say how long she’d been there or, even, technically, how she’d gotten back to her rooms. She had little memory past that moment in the king’s office, now branded into her memory.

“From this point on, you will take your meals elsewhere.”

Krya swallowed, her throat dry, and ground her teeth together against a new flood of tears. She’d already cried herself sick, and that had happened only after the anger had been spent. She knew that were she to turn around, it would be to a destroyed room. Every picture torn from the wall, every piece of furniture broken or damaged, the television shattered in pieces on the ground.

“Eating at the royal table is reserved for immediate family.”

The words had cut deep, confirming what she’d already suspected.

She wasn’t considered family, and never had been. Family wouldn’t abandon her the way they had, left her to struggle through her misery and pain on her own. Family wouldn’t have taken the side of the interloper, elevating her to everything that should have been, had been hers.

Family didn’t stand in a hall, gathered around the intruder like a shield she didn’t need, while Kyra was forced to beard the lion in his den, utterly alone.

“Continuing to allow you to dine with us suggests favoritism amongst my ambassadors. It would be…inappropriate.”

Funny, how it had never been inappropriate before.

It was all lies. She wasn’t stupid. She knew what had happened. It was that woman. Kyra knew she should never had stood for the little brat trying to put her in her place on the stairs. The princess had gotten herself a taste of what it felt like to belittle her betters and had promptly decided to do it again.

The memory of the rush of sympathy she’d felt seeing the witch in the ballroom swept over her and Kyra felt physically sick. She’d almost fallen for it. Almost bought into the poor little me act the imp put on when she wanted to manipulate those around her. For all Kyra knew, she’d probably set up the entire thing, known Thorin would be there and she could play on his male ego and desire to protect others.

Well, anyone other than his fiancé that was.

Kyra inhaled sharply and reached up to aggressively scrub at her eyes. The little tramp had them all bewitched, even Thorin, and wasn’t that a disappointment? She’d always thought of him as untouchable, larger than life, and a consummate leader.

Now it turned out he was just as frail as her father had been when he’d been taken in and fooled by that harpy after her mother had died. Kyra’s fingers curled into fists and heat flooded her face. She’d had no power over that, but that didn’t mean she had no power now.

She jerked around and stalked to her untouched computer, shoes crunching across broken glass and bits of plastic. She pulled up the messenger and sneered at the last messages she’d sent, when she’d balked at meeting Gandalf, and instead suggested a more careful, measured approach to fixing what had gone wrong.

It was clear now just how naïve and misguided she’d been. She’d been willing to play nice, and all the while that woman had been putting on the innocent little princess act. Winning over her family, and her friends, and all while she stumbled about in the dark, looking for fair and just ways to restore her life.

Gandalf had claimed he had something to show her, was concerned the Shire princess was a threat of some mankind. He’d suggested there was a reason behind why Shire had been so aggressive about getting rid of her.  

Kyra typed a quick message and hit send. The message bubble popped up, glowing words shining off the screen.

I’ve changed my mind. I’m ready to meet.

The response was quick, and Kyra felt a surge of gratitude that at least someone prioritized her.

Excellent. I have much to tell you.

Kyra smiled. Time to find out who the Princess of Shire really was.

Perhaps then Thorin’s eyes would finally be opened, and he’d see the little tart for what she was.

When that day came Kyra expected an apology.

A long one.

Follow on AO3: Follow on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1743620/chapters/3723188

[howtosingit]

Fic: I Wanna Be Somebody to Someone (Someone to You)

“Is that heart for someone special?” a voice teases in his ear, and Carlos immediately straightens, his face on fire. In his rush, his stylus cuts through the liquid, splashing coffee onto the counter and effectively ruining his work.

“N-no,” Carlos stutters out nervously, reaching for the towel next to him to clean up his mess. “I was just practicing,” he continues, his voice thin as his flush deepens, a heat crawling up the back of his neck.

A soft laugh next to him pulls his attention towards Grace, his assistant manager, standing at his side, her face even with his shoulder as she smiles up at him. “You’ve been practicing hearts for months, Carlos,” she says, her eyes bright as she points down at the cup in front of them. “I think you’ve got the hang of it by now.” 

*

A High School/Coffee Shop AU.

19.5K | Also posted on AO3 (in 4 easier-to-read chapters)

🎁 For @bellakitse 🎁

A/N: So, I already dipped my toes into the High School/Coffee Shop AU world during 30 Days of Tarlos, but that was just a short little thing, and I knew that I wanted to revisit the combination again at some point. Besides, a little birdie told me that High School AUs and Coffee Shop AUs were her favorites, so there was no other gift that I wanted to give her on her birthday than her two favorite tropes featuring our two favorite boys. 

Stef, you are a wonder to this fandom. Your constant kindness and support mean the world, as does your abundant positivity. You have given us some of the most delightful, touching, beautiful fics to get lost in, featuring the absolute best original characters, all while keeping our boys true to who they are and showing how deeply they love one another. Every time that I sit down to write, I do so with the hope that I can create just a small fraction of what you have given us with all of your work. I love you dearly, and I am so very proud to call you my friend.

Happy Birthday, Punk! ❤️

☕☕☕☕

Carlos focuses on the latte in front of him, his brow furrowed as he pulls his bottom lip between his teeth, gently gliding his stylus through the white foam to shape his design. He can hear the soft hum of the coffee shop around him, the late-afternoon crowd deep in conversation at their various tables. He bends at the waist to press his elbows to the counter, bringing his face closer to his canvas to watch as the mental image in his mind begins to form inside the cup in front of him.

“Is that heart for someone special?” a voice teases in his ear, and Carlos immediately straightens, his face on fire. In his rush, his stylus cuts through the liquid, splashing coffee onto the counter and effectively ruining his work.

“N-no,” Carlos stutters out nervously, reaching for the towel next to him to clean up his mess. “I was just practicing,” he continues, his voice thin as his flush deepens, a heat crawling up the back of his neck.

A soft laugh next to him pulls his attention towards Grace, his best friend and assistant manager, standing at his side, her face even with his shoulder as she smiles up at him. “You’ve been practicing hearts for months, Carlos,” she says, her eyes bright as she points down at the cup in front of them. “I think you’ve got the hang of it by now.” 

Carlos doesn’t answer her, his pounding heart pushing up into his throat. Grace, proving that she knows him pretty well after all their time working together, must sense his mounting terror; her face softens as she brings a hand up to grip his shoulder gently. “You can only practice so much before your own heart forces you to act,” she says soothingly. “Once it knows what it wants, there’s no stopping it forever.”

Before Carlos can respond, there’s a rap of knuckles on the counter. He jumps, looking up to find Grace’s boyfriend, Judd, suddenly standing before them, a slight smirk on his face.

“Reyes, she feeding you my lines again?” he jokes, turning to grin at his girlfriend. Carlos looks over in time to spot Grace’s arched eyebrows rise to her forehead.

“What do you mean by ‘your lines,’ cowboy?” she fires back at him, crossing her hands in front of her chest. Carlos can’t help the small grin that takes over his face as he looks between the two of them, his own concerns momentarily forgotten as he watches them banter back and forth.

“Oh, don’t play that game with me, Grace,” Judd scoffs, shaking his head. “You know that I told you ‘the heart wants what it wants’ the very first time I met you.”

“Judson Ryder,” Grace starts, moving closer to the counter as she zeroes in on the man standing on the other side, “don’t stand there and act like you were the first person to ever come up with that line, people have been using that cliché since well before you were born.”

There’s a moment where they just stare at one another, a slight tension in the air, before Judd breaks it with a sheepish laugh. “Alright, alright,” he says, closing the distance between them to press a short kiss to Grace’s lips. “Still, it worked on you though, right?”

Grace just smiles, moving her hand to cover Judd’s resting on the counter. “That’s right,” she confirms. “There’s nothing wrong with using a cliché when the time is right, which is why I don’t mind throwing it in Carlos’s face now.” 

Carlos starts at the mention of his name as both Grace and Judd look towards him. He’d been so wrapped up in their flirting that he had forgotten that this entire ridiculous conversation started with him. He can feel his face burning again as he gapes at them, no idea how to respond. 

The bell on the door rings behind him, signaling a new customer, and Grace moves around him to take their order, patting his arm in support as she goes. Carlos’s heart thumps annoyingly in his chest, and he ducks his head to avoid Judd’s eyes, hoping the other man will just let the conversation end. With a small cough, it becomes clear that his friend has no intention of doing that at all.

“She’s right, you know,” Judd says quietly, giving him a supportive look. “Your feelings will eat you alive if you don’t let them out.”

Carlos stares down at the latte before him, the foam nearly gone now that it’s cold. He thinks about the heart that he was working on, and the hundreds that he’s made before. It makes him feel pathetic, this stupid never-ending crush of his, and with a groan he grabs the cup and moves towards the sink to dump out the coffee.

“Hey, Reyes, talk to me,” Judd encourages, and Carlos looks up to see that he’s shifted to lean over the taller bar, closer now. “You know I’ll tell it to you straight.”

Carlos does know that. He’s known Grace and Judd for almost two years, ever since his first day working at Carolina's Café. Back then, they were all high school students, working together most afternoons and evenings. Now, Judd is finishing up his fire academy training and Grace is taking college courses, while Carlos slogs through his senior year; he had been worried that their friendship would change once the two of them graduated, but even with Grace being promoted to assistant manager, nothing between them has shifted. They’re still Carlos’s best friends, and he loves both of them like they’re family, which is why he knows he’s going to give in to Judd’s nudging. 

With a sigh, Carlos reaches up to rub his forehead, feeling overwhelmed by this unexpected deep dive into his feelings. “I feel like such an idiot,” he admits, his voice small. 

There’s a silence after his confession, and Carlos avoids looking at his friend until he can’t bear it any longer. Judd stares back at him, his brows furrowed in concern. “Yeah,” he finally says, nodding his head a bit, “love will do that to you, brother.

“You don’t think I felt like a big dumbass every single time I thought about asking Grace out?” he asks, his eyes shifting over to where Carlos knows Grace is standing behind him at the register. “I felt like I was going to go crazy for months,” Judd continues, turning back to him with a sympathetic look. “Love has this way of making you feel really small when you’re in it alone.”

Carlos crosses his arms over his chest, trying not to react at the idea that he might be in love with someone that he can’t even ask out on a date. “But, when you’re in it with someone else,” Judd finishes, reaching over to grip Carlos’s shoulder, making sure he’s completely focused on him, “love makes you feel like you’re bigger than everything.”

He can feel his heart swell at that thought; it’s the one thing he wants so desperately. For a long time, while struggling to figure out who he was and what he wanted, Carlos didn’t think he would get a chance to have that kind of love, at least not until he was much older. He still remembers the day that he felt those odds shift; it was the same day that a new transfer student from New York barged into his life and turned his entire world upside down with just a flash of his green eyes and bright smile.

“Judd, you’re gonna be late,” Grace says, appearing at his side and pulling Carlos from one of his favorite memories. She hands her boyfriend a wrapped sandwich and a cup of coffee before leaning up to press a kiss to his lips. Judd quickly waves goodbye as he moves towards the door, off to his overnight shift. “He’s right you know,” Grace continues, nudging him gently until he looks down at her. “Bigger than the whole world,” she clarifies, giving him a small smile.

Carlos sighs again, his mind racing at the idea of feeling something so real and powerful. “I really want that someday,” he whispers, confessing his most personal desire.

“I think ‘someday’ might be a lot closer than you think, Carlos, but only if you stop running away from it,” Grace hedges, the serious look on her face softened by her sparkling dark brown eyes. Carlos can’t help but to wrap his arms around her, pulling her into a hug.

“Incoming!” a new voice says, and Carlos looks around in time to pull both of them out of the way as Mateo, their busboy, comes barreling through with a tub full of dirty dishes. “Also, don’t look now, Reyes, but your dream boy just arrived,” he teases, shooting Carlos a smirk as he moves through to the kitchen. 

Carlos freezes at the sound of the bell, his arm still draped over Grace’s shoulder. He can’t help it when his gaze automatically shifts over to the entrance, his heart racing as his eyes lock on to the stunning green pair belonging to the one person he can never get out of his head, no matter how hard he tries.

TK Strand.

☕☕☕☕

Carolina’s Café is definitely TK’s favorite place in Texas, possibly the world.

When his dad first moved them to Austin the summer before his junior year, TK had hated every single thing about the city. All of his friends, his boyfriend, everything that he had ever known, he was forced to leave behind in New York. He was fully prepared to shut himself away until school started, where he would go through the motions for two years before moving back to the city. And then, almost as if fate demanded a change of perspective, he found a safe haven.

His second week in Texas, he stumbled across the small, intimate cafe and immediately knew that he had found his sanctuary. It was one of those places that looked smaller on the outside, but once he stepped through the door he realized that it seemed to stretch for miles, full of hidden depths that TK couldn’t wait to discover. Mismatched, colorful chairs and tables filled the long galley-like space, with comfy couches and armchairs set-up in a few corners to create intimate gathering places. Lamps were scattered throughout the space, giving the room a soft glow, and a single chandelier hung down from the high ceiling. During the day, natural light poured in from the high windows at the front of the shop to illuminate the various activities within, but at night, the glittering lights from the fixture above and the tea lights on the tables created a warm, comforting atmosphere that felt like home. From that very first day, when he spent almost five uninterrupted hours inside the cafe’s walls, TK recognized that it was going to be the saving grace he needed in his new home.

He steps through the door now, letting the familiar smell of coffee and baked goods assault his senses, the soft hum of music, conversation, and grinding from behind the counter rolling over him in waves. As they always do, his eyes immediately move towards the barista station, his breath catching in his chest as he spots his absolute favorite fixture of Carolina’s Café. 

Carlos Reyes.

When he allows himself to really think about it, usually late at night when he’s falling asleep, TK knows that this cafe is so special to him because it gave him Carlos. Sure, he would’ve met the other guy when school started, but for TK, meeting the barista during his first weeks in Austin is what allowed him to let go of a lot of his personal biases against the city. They formed a special bond in that first month over small conversations across the counter. Carlos was one of the first people that made him genuinely smile since he found out about the move, and he was responsible for most of his smiles in the weeks that followed. TK struggled for a time with the why of it all, but at the end of the day, he was just happy to find a friendly source of comfort in a somewhat foreign world.

He’s pulled out of his thoughts by a firm hand on his shoulder, guiding him away from the door and further into the coffee shop. There’s a huff of laughter behind him, and he turns to find Paul and Marjan sharing a look. “What?” he asks, squinting at his friends.

“Do we have to do the whole ‘time stands still, eyes lock’ moment every single time we come here?” Marjan smirks, shifting her gaze towards the counter. TK feels a heat rise on his cheeks as his mouth drops open at her bold claim.

“She’s right,” Paul teases, raising his brow as his eyes twinkle with mirth. “It was cute the first ten times, now it’s just tired and boring. You should change it up, maybe add a kiss or something.”

TK shakes his head, his mind racing with what to say in response. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he lies, his voice coming out thin as his heartbeat speeds up at the thought of a kiss. It’s something he’s definitely considered before, usually when he’s alone in his room with his eyes closed and his hand hard at work. 

“Yeah, sure you don’t,” Marjan huffs, rolling her eyes.

“Okay, brainless,” Paul continues, pointing towards their usual couch in the back corner. “Why don’t you give it some thought while you hold our table? I’ll go order your drink. I wouldn’t want you to have to possibly interact with someone.” His smirk is obvious now, and it only serves to make TK’s blush spread; he can now feel heat on the tips of his ears, and he knows he probably looks completely ridiculous.

Without a word, he moves through the cafe towards their spot near the back, quickly glancing over towards the barista station again, watching as Grace pats Carlos on the chest, the other man nodding softly in response to whatever she’s telling him. TK notices how his face is lined with worry, and he wonders what has Carlos so stressed.

As he drops his bag next to the coffee table, collapsing onto the empty couch, he thinks back to the start of his junior year, when his relationship with Carlos shifted to the current standstill that they can’t seem to escape.

After that first summer, TK had looked forward to starting school, partly because it would keep him busy and take his mind off New York and everyone he was missing there, but mostly because he would get to see Carlos somewhere other than the cafe. He was excited about the possibility of getting to know his classmate outside of work, without their barista/customer labels and a counter between them.

Those first weeks were promising; they had a few classes together, and TK still spent two or three afternoons a week studying at the cafe. He bonded with Marjan and Paul pretty quickly, and it seemed like Carlos would fit pretty seamlessly into their new friend group. The four of them shared a lab table together in science, and though Carlos was definitely the quiet one, it felt comfortable. But then, TK made the mistake of inviting his boyfriend to Homecoming, and wherever their friendship seemed to be heading quickly became a fantasy.

TK sighs at the memory of that terrible weekend, looking back towards the counter to see Carlos filling a few orders, his head down as he focuses on the multiple drinks in front of him. He’s always admired the other man’s ability to lose himself in the simple task of making lattes and cappuccinos, remembering how he was drawn to Carlos’s careful and delicate actions the very first time TK met him. 

He palms start to sweat as he watches how Carlos’s muscular torso strains against his tight-fitting t-shirt when he twists around to grab things from the counter behind him. TK would never be able to pinpoint what exactly draws him to the other guy; for him, it’s a combination of every single part of Carlos that makes him worthy of TK’s affection. He’s truly never felt this way about anyone else in his life.

“You’re staring again,” a voice says, interrupting his lovelorn thoughts. TK looks up to see Marjan standing at his side, two cups in her hands. She passes one over to him, which he takes with a grateful smile, before sitting next to him on the couch. “I don’t know why you do this to yourself, TK.”

He stays silent, sipping his mocha latte, and pretends that he doesn’t know what she’s talking about. Marjan, never one to let things just go, doesn’t play into his game. “What’s stopping you from asking him out, Strand?” she hedges, sitting her cup down on the table in front of them before shifting to look at him, her arms crossed in front of her chest. 

TK puts his own mug down, running his hands through his hair as he processes her truly overwhelming question. “I don’t think he thinks of me like that,” he finally answers, staring down at his feet as he hunches over to avoid looking at her.

“Well that’s bullshit,” Paul says out of nowhere, and TK looks up to find that he’s joined him. “You act like you’ve never seen the way Reyes looks at you.”

TK flushes for the second time since they’ve arrived. He knows that sometimes he’ll look up to find Carlos looking in his direction during class or while he’s studying, but the other guy always immediately looks away when he spots him. He doesn’t want to read into those moments, or try to make sense of them; he’s too afraid of what they might mean.

“Guys, we’re barely even friends,” he starts, picking at his fingers. “I thought at one point we could be, but then…”

He trails off, biting his lip. He can almost sense the way Marjan and Paul share a look, and he knows what they’re about to say before they even make a sound.

“TK, Homecoming was a long time ago,” Marjan starts, her voice gentle. “You’ve gotta stop feeling guilty about that.”

“Yeah, besides,” Paul continues, taking a sip of his own coffee, “we forgave you for that, and I’m pretty sure Carlos did, too.”

TK doesn’t respond; he hears what his friends are saying, but his brain can’t help but remind him how, after that weekend, Carlos was a little distant. It wasn’t in a mean or rude way, but TK could tell that his classmate became a little more guarded around him. Since then, they’ve shared more classes and even worked together on a few group assignments, and Carlos is friendly and kind every single time, but he and TK are very much just two peers. No matter how much he wishes they could be more, he can’t go back and erase that weekend where Alex visited from New York.

“Can we talk about something else?” he begs, reaching down to pull his textbook from his bag. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Paul and Marjan share yet another look before they too reach for their homework. There are a few minutes of silence as they all settle in, before Marjan breaks it, staring down at her phone.

“Looks like Iris is having another party this Friday,” she shares, typing a response to someone. “Wanna go?”

“Might as well,” Paul shrugs, staring down at his own phone. 

“Sure,” TK says, shooting a smirk over to Paul. “You know Vanessa’s probably going to be there.”

“Nope, nuh-uh,” Paul says, shaking his head as he points a finger at TK. “If we don’t get to talk about your love life, we’re certainly not talking about mine.”

TK grins down at his book, thinking about the girl in their class that Paul has been hooking up with for months. Before he can form a reply, someone approaches their corner.

“I thought you guys would probably want some water,” Mateo says, balancing a tray of three glasses of ice water in front of him. TK can’t help but to notice how the sophomore’s gaze shifts to Marjan, who is still staring down at her phone. He bites the inside of his cheek to hide his grin as he moves his book to the side. 

“Thanks, Mateo,” he says, pushing forward on the couch to take another sip of his latte. Mateo just nods, placing the first cup down on the table. 

Finally realizing that someone has joined them, Marjan looks up to assess the situation, a smile appearing on her face when she sees what Mateo has brought them. “Aww, thanks Mateo, that’s really sweet of you.”

TK watches, almost in slow-motion, as Mateo reacts to his friend speaking directly to him, his grip on the tray unsteady as he looks Marjan’s way, his eyes wide. Before he can make a move to help, the remaining two glasses tip off the side, a shower of icy water splashing TK in the face and down the front of his shirt from where he was leaning forward over the table. 

“Oh, shit,” Mateo yells, immediately reaching for the towel on his hip as TK stands, water dripping from his hair. He brushes it back from his face, a shiver running through him at the sudden cold. “I’m so sorry, TK.”

“Mateo, don’t worry about it,” TK says lightly, pushing the boy’s helpful hands away. “It’s just water, it’s not a big deal.”

The busboy’s face still looks terrified, so TK circles the table to grip his arm in reassurance. “Seriously, dude, it was a simple mistake, it’s totally okay. I’ll just go dry off in the bathroom.”

Mateo nods, guilt clear on his face as he turns back towards the table, where the remaining water has pooled. TK turns away, moving quickly towards the restroom. He pushes the door open, noting that it’s empty, and crosses over to the mirror, taking in how the entire front of his shirt is soaked with water, the fabric sticking to his skin. With a resigned sigh, he pulls it off over his head, turning to the hand dryer. It might take awhile, but he’s sure he can dry it enough to wear it home. 

He’s just started when he hears the door open behind him. “Sorry, there was a spill,” he begins, not wanting to freak the newcomer out by standing in the bathroom shirtless. He turns to show them his soaked shirt, and freezes when he sees who it is.

Carlos stands just inside the door, which continues to close slowly behind him. TK feels a heavy thump in his chest as his crush looks silently back at him, Carlos’s mouth open slightly in shock. He watches as the other man’s eyes briefly trail down to his bare chest, lingering there for a moment. TK realizes how much he likes having those soft brown eyes on him, enjoying the flush that rises on his skin as Carlos continues to stare at him so openly. It sends a chill down his spine that has nothing to do with the spilled drinks. 

He hears himself let out a breath of air, a sound that pulls Carlos from his daze. TK watches as he rapidly blinks, his eyes moving to look anywhere but directly at him or his bare chest. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude,” Carlos finally speaks, and TK can’t help to notice how the words come out breathy, almost like Carlos is having a hard time taking in enough air. “I thought you might need this.”

He holds out a green t-shirt, his eyes now firmly locked on a point just above TK’s left ear. TK takes a moment to process the offer, his brain running through a myriad of thoughts, all of them doing nothing to help lessen his ever-present crush, before he reaches out to take the shirt. His fingers just barely brush Carlos’s during the exchange, and TK feels a tingle at the point of contact, watching as his classmate looks down at his own hand in surprise before catching TK’s eye again. He looks a little terrified, and TK wants nothing more than to just reach out and comfort him.

“I promise it’s clean,” Carlos continues, gesturing to the shirt now in TK’s hand. “I always keep a spare one here, just in case.” He grimaces in sympathy, and TK nearly melts at the way his forehead crease grows more intense at the action.

“Thanks,” he finally responds, his voice thin as he does everything in his power not to throw himself at Carlos, his feelings reaching a thrilling new peak. “I really appreciate it.”

Carlos smiles softly, his eyes glinting even in the harsh fluorescent lighting of the bathroom. “I’ll leave you to it,” he says, nodding slightly as he turns to open the door and head back out to the shop.

Alone once again, TK lets out a giant breath, trying to calm the emotions swirling around inside of him. He looks down at the shirt in his hands, his fingers running over the soft cotton. Before he can second-guess himself, he brings it up to his nose and inhales deeply. There’s an unmistakable smell of coffee, but there’s also another scent, probably laundry detergent, and his heart races as he comes to that realization. He feels like he just learned something about Carlos that he never knew before, and it makes him absolutely giddy.

Shaking his head at his own ridiculousness, he pulls the t-shirt on over his now dry torso, noticing how loose it fits him in comparison to the way Carlos’s shirts fit snugly on his own broad body. TK pulls slightly at the fabric, his heart hammering in his chest at the sudden desire to have Carlos pressed up against him, skin against skin, with no space to tell where he ends and Carlos begins. He groans at the thought.

When it comes to Carlos Reyes, TK is in way over his head. 

☕☕☕☕

Carlos doesn’t really know why he’s here.

When Paul and Marjan cornered him at the cafe while TK was finishing up in the restroom to tell him about Iris’s party, he had immediately rejected their invitation, citing a shift at work. But then, of course, Grace had asked him about it, and when he told her that he wasn’t going, she spent the rest of their shift convincing him that a party was exactly what he needed. 

“You only have a few months left of high school,” she had said, hands on her hips as she looked up at him, “and you’ve never been to a party. If you don’t go, you might regret not having that experience at least once.”

When he remained unconvinced, his best friend pulled out her assistant manager trump card, taking him off the conflicting shift and putting herself on for Friday night instead. “I’m not saying you have to go, I just want you to keep your options open,” she had smirked, nudging him gently as she moved away to restock the counter.

So, Carlos now finds himself standing in front of the Blake house, hands in his pockets, wondering if he can just turn around and go back home. He feels uncomfortable in his own skin, hearing music and sounds from the backyard. It’s not that he’s an antisocial person, just that he’s always felt more comfortable in small-group settings. When there are too many people around, he gets too overwhelmed by everyone’s constant need for attention and chooses to just fade into the background to avoid it entirely. 

Carlos shakes himself, trying to calm down. He knows that Grace is right; he turns 18 in three months, and he’s never done something like this, but he’s always been curious about what happens at house parties. He’s going to try to make the most of it, and he knows that if he doesn’t like it, he can leave at any time. With a deep breath, he clenches his jaw, moving up the path to the front door. 

Inside, the Blake house is pretty spacious, with less people than Carlos was expecting. Everyone is spread out, mingling in small groups. There’s music playing, but it’s not blasting throughout the house like teen movies have made him believe it would be; instead it’s mostly contained to the living room to his right, where space has been cleared for people to dance. Carlos steps further into the entryway, hands still in his pockets, bottom lip pressed nervously between his teeth as he tries to figure out what to do next.

“Reyes!” he hears behind him, and he turns to see Paul approaching him, a beer bottle in his hand and a bright smile on his face. Before Carlos can speak, he’s being pulled into a hug, the shorter man wrapping his strong arms around him in a steady embrace. A grin pulls at his lips, humored by Paul’s relaxed state, and he brings his arms up to grip the other guy tightly. Carlos feels some of the tension seep out at the comforting gesture. 

“Hi, Paul,” he says when they pull apart, glancing around them. “This is way more chill than I thought it would be.”

“Yeah, it’s not too bad yet,” Paul responds, taking a sip of his beer. “There’s usually a few people who go a little wild later in the evening, but it doesn’t take too much to get them under control. Is this your first party?” he asks, his eyebrows raising slightly in surprise. 

Carlos nods sheepishly, looking down at his feet as his hands return to his pockets. 

“Don’t look so worried,” Paul says, gripping his arm gently. “You’ll be fine. Come on, I know someone who’s going to freak when he sees you.” He keeps a hand on Carlos’s shoulder as he guides him through the house towards the backyard.

Carlos feels his heart race at Paul’s statement, a hope flaring in his chest as he considers who Paul might be talking about. He knows who he wants it to be, but he’s been disappointed before, and he decides not to throw himself into that situation again. It’s easier if he just lets things happen, without unrealistic expectations. 

They pass the kitchen, Carlos noticing how the large island is covered in a wide variety of bottles and mixers. He feels his palms start to sweat again, hoping it won’t be a big deal to anyone that he’s not a big drinker. 

Paul leads him through the open patio door, and Carlos takes in the large pool where numerous people are swimming and tossing around beach balls. He even spots a couple making out in a corner, tightly wrapped around each other, and though Carlos has never been a fan of that kind of PDA, he can’t help the way his heart yearns for a similar moment with a certain brown-haired someone. 

His eyes immediately zero in on said person as Paul steers him off to a corner of the backyard. TK’s back is to them, and Carlos can tell that he’s currently in the middle of a conversation with Marjan, his hands gesturing wildly as he speaks. Carlos smiles at the sight; he’s fondly watched TK hold court the same way from behind the counter at the cafe, and it’s never not endearing. 

“Strand,” Paul speaks up at his side, causing Carlos to jump slightly as he’s pulled out of his collection of TK memories. He watches how Marjan spots him first, a smile rising on her face, and then TK is turning towards him, and Carlos feels the breath leave his lungs.

TK has always been beautiful. He has these bright green eyes that Carlos sees every night in his dreams, and a smile that makes his heart ache. He’s always full of boundless energy, some part of his body always on the move, even when he’s trying to sit still and focus, and it makes Carlos want to wrap him in his arms and calm him down so that the man can have a moment of rest. Every single part of him lights a fire inside of Carlos, but he truly doesn’t mind the heat; he would probably let himself burn if it meant that he could have TK at his side.

The point is, TK has always been beautiful, but this is the first time that Carlos can remember being completely stunned at the sight of him. His bright eyes are alight and dancing in the light of the bonfire next to them, his face glowing as he smiles openly, a light blush coloring his cheeks. A sheen of sweat glistens on his forehead and neck, no doubt from the nearby fire and whatever drink he’s holding in his hand. Carlos feels his heart drop down into his stomach, the desire to reach out and touch him reaching a thrilling new high. 

“Carlos!” TK says in shock, his eyes wide as he takes him in, his gaze trailing down his body. Carlos awkwardly shifts a bit, feeling the way his tight black jeans drag uncomfortably against his skin. “You’re… I… What are you doing here?” TK asks, blinking rapidly as he struggles to choose his words. 

Carlos’s throat tightens at the question, suddenly realizing that TK had no idea he was coming. He turns to look at Paul, who jumps in with a steady hand on his arm. “Marjan and I invited him, when you were drying off in the bathroom the other day.”

TK turns to glare at Marjan, and Carlos feels his heart break in his chest. “I’m sorry,” he starts, his voice wavering in humiliation, “I’ll just go.”

He’s barely taken a step when he feels fingers on his wrist, the grip gentle but still enough to stop him in his tracks. He turns to find TK holding onto him, and Carlos can’t help the way his skin sings at the feeling of them touching for the second time this week.

“Please don’t leave,” TK pleads, his eyes shining as he bites his bottom lip. “Sorry for being an ass, I just wasn’t expecting to see you here.” He takes a breath, his thumb absentmindedly grazing along the vein on the inside of Carlos’s wrist, sending a shiver through him. “But I’m really happy that you came, Carlos.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Carlos sees Marjan and Paul back away, leaving the two of them alone. He locks eyes with TK, seeing the sincerity of his apology, and he nods, a small smile forming on his lips. With deep breath, TK releases his arm, the bright smile returning to his face. “Do you want a drink?” he asks, raising his cup to his lips to take a sip.

“Um, water would be good,” Carlos says, an embarrassed flush crawling up his neck at the request. If TK judges him for it, he doesn’t let it show. He just gives him a small nod, gesturing back towards the house. 

TK takes the lead, and Carlos falls slightly behind, his gaze falling to the other man’s hips as he walks them towards the house. Like Carlos, TK is wearing a tight pair of dark jeans, his strong thighs and calves clearly visible under the denim fabric. His eyes trail up TK’s back, noticing how drops of sweat have soaked through his close-fitting striped button-up. Carlos shakes his head, trying to clear away the sudden thought of his tongue pressed against TK’s slick skin; his jeans are way too tight for him to be thinking like that in a public setting. 

They enter the kitchen, and Carlos watches silently as TK dumps the rest of his drink into the sink before tossing his cup into the recycling bin. Then, he opens the fridge and pulls out two water bottles, handing one to Carlos with a soft smile.

“Thanks,” he says, taking a long drink. He catches TK staring at his throat before quickly looking away, his fingers tapping nervously against the countertop. “You didn’t have to dump your drink because of me,” Carlos continues, guilt crawling into his gut.

“Oh, no, it’s okay,” TK hurries to say, shaking his head. “I don’t like to drink too much, so I usually switch to water anyway. Alcohol has been known to make me stupid.” He pulls his bottom lip between his teeth, a sure sign of anxiety, as Carlos has come to learn during their few interactions.

Carlos nods, his gaze roaming over the room. It’s still not as crazy as he was expecting; sure, there are a lot of people around, but no one’s running around acting stupid and breaking stuff like he imagined. 

“This is your first party, isn’t it?” TK asks suddenly, and Carlos feels himself flush.

“Is it that obvious?” 

“A little,” TK admits, reaching out to squeeze Carlos’s bicep. “Don’t worry, it’s really cute.”

Carlos stares at him, feeling the way his eyebrows rise up his forehead at TK’s claim. 

“Come on, we can go back outside where it’s quieter,” TK suggests, moving back towards the patio door. Carlos follows, his mind trying to keep up with his racing heart. 

TK leads him over to an empty porch swing, taking a seat and gesturing for Carlos to join him. Heart pounding in his chest, Carlos moves to sit next to him, sinking into the weather-resistant floral cushion. He can feel heat radiating off of TK, their shoulders only a few inches apart. He opens his mouth to break the awkward silence between them, but the words get caught in his throat, so instead he takes another sip of water to give himself something to do. 

“This is awkward, isn’t it?” TK finally says, and Carlos watches as he drums his fingers nervously against his leg. 

“Sorry, I’m just a little overwhelmed,” Carlos gets out, rolling his eyes at how stupid he feels. 

“Okay,” TK says, the word dragging out a bit. He shifts his position on the swing, pulling one leg up as he turns to face Carlos. “I feel like we’re thinking too much, so maybe we should just say the first thing that pops into our heads, and see where that goes,” he suggests, a somewhat desperate look taking over his face.

Carlos nods, shifting his own position to mirror TK. He stares at him for a moment, taking advantage of having him this close to drink him in. Then, before he can stop himself, he’s voicing a thought that has been running around in his brain since they last saw each other at the cafe.

“I didn’t know you had a tattoo.”

TK freezes for a moment, his surprise clear on his face, before letting out a bright, short laugh, running his hand through his hair as his smile widens. 

“Right, you saw that,” he confirms, and Carlos knows that TK’s thinking back to their moment in the bathroom; it’s a moment that Carlos can’t get out of his head, no matter how hard he tries. It feels like TK’s bare chest has been branded on the inside of his eyelids.

“It’s a Maltese Cross, isn’t it?” Carlos questions, knowing that he’s probably giving away more about his Internet search history than he probably should, but if TK got a tattoo of it, it’s probably pretty important to him, and he wants to hear him talk about it.

“Yeah,” TK says, and Carlos watches him hesitate for only a moment before he’s reaching down to undo the top two buttons of his shirt. Carlos holds his breath, his hands clenching into fists as TK’s pale, smooth skin is uncovered in front of him for the second time this week. TK pulls the now loose fabric to the side, and Carlos can see the tattoo clearly now, the black ink boldly displayed on the perfect canvas of his chest. Now that he’s been given permission to look closely, he notices the words “FIRE” and “RESCUE,” as well as a ladder, hydrant, and helmet. “I got it a few months ago for my 18th birthday,” TK explains.

“It’s for your dad, right?” Carlos asks, glancing up at TK as he remembers one of their earliest conversations at the coffee shop. 

“Um, yeah,” TK says, looking down at his chest. “And for me, too. I’m joining the fire academy in the fall.” 

Carlos can’t help it when he lets out a huff of surprise at that information. “No way, really?” he asks, his brain already conjuring up a number of images featuring TK in turnout gear and a helmet. He shifts slightly, trying to ignore the discomfort in his jeans.

“Yeah, it’s kind of all that I’ve ever wanted to do,” he explains, twisting his fingers together in his lap. “My dad has always been my biggest hero, and I just want to do what he does. You know, help people, make a difference...”

He trails off, and Carlos swears that he melts a little bit at his words, the affection that he already feels for TK settling in his chest, taking hold of his heart. The sudden shift causes him to panic a little, the terror that this is more than just a crush nearly incapacitating him. He shakes his head, trying to be calm; he doesn’t need to freak TK out.

“My dad was my hero, too,” he says, trying to keep his voice steady. “He was a police officer, and I think he really did want to help people like us, to give them someone to rely on.”

“What happened?” TK whispers, his body still for what might be the first time in Carlos’s memory. 

“He died when I was six,” he answers, looking up at TK with a sad smile. “High-speed auto accident while on-duty. For the longest time, I wanted to be just like him, pick up his mantle or whatever, but the older I get, the less sure I am about following his path.”

TK nods, clearly understanding what Carlos means. “So what is the post-graduation plan, then?” he asks, and Carlos hears genuine curiosity in his tone.

“I got accepted to TSU’s criminal justice program,” he reveals, gesturing vaguely. “I think I’m just hoping that the right path will be revealed to me if I take the right classes and learn enough about the system, but I don’t know...”

“You’re just looking for the best way to help people,” TK finishes for him, his gaze softening when Carlos nods. “Well, I think whatever you end up doing, you’ll be really great at it.”

Carlos gapes at him, his heartbeat skipping inside his chest as he struggles to process this night. This is the closest that he’s felt to TK in a really long time, and he’s so beyond happy that Grace convinced him to come. 

He’s lost in his thoughts, so unconsciously drawn to the man next to him, that he doesn’t even realize he’s reaching out towards TK until he makes contact with his skin, the pads of his fingers trailing along the black lines peeking out from under his shirt. He freezes, an apology already on his lips as he pulls his hand away, but before he can do so, TK is reaching up to grab his wrist, holding him there. 

Time stands still as the feeling of TK’s rapid heartbeat courses through his entire body, lighting up every molecule inside of him. Their eyes lock, each of them hardly breathing, and Carlos honestly feels like he might die right here on this porch swing in Iris Blake’s backyard. 

A loud shriek over by the pool sends them both careening back to reality, and Carlos quickly pulls his hand away as he glances around them. For a moment, he had completely forgotten that they were at a party surrounded by so many people, everything else having faded away into nothingness.

He looks back at TK, the other man giving him an odd look, his brows furrowed as he considers him. Carlos opens his mouth to ask what’s wrong, but TK beats him to it.

“Do you want to get out of here?”

Carlos feels a heat rise up the back of his neck, his mind rifling through all of the possibilities about what that question could mean. Before he can truly overthink it, he decides to just go with his gut, and hope that it takes him where he desperately wants them to go.

“Yeah,” he breathes out, a fond smile pulling at his lips as TK lets out an obvious sigh of relief. 

“Awesome,” he says, jumping to his feet, and Carlos can’t help but laugh at the display of nervous energy; it’s so recognizably TK that it makes his heart swell. “I’m going to go find Marjan or Paul to tell them that we’re leaving. I’ll meet you out front?” 

Carlos merely nods, the overwhelming feeling from before returning in full-force. TK smiles at him one more time before darting back into the house to find his friends. 

Left alone, Carlos leans forward to run his hands through his curls, letting out a deep breath. He never in a million years thought that this would happen when he showed up to this party, but now he knows that he’ll never regret coming. 

This night is already shaping up to be something he’ll never forget.

☕☕☕☕

TK feels like his brain is in overdrive, and his rapidly-beating heart is doing nothing to help calm the hyperactivity inside of him.

Back in the house, he shuts himself inside the bathroom, splashing cold water on his face to try to regain control. He can still feel the heat from Carlos’s fingers on his skin, the memory of his eyes on him sending shocks racing through his body. TK’s glad that he suggested a change of venue; he was this close to closing the distance between them and devouring Carlos in a way-to-dirty-for-public display of pent-up emotion and desire. Staring at his flushed face in the mirror, he’s relieved that he didn’t do that. He wants their first kiss, if they ever get there, to be special; Carlos deserves nothing less. 

With a sigh, he runs his fingers through his hair, styling it the way that he likes. He pulls out his phone, shooting a text to his group message with Marjan and Paul to tell them that he and Carlos are leaving early. Marjan immediately texts back three confetti cannon emojis, while Paul’s text comes in a few seconds later. It just reads “about damn time,” and TK rolls his eyes as he slides his phone into his back pocket, his smile widening as he thinks about spending more time alone with Carlos. 

This is already the best night of his life.

TK finds him standing on the front sidewalk, hands in his pockets as Carlos looks up at the night sky. He approaches silently, taking this rare opportunity to admire his wider-than-necessary shoulders and backside, his heart racing as he considers the very real possibility of getting to appreciate those features one day. He shakes his head, trying to clear the image from his mind; there’s no point in getting ahead of himself when they haven’t even talked about what’s happening between them.

“Hey,” TK says gently, coming to a stop next to Carlos, who turns and gives him a soft smile.

“Hi.” 

There’s a brief moment where they stand there, smiling at one another like there’s nothing else that they would rather be doing on a Friday night. Then, TK breaks the spell.

“Do you want to take a walk?”

Carlos seems a little surprised by the idea, his eyebrows raising slightly, but then he’s nodding, and TK swears that he sees a twinkle in his eye.

“Yeah, I’d love to take a walk with you.”

TK turns to his left, taking the lead, and Carlos quickly falls into step next to him. It’s quiet for a moment as they leave the Blake house behind, the sounds of the party fading away.

“I used to walk all the time back in New York,” TK starts, scrambling for something to say. “That’s probably not shocking, but I was a little disappointed when I found out that Austin is more of a driving city. I like to walk around my neighborhood, but it’s not exactly the same.”

“Do you miss it?” Carlos asks quietly, and TK glances over to find his eyes staring straight ahead. He seems normal, but TK catches the way he’s clenching his jaw just a little more than usual.

“Less and less,” he admits, looking down at his feet. “I think if I went back, New York would feel like a whole other world to me now. My home is here, in Austin.”

“Well, that’s a little surprising,” Carlos huffs, his voice thin. “I remember a time when all you wanted to do was move back to New York, you couldn’t wait to get out of here.”

TK feels his breath catch in his throat. It’s the first time either of them have acknowledged their pre-Homecoming relationship since it fell apart. He feels a new kind of tension between them, one that makes him uneasy. He wonders if this is it, the moment when they put their past out there.

“Do you have a plan for where we’re going?” Carlos asks suddenly as they reach the end of the street, and TK looks over to see him glancing down the road, his bottom lip pressed between his teeth.

“I, um,” TK begins, his nerves making it hard to speak clearly, “I actually live just a few blocks away, if you don’t mind walking me home?”

Carlos turns to face him, his eyes wide. TK stares back, wanting more than anything to just get lost in his gaze. Carlos has a way of making him feel like he’s wrapped up in a safe blanket with just one look, and it makes him long for a day where they can just be together, in whatever way makes sense, without any hang-ups. 

“Sure,” he says gently. 

They turn to the left again, another silence falling between them. TK twists his hands together in front of him, working up the courage to finally face the elephant on the sidewalk.

“Carlos, I’m sorry,” he blurts out, a heat rising on his cheeks as the other man turns towards him, his confusion clear. “For Homecoming, and Alex, and everything that happened that weekend,” he barrels on before Carlos can speak.

He watches as Carlos clenches his jaw again, shaking his head as he looks away. “Okay, um, thank you, I guess? But I don’t understand, you apologized for that a long time ago, and I forgave you already.”

TK eyes him, noticing how tense his shoulders are, so he decides to push further. He doesn’t want anything to go unspoken between them, not anymore, not when they’ve come this far. 

“I know, but it was a terrible fucking apology, and you deserved better,” he continues. “I basically forced Alex to come and visit me, and he really hated being here. I knew that, he wasn’t quiet about it, and I still dragged him to Carolina’s. I don’t know, I guess I just wanted to share my favorite place with him,” he says, stumbling over the confession. “I didn’t know that he would take his bad mood out on you and Paul and Marjan like that.”

“Yeah,” Carlos breaks in, and TK can hear an edge in his voice that crushes him. “I mean, I think we can all admit that Texas isn’t without its flaws, but it’s still not fun to listen to some asshole shit on your hometown for two hours and not be able to say anything because you’re at work.”

“I know, and I’m so sorry that you had to deal with him--”

“TK, you don’t have to apologize, he clearly wasn’t sorry about what he said.”

“No, I know, I know,” TK clarifies, his movements agitated as they turn onto his street. “I’m not apologizing for him, I’m apologizing for putting you in that position. You didn’t deserve it, and I did nothing to stop him and I should have, and I’m sorry, Carlos. I’m so sorry.”

Carlos stops in his tracks at the clear emotion in TK’s voice, reaching out to grip his arms soothingly. “Hey, TK, it’s okay. It was over a year ago, you apologized the very next time I saw you, and I eventually got over it.”

“Did you?” TK hears himself ask before he can stop the question. He watches as Carlos rapidly blinks, visibly swallowing, his fingers still pressed against TK’s skin.

“It’s just…” TK begins, looking away quickly as he feels frustrated tears forming; the last thing he wants to do is cry tonight. “You were the first good thing that I found here, Carlos. That summer, those first weeks of school, I thought we were… I don’t know, becoming friends, I guess. But then after Homecoming, there was this distance between us and I couldn’t figure out how to get rid of it, and now I don’t know what we are.”

TK isn’t expecting it when Carlos pulls him close, wrapping his arms around him to steady him. He freezes, his heart liquifying in his chest as he struggles to comprehend the embrace. TK has literally thought about what it would be like to hug Carlos since that very first day, long before it was appropriate for him to be thinking of the barista in that way. Still, he couldn’t help but to imagine those strong arms holding him tight, their chests pressed tightly together. 

He realizes now that he vastly underestimated how perfect it would feel to have Carlos so close. TK wraps his own arms around him before he can pull away, leaning in to rest his chin on Carlos’s shoulder. He feels completely surrounded and whole, all of his senses assaulted by their proximity. He can smell the familiar scent of Carlos’s laundry detergent, except this time it’s not mixed with the smell of coffee, but something else, something that TK just knows is inherently Carlos, and that discovery makes his heart race. He desperately wants to discover everything there is to know about this man in his arms.

Eventually, they pull apart, TK purposefully dragging his hands down Carlos’s back and around his waist before separating from him completely. They avoid each other’s eyes, awkwardly turning back to walk in the direction they were heading. TK steals a glance at the same time that Carlos does, their eyes meeting briefly before they quickly look away again. He can’t help the bubble of giddy laughter that crawls up his throat, his heart skipping when he hears Carlos respond with a laugh of his own.

“For the record, I’m sorry, too,” Carlos says, his deep, soothing voice cutting through the still night air. “That first summer you were here, I also thought we were… becoming something. And I guess meeting Alex was a bit of a surprise, and I didn’t react to it very well. I think some sense of self-preservation led to me pulling back a bit. That was selfish of me, and I’m sorry that I hurt you or confused you.”

At Carlos’s confession, TK feels a long-misplaced part of his heart finally slide back to where it belongs, the clear understanding of where they went wrong like a giant weight lifted from him. 

He stops at the end of his driveway, noticing his dad’s truck parked in front of the garage. He didn’t realize it was late enough for him to be home from work. He knows he should probably go inside, but he can’t help but turn back towards Carlos, seeing the way his brown eyes scan his face, his brows furrowed in thought.

“So,” TK starts, wiggling his head a bit to help lessen the tension of the moment. 

“So,” Carlos responds, a grin appearing on his face.

“So,” TK repeats, dragging the world out as he dares to reach out and poke Carlos’s arm, “where does that leave us now? You know, without the Alex-shaped hole between us?”

Carlos stares at him for a moment, considering his question, before holding out his hand.

“Hey, I’m Carlos,” he says, raising an eyebrow, challenging TK to meet him halfway.

“I’m TK,” he responds, taking Carlos’s hand in his and shaking it. He feels ridiculous, and Carlos must, too, because they both crack up in laughter at the same time. 

“It’s nice to meet you, TK,” Carlos says, stepping back, his eyes glinting as his smile remains firmly in place. TK may let out a lovelorn sigh at the sight, but he’s not entirely sure.

Carlos is a little ways back down the sidewalk when a question pops into TK’s head, and he doesn’t hesitate to ask it, raising his voice so that Carlos can hear him clearly.

“Does this mean that we have to forget everything we already know about each other?”

Carlos turns towards him, continuing to walk backwards. Even from a distance, TK can tell that he’s the most beautiful person in the entire world, bar none.

“Of course not,” Carlos yells back, raising his arms in a wide gesture. “It just means we get to learn more!”

TK doesn’t take his eyes off him until he’s completely out of sight, and even then, he swears he’ll never forget that final view of a relaxed, carefree, and gorgeous Carlos Reyes bathed in the Texas moonlight for as long as he lives.

☕☕☕☕

For the seventh or eighth time this week, Carlos finds himself absentmindedly scrubbing down the espresso machine, the cloth towel in his hand growing dirtier and dirtier as he presses into every crease and crevice of his station. Grace has started joking that if he keeps it up, they may be able to resell it for the cost of a new one, since no one will be able to tell that it’s been used before. 

He apologizes every time she cracks the joke, but his friend just waves him off, and he goes back to his mindless scrubbing, once again getting lost in his overwhelming thoughts.

It’s been nearly two weeks since he walked TK home from Iris Blake’s party, and Carlos feels like he’s entered an alternate reality. His daily routine hasn’t changed in the slightest; he still wakes up, goes to school, and then most days of the week he works at the coffee shop. When he’s not at the cafe, he’s at home, spending time with his sisters or cooking with his mom. Arguably, it’s the life that he’s always known.

Except it’s not, because now there’s this specter hanging over every part of his day, and his name is TK Strand. Every morning he wakes up clutching a pillow to his chest, imagining that it’s TK’s firm body pressed against him, the ghost of their hug still fresh in his mind. When he’s at school, they share a few classes, and he can’t help but to glance over at TK every chance he gets, a thrill coursing through him when he finds him looking back. When he’s at home, moving around the kitchen with his mom, he can’t help but imagine what it would be like to hang out and cook with TK, the two of them pressed close as they try out new recipes together.

TK still shows up at the coffee shop most days of the week, and Carlos would be a little concerned about his obvious coffee addiction if he wasn’t so damn excited to see him each and every time. TK will place his usual order, which Carlos will always have started before he even utters a word, and then he’ll move down to the end of the counter to stand on the other side of the espresso machine, his face lit up into a smile that Carlos feels is made just for him. 

The first time TK showed up at Carolina’s after the party, Carlos was so nervous that he spilled a carton of milk all over the floor. Grace, who had been working with him, had helped him clean up the mess and then, when their line died down, dragged him into the kitchen, a knowing smirk on her face.

“You wanna tell me what that was about?” she had asked, her voice low as she leaned towards him. 

“It was nothing, my hand just slipped,” Carlos assured her, feeling a heat rise on his cheeks as his voice came out higher than normal.

“Carlos, you are meticulous when you’re at work. You hardly ever spill,” Grace had reminded him, bringing a gentle hand up to cup his cheek. “There’s only one person who makes you nervous enough to throw you off your game, and I just happened to notice how he walked through the door right before your little accident.”

Carlos had groaned, dropping his eyes to the floor. Then, like a giant wave careening onto an unsuspecting beach, he was telling her every single thing that had happened at the party the previous evening. 

“Oh my god, Carlos!” Grace had cried when he was through, jumping up and down with her hands pressed to mouth. “Oh my god! So what are you guys now? Are you going to ask him out?” 

“I don’t know, Gracie,” he had admitted, biting his lip. “I think we’re going to start over, try to be friends again.”

“And you’re okay with that?” she had questioned, giving him a knowing look. “Carlos, you’re practically in love with the guy.”

The conversation had ended there, the sound of a ringing bell forcing them back out to work. Carlos remembers that conversation now as he continues scrubbing down the espresso machine. It’s all he’s been able to think about for the past few days.

Before, he would’ve written off Grace’s claim that he was in love with TK as just her being dramatic, but that was before their walk together under the stars. He’s always had those feelings for the other guy, from the moment he first saw him. He was telling TK the truth when he said that he thought they were becoming something, and he’s spent more than a year convincing himself that he made it all up in his head, running through every single one of their conversations in his head to figure out how he missed the warning signs that TK was unavailable and uninterested.

So yeah, he might be a little in love with TK, even though they’ve been mere classmates for the better part of fifteen months, but he can’t help it; he knows that the way TK makes him feel isn’t just some simple high school crush. Carlos has experienced those, back before junior year, and he’s even gained experience from them. He’s by no means unpracticed when it comes to feeling things for other guys. Sure, he’s never publicly been with anyone, but there have been stolen moments around corners, or in a truck bed parked in an empty field. The point is, he knows what he wants from other guys and what those things can make him feel, and it’s nothing compared to what he wants with TK, or how he feels about him.

For the past two weeks, they’ve been closer than they’ve ever been as they explore their new friendship. TK will pass him in the hall, a bright smile aimed his way and a quick “hi” on his lips, and Carlos will always return the greeting. Sometimes he’ll turn back at the end of the hall and see that TK has done the same, a flutter running through his chest as they make eye contact again, before they both head off to class. Just this week, TK started texting him ridiculous memes and gifs, his messages always filled with as many emojis as he can bring himself to add, and Carlos hurries to text him back every time, his messages carrying a much more reserved tone with fewer emojis, but always full of interest and excitement at getting to hear from him. 

This friendship between them is still finding its footing, and Carlos doesn’t mind moving slow; if he and TK are truly meant for more, he knows that they have no shortage of time to figure it out.

“Earth to Carlos,” Grace says, waving her hand in front of his face to snap him out of his thoughts. He turns to look at her, feeling the way the tips of his ears heat up in embarrassment, and tries not to automatically glance over to the far corner of the room where he knows a certain someone is sitting with his nose in a book. 

“Sorry, sorry,” he says, grabbing the empty to-go cup in her other hand and looking down to read the order she’s written on the side. 

“Are you okay?” Grace asks, ducking down to look her in the face as he presses the buttons he needs on the machine. “I know you’ve been extra spacey lately, but that was a little much even for you. I thought I might have to pull the fire alarm or something to get your attention.”

He gives her a laugh, and it sounds forced even to his own ears. “I’m fine, I promise,” he tells her, focusing his attention on the drink he’s making. “Just thinking about homework that I still have to finish tonight.”

The lie sounds hollow even to his own ears, and he can tell that Grace doesn’t believe him by the way she scoffs in response, but instead of calling him on it, she just turns back to the display case, pulling out some unsold pastries to put into the walk-in overnight.

Carlos grabs the milk, pouring it into the metal canister and moving it under the steam tap. As he waits for it to heat up, he steals a quick peek over to the corner where TK is hunched over the table, focusing on a book in front of him.

It’s nearing closing time, with only a little over an hour left of Carlos’s shift, and TK has been here for almost four hours at this point. Paul and Marjan were with him when he arrived, all of them sitting on their usual couch, chatting and working on homework. However, they left about two hours ago, around 6; normally, they all leave together, and Carlos still doesn’t know what may have caused the sudden change to their routine. 

There are only a handful of people in the cafe now, most of them sitting at various tables typing away at their laptops while their coffees grow cold next to them. Carlos finishes up the cappuccino that he’s working on, passing it over to the girl waiting at the counter with a smile. Then, riding the wave of a sudden idea, he turns back towards Grace, rearranging his face into what he hopes is an innocently endearing expression. 

“Gracie, do you mind if I take a minute?” he asks, biting his lip to really sell it. She turns towards him, raising her brows; he hardly ever asks for a break, so he understands the surprise.

“Yeah, of course,” she says, reaching out to grip his elbow in support. “Is everything okay?”

“Oh yeah, I just, um...,” he hesitates, wondering if he should be upfront with her; he decides that, as his best friend, she will definitely understand. “I wanted to check-in with someone,” twisting his body in the direction of the corner couch, a small smile growing on his face.

Grace’s gaze softens, a twinkle lighting up her eyes. “Go ahead, loverboy. I’m only allowing this since you’ve already cleaned your station within an inch of its life, okay? Don’t expect these kinds of perks all the time.”

Carlos laughs, giving her a quick hug before untying his apron from around his waist and turning to place it on a hook. Then, he grabs a napkin from the dispenser and reaches towards the half-empty display case to grab a chocolate chip cookie, shooting Grace a wink as he circles around the counter.

“You’re such a charmer,” she says quietly after him, and he feels his heart pounding in his ears, but he keeps walking before he can talk himself out of his plan.

TK doesn’t notice him approaching; he’s too busy scratching away at what looks to Carlos like a very long math problem. Taking a chance, he places the cookie on top of the open page of TK’s textbook. 

TK freezes at the close movement, turning to stare at the dessert. Even with his head down, Carlos can see the way TK’s lips rise into a smile, but he’s still not prepared when that smile is directed his way, TK finally looking up at him with those bright green eyes.

“Hi,” Carlos says gently, his own smile growing the longer he stares at TK.

“Hi,” he says back, his own voice slightly rough from hours of disuse. “Do you guys offer table treats now?” he asks, gesturing towards the cookie.

“Only for the really special people,” Carlos fires back, his fingers twitching nervously at his sides. “Besides, you looked like you were fading a bit, so I thought you could use something sweet.”

TK groans, throwing himself back on the couch in a pout that is definitely way too adorable for Carlos to witness right now. It just makes him want to run his fingers through his hair to calm him down.

“I’m currently questioning my decision to take calculus this year,” TK explains, curling his bottom lip as he looks up at Carlos. He quickly looks away, fixing his eyes on the table, so that he doesn’t do something stupid like straddle him on the couch and pull that lip between his teeth. 

“Do you mind if I take a look?” he asks instead, reaching for the half-completed worksheet. At TK’s nod, Carlos glances down at it. He’s not in calculus, having elected to take statistics this semester for his math credit, which means that he really has no idea what he’s looking at. Still, he wonders if his lack of understanding might be helpful anyway.

“Okay, you finished this one, right?” Carlos asks, moving quickly around the table to sit down on the couch next to TK, who sits up to see where he’s pointing.

“Yeah, that one wasn’t too hard.”

“Okay, so what’s different about this one?” Carlos questions, staring down at the paper and intentionally ignoring how TK’s warm body is pressed to his side as they lean towards one another. 

TK launches into an explanation, pointing out the different parts of the completed problem and how it varies from the current one. Carlos listens closely, having no clue what he’s actually saying, and he can tell when TK solves his problem mid-sentence by the way the light in his eyes change, becoming brighter and more alive. He grabs the paper out of Carlos’s hand, leaning forward to scribble down the answer to the equation. 

Carlos can’t help the way his heart swells in his chest, the thought of him and TK studying together assaulting his brain without warning. He realizes how much he really wants that, to be by TK’s side whenever he works through a problem just so he can watch how his beautiful green eyes light up with excitement and pride. 

“Oh my god,” TK says, tossing his pencil down and leaning back to sink into the couch again. “I’ve been trying to solve that for like the past ten minutes, you’re the best.”

“I didn’t do anything, that was all you,” Carlos reminds him, shooting him a quick smile. “Sometimes it helps to explain things as simply as possible to get back to the basics.”

TK’s silent for a moment, staring at him with a fond look, before he huffs out a light laugh. “Well, you still helped. You’re a good study partner.”

“Thanks,” Carlos replies, his cheeks flushing. He turns back towards the table. “How about that sugar break now?” 

He reaches for the cookie, handing it over to TK. The man looks down at it for a second before breaking it in two, offering half of it to Carlos. “Share it with me?”

Carlos takes the cookie, watching as TK brings his piece up to his mouth to take a bite. He’s not expecting it when he moans around the baked good, and Carlos has to look away, swallowing an indecent noise of his own. He’s so glad that he’s seated, though he takes a moment to adjust his hips until he’s more comfortable.

“Oh my god, this is so good,” TK groans out, taking another bite. Carlos takes a bite of his own, just to give himself something to do. “I didn’t realize how hungry I was.”

That raises a question that Carlos didn’t even realize he had until now. “You’ve been here all night, did you even eat dinner?”

TK stares over at him, a guilty expression on his face. “I forgot?” 

“TK--”

“In my defense, I’m completely swamped with homework, which makes me a little anxious sometimes. I skip a lot of meals, it’s not a big deal.”

Carlos clenches his jaw, not wanting to make a fuss out of something that’s not his business. “Do you want me to make you something? We’ve got sandwiches, I could heat one up for you.”

He rises from the couch, already planning to go raid the walk-in and see what’s available, but TK stops him with a gentle hand on his wrist. It’s the first time they’ve touched since the night of the party, and Carlos feels the way electricity courses through his entire body. 

“I’m okay,” TK says, when Carlos finally turns back towards him. He let’s go of his wrist when he realizes Carlos is staying put. “I should probably leave anyway, since you guys are closing soon.”

Carlos looks around, noticing that there are only a few people left in the coffee shop. Grace is already cleaning off the empty tables, and Carlos realizes that he must have taken a longer break than he planned. Still, he doesn’t want to say goodbye to TK just yet.

“Have you started your English assignment yet?” Carlos asks out of nowhere, watching as TK’s eyes widen at the sudden question.

“No, I still have to finish the reading,” TK admits, tilting his head in confusion.

“Me too,” Carlos says, taking a step closer. “Maybe we could… work on it together?”

There’s a moment where he holds his breath, waiting to see if TK will pick up on his hint. He doesn't want to be too forward, but he really wants another chance to see TK outside of school and the cafe. 

“Yeah,” TK finally admits, a small smile appearing at the corner of his mouth. “Maybe I could… hang around until you get off? I know a certain fire captain’s house where you can get an awesome grilled cheese sandwich at this hour.”

Carlos lets out a breath, his heart racing at the suggestion. He’s glad to see that they’re already on the same wavelength.

“I’ll need to check with my mom first, make sure it’s okay,” he says, twisting his fingers together. 

“Yeah, of course,” TK says, giving him a nod as his eyes shine in the lamp lights. “It’s a date: you, me, grilled cheese, and Hamlet.”

Carlos feels his heart nearly explode in his chest at TK’s word choice, but instead of verbally freaking out about it, he just gives him a quick nod before he’s rushing back to the counter to grab his phone. 

A few minutes later, after a very hurried call with his mother, who sternly tells him to be home by 11, he’s enthusiastically helping Grace flip the chairs in the dining area, his gaze continuously pulled towards his cute, brown-haired study date waiting for him in the corner of the room.

Carlos tries his best to ignore the knowing smirk that Grace gives him the entire time.

☕☕☕☕

When TK wakes up, there are a number of things that he notices right away.

For one, he seems to have fallen asleep in his jeans, which are now bunched up around his hips. He also seems to be sitting up, which is definitely not his preferred sleeping position, and he’s about to open his eyes to try and figure why he fell asleep in such an uncomfortable way, when he realizes that he’s not alone.

There’s a slight pressure running along his back and against his hip, as well as a weight pressing down on top of his head. Under his cheek, he feels soft fabric, which he thought was just his pillowcase, but now he realizes that whatever’s underneath the fabric is much more firm than any of his pillows. When he inhales deeply, he recognizes the familiar scent of coffee, laundry detergent, and a smell that he associates with only one other person.

He opens his eyes slowly, hardly daring to breathe. Beneath him, he watches as Carlos’s broad chest rises and falls as he sleeps peacefully. TK’s not sure how they got into this situation, but he’s folded himself into Carlos’s side, his head resting on his shoulder near his neck, his left hand thrown across his waist. Carlos has wrapped an arm around him, holding him close, as he rests his head on top of TK’s. It might not be the most comfortable position for either of them, but the intimacy of it thrills him, and without even thinking, he turns his face to bury himself further into Carlos’s neck, a contented sigh rising up his throat.

TK shuts his eyes, planning to just fall back to sleep in Carlos’s arms, when he hears someone clear their throat pointedly. He freezes, recognizing the sound, before quickly pulling away from Carlos to look towards his dad, who is standing in the doorway to their living room.

“Dad, you’re home! I--” TK begins, but before he can try to explain, he hears a soft groan next to him. He feels Carlos’s arm tighten around him as the boy shifts closer, his face pressing into the space under TK’s chin. 

“Wait, TK, don’t go anywhere,” Carlos mumbles, clearly still asleep, and TK flushes at both his words and his actions, watching as his dad’s eyes widen at their new positions.

“Carlos,” TK says gently into his ear, shaking him a bit. “Carlos, wake up.”

TK can tell the minute Carlos realizes that he’s not dreaming; he freezes for a second before suddenly pulling away completely. TK watches as he blinks rapidly, his eyes darting around the room as he figures out where he is and what’s going on. At the sight of his dad in the far corner of the room, Carlos jumps to his feet, straightening his clothes as he stands straight. From his position on the couch next to him, TK can see his hands shaking.

“Captain Strand,” Carlos huffs out, his voice trembling with nerves. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

TK can’t help but to admire how, even in a terrifying moment like this, Carlos is still so polite and respectful. He rises from the couch, bringing a hand up to grip Carlos’s shoulder in support.

“Dad, I wasn’t expecting you home yet,” TK says, and he feels the way Carlos relaxes slightly now that he’s taking over the conversation. “I thought you worked until 11 tonight.”

His dad’s expression changes to one of confusion as he stares at both of them. Then, he’s lifting up his arm to point at his wristwatch. “TK, it’s almost midnight.”

The change is almost instantaneous. One moment, Carlos is standing next to him, and then the next, he’s diving for his phone on the table next to them, a loud sound of distress pouring out of him when he confirms the time. 

“Oh my god, no,” Carlos says, his attention focused on his phone. He brings it up to his ear, his hand shaking so bad that TK worries that he might drop it. The minute the call connects, Carlos’s face crumbles.

“Mami, Mami,” he says quickly, his breathing labored as he runs his free hand through his curls. He continues the conversation in Spanish, his voice high and strained, turning his back on TK and his dad to face the wall. 

TK may be in his fourth year of Spanish, but that doesn’t mean much, and it’s clear that Carlos wants a bit of privacy, so he doesn’t try to figure out what he’s saying. He struggles to remember their conversation from earlier, his brain cutting back to Carlos telling him he had to be home by 11, and that thought spurs him into action.

As quickly as possible, he gathers all of Carlos’s things that are spread out on the table from their study session, reaching for his backpack on the floor. He pulls out a jacket that Carlos has inside, knowing that it’s probably much cooler outside than it was nearly 3 hours ago. He looks around to make sure that he’s got everything, and when he’s sure he does, he turns back to Carlos, who still has his back to him.

He takes in the tense set of his friend’s shoulders, how they’re raised so high that he can barely see his neck. Carlos is pacing now, his hand pressed to his face as he speaks to his mom; TK knows that he’s trying to appear calm, he can tell by the way he’s keeping his voice as steady as possible. After a few more seconds, he hangs up the call, and TK watches as a small sob rolls through his body, Carlos all but curling in on himself at the weight of the stress. 

“Carlos…” TK starts hesitantly, coming up behind him. Carlos turns towards him immediately, his eyes shining with tears.

“She was so scared,” he cries out, and TK closes the distance between them to pull him into a hug, his hands coming up to rub against his back. Carlos holds him back, clearly needing TK to help him remain standing. “It’s been almost an hour, and she didn’t know anything, and I put her through that.”

“Hey, it’s okay,” TK says soothingly, squeezing Carlos tighter. “We fell asleep, it was an accident. She knows you’re okay now, and you can explain everything to her when you get home. So, let’s get you home, okay?” 

Carlos nods, letting out a labored breath, and TK pulls away to hand him his jacket. While Carlos puts it on, TK reaches for his phone and his keys, but he’s stopped by his dad speaking for the first time since revealing the time.

“I’ll drive you home, Carlos,” he says, and TK looks up to find him giving Carlos a sympathetic, comforting look.

“Dad, it’s okay, I can--”

“No, TK. It’s midnight on a school night, you need to go to bed,” his dad cuts him off, voice firm. “End of discussion.”

TK turns back to Carlos, noticing how he isn’t really present in the moment. His brows are still furrowed, eyes a little wild, and there’s a tear track down his cheek. TK grabs his backpack, handing it over to him, and then, because it’s something he really wants to do, he pulls Carlos into another quick hug.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” he whispers in his ear, turning his face slighting to touch his lips to Carlos’s overheated skin. It’s not really meant to be a kiss, and Carlos doesn’t seem to notice it anyway. He merely nods again before he’s rushing out of the room. With one last look his way, TK watches as his dad turns to follow him, the front door closing firmly behind him.

TK is alone for about 30 minutes, and he doesn’t stay still for a single second of that time. After he paces in front of the window, watching as his dad’s truck pulls out of the drive, he turns back to the living room, moving to gather all of his school work back into his backpack. He’ll just have to finish his English homework during his free period tomorrow. He grabs the plates and cups that he and Carlos used for dinner, taking them into the kitchen. He finishes loading the dishwasher, pressing start to run it. The gentle sound fills the quiet space as TK roams around the room, trying to figure out what to do next.

He heads upstairs to change for bed, switching his jeans for a pair of comfy sweatpants. He hesitates for just a moment before grabbing the soft green t-shirt from his desk chair, pulling it on. It still fits loosely over his torso, and no longer smells like coffee and Carlos’s laundry detergent, but he doesn’t care; it’s the closest he can be to the other guy right now, and feeling close to him is all he wants. 

He heads into the bathroom, getting ready for bed, his mind spinning back to the evening and the time they spent together before falling asleep. When they had first arrived at his house, TK had immediately led Carlos to the kitchen, pulling out all of the ingredients that he needed for grilled cheese sandwiches. As he stood at the stove, toasting the bread and waiting for the cheese to melt, he and Carlos had talked. Carlos shared his love of cooking, talking about how he and his mom would make dinner together as often as possible; he got a faraway look in his eyes as he spoke, his affection for his mother clear-as-day, and TK swears he fell more in love with him at that moment.

As he stands in front of his bathroom mirror, toothbrush dangling from his mouth, TK realizes that what he feels for Carlos is more than just a high school crush. He was with Alex for almost two years, the two of them getting together early freshman year, and he never felt even a fraction of what he feels when he’s with Carlos during that time. It doesn’t matter where they are - school, the cafe, his kitchen, or a sidewalk - he can’t help but feel drawn to him. He wakes up every morning from dreams about Carlos’s bright smile and kind eyes, and he falls asleep every night imagining his strong arms wrapped around him, holding TK like he’s something precious and valued.

He’s startled out of his daze by the sound of the front door opening. He quickly spits out his toothpaste and rinses his mouth out before he takes the stairs two at a time, finding his dad in the kitchen.

“Mrs. Reyes sent me home with some empanadas,” he says, opening the fridge to find a place for them. He doesn’t seem at all surprised to find TK still awake.

“Is he okay?” TK asks, his worry for Carlos rearing up again now that his dad’s back.

“He’s fine, TK,” his dad assures him, giving him a gentle look. “His mom was worried sick, but very happy to see him, and I explained the whole situation to her. I think they’ll both be okay.”

TK lets out a sigh of relief, his heart hammering in his chest. “He was so scared,” he whispers, his voice trembling at the memory of Carlos breaking down in front of them.

His dad must see something on his face, because he comes up to TK and pulls him into a solid hug. TK sinks into his embrace, feeling protected the way he always does when his dad holds him like this. 

“He’s a good kid, and he clearly cares a lot about his mom,” his dad confirms. “He spent the entire drive there on edge, and he didn’t relax until he was able to give her a hug.”

“His dad was a police officer,” TK explains, the pieces coming together in his mind. “He died in a car accident while on-duty.”

“Oh,” his dad says, and nothing more. TK knows they’re both thinking the same thing; growing up in the home of a first responder means living with a certain fear that never really goes away.

After a moment, TK pulls away, looking down at his feet. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you I was having someone over. It was kind of sudden, and he wasn’t supposed to be here so late.”

“I’m not mad, TK,” his dad tells him, bringing his hand up to cup the back of TK’s neck gently. “You’re 18, and you’ve spent a long time learning to take care of yourself. I trust you.”

TK nods, a small weight lifting off his chest.

“I know I was never crazy about Alex,” his dad continues, “but Carlos seems like a really good guy. You didn’t have to keep him a secret from me.”

TK freezes, his mouth dropping open in slight shock at his dad’s implication. “I’m not d-dating Carlos, Dad,” he stutters out in a hurried breath.

“Oh, really?” his dad questions, and TK spots a twinkle in his eye. “Well, I don’t think either of you have gotten the memo on that one, so you should probably talk that out at some point,” he teases, stepping away to leave the room, probably to head upstairs. 

TK quickly follows after him, his heart pounding in his chest. “Hey, Dad,” he calls out, watching as he pauses on the stairs to turn back towards him. “Do you think it’s possible to meet your forever person in high school?”

It’s a fear that he can’t shake; he knows that most high school relationships end soon after graduation, and the idea that that could happen for him and Carlos if they started something in the last months of high school sometimes keeps him awake at night. The last thing he wants to do is lose him when he just got him back.

His dad gives him a serious look, almost as if he can hear TK’s thoughts. “I think a relationship takes a lot of work, no matter how old you are,” he begins, his face shifting into an expression of sympathy. “When you’re younger and you know less about yourself and the world around you, it can be more challenging. People don’t always expect to change so much, and that can be hard on a couple.”

TK nods, biting his bottom lip as he glances down at his feet again.

“If you want my advice? Don’t think of someone as your forever person,” his dad finishes. “Most people struggle to live up to that kind of pressure. If you’re going to be with someone, it should be because they matter to you at that moment. Now, that doesn’t mean that, if two people change, they will stop mattering to one another. People can grow together, but they’ve got to allow each other to do that. Don’t get lost in the idea of a lifetime and lose sight of the individual moments that make up life, TK.”

TK glances back up when he hears his dad begin to climb the stairs again. “Thanks, Dad,” he gets out before he can disappear.

“Oh, and TK?” his dad calls down from the top of the stairs. “If you’re not telling Carlos how you really feel because you’re afraid it won’t last, I don’t think you’re being fair to yourself or to him. You’ve gotta give yourself a chance to see what you can become together, and you can’t be scared of that.”

With that, his dad turns into his bedroom, closing the door behind him, and TK is left to mull over every thought that he has had about Carlos in the past two weeks. 

When he finally drifts off to sleep around two in the morning, completely exhausted, he’s made a decision about what he truly wants.

He wants Carlos. 

☕☕☕☕

Carlos doesn’t go to school the next day. 

HIs panic attack from the night before leaves him physically and emotionally drained, and when he wakes up, he feels like he’s in a daze. He must look pretty pathetic, because when his mom sees him she sends him straight back to bed, already picking up the phone to call his school.

He wakes up again around 11, feeling better. He also has a text waiting for him on his phone, from TK. Before he even opens it to read what it says, he feels his heart racing.

Sorry again for what happened last night. I hope you’re okay.

Carlos has no idea what he did to deserve having someone like TK in his life. Their history might be rocky, and they may have had to wipe the slate clean to find their way to where they are now, but Carlos wouldn’t trade a single moment of that for the entire world.

He shoots back a quick text letting TK know that he’s fine, just not feeling very well. Then, before he can spend the entire day hovering over his phone like a lovesick idiot, he puts it on silent and gets out of bed. 

Most of his day consists of him roaming around the house, finding ways to stay busy; he does some laundry, cleans the kitchen and living room, sweeps the floors. After lunch, he finishes up his homework from last night just so that he doesn’t have to think about it over the weekend. When he’s feeling restless, he decides to go for a run. It helps to clear his mind of all of his lingering panic and worry, which just leaves him with overwhelming thoughts about one person in particular. 

He was so caught up in fear and guilt over what he put his mother through, that he didn’t even get a chance to process what all happened last night. Carlos has dreamed of waking up with TK in his arms so many nights that he’s lost count, which is why he initially had such a hard time believing that it had actually happened. But, it did. They had fallen asleep on the couch and cuddled together, and it was the best feeling in the entire world. If he remembers hard enough, he can still smell TK’s hair from when he used it as a pillow, he can still feel the weight of TK’s arm around his waist. It may have been an incredibly uncomfortable position to rest, but it was the best sleep that Carlos has ever had.

He thinks back to before then, when they sat next to one another reading Shakespeare, their knees pressed together as they each read lines and talked about the characters. TK had a lot of opinions about Hamlet’s constant overthinking and hesitation, and Carlos loved listening to him rant about how the play could’ve been so much shorter if someone else had been given the revenge task. He definitely remembers laughing in the middle of one of those rants, and TK’s look of absolute betrayal will stay with him for the rest of his life.

Later than evening, he’s helping his mother with dinner, his thoughts wandering back to TK making them grilled cheeses the night before, when she cuts through his mental daydreaming about how perfect it would be to relive last night all over again, minus breaking his curfew.

“You’re thinking about that boy again, mijo,” she says, looking up at him with what can only be described as fond exasperation. He feels his face flush as he sautés the peppers in the skillet in front of him.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he responds, his voice thin. She just huffs out a laugh.

“You have this look that you get sometimes, like you’re off on some other planet,” his mom explains, bringing a hand up to caress his cheek. “I didn’t know what it was before, but I think I do now.”

Carlos remains silent, waiting for her to ask the question that he knows is coming. Sure enough, it doesn’t take long for her to voice it.

“Is it the fire captain’s son?” 

He hesitates just a moment before he turns to look at her, answering her question with a nod.

“Oh, mijo,” she says, a smile taking over her face as she brings her other hand up, holding his face between her palms. “If he’s anything like his dad, I bet he’s adorable.”

He can’t help but let out a laugh; he could tell his mom was a little taken aback by Captain Strand showing up with him last night, still dressed in his uniform.  

“He’s beautiful, Mami,” he breathes out, the dam breaking on all of his thoughts. “He has these pretty green eyes that just shine so bright, and he’s so smart and passionate and caring. I just feel so happy every time I’m near him.”

His mom nods along as he rambles on and on, clearly enjoying the image that he’s painting of TK. When he pauses for a breath, she brings a hand down to place over his heart, smiling up at him.

“Have you told this boy how you feel?” she asks. 

Her words send a shiver down his spine, his heart beating as he considers her question. It only requires a simple, one-word answer, but underneath there’s a whole layer of him figuring out how he actually feels for TK, a process that he’s gone through so many times in the past few weeks it’s becoming ritualistic.

He thinks about last night, how TK had been right by his side during his moment of panic. He thinks about how TK took him in his arms, holding him in one piece and helping to bring him back from the edge. He thinks about how he had cared for Carlos when he needed him the most, how he had texted him this morning to apologize and make sure he was okay. Those memories mix with all of the ones from before, and Carlos feels his heart solidifying inside of him, almost as if it had been waiting for this moment of realization.

He’s completely, hopelessly in love with TK Strand.

His face must show some sign of that truth, because his mother moves forward to pull him into her arms. He immediately wraps his own around her shoulders, holding her tight, as he feels a light growing inside of him. 

“Oh, mijo,” she says against his chest, “I’m so happy for you. I always wanted you to find someone special.”

He buries his face in her hair, pressing a kiss there, before letting out a joyful laugh. He stares up at the ceiling, trying to blink back the unwanted tears that are forming. When they pull apart, his mother takes his face in her hands again, forcing him to look at her.

“You have to tell him, cariño,” she says sternly, her eyes ablaze with a fire that surprises him. “Time is precious, and you can’t waste it. Hold him close for as long as you can.”

She speaks with the weight of someone who knows what it’s like to not have enough time. He thinks about his dad, and the conversation that he and TK had on the porch swing about their plans for the future. He knows what a relationship with TK would mean, especially if it lasts as long as he would like it to, but he doesn’t care. TK is worth it. 

“I will, Mami,” he assures her, leaning in to press a kiss to her forehead. “Te prometo.”

☕☕☕☕

TK can’t bring himself to walk through the door.

He’s done it a hundred times before, he knows what’s waiting for him inside, but he can’t do it. When he fell asleep two nights ago, he felt an intense certainty inside of him, and when he woke up on Friday morning, he was relieved to find that it hadn’t abated. He knew what he wanted, and he was ready to put himself out there, no matter the outcome.

But then, Carlos had been absent from school, and doubts started to fill his mind. TK wasn’t narcissistic enough to think that Carlos missing school was entirely about him; after all, it was an intense night for him, and he’s sure that had an effect on Carlos’s sleep and health. TK firmly believed him when he texted that he wasn’t feeling well, but the longer he went without seeing his friend, the less certain he felt about making a move.

Now, he’s been standing outside for ten minutes, peering into the window like a crazed stalker. He’s already spotted Carlos, he and Grace involved in what appears to be an intense conversation with Judd, Grace’s boyfriend, across the counter. The cafe isn’t too busy for a mid-Saturday morning, and it’s a bright, beautiful Texas day. The conditions could not be more perfect for a revelatory day, and yet TK can’t walk through the door.

“How long are we going to stand out here?” Marjan finally says from behind him, and he turns to see her leaning against the brick wall of the shop next door. She looks up from her phone to give him a gentle smile. “I’m just saying, I could really use a tea right now.”

“TK, talk to us, what’s scaring you?” Paul asks at her side, his arms crossed over his chest as he stares at him with a calculated look. “You’re just asking him on a date.”

“But what if he says no?” TK whispers, his fear pushing his heart into his throat. “What if I ruin everything and we go back to barely talking to each other? What if now isn’t the right time?” 

Paul and Marjan share a quick look before they’re pushing off the wall. They wrap him in a group hug, their arms tight around him. He allows himself to take a breath, trying to calm down. 

“You love him, right?” Marjan asks, pulling away at his nod. “Then you have to tell him, TK. Keeping something like that secret will do more damage to your friendship than telling him to the truth.” 

“You’re joining the fire academy in just a few months,” Paul adds, gripping his shoulder. “You love to take risks. And loving someone is risky, so you might as well jump now. Besides, I’ll eat my own hand if he says no to you.”

TK nods, taking in their advice. He can do this. He can be honest with Carlos, and he can face the outcome. He knows Carlos, and he knows that no matter what the other guy says, he won’t hurt him. He won’t be mean or laugh at him. That’s not who Carlos is, and TK can’t decide how he’ll react before he actually faces him; it’s not fair to him.

He pulls the straps of his backpack tighter as he turns towards the door, and with another deep breath, he heads inside.

Like every time before, there’s a moment where he and Carlos lock eyes from across the room, and like every time before, TK feels a warmth blanket his entire body as he stares into his favorite pair of soft brown eyes. He doesn’t pause today, too amped up to do so, so he just moves forward towards the register to place his order.

“Hey, TK,” Grace says, a mysterious twinkle in her eyes. “You want your usual?”

“Yeah, thanks,” he says, careful to avoid looking in the direction of the barista station. He’s already worried that his voice will give out, and he’s not really looking forward to that embarrassment so early in the morning.

“Anything else?” Grace asks, a smile growing on her lips as she takes in his nervous fidgeting. 

“Actually, could I get a chocolate chip cookie, too?” he says, watching as her eyebrows raise. He knows he’s going off-script a bit, but when he glances over at Carlos to see the man looking down at an order he’s completing with a quiet smile on his face, he knows he made the right move. Baby steps.

“Sure, we’ll bring those out to you when your drink’s ready,” Grace answers, and TK quickly pays, slipping a few dollars into the tip jar next to him. Then, he cuts down to the end of the counter, swinging his bag around to reach inside.

“Hey,” he says softly, Carlos immediately looking up at him, a blush rising on his cheeks. He looks so adorable, and TK almost whines in desperation, but he holds it back at the last second. “I, um, I brought your English and science assignments from yesterday.” He holds out the papers across the counter, noticing out of the corner of his eye when Judd looks up from his phone at the bar counter, staring at the two of them with interest.

Carlos stares down at the assignments for a moment before he wipes his hands down the front of his apron, reaching out to grab them as he looks back up at TK. “Thank you,” he says quietly, his eyes shining. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“It’s no big deal,” TK rushes to say, his voice a little strained. “I was hoping I would see you before Monday, so I thought it made the most sense.”

Carlos nods, his mouth dropping open for a moment. He huffs out a breath, shaking his head. “I was hoping to see you, too.”

TK knows that he could ask Carlos now, while they’re standing here, but he feels Judd’s eyes on him and he doesn’t want a direct audience. So, instead, he asks, “Can we talk, whenever you have a moment free?”

Carlos visibly swallows across from him, his eyebrows rising at the question. “Y-yeah,” he stutters out, nodding. “I can come find you on my break?”

TK nods, backing away to let Carlos get back to work. “I’ll be here,” he assures him, sending a soft smile his way. Then, he turns away, rushing over to the couch where Paul and Marjan are already seated.

“Oh my god,” he says, his face on fire as he throws himself onto the couch, sinking into the cushion.

“Did you ask him?” Marjan asks, tapping his leg excitedly.

“We’re going to talk on his break,” he says, feeling an overwhelming desire to throw up. There’s no going back now, and he knows he doesn’t want to, but he feels like he’s completely lost control of this speeding train. 

“Well that’s good,” Paul says, reaching for his phone. “No distractions, just the two of you, that’s good.”

TK nods, running his hands over his face as he tries to relax. He dares to peek through his fingers, his gaze pulled back towards the counter like usual.

Carlos has his back to him, looking down at Grace standing in front of him. He can’t really see her, but when she shifts to the side, he notices what can only be described as a look of encouragement as she speaks. Judd seems to be involved in the conversation as well, TK watching as he leans forward to say something. TK can’t hear him, but Grace seems to agree with him, gesturing towards her boyfriend in a way that tells TK they are on the same side of whatever conversation they’re having with their friend.

Carlos turns back towards the front, and TK watches as he finishes the toppings on a drink, a focused look on his face. Grace stands at his side in silent support, and when Carlos loads a few drinks onto a tray, TK watches as she rises up to press a kiss against his cheek, patting him on the back as Carlos circles around the counter.

He doesn’t realize that Carlos is moving towards their corner until he’s only a few tables away. TK sits up straight, an unexpectedly nervous energy coursing through him; Carlos doesn’t seem to notice, keeping his eyes on the tray as he moves through the dining area. He finally reaches them, setting the drinks down on the low table in front of them. 

“One chai,” he says, handing Marjan her drink. “One dark roast with cream and sugar,” he continues, and Paul takes his cup. “And one mocha latte with two pumps of caramel,” he finishes, placing a mug down in front of TK. 

He can’t pull his eyes away from Carlos’s face, watching as he stands up straight, a blush turning his entire face bright red as he bites down on his lip. TK opens his mouth to say thank you, but before he can do so, he hears a sharp gasp from beside him. He quickly turns to look at Marjan, noticing how her eyes are on the table in front of them, and he follows her gaze to see what caused such a reaction from her.

Sitting in front of him is his usual order, except this time there’s something different about it. Normally the chocolate and caramel syrup is added in a zig-zap pattern on top of the whipped cream, but today Carlos has chosen a different design. He can see, even from where he’s sitting back on the couch, the shape of a heart, clearly made by a well-practiced hand.

The sound is sucked from the room as he stares down at the cup, a buzzing white noise filling his ears as he struggles to keep breathing. Slowly, hoping not to break the spell, he raises his eyes to look up at Carlos. The barista stares back at him openly, his eyes wide, and TK feels all of his doubts disappear as he realizes that Carlos is offering him his heart, literally, on a tray. TK can see the fear behind his eyes, and that more than anything spurs him to action.

He jumps up from the couch, ignoring everyone and everything around them as he rushes towards Carlos, and he doesn’t waste a moment before diving forward to connect their lips in a long-awaited, bruising first kiss.

Initially, Carlos doesn’t respond, freezing against him, and TK fears he’s made a huge mistake. He goes to pull back, an apology already rising in his throat, but Carlos doesn’t let him get that far. He opens his mouth slightly, adjusting to slot their lips together, and TK’s whole body collapses against him.

TK has always been a hopeless romantic, and as soon as he gave in to his crush, more than a year ago, he began to dream about what it would be like to kiss Carlos. He’s laid in bed at night, his eyes closed, imagining how they would fit together, how they would hold one other. He’s had a lot of kisses in his life to draw from, so he thought he had a pretty good idea of what to expect. 

He realizes now, as Carlos brings his hands up to press against his back, holding him closer, that he set the bar too low. As he brings his arms up around Carlos’s neck, his fingers gliding through his short hair at the back of his neck, he gets lost in the feeling of Carlos’s soft lips against his, the enthusiasm that the other man puts into kissing him taking his breath away.

Kissing Carlos feels like everything, all at once. It feels like breaking through the surface of the water after a deep dive; it feels like climbing to the highest point of the tallest mountain in the world, the freedom and fear climaxing simultaneously. With Carlos, kissing doesn’t feel like a part of something, a first step; it feels like the whole thing, every overwhelming part. It changes him to his core, every molecule inside of him biologically altered at the first taste of this man, this wonderful, glorious man. TK doesn’t know how he will ever go another day without kissing Carlos, thinking such an absence might be the end of him.

Physically, they have to break apart eventually, TK feeling light-headed without enough oxygen reaching his brain. Their lips separate, but no other part of them disconnects. They press their foreheads together, their noses rubbing against each other as they both struggle to catch their breath, and TK’s heart nearly bursts from the intimacy of their embrace.

Eventually, he’s reminded of their very public location when the bell on the front door rings out, signaling a new customer. TK huffs out a guilty laugh, feeling Carlos’s overheated skin against his cheek. 

“I’m so sorry for kissing you at work, but I couldn’t wait another second,” he whispers, his voice cracking from the power of their kiss. 

Carlos huffs out a laugh too, and TK can feel his warm breath on his face. “Don’t be sorry,” he says, his voice also affected, “I wanted you to kiss me.”

TK can’t help but to press forward again, reclaiming his lips for a second time. They keep it light, both fully aware how inappropriate their behavior is, but not being able to stop it. Now that they’ve broken through the barrier between them, it feels impossible to let go.

When they break the second kiss, they move back enough to see one another. TK can’t help but to let out a gasp at Carlos’s kiss-bruised lips, bright red in the soft light from the corner lamp. His cheeks are just as red and his pupils are blown wide, his brown irises nearly completely hidden around them. He looks so fucking hot, and TK can’t quiet believe that it’s all because of him.

“I really, really like you, Carlos,” he admits, gliding his fingers along the back of his neck. He feels Carlos shiver at the touch, bringing one of his hands up to cup his face, rubbing his thumb against his cheek.

“I way, way more than like you, TK,” Carlos confesses, and TK feels his hand shake against him.

TK isn’t expecting the tears that suddenly appear in his eyes, a smile taking up every inch of his face. “Really?” he gasps out, his voice muffled by what might be a sob.

Carlos’s face settles into an expression of soft affection, and TK thinks he might spot tears in his eyes, too. “Really,” he nods, his face open and warm.

TK moves to pull him into a tight hug, his heart demanding less space between them as he hooks his chin over Carlos’s shoulder. Carlos tucks his face into his neck, and TK swears he can feel those soft lips press against his skin. The sensation sends a chill through his entire body.

“I should probably get back to work before Grace fires me,” Carlos sighs after a minute, pulling away. TK watches as he reaches down to grab the tray, giving TK’s hand a gentle squeeze as he moves to return to the counter.

“Do you want to go on a date with me?” TK blurts out the question, startling even himself, but he can’t be embarrassed about asking it, not now. 

Carlos turns back to him, a beautiful smile taking over his face. He quickly returns to TK’s side, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“I want to go on a lot of dates with you,” he says, casually linking their fingers together. 

TK’s mouth drops open at the unfiltered honesty, tightening his grip on Carlos’s hand.

“How about tonight?” TK offers, wanting to spend time alone with Carlos as soon as possible.

“Yeah, tonight would be perfect,” Carlos agrees, and TK watches as a smirk transforms his face. “Can I make a request though?”

“Of course, anything.”

“Can we go somewhere other than a coffee shop?” Carlos teases, his eyes shining with laughter. “I’ll admit, I don’t really care for the taste that much.”

An unconfined laugh bubbles up from TK’s throat, cutting through the space between them. Carlos presses a final kiss to his lips, their smiles making it a little difficult, before he backs away, returning to work. 

TK brings a hand up to his lips, feeling as if the ghost of their kisses will be imprinted on him for the rest of his life. His mind races with all of the possibilities of what they’ll become together, both tonight and all of the nights to come.

They are TK and Carlos, and their story is only just beginning. 

☕☕☕☕

[bobasheebaby]

Phoenix Found: Interviewing the Heir [Fluffy ABC’s]- Cordonian Ruby

Pairing: Ruby Rys x Beau Larkin; Ana DeLuca

Word count: 3,493

Warnings: pure mushy sweetness that will rot your teeth it’s all fluff

Summary: Ruby and Beau are interviewed by Ana.

A/N: Based off of @pixelburied’s fluffy ABC’s. Modeling after @blackcatkita’s Ana DeLuca interviews. With the entire country thinking the heir dead and her returning with a spouse I thought the best way to really introduce them to the public would be a sweet fluffy Ana DeLuca interview.

A/N2: A major thanks @sirbeepsalot for all your graping and prereading. I love you boo! Thank you to my snippet readers @loveellamae and @burnsoslow​ who screamed appropriately.

A/N3: I know this is so incredibly late and I have no excuse other than I’ve been in a crazy funk and even just pushing ‘post’ was far too much for me.

Series warnings: character death, blood, surgical procedures done by non medical personnel, may go NSFW in the future. May contain gun violence, knife violence, threats, not sure how dark this will go. By requesting to be tagged you acknowledge you are at least 18 years of age.

Let me know if you want to be added or removed from the taglist.

Disclaimer: I own Ruby, Galen, Lovett, and Beau, I’m borrowing Bastien and Olivia from PB.

A – Anger (What was their first fight about? Any big or recurring arguments?)

Ana DeLuca smiled as she sat, smoothing out her charcoal pencil skirt.

When she had first received the call from the blocked number she was positive it was nothing more than a cruel prank. By the end of that call she was one of few trusted with a secret that would change everything in Cordonia.

She stared at Ruby seated across from her, her blonde hair pulled back in a perfect braided chignon, hands folded neared in her lap. She was truly an understated vision in ivory lace shift dress.

Ana was blown away with the grace and dignity she portrayed at twenty one years of age. The way she’d greeted her and politely objected to any use of titles for both herself and her husband was impressive, looking at her now she could almost believe she had been raised in the palace instead of on the run.

Beau, Ruby’s husband and true prince regent sat next to her looking slightly less comfortable than Ruby. He didn’t look out of place per say, but the slight grimace in his smile wasn’t lost to Ana. She looked down at her tablet, quickly reading over her encrypted and password protected notes taking note they’d come from Texas; it was likely that Beau was new to the world he was thrown into. She didn’t doubt that Liam’s daughter hadn’t be able to find someone who could adapt quickly to the new life and media circus that came with it.

“Your Ma— Ruby, Beau, I’d like to once again extend my gratitude to your willingness to speak to me and allow the readers and country get a glimpse into your life.”

“Please Ms DeLuca, don’t mention it. We are honored that the same woman who interviewed my parents would be interviewing us, and traveling outside of Cordonia to do it to boot.”

Ana nodded, making a note that the country’s true queen was as modest and kind as her father and mother had been. “Please tell our readers what your first fight was about, do you have any big or recurring arguments?”

Ruby smiled, glancing at Beau, “we don’t really argue, mostly it’s just small disagreements over things that really don’t matter.

It’s usually just silly things that are easily resolved and soon forgotten.”

B – Best (What would they say is the other’s best trait?)

“What would you say is the best trait your partner possesses.” Ana queried.

“Her selflessness,” Beau said, taking her hand into his, “she was ready to break up with me so I wouldn’t have to leave my family behind.

She doesn’t like to cause anyone else pain, unless it’s on the mat, she would endure every ounce of pain so others wouldn’t have to if she could.”

“His kind and understanding heart. He listens without judgement. I don’t think there is anything I haven’t been able to tell him over five years together.”

C – Camera (How do they document their relationships? Who likes to take pictures? Or videos?)

“How do you document your relationship? Who takes the most pictures?” Ana asked.

“Beau for sure, I have a few selfies of us on my phone, a shot or two of just him. Mama and Papa didn’t really take a lot of pictures when I was growing up.”

“My parents took all the pictures and RuRu sometimes yells at me that I’m taking too many pictures.”

D – Dates (What are their dates like?)

“What do your dates look like?”

“They are pretty laid back, a picnic here and there, stargazing, he took me shooting a few times, we’ll do movie dates …”

“Movie dates at home, I learned the hard way you can’t take her to the movies.”

“Oh,” Ana arched one perfectly sculpted eyebrow, “why is that?”

Beau’s cheeks turned beet red as he realized her assumption, “nothing like that. She talks during movies, a lot, to the point we got kicked out.”

E – Early (What was the first month of dating like?)

“Please tell our readers what your first month of dating was like.” Ana requested.

“Oh god, it was awkward, at least to me.” Ruby replied, fighting the urge to bury her face in her hands.

“I was sixteen and Beau was seventeen, our first date he took me shooting on his grandparents farm.

I was tempted to downplay my skill but I didn’t.”

“She not only outshot me, she was better than my cousin’s too.

When I praised her ability she tried to deflect, something that she only did with me.”

“He called me out on it, told me I could be proud of what I could do. After that it got a little easier, but it was still nerve wracking for me.

Beau was my very first date. I was nervous as hell, but Beau was just so sweet and comforting that eventually I was dreading the day my parents would decide we needed to move and leave him behind.”

F – Friends (How is their relationship with each other’s group of friends?)

“What is your relationship with your partners friends? Do you get along with one another, or are you at odds with each other?” Ana questioned.

“I was still the new girl at school mostly sticking to myself when I met Beau. The other girls couldn’t understand why I’d purposely get sweaty so it was easier to stick to making friends at the dojo.”

“My friends were quickly won over. I think they were more afraid of Ruby kicking their ass than me if they didn’t.

But they get along well, they teased us both equally for marrying so quickly.

Thomas, my best friend, feigned being hurt that she never gave him a chance to steal her away.”

G – Gifts (Do they like giving each other gifts? What kind?)

“Do you enjoy giving each other unexpected gifts? If so what kind of things do you give each other?” Ana inquired.

“Beau gives me wildflowers out of the blue, just a few blooms, but every time I press them in a book to preserve them. I have enough that I could have used the pressed flowers for my wedding bouquet.”

“Wait, you saved them all?”

“Mmhmm, only my parents knew so when I saw that your mom incorporated pressed wildflowers into the place cards I was surprised at first.

Your mom also asked for all the ones I saved and said she’s going to use them for our wedding album.”

“I can’t believe you saved them all.”

Ruby shrugged, “they were gifts from you and I couldn’t bear to see them wither and die. Now they will live forever in our wedding album.”

H – Hugs (All things involving hugs)

Ana tapped her Stylus against her tablet as she looked at the next question. “Affection, how often do you hug one another?”

“Ruby is more of a cuddler than a hugger.”

“You are just so cozy. Beau tends to hug me from behind and rest his head on mine.”

“We aren’t overly affectionate, at least not in public, when we are at one of our houses though we are almost always touching in some way.”

I – Inside Jokes (Do they have any?)

“Do the two of you share any inside jokes?” Ana questioned.

“The only one that comes to mind includes Papa.

Beau accidentally cracked two of my ribs when we were doing duel training. So occasionally when Papa will hear Beau telling jokes he will say ‘jokes better be the only thing you’re cracking’ it’s so stupid but also funny because Beau felt so horrible after that he offered to allow me to crack his ribs.

I just brushed the injury off, if I could continue to compete with a broken nose and a bloody gi I could handle a few cracked ribs.”

J – Jealousy (Who gets jealous easier? How do they show their jealousy?)

“Who gets jealous the most often and how do you show it?” Ana asked.

Beau and Ruby shared a quick look. “I don’t think either of us has ever been jealous before.

I believe part of loving someone is trusting them. I love Beau more than anything and trust him with my life.

I truly feel if either of us ever did get jealous it would just mark the beginning of the end of us.”

K – Kiss (How do they kiss? Who usually initiates?)

“Next question, who is the one to initiate kisses more often?”

“I’d probably say Beau. He likes to kiss the top of my head, my forehead, just little reminders he loves me.”

L – Love (How do they first say those three words?)

“Love, please tell us, how did you tell the other and who said it first?” Ana requested.

“Beau did, we were stargazing in the back of his pickup truck and when he said it, I was surprised. Not because he loved me, but how nervous he was.

His palms were all sweaty and he probably was terrified I wouldn’t feel the same way, we were young, he was eighteen and I was still only seventeen.

When I said it back, he just stared at me stunned.

I don’t know why he was so shocked, he’s just this sweet, amazing guy.” Ruby tucked a stray blonde curl behind her ear. “It’s one of my favorite memories actually.”

M – Movies (What kinds of movies do they watch together? Is it a regular Netflix ritual?)

“What kind of movies do you enjoy together? Is Netflix a ritual for you?” Ana inquired.

“Beau hates watching movies with me. I’ve taken taekwondo since I was five years old and developed a passion for the martial art. I even wanted to be a stuntwoman when I was younger. I always point out any inaccuracies in the fighting scenes and it can be a lot sometimes.”

“Don’t hate watching movies with you, at least anymore. I certainly had to get used to how animated you get during action scenes, now I just think it’s cute.

Ruby likes action packed movies, I love thrillers or anything scary really. One time my younger sister AnnaBeth somehow convinced Ruby to watch some sappy chick flick, Ruby’s words, and it didn’t go well.

Mostly we just pick something that we can both enjoy and avoid the rom coms.”

N – Nicknames (Things they call each other)

“Do you have any nicknames for each other?” Ana asked.

“I call Ruby RuRu, she hates it. I only use it when she’s in her head or worrying it always makes her stop and laugh.”

“I don’t really have a nickname for him.”

“You called me honey bun.”

“Once and as a joke. I was hoping it would make him stop calling me RuRu, it didn’t.”

“You know you secretly love it RuRu.”

“I’m not dignifying that with an answer.”

O – One (Tell us about the moment they realized they were with the one.)

“Could you tell our readers the moment when you realized that your partner was the one?” Ana questioned.

“When I proposed to Ruby I told her that if I had to pinpoint exactly when she stole my heart it would probably be our first date.

When I actually realized it was much later. I actually think I realized how much I cared for her when I struck her too hard with the practice sword. She barely blinked even though you could tell it hurt like hell. I was so upset that I offered to let her injure me back.

I’m pretty sure it was then that I realized I would do anything for her, we’d only been together for a little over a year and were still young so I didn’t think about it too hard, but I just knew she would be the only woman I’d ever love.”

“I realized I loved you the same day.

You were so upset you hurt me, frantic and begging me to hit you back, I remember looking at you and just thinking that I couldn’t ever cause you harm, even accidental.

The way you worried and cared about me, I just knew I wouldn’t find anyone else I’d love the way I love you.”

P – Pizza (What is their favorite food to eat together?)

“That is just adorable.” Ana said, “what is your favorite food to eat together?”

“Ruby will eat just about anything. She’s never afraid to try something new.”

“Beau is more of a creature of habit, he will try new things but prefers his favorites. Pizza is something we share a lot, although he’s particular about his toppings.”

“Pineapple is not a pizza topping!”

“It is and it’s delicious.”

Q – Quit (Do they break up? Almost break up? What happened?)

“Was there ever a time when you broke up, or nearly broke up? What happened to make you question your relationship together?” Ana inquired.

“While I thought we would have to break up, we never did.

My parents moved us around a lot, Texas was the longest we ever stayed in one place. We moved there when I was fifteen and a half and we didn’t leave again until we came here.

My parents saw how happy Beau made me and decided that we were safe enough to stay.”

“You keep talking about moving around, how often did you do that?”

“Every two to three years or so.

When I was younger I found it exciting though I didn’t understand why we always had to move, now I know it was just to keep me hidden and safe.”

R – Rainy Days (How do they comfort each other on dark days?)

“How do you comfort each other on a dark and rainy day?” Ana asked.

“We just started living together since we left Texas. Mostly it would be little texts or if one of us was really down Beau would stop by.

We started keeping a pillow and blanket in the downstairs hall closet for when he stayed over. Sometimes I’d be in such a crappy mood that we’d fall asleep with him holding me, usually on the couch, sometimes in my bed.”

S – Soft (Something one of them did that turned the other into absolute mush)

“What is something your partner has done for you that turned you into mush?” Ana requested.

“Ruby very rarely turns to mush.”

“I really don’t,” Ruby nodded in agreement, “I’m not overly sentimental, with the exception of keeping all the wildflowers.

Your proposal, the way you refused to see my title as the end of us when all I could think about was that I couldn’t take you from your family, that turned me to mush.”

T – Texting (Do they text each other a lot? What do they usually talk about over the phone?)

“When you are apart how do you stay in touch, do you text or talk on the phone more often?”

“We started dating when we were still in high school so we spent a lot of time apart.”

“We’d send texts between classes if we couldn’t walk to the next class together.”

“We also sent a text at night if we couldn’t call.”

U – Unique (Tell us about some of their odd habits that surprised one another.)

“Do either of you have any unusual habits that may have caught the other off guard?” Ana questioned with a raised eyebrow.

“Well, we met in high school, most of the girls were all boy crazy and obsessed with the latest fashion. Ruby didn’t really care about what the other kids thought, she wore what she found comfortable, I’m pretty sure most of the time she had her hair up in a messy bun with zero makeup on and still blew all the other girls out of the water.

It was the way she didn’t allow all of the high school bullshit to change who she was that really surprised me.”

V – Vanity (Something they’re proud of in themselves and their partner)

“What is something that you are proud of in yourself and your partner?”

“The way Ruby will change her entire life just to help others.”

“Beau …”

“What? No one expected you to save an entire country, but you took on the problem without a second thought, you just care so much about people even those you haven’t met, I love that about you.”

W – Wedding (Tell us about your wedding head canon if they’ve gotten that far. Or if not, have they talked about it?)

“We know you got married before returning home, could you tell us a little about the ceremony?” Ana asked.

“It was small, very simple.”

“We held it on Beau’s grandparents farm. We were married outside under an arch of wildflowers. Only close friends and family.”

“My mom planned it.”

Ana’s piercing blue eyes widened in surprise. “You didn’t plan it together?”

“No, Mama Jo has been supportive of us going to Cordonia from the beginning, the only thing she wanted was for us to get married before we left. She knew that Beau and I would be busy trying to find any weakness to exploit so she offered to plan the wedding for us.

She took such care in weaving both of us into a laid back farm wedding — you could really see that she put all her love into planning our wedding for us.”

“Do you feel like you missed out by allowing Beau’s mother to plan it for you?”

“Absolutely not. She planned that wedding in a month, I never could have done that myself. Plus it was even more special, she really took in account both of our likes and wove them into this beautiful wedding.”

X – X (Something they hate about the other)

“Is there anything that bothers you about the other?” Ana questioned, poised to jot down the answer.

Ruby pursed her lips in thought, “Beau’s a little messy.”

“I’m not messy, you just like everything perfect and precise and I’m more casual in my cleaning.”

“I’ve seen your room! You have clothes all over the place!”

“I just forgot to put them away.”

“Oh so is that why our room in the suite looks like a hurricane came through on your side?”

“Okay, fine I’m messy. But you have to admit you are super organized and get upset if something picked something up and didn’t put it back exactly right.”

“You’re actually neater than Galen, if I can live with him living with you will be a cakewalk.”

Y – Youtube (What are they like online? Do they post about their relationship constantly?)

“You are both rather young, what is your online presence like? Do you post a lot about your relationship?”

“Ohmygod no. You would think that maybe having parents who constantly make sure your safe would make you rebel and go against them but I’m really a very private person.”

“Ruby doesn’t have any social media account. I have a private Instagram account that I barely use.”

Z – Zoo (Are they into animals? Do they want pets? What kind?)

“Okay, last question, what are your feelings on pets? Do you have any? Want pets? What kind of animal would be the perfect pet for you?”

“Ruby hates animals—”

“I don’t hate animals, I just don’t want a pet. Your golden retriever Sampson would be my only exception.

Mama and Papa never let us have any pets as children, and it never bothered me. I would probably go crazy with all the shedding.”

“Does that mean that the future princes or princesses will forgo pets?”

Ruby felt annoyance bubble up at the roundabout way Ana asked about having heirs. “We are still young, and while we do want to have a family some day we aren’t worried about it at the moment.

Personally I think the pressure put on all newly married or engaged couples to immediately have children to be ridiculous. The pressure put on royal couples is that much worse, everyone watching and waiting for that telltale bump, claiming the stability of the country is counting on a child.

My parents are proof that an heir doesn’t secure your country, they were killed because an egotistical tyrant who held a centuries old grudge couldn’t handle hearing ‘no’.

To answer your question about having pets, I would be perfectly content not having any, but I could probably be swayed to consider having one.”

“Thank you, it was wonderful to learn more about Cordonia’s heir and her husband. I’m sure our readers will love getting to know the long lost heir and her husband in such an intimate light.” Ana stated, gathering her things up to leave. She glanced down at her encrypted notes, in a few days time she would be releasing the story of the century ...

A/N: I would love to say the next chapter will be next week but I’ve been in a funk where I can’t be bothered to read or write so I can’t make any promises. I have finally been making some progress on the next chapter this past week and I hope it continues but no promises of when I’ll be posting.

Feedback fuels me, please like, comment reblog or send an ask. Feel free to scream, I promise I can take it.

Masterlist can be found in my bio.

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[thedrown]

Interloper Rework!

 Hellooo everyone, sorry for the sporadic doodles been adjusting to the new stylus/tablet and also working on some ref sheets that can be time consuming. Now then as you know I have several comic ideas the main ones being my vigilante comic BLAABR and a Star Wars story set during the Clone Wars called GOTS. While both of these series are pretty fleshed out both story and character wise, my newer series are still developing and as such my Imperial era Star Wars story “Interloper” is getting another rework! Details bellow if interested in how it will affect the fledgling story/art of characters from this series.

 So then, for a quick refresher since it’s been ages since the last upload, Star Wars Interloper is a Star Wars story set during the Imperial era following the small crew of an Imperial Light Cruiser as they engage in counter espionage predominately within the more autonomous zone of the Corporate Sector. The main cast include a young Umbaran pilot of a prototype TIE/Umbaran fighter, a spunky Rodian engineer, a nervous Pyke nurse, a Whiphid bodyguard and her Twilek boss, an Inquisitorus reject turned force adept spy, and the ex-shoretrooper captain of the whole ship. The villains were a cell of highly aggressive rebels separate from the mainline Alliance who were seeking to lay siege to the Corporate Sector to deal a major blow to the Imperial economy via terroristic means as this cadre of diverse victims of the Empire have little to lose and burn with vengeance. That’s really the long and short of it and thinking of a mainline story of these two parties engaging has been difficult to an extent. I eventually added characters from a scrapped Old Republic idea to be in a second arc so to speak with this one focused on an Imperial Moff going rogue with his fleet within Unknown Space seeking to build a true Sith empire that follows his pureblooded ancestry. This story idea held much more weight than the first and has been easier to flesh out yet getting there remained the issue.

 Enter another facet, a character from GOTS named Kanta Cym, who seemingly dies at the end of the series, survives via the dark side of the force and manages to cheat death via cloning but finds herself without any force abilities as a result and continues her studies of the ancient Sith unhindered by the Jedi as the Empire now reigns. Originally this was little more than a character epilogue post GOTS but I’ve taken more and more of an interest in fleshing this idea out thinking of her struggles without the force, survival in the slums of city worlds, and meeting a comrade in a shapeshifting Shiido bounty hunter as they evade the Empire, cartels, and a band of Jedi in hiding all the while she attempts to rekindle her force abilities by donning the mask of Darth Nihilus albeit with detrimental repercussions from overuse.

 So! I intend to essentially merge these stories into one, taking the stronger narrative of Cym’s endeavours during the Imperial era with the colourful cast and look through Imperial eyes of Interloper. Essentially the story now will follow Kanta as the protagonist for a time as we follow her efforts to pursue the dark side alongside her compatriot (whom I may change from a Shiido to a Harch) and the early antagonists being this rogue Jedi group. This portion will be fairly short and culminate with the Jedi being caught by Adaso’s men thus bridging the two stories as Cym is quietly brought into the fold given Adaso’s meager command and leniency brining her and her comrade aboard as a new spy for the crew (though he only knows of her borderline nonexistent force abilities not her past with the Jedi or Dark Side). And from here we enter Interlopers original plot with the Rebel cell albeit now with a more active protagonist as the Umbaran was very inactive as a protag and lacking in character while Kanta will replace the original spy character from Interloper. Kanta being unaligned with or caring about the Empire as well as her highly peculiar personality will give the plot more life and act not as a parallel or counter to the extremist Rebels, but essentially just being another character with neither being the “good” guy and both seeing the other as little more than obstacles which will allow for the characterization of the Interloper crew like originally intended whilst also keeping the central conflict engaging instead of feeling like just another skirmish. Similarly the spy character now being former Jedi and dark side student Kanta over the original spy character will work far greater in the second arc given it’s central plot point of the Sith species and darksiders acting as the primary antagonists. 

 Basically, moving forward this new Interloper iteration will be the perfect blend of every small scale Star Wars story I’ve invested in but found unable to turn into a full story. That said, the central themes of Interloper will be unchanged, it will still be a series from an Imperial perspective focusing on Adaso’s crew despite Kanta’s addition to the main cast. The exploration of the Sith and Kanta’s furthering of her efforts to reconnect to the force won’t be lost either as the second arc will provide ample material to do so while the first Rebel arc can instead look more at her relationship with Nihilus and her becoming accustomed to this new era and her new clone body. Now then, expect (much needed) updates to the existing Interloper cast with new backstories where necessary as well as some new characters/new versions of characters and unfortunately the deletion of some characters who won’t make the cut. Thank you and Stay Tuned!

[shochmonster]

84 Questions

original: https://fuckyeahsurveys.tumblr.com/post/61049002526/84-questions

Put your music player of choice on shuffle and list the first 10 songs Guns of Brixton - The Clash Holiday in Cambodia - Dead Kennedys  Chainsaw - Nick Jonas California - Joni Mitchell Make It Wit Chu - Queens of the Stone Age This Woman’s Work - Kate Bush The Bad Thing - Arctic Monkeys Between the Bars - Eliot Smith Drown - The Smashing Pumpkins Different People - No Doubt

If you could spend a week anywhere in the world, where would it be and why? Would you take anyone with you? I’d take @duoloopo to the UK. I’d like to see places other than London.

What is your preferred writing implement? (eg. Blue pen, pencil, green pen)  I use my iPad stylus the most, but I have this heavy mechanical pencil I really like for drawing. 

Favourite month and why? October. I just love the fall vibe. 

Do you have connections to any celebrities (even minor)? List them. I went to undergraduate school with Rebecca Sugar. We used to ride the bus between NYC and DC together on holidays. 

Name 3 items you could pick up from where you are. Can of seltzer, pencil case, stack of bills

What brand logo is closest to you currently? REAL Skateboards

Do you ever play board games or other non-computer games? Got any favourites? I love Small World and Munchkin. 

A musical artist you love that isn’t well known Laura Stevenson and the Cans

A musical artist you love that is well known Red Hot Chili Peppers

What is your desktop background currently? Thomas Barrow on the beach in the Season 4 Christmas Special

Last person you talked to, and through what you talked to them @duomaxwell02 with my face :O 

First colour name you can think of that isn’t in the rainbow White

What timekeeping devices are in the room you are currently in? Two wall clocks, though one is very old and doesn’t wind anymore. I also have a clock @duoloopo ‘s dad made for me. It’s on the piano. 

What kind of headphones do you use? JBL Bluetooth, noise canceling 

What musical artists have you seen perform live? Foo Fighters (3x), Incubus (3x), Red Hot Chili Peppers, Smashing Pumpkins, Beastie Boys, Audioslave, Justin Timberlake, Troy Sivan, Arctic Monkeys, The Rolling Stones, Eric Clapton, Queen (but with Roger Daughtry, not Freddy... for obvious reasons.). Probably a whole bunch of others I’m blanking on. 

Does virginity matter to you? Not really. 

What gaming consoles do you or your family own? PS4, PS2, PS1, XBox 360, N64, Gamecube, Wii, NES, SNES, various Gameboys, Nintendo DS, PSP

What pets do you have? What are their names? Two cats, Hemingway and Renji

What’s the best job you’ve ever had? I like freelance art gigs the best. As for ‘normal people jobs’, I once was a sign painter for Whole Foods. That was pretty fun, minus the work drama. 

What’s the worst job you’ve ever had? Food service. 

What magazines do you read, if any? I’ll pick up Time once in a while

Inspiration behind your URL? My classic original URL was LinkWorshiper and had been since AIM first existed. I picked it because Zelda was the first fandom I ever joined. Now I’ve changed all my handles (except on AO3) to reflect my actual name, as my literary agent thinks it’s more professional. 

Inspiration behind your blog title? Mean Girls. I always chuckle imagining Thomas and Jimmy as some Edwardian version of the Plastics. 

Favourite item of clothing? My Downton livery waistcoat. And the stiff bosomed shirt and collars I have to go with it. 

Are you friends with any exes? Nah. By the time I felt comfortable enough to possibly try, I also didn’t care enough to. 

Name at least one book you loved as a child. His Dark Materials (the trilogy by Philip Pullman). I still love them and am jazzed that he’s writing more these days. 

What’s your native language? If that language has distinct regional variations, which variation? (eg. AU English, US English) US English, mostly a northeastern dialect/accent

What email service do you use? Gmail

Is there anything hanging on the walls of the room you are currently in? So much stuff. I have a mood board full of Downtons stuff over my desk, various DA posters and memorabilia, plus some artwork I’ve done, and some of my JC Leyendecker collection. The aforementioned wall clocks, a San Francisco cable car bell, Sailor Moon and a few other little knickknacks, like my hamsa. To name a few lol. 

What’s your favourite number, and why? 212 because it’s Manhattan’s area code and also because it used to be the notation for one of my favorite ships in an old fandom. 

Earliest moment in your life you can remember? Sitting under the table and looking at my grandma, who was wearing a Cruella Deville dress she’d knit herself. Like, it had the actual Disney character on it. Pretty cool to a little guy, I guess!

What did you have for dinner yesterday? Quesadilla 

How often do you brush your teeth? Whenever they feel gross

What’s your favourite candy/chocolate? Lately, I’ve been into Junior Mints. 

Have you had other blogs on Tumblr? Do you have any other blogs currently? This blog used to have my old handle, linkworshiper. I did a small Whole Foods blog when I worked with them, but it never went anywhere. 

If you were suddenly really hungry, what would you choose to eat? Sushi

What fandoms would you consider yourself a part of? Downton Abbey, though lately I’ve been crazy busy and not as active as I once was. Casually still poking at old fandoms like Zelda and Gundam Wing to name a few. 

If you could study anything, what would it be? More art education can’t hurt. Maybe some formal history education. 

Do you use anything on your lips? (eg. Chapstick, gloss, balm, lipstick) Chapstick 

How would you describe your sense of humour? Seinfeld 

What things annoy you more than anything else? Mouth noises

What kind of position are you in at the moment? Sitting

Do you wear much jewellery? Nope

Who is the leader of your country, currently? Any other levels of government with leaders? (State, region, province, county, district, municipality, etc) Three supposedly equal branches of government, currently being run into the ground by a clown 

Last 3 blogs on your dashboard, not including any of your own @halcyondaze @mab1905 @lavender-hued-melancholy

What do you carry your money in? I try to never carry cash, but I carry a small wallet 

Do you enjoy driving? Why or why not? I like it but sometimes it feels like a chore, especially during a commute. @duoloopo thinks I’m a shit driver so she tries to drive whenever she can, which has pluses and minuses. 

Longest drive you have ever been on? Savannah GA to San Francisco, CA in a UHaul

Furthest away from home you have ever been? Germany 

How many times have you moved house? God, I don’t even know. More than ten. 

What is on the floor of the room you’re currently in, not including furniture? Cat toys, unused canvases

How many devices do you own which can access the internet? Phone, computer, iPad, various game consoles 

Is there is anything that is guaranteed to always make you happy? Thomas and Jimmy <3 <3 

Is there anything that always makes you sad? Thinking too hard about being a failure

What programs do you currently have open? I just rebooted, so only Chrome, Spotify and Photoshop

What do you associate the colour red with? This line in the Kate Bush Song Blue Symphony, which goes, ‘I associate love with red, the color of my heart when she’s dead.’ 

Last strong smell you can remember smelling? The Greek food I ordered in for dinner

Last healthy thing you ate? Roasted veggies

Do you drink tea or coffee, and how much per day? I prefer tea, and I drink coffee for energy, though sometimes I think it just makes me crash harder. 

What do you associate the colour blue with? The sky

How long is the closest ruler you can find? 12 inches

What colour pants/skirt/etc are you currently wearing? Dark blue

When was the last time you drank water? About a minute ago

How often do you clear your browser history? Rarely

Do you believe nude photos can be artistic, rather than erotic? Yes

Ever written fanfiction for anything? Oh God, yes. You can still find it under Link Worshiper on AO3, though some of my ‘classics’ have been removed since I turned them into original manuscripts 

Last formal event you attended My cousin’s wedding

If you had to move your birthday to another date, which one would you choose and why? Maybe inch my birth year up just by two so that I’d stop being called a damn millennial. At my age, I really just don’t relate to the generation even though technicalities make me a part of it. 

Would you prefer to be at a beach or in the countryside? Beach

Roughly how many people live in your town? 52,000

Do you know anyone with the same birthday as you? Leonard Nimoy :D 

Favourite place to shop? Can be a certain store or a place where there are multiple stores I haven’t really gone shopping since the pandemic. Right now, it feels like the only place to buy anything is Amazon XD

Do you have a smartphone? What kind? If you don’t, do you want one? Samsung. It’s not a Galaxy but is a new model and a fraction of the price. 

What is your least favourite colour, and why? I don’t think I dislike any colors honestly. 

How do you spell grey/gray? Grey. I’ve got too many British online associates to ever go back. 

Go to your dashboard and describe the image shown in the radar section (below the “Find blogs” link) It’s Umbrella Academy fanart of Klaus. He’s in black and white with this hands over his eyes and the background is red. It’s very graphic. 

What difference is there between how many followers you have, and the number of blogs you follow? 736

How many posts do you have? 8,859

How many posts have you liked? I can’t find the stat D: 

Do you post mainly reblogs, or your own content? Mainly reblogs but I pepper in my own content when I can. Lately, I haven’t had time to do as much fanart though, and I kind of feel like it’s not worth bothering to post my original stuff. Nobody follows my blog for that. 

Do you track any tags? No. 

What time is it currently? 7:33 PM CMT

Is there anything you should be doing right now? Waking up @duoloopo. TIME TO JUMP ON THE BED. 

tagging, if they feel like it: @abbys-little-whippersnapper​ @bumblebarrow​ @irrationalgame​ @downtoncat​ @mab1905​ @duoloopo​

and everyone who I’ve forgotten

[a-trying-writer]

[[ The story needs it own post too. ]]

The price of eating a bacon, egg, and cheese sandwich at the bodega may have eaten Jay's wallet more than she did, but it was always worth it. Especially today, since the streets are clogged, and the amount of packages she will have to deliver have grown compared to last week. At least the paycheck makes up for it.

Once she finished up her breakfast with a cup of orange juice, she gave Joshua – the store owner – a toothy grin. “Thanks, chef! I'll see you tomorrow!” she said, before securing her full face helmet on.

He gave her a firm nod before seeing her roller skate out of the store with a large bag strapped around her shoulder. That girl was going to get herself hurt again, but it never stops her from doing what she needs to do, no matter how many people beg her.

Skating from one road to another, between the honking cars with people screaming expletives out their window, Jay turned her bracelet on to see a map flash on her visor. Blinking red dots appeared on selected points of interest, along with lines on where the best shortcuts are from her personal experience. With a press of a button, the map revealed the address of her first stop: an apartment.

A few familiar faces greeted her as they watched her slip between narrow alleys, and as she passed by a man by jumping over a fence with the help of a ramp, he clicked on the stopwatch in his hand. He checked the time with a smirk, before pocketing the watch. “She finally slowed down for once,” he muttered to himself as he climbed into his truck.

Once she arrived at her destination, Jay lifted up her visor to see a middle aged woman sitting on the front porch. “Hey, Miyu,” she greeted her as she pulled out a tablet from her bag.

“Good to see you again, Jay,” she said as she picked up the stylus and signed her full name. “I see your bag is a little bit more stuffed than usual.”

Jay chuckled as she confirmed the delivery, and took out a box to give to Miyu. “It's no big deal,” she replied with a shrug. “Anyway, hope you and your kid are doing good.”

The woman gave her a warm smile. “We are, but Aya misses you a lot, child. You should come by for dinner sometime.”

“Ah, free food does sound tempting... and it's always fun to play with Aya. How about this Friday?”

“Very well, I'll give you a call before then, all right?”

Jay nodded her head with a smile in her eyes then closed her visor. “Okay. See you, Miyu.” She lifted her gaze to spot a young child peeking through a window and waved. The girl smiled as she returned the wave and watched her skate away.

It was not often that Jay stopped by the Okamura family, especially during deliveries, but they are one of the several people she feels comfortable talking to during her job. On her way to the next destination, she marked the day she will visit them before letting the image flicker out behind her visor.

The sun was almost over the horizon by the time Jay delivered her second to last package. She lifted up her helmet to take in the fresh air while gazing up at the orange tinted sky. It was difficult to see the sun at this time of day due to the large buildings around her, so she could only imagine how beautiful it must look.

Jay had lived in this city since her mother wanted to start a new life after the divorce with her father. It was difficult to adjust to the changes during her childhood, and she could never remember how the sun looked as it rose and fell. It wasn't until she turned thirteen that she had accepted it.

Things were difficult as the years went by. School became overwhelming for Jay, to the point that she dropped out at sixteen, and decided to study at home instead. While she had got her diploma, she didn't seek out a job until she was twenty-five, because her mother fell ill.

Her father wanted to get in touch with them, but her mother did not want anything to do with him. Why, Jay never knew. When she finally passed away, all contact outside the city was cut off, and Jay had to take care of herself with some of the inheritance that her mother passed down on to her.

Knowing that it was only going to be temporary, Jay searched for jobs to keep food on her table. It took several attempts, but she finally got one with the city's delivery service. Since then, her life has become stable.

Plus, she had a fun hobby to go along with it – roller skating.

Realizing she was smiling to herself, Jay slipped her helmet back on to deliver the last package for today. Her mother is probably proud of her, she thought.

The last stop made Jay question her GPS multiple times, but no matter what she did, it led her to a run down building sitting between apartments that are very much intact and livable. Well, there was no point in questioning it anymore. She carefully climbed up the stairs and pressed the single working button on the panel built into the side.

There was no response, but she did it again, this time yelling, “Pelican Packages delivery! Is there a Miss...” She paused to reread the name then tried to say it as slowly as possible, “Er-ee-na... Flo-reah?”

Silence.

“It's Doctor Irina Florea,” the person answered. “Please, leave the package at the door.”

A slight frowned formed on Jay's face. “You have to sign for it, Doctor,” she replied while mocking the person's title.

Another minute of silence.

“Fine,” they groaned. “I'll be there in a moment.”

Jay released the button with a huff. It's only natural to expect rude people in this line of work, but that doesn't mean she can't complain to her boss about it. Perhaps this person will be black listed, or assigned to some other delivery person, as much as she didn't want others to suffer the same way she is.

It took a moment for the person to approach the door and open it to reveal a haggard woman with red hair tied in a messy bun. She was dressed in a button up shirt and gray slacks and bunny slippers. Jay wasn't one to judge a person by their appearance, but this woman's attire just screams “workaholic”. She almost pitied her.

Like before, Jay gave the doctor a tablet to sign her signature with a brief hum.

“Is everything okay?” Jay asked.

“Hm?” She blinked at her a few times, before she rolled her head around with a yawn. “Your tablet is quite outdated... Is this really what your job assigned you with? A tacky tablet?”

Jay sucked in a deep breath as she tucked the tablet away. “I can't beg my boss to update our devices – that is up to the CEO of the company.”

There was a brief sparkle in the woman's eyes, until she blinked it away with a subtle disapproving look. “Can't be helped, I suppose.” She then stretched out her arms towards Jay. “Package, please.”

Jay took out a large, rectangular shaped box from her now empty bag to pass it towards her. There was a brief moment when Jay thought she felt something crawl on her skin, but when she pulled her arm back, whatever it was either fell off, or was just her imagination.

The doctor looked at her with a raised brow, but Jay quickly dismissed it with a shake of her head. “Enjoy your evening, Doctor,” she said, then turned away.

Irina only hummed in response before she shut the door behind her. That woman was quite short, the doctor thought as she made her way back to her room. Monitors and computers decorated it from the floor, to the walls, and even the ceiling. She maneuvered over the cables to reach one of her desktops and place the package on the table.

When she reached out for her scissors, only to realize that it was missing from her table, and let out a long, weary sigh. “Power on, Joy!” she yelled.

There was no response.

“Joy?” she repeated as she looked up at a sphere installed in the wall. “Hey, wake up!”

A bright blue light lit up from the sphere and turned towards Irina. “Pardon, Dr. Florea, I have just noticed an error in my system,” it replied.

“Show me the error!”

A screen flickered before Irina, showing Joy's entire body, from its shell to its cables within. Everything seemed to be in one piece, except for one part that was supposed to be installed just yesterday. The doctor huffed with a shake of her head. “I thought it was something far worse than that, Joy. I'll make you another one.”

“Very well, Doctor,” the drone spoke, before falling quiet.

On her way home, Jay stopped by the bodega again to pick up an order from Joshua for herself. A delicious toasted sandwich with turkey, cheese, lettuce, tomatoes, and vinegar. She took off her roller skates to climb the stairs in her bare feet, and opened the door with a soft tired sigh.

After placing her bag aside in the living room, Jay stripped off her clothing to shower and put on a set of pajamas. She turned on the television to stream a movie, and report her work for today to her boss.

When she saw Irina's name on the list, she wondered if she should share her experience. Perhaps the woman was working too hard, which is why she acted the way she did. It was okay for the workers to share information about the clients so they could be safe, but Jay wanted to give this woman the benefit of doubt, and maybe keep her name clean for the time being.

So she put a special report under Irina's name. “I will be glad to take any packages for her.”

Once she pressed send, her work was actually done. All she has to do now, is rest and eat her sandwich while watching a B list horror movie.

She didn't notice the small sphere climbing out of her bag, and made its way up to the top of her couch to watch it alongside her.

[wr1t3-my-wr0ngs]

Remembering Yesterday's Tomorrow (In the Here and Now) - Part 5

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

The darkness stretches infinitely. Ahead of her, the only thing Ahsoka can see is the bright shape of Morai, the convor unfailingly flying forward, and the ever-constant blackness that presses in from all directions. And it does press like a physical weight —she can feel it on her skin, a cross between the atmosphere of a planet that has a different gravity, and being submitted in water.

She is viscerally reminded of her time spent in the World Between Worlds, where the rules of conventional gravity and time did not apply. But in comparison, this place feels wild, untouched. No paths of light or dancing stars or infinite doors mark the landscape. It hadn't occurred to her before now that the World Between that she had experienced with Ezra had been artificial, constructed by someone or some group to be just as much a part of the temple on Lothal as any other room or mural.

Walking through the endless void, it seems a little obvious in retrospect.

It's unclear how long she has been following her avian companion, concepts such as hours, minutes and seconds, have no use in this place. There is the sense that she has been walking for a while, but even that is only a vague notion that sits in the back of her mind like the dawning of an idea before it has coalesced. She only knows that she is not where she was when she set out, Rex's grave having disappeared from view almost as soon as she had decided to follow Morai.

Rex.

Her heart twists at the thought of him; the aching loss still too fresh to be touched without dredging up the pain. She touches it anyway; lets herself grieve without shame or obligation, remembering the joy along with the sorrow. His smile, hidden behind his beard, a little crooked and always so genuine; the sound of his voice as he sang in the shower, the embarrassed flush on his face when caught in the act, but willing to oblige with a song when asked; the way he never looked at her with resentment when she had to go and the overwhelming, pulsing, warm joy he broadcasted every time she returned, no matter how long she was away.

Deep inside, she wishes they had more time together, wishes that it hadn't taken so long for her to recognize that her feelings for the clone ran deeper than just friendship. Not the sweeping romantic feelings her old master harbored for his wife, or even the quiet longing between Obi-wan and Santine. It had taken her years to realize that she didn't have those sorts of inclinations and even longer to reconcile it with her ability and capacity to love. She's still not entirely sure she understands it herself but is forever grateful for Rex, who took the time to try and understand and learn, put in his share of effort to make things work between them.

A chirp from Morai brings her back to her surroundings, a little surprised to find that she had stopped walking at some point, her cheeks damp with tears. The bird hovers before her, head tilted with concern, and settles on Ahsoka's shoulder, nuzzling her beak against the Togrutas montral.

Despite herself, Ahsoka smiles and gently strokes the soft feathers before drying her eyes. Morai hoots once before taking off back into the dark, and Ahsoka, heart still full, follows.

---

To say that Anakin Skywalker is frustrated would be the understatement of the galaxy. It's been almost two weeks since Umbara, two weeks since he left his men in the hands of Krell, two weeks of his Captain being locked away for doing something Anakin does not, cannot fault him for. Just thinking about Krell brings a snarl to his face.

Good riddance, he thinks as he works on writing up his latest report, jamming the stylus too hard against the datapad screen. Not even the sun, shining brightly through the window by his desk, or the feeling of thousands of lifeforms in the force bustling around Coruscant, can lighten his mood.

Yes, Anakin Skywalker is frustrated and angry. Frustrated because Rex doesn't deserve to be kept as a prisoner, mad because he should have known. What good is being the kriffing chosen one if he can't spot a karking Sith Sympathiser when they are standing right in front of him?

All at once, the anger leaves him and is replaced, as it has been off and on since he got the news of Umbara, by the underlying guilt and shame. He should have been there, not flying back to Coruscant to take care of some whim of the Supreme Chancellors. 

For the first time in a long time, he resents his old friend. Rationally, he knows Palpatine must have thought he had a good reason, and that perhaps if it were anyone but Rex on the line, he would be able to forgive the older man after a few days. He knows he'll forgive his friend eventually; after all, it was an accident. It's not as if the old senator could have known Krell's true agenda.

But for now, Anakin is still mad. Because it's Rex, his second in command, one of the best damn soldiers he has ever known, and the missions haven't been the same without him, have practically ground to a halt in his absence. More than that, the Captain is one of the few people the Jedi truly considers as a friend.  Someone who doesn't give two shits about the so-called prophecy or his relationship to it, who has seen him at his most ridiculous and still respects him. Is one of the two people -not counting Padmé herself- that knows about his relationship with his wife.

And friends don't just let friends sit in a cell, waiting on either freedom or a death sentence.

A knock on the door pulls him from his reverie.

"Enter."

The door opens with a swish, revealing, to his surprise, Obi-Wan, dressed only in robes for a change, his chest plate and vambrace elsewhere for the time being, looking haggard.

Amusement briefly flickers across the old bond from his Master, before Obi-Wan slumps into the only other chair in the room.

Glad for the excuse to set aside his report, Anakin turns to face the bearded man.

"I didn't expect to see you planetside."

"I'm only here for your Captains Court Marshal. I thought it best if I gave my testimony in person rather then via holo-call. I ship back out to the front lines tomorrow."

Anakin scowls at the mention of the trial but quickly drops it with a sigh.

"Thank you."

Obi-Wan nods.

"He's a good man and doesn't deserve to be punished for his actions on Umbara."

The bearded Jedi pauses in the way that Anakin has come to know means that his former Master wants to say something, but isn't sure how to approach the topic.

"Have you spoken to him yet?"

Inwardly, Anakin curses himself. He thought he had control over his tumultuous emotions, tight enough that they wouldn't spill into the bond with his master and let Obi-Wan glimpse his rolling guilt and anger. Apparently, his control wasn't as good as he had thought.

"Not yet, " he responds truthfully, picking back up the half-finished report and feigning interest, hoping that the appearance of having work to do will discourage Obi-Wan from his line of questioning.

It seems to work, as his former Master goes silent for a few moments. Just when he thinks that Obi-Wan has dropped the topic and that it's safe to put down the report, the older Jedi speaks.

"I think you should visit him. I imagine that it's starting to get a little lonely and that a supportive face might do Rex some good."

To anyone who hadn't grown up under the tutelage of Obi-Wan Kenobi, the double meaning would be subtle, sounding like nothing more than concern for the Clone Captains well being. Anakin does not have that disadvantage, and catches what his Master isn't saying. How visiting Rex might do him some good too.

Anakin takes a moment to breathe deeply before looking at his Master, a sharp reply on the tip of his tongue about being coddled this late in his life, only to cut himself off. Obi-Wan looks tired. Shoulders slumped forward, and the young Jedi briefly wonders how much of his Master's posture in the battlefield is due to the confines of his chest plate and pauldrons enforcing the rigid set to his shoulders.

Gently he reaches out through their shared bond, taking the measure of the bearded man's intentions. He finds nothing malicious, only love and concern, and it feels to his mind, forever the product of a hot and sandy planet, like a cool blanket being draped around his shoulders after a day working in the suns.

"I'll visit him tomorrow."

Obi-Wan smiles, and Anakin finds himself smiling back. With that, the conversation drops into a lull, the two men chatting aimlessly about one thing and another, before eventually checking back around to Obi-Wans up coming mission.

"Where is the Council sending you off to this time?"

"Kiros. It seems the colony there is feeling mounting pressure from the war and has requested aid."

Recognition sparks in the back of Anakin's mind. He was supposed to be joining that mission, but with the trial proceedings running longer than expected, the order had opted not to assign the Knight. Anakin understands the thinking, that doesn't mean he has to like it, but at the same time, he's grateful that he won't be abandoning Rex to his fate alone.

"They found someone to accompany you after all?"

Obi-Wan hums.

"Indeed. Master Ti found herself available, and we are hoping that her presence as a fellow Togruta will help things go over more smoothly."

Anakin huffs in amusement.

"They're an artisans colony, shouldn't be too hard."

The Jedi Master tilts his head in concession and smiles, relaxing back into the chair.

"It will be nice to have a relatively easy mission for a change."

---

Rex is starting to go a little stir crazy. A side effect he had not considered when he had decided to take responsibility for Krell's death. His immediate thoughts had been to keep his men out of harm's way, fix one last piece of the mess that was Umbara.

In hindsight, his plan was a bit shortsighted, but he honestly didn't know what to expect after - if he would still be around or if the galaxy had finished toying with him and would let him march ahead and rest with his brothers.

Two weeks of waking up in a cell, at first on Umbara, later on, a star destroyer, and finally on Coruscant, had cemented the notion that the Captain was in this whatever this is for the long haul. It had also lost its novelty rather quickly. Despite the growing restlessness, only alleviated by the occasional walk to and from the senate building to give testimony, it has given him time to think. Even so, he hasn't come to a decision and so he runs through his options one more time.

He knows Palpatine is corrupt, is the shadow figurehead wielding two separate armies for control of the galaxy, is responsible for the death and misery of millions.

It would be easy to do nothing. To let the war and rebellion play out as they did. He knows that Palatine will get what's coming to him in due time.

Rex buries his face in his hands and feels like a coward for even considering the idea. But the alternative is daunting: Stop the Empire before it can even exist, more so then it already does (it's sickening to see how much is already in place, to realize that between the Separatists and the Republic, the Empire already stretches across the Galaxy, is in every home and hyperspace lane. Seeds of a dark and totalitarian regime just waiting to sprout). He doesn't even know how he would start or if it's even possible to change things on such a large scale.

But things are already different. In small ways, yes, but still distinct from what they were.

Dogma, Hardcase, and a handful of other troopers that would have died (did die once) because of Krell's orders, alive and ready for a fight.

Burgeoning hope roots itself under his ribs, a fragile thing that Rex is afraid to cling too tightly to and accidentally kill, so he lets it sit near his heart, next to his joy and sorrow, and contemplates what it would take to change the fate of the galaxy.

Help, his mind supplies, I need help.

He can't do this alone. It's a risk involving others- letting anyone in on the knowledge he has, or even his suspicions, will raise questions, some that he won't be able to answer truthfully. Even in the privacy of his own mind having experienced it for himself, time travels as an explanation sounds ridiculous, and not everyone will be as willing to believe him as Fives.

And although Rex trusts his brother and knows that Fives will have his back in this, two soldiers do not a rebellion make. But it is a start.

More than people, Rex needs information, connections that can help him prove the Chancellor's corruption. His own set of skills in information gathering is, admittedly, limited, although more comprehensive than it was before he had lived through the Empire. But success hinges on convincing people to join him, and for that, he needs proof.

A face comes to mind, unbidden, and it gives the Captain pause. His first instinct is to bury the idea as deep as he can. Senator Amidala is, by all counts, not someone Rex wants to risk in this endeavor. But he can't deny that she would be nearly perfect for the task, is reasonably sure that she already has a list of the Chancellors more questionable decisions and policies.

The longer he thinks about it, the better he likes the idea. She's an intelligent woman, who Rex knows (if he can recruit her) will understand the risks and the stakes, knows she already has connections of her own, and isn't afraid to get her hands dirty.

One thing is for certain, should he find out, General Skywalker will kill him.

[emaspin]

So, I started this tumblr for the Grishaverse Big Bang however now I’m following a bunch of other fandoms things and I figured why not share so if my own writing? So this is a Lunar Chronicles fic that I wrote for a compation that I won. The digital gift card didn’t work, but I still won. Now we just cross our fingers and hope that none of my real life friends find this because they already found my tik tok and my Instagram.

The stylus that was dancing over Cinders fingers began to wobble as she lost control of the rhythm. Again. What had once been a cool trick when she was a mechanic in New Beijing now was the cause of many flying pens. It was a habit that she had perfected with a wrench, but now with a much lighter port screen stylus she has to relearn. The stylus that she used on Luna was made of a much heavier material. It was different. So many things had been different lately, but a marvellous, fantastic different.

“When you were a kid did you ever have Wibble Bites?” Kai’s abrupt question stole Cinder’s attention away from her port screen.

“I’m sorry, did I ever have what?”

“Wibble Bites” Kai responded and he looked shocked that she didn’t recognize whatever he was taking about. “They had a teal green package and little doodles of hamsters on them. You know, the fruit flavoured cookies.” At Kai’s description, a sudden memory hit Cinder and she gasped.

“Oh my stars! Wibble Bites! Yes I remember those. They were so good.” Cinder gushed

“Apparently the company that sold them went under after the owner died of letumosis,” He sighed. “I wish we could still get them.”

“Why do you know so much about Wibble bites?” She glanced at him questioningly. “Is that what you were doing on your portscreen for the past hour? I thought you were working!” Cinder exclaimed as she started to laugh at her strangely adorable husband.

“I was taking a break.” Kai said in mock defence.

“Actually, I think I know where we can get Wibble Bites.”

Kai sat up straighter in his armchair.

“Where?”

“There’s this old convenience store in downtown New Beijing. It had them for a pretty cheap price too. I used to get them for Peony.”

“Let’s go get some.” Kai suggested

Cinder sat up and started walking towards the door of their bedroom when Kai stopped her. Glancing at her black dress pants and a ornate, red blouse that had bell sleeves that draped across her forearms.

“You can go out like that! You’re too recognizable, you’ll get mobbed!”

The ridiculous statement made it very hard for Cinder to keep a straight face.

“What do you suggest?” She asked, not bothering to mask her grin.

“I don’t know, put on jeans or something.�� He tossed her a hoodie as he spoke. A grey hoodie. A familiar grey hoodie.

“Is this the hoodie?” She asked.

“What hoodie?” Kai turned to face her and she recognized the moment her question clarified in his mind. He smirked. “Yes.”

Cinder couldn’t think of suitable words so she just rolled her eyes at him and walked towards her closet. She found herself doing that a lot. Although at one point she thought it would never be possible for someone to render her speechless, Kai had an uncanny way of doing it almost daily. Cinder also knew that she did the exact same thing to him. Her heart swelled every time she saw his little eye roll.

She opened a small drawer in the very back of her closet and pulled out a pair of blue jeans and a black tank top. She had a very small amount of casual clothes and it all fit into the small drawer, however the rest of her walk in closet swelled with full skirts and vibrant colours. Cinder didn’t consider herself a dressy person, in fact Iko had picked out most of the dresses that filled the closet. Cinder just couldn’t stand to throw them away. They all held so many memories. Galas and balls where she was always surrounded by her friends. She brushed her fingers against the dress that she had worn to her the first annual peace ball, well, her second. The one she went to when she was still the Queen of Luna. The memory of the first peace ball and the dress that she had worn to that stung her heart. She gripped the necklace around her neck that Kai had given her, the one made with Peony’s ID chip.

She looked down to gather her emotions and she saw Kai’s grey hooded sweatshirt draped over her arm. She quickly changed and walked out of the closet as she was zipping up the hoodie. Kai grinned at her as he stood waiting at the door.

“All set?” He asked. Cinder nodded and they began their way towards the palace gates.

The tinkling of bells greeted them as they entered the small convenience store. Cinder expertly guided Kai to the back of the store where a couple shelves of old snack food sat under the label ‘family favourites’

Kai started to load bag after bag into his arms. “My mom hated when I would eat these.” Kai chuckled.

“Adri wouldn’t let me eat these.” Cinder said as she grabbed a few bags herself. The bells chimes again and Cinder could her a cluster of giggling teenage girls entered the store. Kai and Cinder quickly turned to each other and averted their gaze to the floor to avoid being recognized. Kai looked as though he was barely restraining laughter and the look was making it harder for Cinder to hold in her own. Finally once it had been long enough and nobody had accused them of being royalty they dared to turn and make their way towards the front counter. Cinder dropped her bags on to the till.

“Wow, that’s a lot.” The Cashier said without bothering to look up. But as Kai dropped even more bags into the pile the Cashier did look up. Then his jaw dropped. “You! And you!” He pointed as Cinder and stood in awe. “Oh all of the almighty stars!”

“We would appreciate it if you would be a little bit more discreet.” Kai’s gentle encouragement for calm worked wonders. The man immediately hushed but still remained star struck. “Would you mind ringing up our food?” Kai asked politely.

The Cashier set up the transaction and Kai paid for the snack food with a swish of his wrist. They began to walk out of the door when Kai reached at his belt for his port. He called a hover to the convenience store and they were only waiting for a moment before a sleek black one rounded the street corner. As they were situating themselves into the seats of the hover a green text floated up into Cinders vision. She read the comm quickly, and then had to read it again.

Comm from Iko: Where are you?? I’ve been comming you. I just got the results. Positive!!

Cinder gasped. She faced Kai and grabbed his hand.

“What is it?” Kai asked. His alarm was beginning to dissolve as he watched the radiant smile grow on her face.

“Were pregnant.”

“What?!” Kai chuckled out the question and she knew that he felt the same overwhelming joy that she did.

“Iko made me take a test. She just got the results!” Cinder could not have kept the excitement out of her voice, even if she had been trying, but she wasn’t.

Kai grabbed her and wrapped his arms around her. She felt a tear drop on the back of her neck and she could feel Kai shaking with joy. She hugged him back tighter. He pulled back and held her face in his hands, he didn’t even have to say anything. Everything was written on his face. And even deeper than that she could feel exactly what he was feeling. She was flooding over with hope, anticipation, joy, happiness, but mostly love. Love for this baby who they were going to be able to meet soon. Very soon. They held each other the whole way home, laughing and shaking and kissing. This was a whole new chapter of their lives and Cinder was sure that it would be the best one yet.