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enchantedsugden · 3 years ago

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what happens to a love that’s not new? chapter 3

ao3 link

Robert’s unpacking one of his two bags. He would never admit it but it feels massive, hanging some of his clothes next to Aaron’s. They definitely stand out, next to Aaron’s black collection of clothes.

He smiles to himself as he thinks about how quickly he threw his stuff together, the way his sister had teased him about it.

“There you are.” Aaron says as he walks into what he supposes is their bedroom now.

“Uh yeah, thought I put some stuff away already.” Robert says, looking at Aaron and sees that his boyfriend has that same teasing smile on his face.

“What?” He grins.

“Couldn’t wait could ya?”

“Shut up.” He laughs before looking at Aaron again and saying “I was excited wasn’t I?” Aaron grin turns soft as he walks over to the bed, lies down on it.

“As you were.” He says and Robert shakes his head, feels himself blush at the way Aaron is looking at him.

“Those draws are empty as well.” Aaron says, pointing to one of the bedside tables. He suddenly sits up, looking slightly shy. “That’s your side now I suppose, properly. So yeah- that nightstand is yours now.”

It’s like he’s looking in from the outside, Robert just can’t believe he gets to have this now.

He’s shares a room with Aaron.

He feels silly for being so exicted about it, but he is.

He didn’t feel like this when he moved in with Chrissie, he knows it’s because he was more concerned with the fact that he got so much more than a shared space with Chrissie. He got a definite foot in the business and status to go along with it.

If the Robert from back then would see him now he’d be baffled. Being happy about sharing a bedroom in a pub with a man? It would be unheard of.

Robert gulps, feels both upset and relieved. It’s freeing, the way he can let go now he’s with Aaron.

He’s upset for himself and all the years he spent trying to be a person he just wasn’t and upset for all the people he’s hurt in the process of becoming more himself- Aaron not excluded. But he doesn’t have to check himself anymore all hours of the day, it’s okay if he shows people how he’s really feeling.

“You okay?” Aaron’s voice shakes him out of his thoughts.

“Yeah.” He whispers, his voice sounding somewhat horse. It makes Aaron frown but he doesn’t say anything, as if he knows that Robert is dealing with something that he can’t quite share yet.

When Robert turns around again to look at his boyfriend, he sees that he still looks somewhat concerned.

Robert joins Aaron on the bed- tucking a leg underneath him, he looks at his boyfriend intently.

“You’re happy about this right?” Aaron asks and now it’s Robert’s turn to frown because only a second ago they were joking about Robert’s impatience to move in.

“About moving in with you? Of course I am.”

Aaron nods and Robert hesitates slightly before asking, “Aaron, where is this coming from?”

Aaron just shrugs, like he’s not sure whether to be honest and Robert’s brain does the work of putting the possible pieces together.

“Is this because I didn’t agree to it straight away?” Robert asks, hoping it’s not because he thought they were past that but he can’t think of anything else that could have Aaron worried.

Aaron grabs Robert’s hand as if to soften the situation. He doubts how much he should say, if he should say anything at all.

Aaron’s brain rakes over all of the things he’s told Robert over the past few days. He sighs, doesn’t know where to start.

He looks at Robert now, the way his cheeks are still a bit flushed, either from happiness or the way he had practically run to Keepers and stuffed all his belongings in two bags. It makes Aaron’s chest ache, knowing that he doubted Robert, again. Shame washes over him when he thinks back to his conversation with Lawrence, feels sick at having discussed his boyfriend with him of all people. He had let the man’s words stain him and as a consequence Aaron lashed out at Robert, didn’t let him explain.

Discussing Robert, letting Lawrence use him as a topic of conversation regarding sexuality was wrong and Aaron hates how he didn’t defend his boyfriend better.

It should be enough to have Robert here with him, happy and his. It is enough.

Aaron knows that there is a lot to what Robert has been through when it comes to his sexuality, stuff he doesn’t know about. He’s sure though that one day Robert will feel safe enough to talk about it but it’s something that has to come from Robert. He knows that.

He can wait, just like Robert’s done for him.

“I don’t doubt that you want this.” Aaron answers firmly, tries not to think about his words earlier this week.

You don’t even know what love is.

“I shouldn’t have jumped to those conclusions, thought the worst of you.” Aaron gulps, knows that’s exactly what he did. He promised Robert he’d try to be better about that.

He thinks about Victoria’s words, about Robert being trustworthy now he’s with Aaron.

Aaron winces as he thinks back to accusing Robert of going out on the pull. Robert hadn’t done anything to make Aaron feel like he wasn’t all in, quite the opposite really. Aaron knows that it’s his own insecurities that make him lash out like that sometimes, it’s something he needs to work on.

Robert looks away, nods.

“It’s just- I don’t want to push you into doing something you might not be ready for yet- just to keep me happy.” He thinks about Robert trying to placate him the other day by saying they should start looking.

“This should be a step we’re both ready for.”

“I am.” Robert answers sincerely, looking at Aaron. “I was just worried that it would change things. And we said we’d take it slow.” He trails off with a small smile and Aaron grins too.

They did say they would take it slow and now Robert had moved into the pub.

“I’m sorry for flying off the handle.” He needs Robert to know that he’s actively trying to change when it comes to his reaction at times.

“It’s okay. I get that you got worried though- it’s just I didn’t- well I don’t want to mess this up and…” he trails off again and Aaron squeezes his hand to let him know he’s listening.

“I was just worried because- settling down with Chrissie didn’t last long and I just don’t want to mess this up.”

Aaron nods, surprised by the fact that the mention of Robert’s ex-wife doesn’t bother him.

He thinks about how much he does want a place together with Robert but knows that this might be a good place to start. He doesn’t want to scare Robert off or make him do something he isn’t quite ready for yet, especially as Robert has been honest about all of this still being very new to him.

Robert confirms his thoughts. “But this, it feels like a good first step right? Especially with Liv and everything still being quite new. But Aaron, I do want us to get a place together at some point. This is a forever thing for me, you know that right?”

Aaron smiles, squeezing Robert’s hand again. “I do, I promise you I do.” Once again he wishes he could take the things back he’d said in anger.

He does know. At first he was worried that Robert had agreed to move in with him to keep him happy, to keep them from arguing, kept replaying their conversation over and over again.

Robert’s willingness to live with Aaron’s family members, some of which have never hidden the fact they don’t like him is proof of Robert’s love for him, proof that he really wants to be with Aaron.

He sighs, hesitates before saying, “I know I fly off the handle far too quickly at times but we’re together now Robert which means we make decisions together and I don’t want you doing things just to keep me happy or because you’re scared it will break us up.” Aaron’s heart is racing but he feels lighter for saying it.

Robert looks taken aback almost as if he’s shocked at Aaron being able to read him so well.

For some people it would probably be hard to match their version of Robert up to his version, the one who does put others before himself, the one who would do everything to keep the people he loves happy but Aaron knows him, sees him.

“I-“ He tries and Aaron smiles a little, shakes his head.

“Just remember that yeah?”

Robert nods, eyes shining and Aaron feels a spark of excitement at the thought of their future, one that they get to share together.

Aaron’s starting to realise how good honest and open communication can feel when it’s with someone who makes him feel comfortable and safe. He hopes Robert feel the same.

Aaron looks lighter after their conversation and Robert can relate to that. He appreciates his boyfriend’s words more than he can articulate. It means more than he can say that Aaron seems to understand that being in a relationship with Aaron, with a man, carries thoughts, memories and reflections with it- ones that Aaron doesn’t even know about yet and Robert hasn’t fully processed yet.

He smiles to himself as he thinks about how well his sister knows him, even if she is always sticking her nose in his business- it isn’t always a bad thing. She was right, he did see problems that weren’t really there because he was scared. He wants to be with Aaron, more than anything else. He’s finally happy and he won’t let himself sabotage out of fear.

He leans forward, presses a gentle kiss to Aaron’s mouth, his boyfriend smiling against his lips.

“I’ll just unpack the rest of that bag- the rest can wait till tomorrow.”

“Charity will be happy- think I already heard her complaining about it being in the way.”

Robert laughs, “you’d think she’s used to mess considering all the crap you own.”

“Oi.” Aaron shouts, eyes sparkling.

Robert can feel the way his boyfriend is intently looking at him and everything he’s unpacking, most likely resisting the urge to tease him for pretty much everything he owns.

Robert in turn resists the urge to tell Aaron that he’s never felt this way around Chrissie, able to be himself around her- sharing his likes and hobbies with her.

He can’t quite believe the Woolie is his home now, that this is his bedroom he shares with his boyfriend.

He thinks about all the times he’d sneaked in and out of this exact bedroom.

He also thinks about how it was in the pub that Aaron told him to say it proud.

He’s doing that now he supposes- telling everyone that he loves Aaron, wants to be with him.

He remembers Vic’s happiness when he told her that he was moving into the pub, Diane’s knowing smile.

Even Andy had given him somewhat of a kind nod as he passed Robert on the street when he was carrying his stuff over to the pub earlier.

It’s still hard to shake off the past, the memories of who he was last year but whenever Robert is reminded of that time it shocks him how much has changed, how much he has changed.

Last year he could’ve never had imagined being in a proper relationship with Aaron, let alone be together with him in public. Robert can’t believe he used to think people would care about it or judge him for it. People might be wary of Robert because of the mistakes he made, the cheating but not because he’s with Aaron.

He wishes he could have known sooner, wishes he didn’t cause all this hurt and nearly lose Aaron forever.

Of course he knows why he genuinely believed that being honest about wanting to be with Aaron would be the end of the world back then. Sometimes it’s still hard to battle through his feelings and thoughts about his sexuality, maybe it always will be hard.

He looks at Aaron, his boyfriend watching him in concern and Robert realises he must have been standing there with one shirt in his hand for at least a few seconds, just staring into space.

He feels safe in the knowledge that one day he will find the words to tell Aaron everything.

“You okay?” Aaron’s asking and Robert nods, smiling.

“You looked sad.” Aaron says, not letting it go just yet.

Once again Robert is reminded of how much Aaron cares about him, sees him.

“I’ve never been happier actually.” Robert says sincerely and Aaron smiles again.

#final chapter time <3 #robron fics #mary writes fic

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hopeswriting · 3 years ago

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I meant to do a post about my thoughts on the Daily Life Arc now that I finished rereading it, but I can't seem to find the time and it's been a while now, and if I keep it up I'll forget what my thoughts are to begin with lol, so here's the long story short:

I know it's a long arc, as in it starts being boring and more or less unbearable past some point, because the "gag of the chapter" format only takes you so far, and not actually very far if Amano's humor doesn't work on you much, if at all. I don't think it's an arc you can reread right away/soon either, lest you feel that one flaw even faster.

And I felt it too, starting with the fourty-something chapters I felt like it was dragging on too much, though to be fair that probably had to do too with the fact I knew things much more interesting were coming after that.

Still, all that said, like, it's an enjoyable arc. Amano's humor happens to work on me, and she does it really well, and I liked reading the arc. There are some chapters where you're really asking yourself why they were written for lol, but even then you read it for the characters, and it somehow keeps you going.

And like, even though I think Amano could have seen the fact the comedy was going to turn repetitive and thus boring at some point, and try to diversify it or something, it's just how comedy/humor/gags works? Some jokes land and some doesn't, but for me at least a lot more of them worked than not.

The DLA is a good enough arc is what I'm saying.

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On than note and on the contrary, of course it's fine if you think it's a bad arc, to each their opinion, but personally I really don't agree it's an unnecessary one.

I'm saying this because apparently it's not uncommon to advice new fans to skip the arc and directly start with the Kokuyo one? (Or so I learned on TV Tropes anyway, this might or might not be still relevent/accurate.)

Now don't get me wrong, the DLA does fail to hook the readers to the story for the reasons stated above, I agree with that, but it literally introduces the main character? And all the other characters, and gets us to know them, and establishes the dynamics between them and why they're the way they are, and, though only in a more or less superficial manner (and more than less) by design of the arc's purpose (not being deep in any way lol), it still gives us an insight into the characters and why they're the way they are. A glimpse into the core of their personality, the "stakes" of their characters, the flaws they have to overcome.

And all that in the context of their daily life, so if you skip it to go directly to the arc that challenges them, you can't appreciate fully how they rise to the challenge, how it shows their growth or reasserts their core values. You can't know how much or what it means, for example, off the top of my head, to have Yamamoto sacrifice his arm to beat Ken, when only a year ago he tried to kill himself over his broken arm. Or Hibari losing against Mukuro, thus telling us how much of a real threat he was. Or Tsuna screaming at Lancia for having hurt his friends, anger on his face, clearly despite himself, that Dame-Tsuna.

All these just wouldn't hit you the same, and it'd be such a shame? I mean I guess the ones who start with the Kokuyo arc go back to read the DLA, or you could compromise like the anime did by splitting the DLA between more serious arcs, but like I said I personally don't find the DLA that bad, so I still wouldn't advice it lol.

Even if, I suppose, it'd mean they might give up on the manga somewhere through the DLA, but like? Some mangas just don't speak to you, and that's fine, and it'd be a little of a shame from my POV as a KHR fan, but still, no big deal.

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I'm still very impressed with how smoothly Amano went from a gag manga to a shonen one, and how she made it so the DLA still fits with the rest. I mean the sudden change in tone/stakes/etc is jarring, sure, but it's all based on stuff she introduced in the DLA, which she presumably came up with with no intention to ever make it something deeper/more meaningful.

It's easy to believe the foreshadowing, and generally speaking the worldbuilding was planned all along, which, again, probably not, and like? Super impressive.

(Though once more don't get me wrong, there are inconsistencies/plot holes in Amano's plotlines and worldbuilding, but not, like, at their seams, if I can say it like that? It's more often in the details, and it's fairly easy to fill in the blanks ourselves.)

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Finally it was a lot of fun to rediscover the characters in a new light, and a bit of a disbelieving surprise tbh.

For context before I started my reread of the manga, all this time I was going with the time I read/watched it years ago plus the times I skimmed it, but mostly by all the fanon I was consuming. And it's not to say fanon is wrong per se, but it latched on one to three character's traits, or slapped an easy character archetype on them easy to "relate" to within, and apparently never looked back lol. And also often dialed up those traits (good or bad) in a very noticeable manner.

What I'm saying is, fanon is, in fact, wrong sometimes zldnslsz, and the characters are much more nuanced even in the DLA! (Which still leaves us at a more or less superficial level, because, you know lol, but still!)

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To name the ones that stood out to me the most:

Nana isn't abused by Iemitsu, nor is she unhappy in her marriage despite Iemitsu being an absent husband (which is not relevent in the context of the DLA, but still, you can tell). She isn't an abusive mother to Tsuna either, and she is literally never an airhead. She literally just isn't, she actually does react very normally to the crazy Reborn brings with him, but much like Yamamoto as long as no one gets hurt (or walks it off), she just brushes it off.

And she has friends she goes listen to piano recitals with, and tries to save on money by eating rests, and gets in two-way arguments with Tsuna, and raises his allowance if he gets better grades to push him to work harder, and all around is just your average mom that really didn't read as just The Mom, if you know what I mean.

She has her flaws, definitely, she's not a great mom, namely is apparently used to call Tsuna Dame-Tsuna, but she's not just that.

She takes care of him, worries over him, and seems to be the only one who hasn't given up on him yet when the story starts. She supports him (though sometimes in a tactless to hurtful way), praises him when he does well, and trusts him to watch over the kids.

She's not that bad is what I'm saying, and 100% redeemable (that is, if you think she needs to be redeemed to begin with, which I actually do think she does, calling Tsuna Dame of all things is just a really shitty thing to do.)

(Though it's interesting to note that she doesn't do it again after what happened with Kyoko iirc, even if she might very well still talk to him in a belittling way at times. I just wish Amano would have commit fully to acknowledge it and resolve it, what with already having made it Kyoko's Dying Will Regret.)

(Edit: I had forgotten but she literally forgets his birthday while preparing someone else's birthday, so I take back that she is 100% redeemable because it's being too nice. But my point still stands.)

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Haru is literally such a fun character, it makes me even more sad now to know what Amano did with her (nothing ansknslq 😭😂).

She's unhinged, has zero impulse control, does not reflect on the consequences of her lack of impulse control as Tsuna points it out, is ready and willing to throw hands at any given moment and is unapologetic of it, and is the one Amano actually calls an airhead.

The only problem she had with the mafia is that she thought Tsuna was forcing it on Reborn, and when she confirmed it was all true she literally didn't even blink at it, and immediately called herself the future Decimo's wife djosdkkd.

On that note she is literally mafia right from her first appearance, is more or less involved in almost all the mafia shenanigans, was right there with Tsuna & Co when they went to destroy the Tomaso's headquarters.

And like?? Amano could just have left it at that if she wasn't going to do anything else/more with it. Haru had so much potential, and not only Amano did nothing with it, she actually watered her down and took away all her distinct character's traits 😭.

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Hibari is so much more feral and playful than his fanon cool, overpowered, quiet badass counterpart. Which I love too, don't get me wrong, but these two sides of him don't have to be exclusive!

He talks and smiles and jokes often, and shows off and casually insults you, and licks the blood away from his lips after having beaten bloody other middle schoolers who dared to defy him (I know this happens in the Kokuyo arc, but it illustrates my point the best).

Not much more to add than that, we should just acknowledge that and put it in our works more often.

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Gokudera is a compelling character from the get go, and as far as the DLA goes, he's the most compelling character second to Tsuna. He's the only one to actually have flashbacks and a backstory. And what stood out to me the most that I don't see often in fanon, is that he's really a good friend.

Yes he has a short fuse and snaps easily and is easy to anger, but he's not always angry. And is seen having and being capable of positive exchanges outside of Tsuna (I'm thinking Yamamoto namely, who's made with Ryohei to be the one he gets angry with the most).

And yes he holds Tsuna on a pedestal and sees him through heavily tinted pink glasses, but even through that he's earnestly a good friend. And tries his best, and is hardworking and overachieving, so much so he messes up without meaning to, but he only ever has honest, straight-forward good intentions behind it all (well, maybe not always lol).

I love him a lot more now is what I'm saying.

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And Tsuna. I'm not sure I'll be able to articulate my thoughts properly, but like... he's just your average teenager. Which of course is his whole thing, and I'm saying it in a very not judgy way whatsoever, but he's often made to be at least a little more than that, namely about his bullying.

Like, it's kind of dramatised in fics? And I'm not going to elaborate on that more because it might come out wrong and I don't want that, but it's just, like—canonically he is just bullied, simple as that. Like many other teenagers are.

And it's all in a "chill" way (for unfortunate lack of a better word, I don't mean to trivialize bullying at all, it's wrong and unfair and never deserved or okay, just so we're clear), and by the time the story starts Tsuna is used to it and has given up fighting against it, and actually finds refuge and a twisted comfort in embracing his Dame-Tsuna's monicker, because at least he's not gonna hit rock bottom deeper than that if he does.

And I'm not actually going anywhere with this, it's just? It hit me how differently canon and fanon portray his bullying.

Back on the note of him being a (below) average teenager, Tsuna is not an uwu pure cinnamon roll too good for this world.

He's literally so quick to judge and criticise, whether in his head or out loud when he knows more the person (namely Haru lol, poor girl), it was actually a bit of a shock tbh lol. He snaps easily, and is lazy, does not want to try even one bit, and is happy to run away from his responsibilities whenever he can.

And not only I'm not saying that in a judgy way this time either, but I'm actually saying it in a good way. He really felt like your average middle schooler, and it was so refreshing to see. That, plus the fact the narrative never holds it against him, let alone punishes him for it even if he's made to grow out of these traits, and it's literally part of his character arc, is kind of unique for the shonen genre (maybe, I'm not exactly a specialist of shonen mangas lol).

And I can see why you'd want to change it in fics, but personally I think it really makes his character's arc even more meaningful.

#katekyo hitman reborn #khr #khr text post #daily life arc #i said long story short but this is actually the long story 😭#lile a lot of things i just really need to start to keep going uh sbdlsnks #if the read more doesn't work i'll add it on desktop as soon as i get my hands on a computer #in the meantime sorry about that #khr reread

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justahopelessssromantic · 4 years ago

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Wasted Time

“Well, I was going to request how they’re best friends, but girl is shy, doesn’t really know how to articulate that she likes Angel so while she is practicing to tell Angel, she says it to EZ and the only thing Angel hears is that she’s in love with EZ which breaks him. And she kind of goes to him cause he starts ignoring her and then confesses when he’s trying to walk away and like Coco and Gilly just go “Fuck,” Coco handed over a 20 dollar bill to Gilly. “Angel, how are you not gonna be the one to confess?” And then maybe smut? Cause she runs from him after she confesses cause she’s kind of like horrified lol and then he goes to see her kisses and smut.” @starrynite7114

A/N: Thank you so much for the request Twinnie! I feel so honored you entrusted me with your amazing idea! I hope it was all you wanted and more 😘. I love you so so much ❤️❤️❤️ And thank y’all so much for reading! I hope you all enjoy 💜

*gif not mine*

Warnings: Fluff, Angst, Smut. The works 😘 18+ Only.

"So, we still on for our horror movie marathon tonight?" You asked Angel as you walked with him into the scrapyard.

"Fuck, that's tonight?" He turned to you acting confused before he couldn't hold it in any longer and smiled.

You shook your head, shoving him playfully. "God you're such an asshole" You giggled as he rather dramatically over reacted in his stumbling from your shove.

He "regained" his balance as he chuckled. "Of course we're still on. I could never forget our monthly movie marathon."

Angel and you had been best friends since forever. You did everything together and were there for every high or low of each other's lives. When Angel began prospecting he knew he'd have less time for you so you came up with the deal that you would at least have one movie night every month where he could just focus on you giving you time together. For the most part this tradition had held up minus a few rescheduling but in the end you'd always still have your one night.

You looked forward to them every month. Each month you'd pick a different genre and you'd play movies all through the night staying up together. There was always lots of snacks, laughter, and conversation. It was those moments you cherished most and those moments that made it even harder to suppress your true feelings for Angel.

"Got to get in there for Templo," he said nodding towards the front entrance to the clubhouse. "I'll pick you up at eight. Don't forget to bring an extra pair of pants in case you piss yourself again." He smirked at you knowing how saying this would get under your skin. You were so easy to rile up he didn’t even really have to try anymore.

You smacked his chest. He could be so infuriating sometimes. "I did not piss myself! You and I both know I spilt my drink."

"Uh huh." He nodded, chuckling. "Whatever makes you feel better, querida."

"I didn't!" You protested. You could feel your face heating up as you became more flustered."Of course not." He held his hands up. "I'm just saying I left to make some more popcorn and when I came back…" he trailed off. He loved seeing you like this, all worked up. He thought it was adorable.

"What I remember is you left then proceeded to sneak up on me and scare the shit out of me during a jump scare which caused my drink to spill all over me." You crossed your arms staring him down trying to push down the ever creeping embarrassment.

"Well I guess we'll just have to see what happens tonight and then we'll know who's telling the truth." He teased some more, watching how you were trying to keep up the tough exterior. Leaning over he gave you a kiss on the cheek secretly wanting to kiss you properly but pushing the thought to the back of his mind. "I can't wait for tonight." He said as he walked away and towards the clubhouse. He turned back once calling out to you "eight o'clock"

"Eight o'clock." You agreed, giving him a smile as you watched him until he disappeared out of sight.

"Aren't you two cute."

You jumped turning around and smacking EZ's arm. "What the hell is wrong with you Reyes boys." You held your hand to your chest trying to settle your thumping heart down.

"Sorry." He grinned. "Didn't know you'd be so jumpy, but then again you always get sucked into your own little world with Angel, blocking everything out but him. It's adorable." He teased. "Why exactly is it you still haven't confessed your feelings yet?"

You sighed deeply. Right now you were wishing you had never told EZ about how you were madly in love with his brother but you needed someone to talk to and EZ was your shoulder to cry on after you had found out Angel had a date with some other girl. Hearing that broke you but thankfully it didn't last long.

"It's not like I haven't tried." You ran your hand over your face peeking back out at EZ. "Shit I've tried so many times," you whined uncovering your face. "But every time my stomach just jumbles in knots and I feel like I'm gonna hurl and I can't even form a coherent sentence I just stumble over whatever it is I'm trying to spit out." You huffed crossing your arms, "Why is it that the easiest person for me to talk to also happens to be the hardest?" With Angel you could tell him anything and that's what made it all the more frustrating that you couldn't seem to get this one thing, possibly the most important thing out.

EZ felt for you, he really did. You and Angel would be the perfect couple if one of you would just get the guts to finally tell the other how you really felt. "Pretend I'm Angel." He offered.

"What?" You widen your eyes not liking where you were certain this was going.

"Well the only way to get better at something is practice, right?" EZ stated matter of factly. "Just try it. Pretend I'm Angel and tell me how you feel."

"This is ridiculous." You tried to protest but EZ just gave you a look telling you he wasn't going to let it go. "Promise you won't make fun of me." You mumbled giving in.

"You know me (Y/N). I wouldn't do that." He placed his hand on your shoulder reassuring you making you feel more comfortable with the idea.

"Ok well." You hesitated a moment gathering your courage and your thoughts. You took a deep breath ready to say what you've been wanting to for so long now. "I'm in love with you, Angel.” You started feeling a little silly but continuing on anyways. “I think I first discovered my feeling that first movie night when you checked every hidden place in my house to ensure there was nothing hiding in wait for me and then spent the whole night with me so I would feel safe." You smiled fondly at the memory getting lost in your words. "It was from then on that I just kept falling. I love you, have always loved you, and will never stop loving you." It felt good to finally get it all out. Your smile grew as you looked at EZ. Tonight would be the night. You were finally going to tell Angel you were in love with him.

However, what you didn't know was that Angel had come back out after Templo to see if you were still around. He was just coming around the side of the building when he heard you say the most heartbreaking words to his brother. That you loved him and always would love him. Again EZ was the better option, taking another person from his life. His chest tightened. The feeling was so constricting he felt like he couldn't breath. Turning back around quickly he made his way as far away from you two as he could before stopping on the other side of the building and leaning his back against it for support. He couldn't believe he could be so stupid. And to think he had it all planned out, tonight would be the night he was going to confess his love for you once and for all. He mentally kicked himself for being such a fool.

Needless to say that night Angel did not pick you up for your movie night. He wouldn’t even pick up his phone or answer your texts. You brushed it off, he must have got caught up in club stuff and you’d reschedule like you had in the past but that never happened.

You came by the clubhouse the next day and were told he was busy. Again you brushed it off but you could only do that so many times.

You were talking to EZ on the phone complaining to the youngest brother, “Do you know what is going on with your brother?”

“I have no clue,” EZ said honestly. “I haven’t spoken much with him. He’s been avoiding me for some reason. He won’t talk to me.”

You felt better knowing it wasn’t just you getting the cold shoulder but you still couldn’t think of any reason behind Angel’s actions. “Huh,” you said. “Okay, well I’m going by the scrapyard today. He’s going to talk to me whether he likes it or not.”

“Good luck,” EZ said. “Let me know what you find out.”

You stormed into the scrapyard coming up behind Angel as he worked on his bike. “Why the hell are you avoiding me?!” You snapped crossing your arms. You had enough of whatever was going on and wouldn’t back down until you had some answers.

Angel let out a long sigh in frustration when he heard your voice. Chucky had one job. He stood up wiping his hands on his pants and turning around to face you. He shook his head brushing you off, “I’m not avoiding you.”

“Really?” You laughed bitterly. “Okay then what exactly would you call what you’ve been doing?”

“I’ve just been busy.” He said leaning back against his bike. He didn’t want to have this conversation now or ever. It was too painful for him to see you and picture his brother by your side.

“Too busy for me?” You asked.

Angel could hear the hurt in your voice and it just made everything that much harder on him. He didn’t want to lose you or cause you pain but he couldn’t stand the thought of you being with EZ more. He had to look out for himself and until he could move past you being around you was a terrible idea.

“What about our movie nights?” You added. It was really about the movie nights it was about missing him. Angel was a huge part of your life and to have him ignoring you, not being able to talk to him, it just felt like there was a giant Angel shaped hole in your heart. Your life just wanted the same without him around.

“Thought you’d rather have them with EZ now.”

“EZ? Why would I want to do that with EZ?” Now you were really confused. “That’s our thing, Angel.”

“I don’t know maybe because I love you, have always loved you, and will never stop loving you.” He mocked you. “I fucking heard you (Y/N). You could’ve at least given me a heads up before you professed your love to my brother. I thought we told each other everything but apparently not.” Now he couldn’t hold back the jealousy that had wrecked through him. It hurt him, you hurt him and he wanted you to feel just as shitty as he had. “I’m not doing this now.” Angel huffed walking past you, brushing by you as he went.

It was all coming together now in your mind. Angel somehow must have heard you when you were practicing with EZ and now it made so much sense why he was avoiding you both.

“God you are so infuriating sometimes!” You snapped yelling after him. You rarely raised your voice to anyone let alone him so you definitely got the attention of everyone around. All this time you were thinking you must have done something wrong, your mind running around in circles trying to figure it out and it was all just because of a fucking misunderstanding. “I wasn’t confessing my love to EZ, you jackass! I was practicing confessing to you!” You yelled at him. At this point you didn’t care anymore. You were only thinking about the idiot whose back was to you. “Fuck, because for some reason I’m in love with you Angel!” You finally got out. When all was said and done however everything you had just said out loud finally registered. The adrenaline ran out of your body just as quickly as it had surged through leaving you feeling embarrassed and vulnerable. Two things you hated feeling the most.

Angel stopped in his tracks as his mind processed what you had just said.

Fight or flight kicked in fast for you and before you knew it you had spun around and were rushing out of the scrapyard and to your car before anyone could say anything to you. You were mortified and humiliated. Now everyone knew and you were sure they were all having a good laugh at you.

“Did you just say you loved me?” He asked, turning around expecting to see you there but only finding Gilly and Coco standing there.

“Fuck,” Coco grumbled slipping a twenty out and passing it to Gilly who took it with a smug grin. He was certain Angel would be the one to have the balls to confess to you first but apparently he was wrong about his hermano. “Angel, how are you not going to be the one to confess?”

“Fuck,” Angel groaned running his hand over his beard, tugging at the end. “I fucked up, didn’t I?”

“Yeah, you fucked up bad.” Gilly agreed.

Curled up on your couch with your favorite pair of sweatpants on and worn down shirt you scrolled through the various titles on Netflix trying to distract your mind but nothing was really sticking out at you. You wanted to sink into yourself and wallow in the horrible feeling of having just word vomited your feelings for everyone to hear. You hugged the pillow tighter to your chest and buried your face into its plush material groaning.

A knock on your door pulled you away from your moment. Your stomach grumbled as you sat up assuming the pizza you had ordered had finally arrived. You hurried over to the door not really caring that you looked like a mess only wanting the delicious food awaiting you on the other side.

You swung the door open heart stopping as you saw Angel standing there on the other side. Your face immediately turned to a scowl. “What are you doing here?” You asked him.

“Querida, I just want to talk about earlier.”

You turned back walking into your home knowing Angel would follow you in. “If you’re here to make fun of me some more I’d rather you just left.” You plopped back onto your couch burying your face in your hands

Angel cautiously approached you, crouching down in front of you. “I’m not here to make fun of you (Y/N).” He said taking your hands in his and gently pulling them away from your face.

You still couldn’t bring yourself to make full eye contact with him as you looked around. “Then why are you here?”

“I’m here because,” he said, preparing himself to tell you what he had been wanting to tell you for years now. “I’m here because I’m in love with you too.”

“What?” You asked, meeting his gaze now, melting under his soft eyes. “Don’t play with me Angel.” You couldn't take it if this was some attempt at a joke.

“I’m not playing, mi dulce.” Angel reassured you, running his thumbs soothingly across the back of your hands. Having your touch against his gave him the courage to go on. “I love you, (Y/N). I’ve been in love with you but feared you would never feel the same way about me so I kept it to myself. You’re my best friend, I can’t lose you. I didn’t want to put what we had in jeopardy.”

“Angel, you should have told me.” You said. Your heart was beating faster now as you were very aware of his touch. “We were supposed to tell each other everything.”

“Yeah we were.” Angel chuckled now feeling ridiculous for how blown up things had gotten. “Well I’m telling you now. I love you, (Y/N).” He said once more.

You smiled biting your bottom lip as you looked at his lips. “Well what are you waiting for then?” You asked him feeling more bold now. “Are you going to kiss me or what?”

Angel grinned standing up some and cupping your face in his large hands. You wrapped your arms around his neck as he pulled you to the ground with him bringing his lips to yours. Straddling his lap he ran his hands down your back as your tongues tangled together. Reaching the hem of your shirt he pulled away to slip the fabric over your head groaning when he saw you weren’t wearing a bra.

You instinctively went to wrap your arms around your chest feeling small under his gaze but he caught your arms before you could do so. His gaze lingered on your chest making you even more nervous until he looked back up into your eyes. “Fuck, you’re absolutely stunning.”

You smiled gasping out as he leaned over pulling your nipple into his mouth and swirling his tongue around the nub. You ran your hands through his hair as you threw your head back, overwhelmed by the stimulation. You bit your lip holding back a moan as his hand traveled down your stomach and into your sweats.

Angel slipped his middle finger between your lips loving how wet you already were. He ran his finger up and down gathering your juices before settling on your clit running circles around it. You bit your lip harder, legs jolting involuntarily at the sensation. You pulled on his hair causing him to growl against your skin making you even wetter.

He kissed and sucked his way up your body settling into the crook of your neck as his fingers made quick work of bringing you over the edge. Your eyes rolled back as you cried out his name, the sound being like music to Angel's ears. He captured your lips with his sucking on your bottom lip as he guided you through the shockwaves of your orgasm.

Angel pulled back smirking as he watched you catch your breath, your breasts rising and falling with each ragged breath you took. He took great pride in knowing that your pleasure had come from him. He laid you down gently on the floor removing his cut and shirt before leaning down to hover above you. His hand ran up your side sending a shiver through your body.

He kissed you slowly, savoring the taste of you. Angel pulled away causing you to whine as you tugged on his bottom lip not wanting him to part from you. Your neediness for him only made him that much harder.

"Do you know how many nights I've dreamt of this moment?” He purred, licking his lips as he looked you up and down, loving how exposed you were to him. “Of your body against mine, my name spilling from your lips like a prayer as you claw at my back.” He smirked down at you as he looked into your eyes, so dark with lust. “How many times I've woken up in a sweat with the taste of you on my tongue and the aching need for you in my bed."

You weren’t going to lie, everything he was saying was just turning you on more, making your body burn for his touch, for him to fill you up. You wanted him and no one else ever again. “Angel,” you breathed out still coming down from your release.

“Yes?"

“Would you please just shut up,” you smirked at him “And fuck me already.”

Angel chuckled, his own eyes darkening now.“As you wish, querida. But just know you asked for it.”

Making quick work of discarding his pants you did the same both checking each other out thoroughly once you were both bare. You licked your lips as you stared at his thick cock.

“You like what you see?” Angel asked, cockily noticing your gaze. “Cause I sure as hell do.”

“What did I say about the talking?” You teased.

If you wanted Angel to fuck you then that’s what he was going to fucking do. He’d make sure he’d be the one you wouldn’t forget and if he had it his way it would be just you and him for the rest of your lives. Bringing his hand between your knees he spread you out before him giving him a better view of your slick pussy.

He grabbed himself teasing you, stroking the tip of his cock up and down your slit gathering your juices. You whined some more reaching up to bring him down to you. He could only hold out so long himself before giving in. Slipping in slowly your mouth fell open as he stretched you out. You wrapped your legs around his waist as he stayed still a moment allowing you to adjust around him.

“Fuck, you’re so tight.” He grunted looking down to watch as he began his movements, thrusting in and out at a slow pace.

He felt so good filling you up, you’ve never felt so full but you needed more from him or you’d go crazy. You reached up tilting his chin to look at you instead of where you came together as one. “Angel, baby,” you pleaded. “I need you to pick up the pace.” You gasped out as he thrusted deeper.

Doing as you wished he leaned down sucking on your flesh as he began pounding into you faster. You reached out to him, your hands finding their way to his back and digging in. He hissed out at the sting loving the way you reacted to him. He kept up the pace as your walls tightened around him. Your breath was ragged as his name spilled from your lips just as he had dreamed. You arched your back into his chest as his thrusts became more frantic. Reaching down he began running quick circles around your clit with his thumb speeding up your release.

You felt the familiar sensation gather in the pit of your stomach. Before you knew it you were whisked away into an euphoric state, Angel giving you a few more good thrusts before he twitched inside you spilling out and filling you up, moaning out your name.

Angel collapsed down just barely holding his weight off of you as he groaned into the crook of your neck leaving a few sloppy kisses. He picked his head up with a dopey grin on his face. “God I fucking love you.”

“That good, huh?” You teased breathless and beat.

“The best.” He smirked leaning down and giving you one more kiss before pulling out of you and plopping down beside you.

You both stared up at the ceiling just listening to the other’s shallow breaths, your bodies sticky and sweaty.

“Just give me a minute and I’ll be ready for round two.” Angel chuckled from beside you. Your favorite sound in the world.

After a few moments you flipped over on your side propping your head up with one arm and walking your fingers up his chest with the other. “You ready for round two yet?” You asked, smiling sweetly at him.

Turning over on his side he pulled you close to his chest. His hand found his way to your ass giving you a good smack causing you to squeal out. You pulled back giving his chest a smack. “Asshole.” You muttered, the smile still finding its way to your lips regardless.

“I’m ready now.” He smirked, wiggling his eyebrows before pushing you over and pinning you down beneath him. He kissed your jaw and down your neck getting lower and lower when there was a knock on the door.

Angel groaned picking his head up to look at you. “Who the fuck is that?”

Your face lit up as you sat up. “Pizza!” You smiled at Angel remembering the pizza you had ordered before Angel came over. Reaching over you grabbed Angel’s plaid and pulled it on buttoning it up, smiling at him. “I hope you don’t mind.”

“Not at all,” he grinned. “Looks better on you anyways. Angel grabbed his boxer briefs, slipping them on quickly. “I got it.” He said standing up and walking over to your front door to receive the food.

Getting up off the ground you climbed onto the couch sitting on your knees as you eagerly watched Angel bring the pizza back to you. He set it down on the table beside you grabbing a slice and settling into the soft cushions. Crawling over you snuggled into his lap, your back against his chest after grabbing your own slice. By now you were both starving after having worked up quite the appetite.

Angel grabbed the remote turning on your tv and going to Netflix. “So what shall it be tonight?” He asked, determined to keep the movie night tradition going.

You looked over at him giving him a smile before settling back in against him. “Hmm,” you thought it over for a minute, “How about Nightmare on Elm Street?”

“Okay,” Angel agreed, staring the film up and wrapping his pizza free arm around you. “You know how much fucking time we wasted when we could have been doing this?” He wasn’t just talking about the sex but everything. Having you in his arms, as his girl, eating pizza, conveniently after some great fucking sex was his idea of a perfect night and now here you were. “I’m done with that. I’m not going to waste a single moment with you ever again.” He promised and from that day forward he never did.

Everything Tag List: @jad3djay @fairygardenss @carlaangel86 @briannab1234 @starrynite7114 @agirllovespasta @howaboutash @gemini0410 @naytraydr @knowles-morgan @woahitslucyylu @everyhowlmarksthedead @ktiz90 @brothersofmayhem @ifoundmyhappythought @vsfavs @scuzmunkie @chibsytelford @briana-mishell24 @curvynerdfan

#angel reyes #angel reyes imagine #angel reyes x reader #mayans mc #mayans mc imagine #request

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allsassnoclass · 4 years ago

Text

you could bring down my level of concern

Michael is having a bad night. Ashton picks him up for ice cream

read on ao3

It’s just after one in the morning, and Michael doesn’t trust his ability to keep it together. He’s felt like his skin has been pressed too tightly the entire day, and that was before he realized that there’s an entire book he was supposed to read for his contemporary literature class, sitting untouched on his dresser. He’s got so many tabs open on his computer of assignments that he needs to finish, and he keeps forgetting that he has to email the financial aid office or he’s going to get a late fee on his bills but he can’t exactly email them now at one in the morning because they’re going to think he can’t get his life together on top of being an idiot for forgetting for so long. He’s been restlessly switching between different social media platforms and opening up Netflix only to close it again when nothing seems to fit, steadfastly ignoring the book, the articles he’s supposed to read with it, and all of the other homework for his music classes.

Shit. He didn’t practice today, and his professor is going to be able to tell when he has his lesson tomorrow.

Michael shifts and unlocks his phone again, but nothing has changed in the three seconds he’s been gone. He stares at his home screen for a moment, a picture of him and Ashton from before they got back to campus this year, smiles wide and tucked close together.

He saw Ashton two days ago, but he hasn’t really seen him for at least two weeks. With the new university policies, they’re not allowed to hang out in Ashton’s dorm room or Michael’s apartment anymore, nor be outside together without masks. This wouldn’t be such a big deal if they both were off campus and could sneak around, but Ashton is an RA. He’ll get immediately fired if they get caught, and if he somehow does manage to get the virus his entire floor will be put into official quarantine. It’s not just them who are at risk, and Ashton is too much of a bleeding heart to put all of his residents through that.

As such, Michael has eaten lunch outside with Ashton and facetimed him and spent a lot of time cuddled up to Calum to make up for the fact that he’s technically not allowed to touch Ashton (although no one has noticed them holding hands across the table, or a quick hug before they part for classes).

It’s getting chillier. When snow starts to fall, Ashton is going to need to concede to hanging out in Michael and Calum’s apartment, because they’re both going to go crazy without it.

Michael already feels like he’s going crazy. He has assignments and his dishes are dirty and he has no money and everything absolutely sucks and he misses his boyfriend, so he pulls out his phone and sends can you pick me up.

After a moment, he adds please.

Ashton could be asleep already, because he’s been trying really hard to seem well-adjusted for his senior year, and the thought makes panic bubble uncomfortably in Michael’s gut. He can’t get himself to start his tasks, and he can’t stop picking at his cuticles, a bad habit that everyone has been trying to help him break, and he’s been missing Ashton vaguely since they got back on campus but thinks he’s going to cry if he doesn’t get to see him tonight.

What if Ashton doesn’t want to see him?

Ashton wants you around, Michael says to himself, trying to remember everything his therapist has told him for when he feels like this. Just because outside circumstances are making it difficult doesn’t mean that he suddenly hates you.

His internal voice doesn’t sound very convincing. With the way everything has been going lately, Michael wouldn’t be surprised if Ashton suddenly dumped him and Calum moved out and Luke and the girls stopped talking to him so he was miserable and alone. That’s just about the only way things could get even worse, right?

He doesn’t want to jinx it.

His phone buzzes in his hand, and Michael glances down to see Ashton’s name pop up with the message be there in 5.

Everything snaps into focus when Ashton is near. This strange crawling sensation under his skin might not fully go away, but maybe it’ll lessen, and maybe Michael will be able to think about school without wanting to throw up.

He slips on a hoodie, shoves on some shoes, and barely remembers to grab his wallet and keys before he’s slipping on a mask and out the door, rushing down the stairs to get out of the apartment building. The night air does nothing to sooth him, feeling dense and muggy through his mask rather than light and crisp like he wants. Still, he looks up at the sky and tries to let the slight breeze he can feel against his forehead calm him a little, just enough to hold him over until he can get in Ashton’s car and hopefully breathe properly again.

He’s still trying in vain to find a star that hasn’t been drowned out by light pollution or clouds when Ashton’s car arrives, engine squeaking in a familiar way when he pulls up to the curb a bit too fast, as always. Michael makes his way to the passenger door and gets in.

“Hey, stranger. Need a ride?” Ashton quips, and Michael crumples. Ashton looks soft, wearing pajama pants and a large sweatshirt, hair messy and eyes tired but smile intact. Michael wants to cry, but instead he just feels uncomfortable, like Ashton is a stranger again and he doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do.

“Hey,” Ashton says gently, “what’s wrong?”

Michael shrugs.

“Okay,” Ashton says. “Do you want to take off your mask?”

He does, putting it in the pocket of his hoodie, and Ashton smiles.

“There he is,” he says, bringing a hand up to Michael’s cheek, and Michael leans into it, chasing the feeling of Ashton’s hands on his skin.

He’s missed this. Ashton seems to understand, shifting so he can thread his fingers through the hair at the back of Michael’s neck, then drawing him forward into a kiss. Michael’s hands come up to grip Ashton’s sweatshirt at the first brush of lips, pressing into it like he’s been drowning and Ashton is his first breath of fresh hair. Ashton makes a startled noise in the back of his throat, but responds in kind, opening his mouth when prompted and licking into Michael’s, taking control in the way they both like best. When they part for air a minute later, they don’t go far, pressing their foreheads together while Michael tries to make his fingers loosen their grip.

“Is there anything I can do?” Ashton asks eventually.

“No,” Michael says. “I don’t know. You’re doing it, I guess.”

He starts to pull away, and Ashton pecks him quickly on the lips again before he lets him.

“Where do you want to go?” Ashton asks.

“Away from campus,” Michael says.

“Ice cream?”

Michael nods, and Ashton starts the car.

The drive is quiet. Michael makes no move to turn on the radio or get the aux cord, and Ashton lets it be. Michael stares out the window, letting the houses and street lights pass by on the familiar route. There’s a Baskin Robbins attached to a Dunkin with 24-hour drive through, and they’ve made a lot of midnight runs there since they started dating. Some of Michael’s favorite memories from last year include sitting in the parking lot together, talking and laughing and sharing bites of ice cream when one of them got an unusual flavor. They managed to fit in two trips during the first weeks of the semester, but haven’t been able to go recently due to the campus lockdown.

About halfway there, Ashton reaches over and takes Michael’s hand, thumb rubbing soothing circles on it. Michael tries to focus on that, rather than the stretched-out feeling still present under his skin.

They pull up to the drive through and Ashton shifts the car into park. Despite the place not being busy at all, it has astoundingly slow service this late at night.

“Do you want your usual?” Ashton asks, and Michael nods. When they do eventually order, Ashton gets one scoop of cherry and one scoop of vanilla, and he gets Michael the chocolatiest thing on the menu. Ashton pays, and once they get their items he pulls into their usual parking space in the corner and turns the car off.

“So,” Ashton says when they’re a few bites in, “I really think you should tell me what’s wrong.”

Michael takes another bite of his ice cream and considers if he knows who to articulate this.

“I feel… bad,” he starts. “Just--like my skin is too tight, or something, and I can’t focus on anything but I also can’t not focus on anything. I’m tired but can’t sleep, the world is basically fucking ending and I’m somehow expected to read an entire book by tomorrow. I have so much I’m supposed to do and can’t make myself do any of it, and it’s not even that I don’t have the time, because nothing is happening! I hate trying to do music classes online, I can’t fucking see my friends, and I miss--”

He stops. Ashton waits patiently, letting the silence stretch out until Michael is ready to break it again.

“I miss you. I know we’re doing our best with what we can right now, but it still sucks.”

Ashton reaches out again, gentle hand landing on his arm. That makes Michael feel the closest he has to crying all night, but it’s still not quite enough. He wishes this were the type of upset that could be solved with a long hug and a cathartic cry, but it’s not. This discomfort is the type that gets into his bones and stays for a while.

Michael wishes the gear shift wasn’t in the way, so he could tuck himself against Ashton and hide there until this entire thing is over.

“Going to school right now fucking sucks, and I’m proud of you for handling it as well as you have been,” Ashton says. It’s a nice thing to say, but it’s useless right now. Michael knows that going to school right now sucks, and Ashton is always proud of him for doing the bare minimum. He hums anyway, because Ashton’s trying to help.

“Let’s eat our ice cream and make a plan for the rest of tonight and tomorrow,” Ashton says. “We’ll figure out the homework stuff, at least, and get to spend time together properly.”

“Can we sit on the hood?” he asks, and thankfully Ashton nods. The night air is crisper without his mask, or maybe it’s because they’re a bit further from the heart of the city. Either way, Michael presses close, not willing to forfeit time spent touching Ashton.

Luke is the clingiest out of all of them, but Michael hadn’t realized just how much he enjoyed touch until the virus hit and it was taken away from him. He was craving Ashton’s long before he wasn’t allowed to have it, and if he didn’t know that Ashton needs the money being an RA provides he would have begged him to quit and move in with him and Calum.

They talk about easy things as they eat, like the shift to Michael’s favorite type of weather that had happened recently and Ashton’s floor programs that he’s planning. Michael tells him about how Calum almost burnt the apartment down and they just barely avoided having the alarms go off, and Ashton gives an anecdote about residents trying to smuggle two of the campus lawn chairs into their rooms while he was on security.

“They’re just so stupid sometimes,” he says. “It really is not hard to get away with stuff like that if you put your mind to it, but they obviously didn’t.” He turns the story into an entire bit, complete with a funny imitation of their bad excuses when he caught them, and it makes Michael laugh. Some of the weird feeling dissipates.

Ashton gets out his notes app when they finish eating, and Michael leans his head on his shoulder to watch him type up the plan.

Michael will do his music theory homework tonight, but he’s going to stop once it hits three in the morning to go to bed regardless of how much is or is not done. Ashton will type up a detailed summary of the book he was supposed to read, since apparently it was his favorite when he took the class last semester as part of his major requirement, and have it emailed to Michael by the time his alarm goes off at 8 the next morning. Hopefully that will be enough for Michael to do the forum posts he’s supposed to, and he should still have time to do his ear training before class. They can meet up for lunch, then Michael can go to his other two classes, take a break until dinner, spend a bit of time in the practice room, and do his homework for the next day in the evening.

Calum has a study group then, and Michael likes working in the living room while he zooms the others. It’s easier to stay focused when Calum is, as well, and they’ve gotten into a routine of playing two rounds of Fifa, Smash, or MarioKart during well-timed breaks.

Marked out like this, the tasks look less overwhelming.

“Can you write that I need to email the student fees office during lunch?” he asks. Ashton nods and adds it to the list. “And dishes after dinner.”

It’s not too bad when it’s notated like this, and if he doesn’t get his theory homework done tonight he won’t completely fail the class as long as he does all of the other work, although he knows that letting himself slip with one assignment always makes it easier to neglect them in the future, to near-disastrous results. His lesson might be less-than-stellar tomorrow, but at least Dr. O is nice about it. He’ll be disappointed, and Michael might cry because he hates falling short of his expectations, but he won’t be mean.

“Doable?” Ashton asks. Michael nods. Ashton takes a screenshot of the note and texts it to Michael, then grabs his hand as they sit in silence for a few more minutes.

“We should get back,” Michael says eventually.

“We can stay a bit longer,” Ashton says. He tightens his grip on Michael’s hand, and maybe

Ashton has been missing him just as much. Michael presses a kiss to his shoulder.

“I have to do my theory homework, and you’re ready for bed,” he says.

“Wait,” Ashton says as he starts to shift away. Michael pauses, and Ashton’s hands shift to his waist, leaning in for a deep kiss. He melts into it, toes curling at the single-minded focus Ashton dedicates to it. They shift for a better angle, Ashton leaning against the windshield and Michael following him down, and it takes all of Michael’s self-control to pull away before things become too heated.

“I don’t want to give the Baskin Robbins employee a free show,” he says. Ashton’s fingers dip under his hoodie and shirt, chilly from either the ice cream or the fall air. Michael shivers at the light brush at the small of his back, and Ashton gives him a lopsided smile.

“It’d be the most interesting thing they’ll see tonight,” he says.

“It’ll also get the police called on us for public indecency,” Michael says. “Can’t believe I’m having to be the responsible one about this, Mr. I-Am-A-Mature-Resident-Advisor-Who-Will-Do-No-Wrong.”

“You make me feel adventurous,” Ashton says. Michael hums and kisses him again, and Ashton doesn’t try to escalate it.

“Okay,” Ashton says. “Let’s go back.”

They get in the car, and Michael pulls up a gentle playlist for the ride back. Ashton hums along to the first song, and something else in Michael’s gut dissipates. He still feels a bit weird, but he thinks it’s manageable now. He has a plan, and he has Ashton, and if previous experience is any indicator he should feel okay by the time he wakes up tomorrow morning.

Michael watches Ashton tap out an easy beat on the steering wheel with his thumbs, and takes another deep breath.

Things are kind of fucked now, but it won’t be like this forever. He’ll be okay.

#my writing #mashton #5sos fanfic #this is genuinely just. so much projection #so much #also though as I was writing this I fell in love with the universe so #maybe college mashton will be what I work on when nothing else works

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skamamoroma · 4 years ago

Text

Anon, that post wouldn’t format properly so I’m posting this here instead. You asked me expand on why I always refer to Nico as being surrounded by metaphor. Strap yourself in! I get carried away talking about this stuff. I have written much of this back around s2 but I have tried to keep it to examples. I hope this is what you were after!

In overview, this is why I love them as a pair so much. They are VERY different but they also work so well to balance each other out. Where Marti is A LOT, Nico adds a little perspective. Where Nico is a little overwhelmed by his feelings, Marti brings the simplicity. When Marti needs to see beyond his own head, Nico facilitates it. Etc.

You’re right, I’ve always liked to say that:

Nico is metaphorical, Marti is a literalist.

This is what s2 was founded on and the following are examples I can think of (and there are probably many more!) that show how Besse included this so much throughout their story.

The foundation of their Last Man On Earth metaphor is most important here. I have written POST after POST on this but, in summary, Marti presenting this isea as Isak did with parallels universes upset Nico as Even was overwhelmed by the idea of multiple universes. Nico felt overwhelmed by the idea of isolation. But, considering his currently life was causing him difficulty as he felt stifled and trapped, spoken for and unable to be his truthful self, Nico craved comfort, escape and acceptance but ultimately to be listened to. We saw him descend into this struggle especially after the clip with his mamma. He consistently signalled to Marti he hadn’t given up and was trying... red string, notes, antidote prep...but he chose to lean into Marti’s apocalyptic universe. By accepting it as their little world, Nico only considered it if they were BOTH the last men, if Marti would be with him too and without anything else to impact them. They’d be safe and free from society or parents or girlfriends or anyone else who was weighing in. Nico changed his mind and it brought him comfort. Not only that, he constructed this world as a way to escape and comfort himself but also as a way to communicate with Marti on his plans for how they could be together. Eventually, Nico became so engrossed in the idea, he lived it. He created their apocalypse in Milan, looked out at the world as Marti lay in bed and accepted the world was empty and he was safe to be with Marti. He lost himself a little (a lot?) in the metaphor, bless him.

Nico hid that vial of “vaccine” for Marti to find, attaching a note that effectively said “I finished my search. I found the vaccine. You can use it to either cure the people or cure me” - my lovely Nico and his metaphorical ways effectively saying “I took some time to try to work this stuff out and to try to be with you and I am giving you a choice here: you can end this whole thing with me and end our little world we built or you can use it on me and accept me into your life”. His “impossible personality” being something Nico thinks needs to be cured and that Marti would want to change him. He knows nothing can be “cured” but he tried to tell Marti about his BPD and illness in the only way he knew how. He wanted to be different, to be “easier” and tried to give Marti a way out without being completely honest... because it was the only way he knew how to articulate it at the time. He leans into metaphors to make sense of stuff!

La Giraffa. My personal favourite. Stefano Benni and that FUCKING BEAUTIFUL quote. “La giraffa ha il cuore lontano dai pensieri” - the giraffe has its heart far away from its thoughts” and the resulting “it fell in love yesterday but doesn’t know it yet”. Nico sent this metaphorical idea to Marti to help explain in the only way he knew how about his mental illness. He didn’t feel able to be open and blunt, not like Marti, so he reached out in this way. The giraffe being Nico. His illness and his heart not being mutually exclusive, telling Marti his feelings for him were real and that him having a mental illness doesn’t mean he can’t love and be loved and that he isn’t his illness. Still moves me to this day. I have a legit giraffe on my wall in my flat because I took this quote to heart so deeply. Marti being Mr Literalist, didn’t get it 😂 Nico choosing a giraffe as his other companion in his Last Man scenario, an animal who would understand him... he is such a lovely thoughtful soul.

The red light scene in Milan. Oh I love this moment so. Nico steps into the room and asks Marti what it says. Marti being literal is like “how?” And tried to read it in English. Nico being Mr Metaphor is like “No Marti, it says Marti.... and Nico”. He’s in world builder mode, turning his surroundings into what he wants them to be. He sees the world differently. He surrounds them with meaning and suggests they’re in a place just for them, that this red room (RED) is theirs, their names are even on the wall. Then kisses Marti’s heart. LORD. The whole scene is a metaphor while Marti is just taken along for the ride.

Nico also chose 2 other things alongside Marti and a giraffe for his apocalyptic scenario: an airplane and nakedness. Freedom/escape and openness/the true self and no barrier between him and the world. Boy knew what he was saying. Marti didn’t have a bloody clue, lying there and saying he’d choose to mess up the Pope’s toilets 😂 oh Marti.

The red string. Nico and his little ways of showing Marti he cares. The idea of the red string of fate, the way Nico kicked off their apocalyptic story with a romantic treasure hunt while signaling that Marti is his destiny, that Marti should “follow”... those shots of beautifully endlessly blue Marti following the bold red string (with those god damn blue and red art pieces in the background - when will Ludo submit to being grilled by me about his metaphorical symbolism). Nico was asking Marti to follow and not leave him being even if he wasn’t able to stay. It was his way of signalling to Marti he was still there, still trying, still asking Marti to stick with him even if he had to leave for a while.

Nico ended up so engulfed in shame during the minute by minute scene. He descended into his own head, crying into the pillow and feeling so full of shame that he couldn’t look at Marti. He couldn’t lean on anything to help him in that moment. I love the contrast with Marti because Marti effectively states these simple pieces of information that bit by bit takes Nico out of that moment and eases his mind: “I’m here”, “you don’t know what will happen” and “let’s take each day, calmly, together”. Nico’s tiny little smile after Marti says that makes me want to cry because you can see the “he is perfect for me” all over his face. Marti is so GOOD for Nico without really realising.

Nico, deep in his head, overwhelmed by shame but for the first time trying his best to be open, referring to their Last Man world once more when he sent that text. It was his acceptance that the entire time he was trying to use it as a way to tell Marti that they could be together and he could change and they could escape...it was useless because he’d realised it didn’t matter as we’re all alone anyway. Saying he was choosing to see Marti in the twinkle lights. Knowing Marti was in one of them comforted him. Marti... being Marti... was like “screw that, I’m here and not a metaphorical light in the distance, you don’t need that metaphor to not be alone. I want you like this, no changes, just be honest with me”. As simple as that. He’s not alone. He doesn’t need this complex metaphor to get what he wants/deserves.

Nico and his weirdo little metaphorical ways even blending into his glasses at the bar! He sees the world SO DIFFERENTLY. He chooses to consider the fact their glasses are positioned in the same way means something... and Marti not having a bloody clue what he’s on about goes “no they’re not” and moves it to match Nico’s. Little does he realise that Nico would SWOON at that because Marti just buys into it, effectively says they suit each other and Marti will roll with Nico’s ways.

The list is endless. But the way Marti is so blunt and straight forward and the way Nico is so in-depth and metaphorical means they compliment one another so beautifully but also it means that Nico is a complex, layered, fascinating guy with a mind that just works a little differently and he may struggle at times but... he tries in his own way to express himself. Even in s4... Marti NEEDS honesty. He just needs someone to be straight with him. His own mind doesn’t work like Nico’s and whereas I think Nico has a GREAT handle on who Marti is, Nico clearly still struggled a little to match Marti’s level of honesty and still worried he wasn’t able to be honest about his past. This is pretty naturally developed conflict. They WANT to work and they try and adapt and I love that despite their real differences, they also share a LOT in common and work so beautifully together! 💙❤️

#skam italia #nicotino #thoughts etc #metaphors etc #niccolò fares #martino rametta

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innittowinit · 4 years ago

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Abandoned amusement parks are the best places for young children (chapter 17)

Fic summary:

Techno, Tommy, Wilbur and Phil have been hanging out at the abandoned amusement park in the woods since they moved in. Techno likes knowing he's definitely alone with his brothers Tommy likes climbing on the old rides Wilbur likes having a place to play his music Phil likes spending time with his younger brothers

That is, until a group of brothers calling themselves the 'dream team' move in down the road. Will the sleepy boys give in and share the park or will they succeed in scaring the new kids off?

Chapter summary:

After the long day at the park, everyone deserves a bit of a cool down

Chapter word count: 2498

AO3

Since the day had been so much more eventful than usual, the boys had decided to head home a little earlier than usual, Tommy insisting on being carried the whole way. He had been whining about his shoes hurting his feet but Phil knew he was probably just upset from all the fighting and needed some reassurance that they were all happy again now. Anyway, it wasn’t as if Phil really minded carrying him at all, albeit he was tall for his age, he was still relatively light.

Once home, all four of them seemed to loiter in the kitchen, nobody really wanting to disperse out in case something bad happened again. Eventually Phil just sighed and started making dinner, deciding that they deserved a proper cooked meal instead of the stuff from Uber eats, he wasn’t exactly a chef though and he didn’t have the widest array of ingredients to choose from so in the end he chose to just make some chicken pasta. It was quick and easy but more importantly it would keep his brothers fed.

“Toms, you wanna help with the sauce?”

Usually Tommy loved helping make meals, going off pouting and whining if he was told he wasn’t able to help. This time was a bit different though, he hadn’t jumped up and sprinted to the oven like Phil had predicted, he hadn’t given him that iconic grin that he always seemed to have plastered on his face. No, instead he got up solemnly and nodded, walking over to where Phil was standing. It was an adorable sight but it would be flat out irresponsible to keep him up when he was so obviously exhausted from the day, Phil would be lying if he said he wasn’t too.

“Oh okay bud, you wanna have a nap before dinner?” Phil chuckled and turned the heating down on the stove before trying to gently guide the youngest into the living room to lay down.

“Nooooo” Rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, Tommy tried to squirm his way back into the kitchen, wanting to hang out with his brothers “Philll...Come onnn Phillll I’m not a baby I can stay awake”

“Didn’t say you were, naps aren’t just for babies Toms” Phil chuckled at the irony of having to reassure a seven year old he wasn’t being babyish “Come on bud, I’ll wake you up before dinner, you just seem very sleepy, I don’t want you to get sick or anything”

“I’ll go to bed early! C’monnn” He carried on whining until Phil stopped trying to guide him out of the room and instead just crouched down beside him, getting him to lay down obviously wasn’t working so he wanted to try a different approach.

Phil held out his pinky finger

“Okay how about this, I pinky promise that I won't force you to lay down for a nap if you tell me what’s going on”

“‘M worried” Head tilted to the floor, Tommy mumbled his response as he linked his pinky with Phil’s “Don’t want anyone to get hurt or sad again”

Oh. Phil’s heart swelled up so much that he was sure it was about to break, pulling Tommy into a hug and giving him a little kiss on the forehead, Phil tried his very best to reassure him that everything was going to be okay with Wil and Techno. It was hard, these were the kind of moments where he wished the adults in their lives were a bit more prevalent, it would help so much to have a parent around right now, someone who knew what the best thing to say would be.

“Oh Tommy” Phil had breathed out as he hugged his small body close, arms wrapped around him protectively. “Techno and Wil are gonna be okay, Wil’s just a bit shaken up right now, he needs a lot of comfort from Tech’ to feel happy right now but that doesn’t mean he isn’t going to be happy, just that Techno needs to be here for it.”

Tommy nodded into his chest, glancing over at his other two brothers who were still at the table “But what if he never ever feels good again?”

“He will, I can add that onto the pinky promise, he just loves Techno lots and lots and he got very scared when Techno wasn’t there, you understand that part right?” after getting a little nod from Tommy, Phil continued “Well after a scare that big it’s hard to go back to normal straight away isn’t it? Remember when you watched that scary movie and you couldn’t sleep alone for a week? It’s that type of scared” The analogy of the scary movie seemed to help it snap in, Tommy nodding with a little smile spread on his cheeks.

“So...he’s scared of Tech’ getting stuck again? So he wants to stay with him?” Phil nodded and Tommy grinned “I’m gonna make sure Techno never gets stuck anywhere ever again! Then Wil won't be upset!”

After that, Phil had given up entirely on trying to get Tommy to rest, letting him just sit with his brothers since that seemed to make him happy anyway, just going back to cooking the dinner for the boys.

At some point during the time it took to cook the meal, Wilbur and Techno had gone off upstairs, causing Tommy to pout and slouch over the table, only to return again when Wilbur had retrieved his guitar. The mood in the kitchen was soft, everyone was comfortable since thighs were okay now but there was still the underlying feeling of just being so exhausted that nobody really felt like talking much. That was fine though, Phil was sure he’d develop a headache if the house was as loud as it normally was.

“Any requests?” Wil had smiled as he cautiously let go of Techno’s hand, moving to hold his guitar properly. Since Techno hadn’t immediately gone to holding his arm, presumably thinking Wil wanted the contact to stop, Wil gently took Techno’s hand and moved it onto his arm so there was still contact even when he was playing his music. An almost inaudible apology came from Techno, clearly purposeful so Wil would know it was for him.

“Do the girl one!” Tommy perked up, sitting on his knees as he looked up at his brother with big eyes, full of adoration “Vienna! Do that one!”

Wil smiled as slid his hand on the fretboard until it was in the right position, starting to strum quietly and sing along, at some point Tommy had decided to join in too, singing the second verse with him, albeit a little off key but it was an incredibly sweet moment. The next song had come without the need to stop and ask for requests, knowing Tommy would stop him if he thought of anything he really wanted to hear.

“I think this time I’m dying. I’m not melodramatic” Wil had started, Phil was well aware how dark some of the lyrics to his songs were but he didn’t see a reason to intervene, music was a good outlet for him to get rid of any nasty feelings, plus Techno had mentioned before how sometimes their therapist looked at them to get a wider view on how Wilbur was doing since he sometimes found it hard to articulate messy feelings. Honestly, Phil was proud that he had come up with such a healthy way of sorting his thoughts out.

Halfway through Saline Solution, Phil had placed each boy’s food on the table, taking into account what portions they each preferred and whether they liked cheese on their pasta or not. Wil finished up the song and placed his guitar to lean against the wall behind him, going back to holding Techno’s hand, well aware of how awkward it was going to be to eat with his left hand. At least it was pasta though, he could just stab it with the fork, eating that with his left hand wouldn’t be too hard.

Dinner was quiet too, there was no tension or awkwardness, just a steady feeling of comfortable silence as everyone ate their food. As always, Tommy had wolfed his down first and was now gulping down his water, whining about not being a kid when Phil insisted on wiping the sauce from around his face. Next was Techno, then Phil and then finally Wilbur was finished too. The meal had been simple but it was clear from the way everyone cleared their bowls that it had been much appreciated.

“I recall promising Ice cream and a movie, you guys go in and choose the movie and I’ll clean up in here and get the Ice cream”

Wilbur seemed to look a little hesitant about leaving the room at first, shifting his eyes between the door and Phil a couple times before Techno gave his hand a reassuring squeeze and he was filled with the courage to go without the guaranteed protection of his big brother.

Phil stuck to his word, cleaning out each dish and placing them on the drying rack before getting each boy a bowl of ice cream, Mint for himself, Vanilla for Tommy, Chocolate for Wilbur and Raspberry for Techno. Everyone got some sprinkles, a flake and strawberry syrup over their dessert as well, well almost everyone since Wilbur’s bowl got Chocolate syrup instead. Going into the living room, he saw that the boys had chosen to watch Ponyo. It was a cute movie really, he remembered when Wilbur and Techno were still little, around Tommy’s age, saying that Techno was Ponyo and Wil was Sosuke all because they were going to be best friends forever too.

This movie definitely brought back some good memories.

The four of them snuggled up on the couch as the movie started playing, the dubbed one of course since Tommy was still learning to read. “This is nice,” Phil sighed as he relaxed into the comfort of his family, feeling the soft fabric of Wilbur’s jumper brush against him.

The movie had sufficiently cheered everyone up it seemed, there were lots of sleepy smiles filling the room. Phil thought the name of the ‘sleepy bois’ was still extremely perfect. It had been Techno’s idea to go up and get an early night’s sleep and everyone seemed to agree, Tommy was due one anyway since he had insisted on not needing a nap, he definitely looked like he was regretting that now as his head kept dropping every few seconds. It was sweet but it also meant Phil was going to have to carry him up.

“C’mon Toms” Phil chuckled as he lifted him up, trailing behind Wilbur and Techno as everyone went to brush their teeth, Phil needing to half wrestle Tommy to do it since he was practically falling asleep where he was. Eventually though, the boy had clean teeth, a washed face and was changed into his pyjamas and finally Phil was able to set him into bed. “Night bud, you were really good today, I’m super proud of you” With one last hug, Phil left the room to go and say goodnight to the twins too.

-----

“Hey Tech’?” Wilbur mumbled after Phil had left, carefully placing his guitar back on the wall “I know we’re getting a bit uh.. I know we’re getting a bit old for this but man you know how today was just really...bad?”

“Fucking hell Wil, Yes you can sleep with me, you don’t need to dodge the question. Plus, I thought it would just be assumed by now, I’m hardly going to force you to get freaked out on your own”

Wil grinned and nodded, thanking Techno before sitting down on the bottom bunk, leaning against Techno when he sat down

“You’re still stiff” Techno stated as he placed a hand comfortingly on Wilbur’s hair “You don’t need to worry, I’m not planning on going anywhere. Today only happened because I got overwhelmed, I’d never purposefully make you go through this”

Wilbur nodded, burying his head in Techno’s shoulder as he sighed, trying to compose himself a bit more before he spoke.

“I know. I should have listened to you too. I got so angry that I forgot I was doing it to protect you guys and ended up hurting you instead.”

Sighing, Techno flopped backwards on the bed, life was complicated and weird sometimes.

“It’s fine Wil, I already said I’m not mad, you were just frustrated. You’ll be fine though, nobody’s planning on hurting anyone anymore. On Wednesday we -or maybe really just you guys- will talk to the Dream Team about everything that’s been happening. It’ll be okay.”

The conversation was caught short by a small knock on their door, and then a little head of blonde hair peeking through as Tommy slowly opened it, still not really understanding that you needed to wait after knocking. A visit from the boy had been surprising, considering how he had been struggling to even hold himself up earlier.

“Guys?” He mumbled as he walked in, closing the door behind him, a plush pig Techno had got for him one year held in his arms. “I got worried. I couldn’t sleep”

Making sure to grab Wilbur’s hand first, Techno got up and gently led the boy onto the bed with them.

“Hang out with us for a bit then, we won't tell Phil if you end up staying up late, it’s hardly your fault if you can’t sleep” Wil hummed, making no effort to scooch across on the bed. He loved Tommy but he was not going to move away from Techno just so Tommy could be in the middle. Eventually they ended up with Tommy by the wall, Techno in the middle and Wil on the outside. It was a squish considering it was a twin sized bed but once Tommy moved to be laying on Techno’s chest than the bed, it was a lot more comfortable and snuggly for everyone.

“Toms do you wanna watch Up? That’s your favourite film right?”

The boy nodded excitedly, squirming over his older siblings to be the first one to grab the laptop off the nightstand.

Nobody had really meant to fall asleep like that but they had, Techno’s hair was an absolute state in the morning since he hadn’t even braided it before going to bed. While the wake up of being cuddled from all sides was kinda nice, he absolutely didn’t want it every night if he would need to spend an hour doing his very simple hairdo in the morning. For once though, Phil hadn’t forgotten his phone and when he went to wake up the boys, he couldn’t help but snap a picture to keep as a memory for when they were older. The view of them all cuddled up had just been way too sweet!

That being said, they were late for school.

#tommyinnit #wilbur soot #philza #technoblade #sleepy bois inc #sbi #fanfic

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evakuality · 5 years ago

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Make a clear statement, straight up: Communication in Druck s3 (part two)

This is part two of my ongoing discussion of the theme of communication in s3 of Druck. You can find part one over here: You look good tonight: Communication in Druck s3 (part one)

If episodes 1-4 were characterised by a growing buildup of trust and communication between Matteo and David, and were contrasted quite heavily with Matteo’s lack of communication with other people in his life, then episodes 5-7 take almost the opposite tack. Matteo becomes much more able to communicate with the other people around him and David pulls back from it (and Matteo) in a lot of ways. Since this got really long again, I’m splitting it in two parts: Matteo and David, and Matteo and everyone else. I’ll post the ‘everyone else’ section in the next day or two.

Matteo and David

This episode starts, of course, with a very intimate scene of the two of them getting to know each other better. Among the kissing etc there’s a lot of talking and laughing. But an important point to note here is that we’re not privy to what they say for a lot of it. We see it happening, but we’re not allowed to hear it. As with episode two, this allows us to watch the build up of a connection but it still keeps us and them a little distanced. We can’t tell what they’re talking about, or what sort of communicating they’re doing. All we know is that they’re relaxed and happy and the focus here is on both of them whereas in episode 2 we got more of Matteo than David. This is contrasted quite strongly in the later episodes, where we do see almost all of what they say, and which we’ll talk about in more detail when we get there.

Of course, once things turn more serious we do get to hear what is being said, and more importantly what is being communicated. We, along with Matteo, learn that David is concerned very strongly with his own ability to have control. He doesn’t like things that come in and take over, removing his ability to make his own choices and he says very clearly that if things went badly he’d run away, hide, wait out the storm. He’s very clear about this. To him, this is a specific and logical plan, but Matteo fails to pick up on what he’s actually saying. To him it’s a philosophical puzzle: well, what about in a natural catastrophe? How would you deal with that? You can’t choose that happening. To be fair to Matteo, David did pose it as a philosophical thing with the idea of believing in fate etc, and it seems like this is an extension of what he was doing in their first conversation: saying real stuff behind a mask or a curtain. He’s more open, more willing to explain himself here, but there’s still enough here holding him back from being completely open. And the way he’s choosing to talk about it, as a hypothetical possibility, means that Matteo and therefore by extension the audience doesn’t realise just how serious he is. This is despite the fact that his body language is communicating exactly how important this is to him. His hands in particular say a lot; the way they twist and the way he holds them and then the rest of his body, rigid and tense really gives a sense of how serious this is, but it’s done in such a low key quiet way that Matteo doesn’t really pick up on it and by extension the audience doesn’t either. Of course, this is exacerbated by the show itself, when it does Matteo’s voiceover about the situation with his parents over a very light, silly, easy montage of them wrestling and having fun. It undercuts the message and directs us away from it: very much as David has been trying to do.

This scene also tells us two clearly communicated things about the two of them which define who they are and how and why they act the way they do. Matteo says specifically that being alone is bad, and David says in his usual convoluted way that living with non-family counts as being alone. To Matteo, you need people and connection and it’s fairly clear that the isolation he’s been feeling from others is damaging him, and has been for a while. This is presumably why the connection he’s creating with David is so important to him. David, on the other hand, is making it obvious that connection with new people outside his family circle doesn’t ‘count’ - at least not in the same way. To him, being alone is safe and secure; it’s a situation where you have total control and can rely on yourself, and this connection he’s forming with Matteo is difficult and scary because it’s undercutting that. So what’s happening is that while they are being open with each other and communicating their thoughts and feelings, there are things hiding behind the words that aren’t necessarily being picked up on. Having said that, the nonverbal communication between them is telling them both (the laughter, the easiness of the physical bond, the stupid playful fighting etc) that they enjoy each other, and they’re on the same wavelength, which is at least partly why the actual words are not being communicated as effectively as they might be.

In this episode we also get the start of David’s new way of communicating: through art. Even though he still thinks he needs to isolate himself, he wants that connection despite it being something difficult and potentially scary in terms of what he has to say for it to something real. This shows progress from episode two where he just left, but it’s still a certain unwillingness to really embrace that connection with Matteo. Still, he keeps making visual connections with him. Things like the ‘breathing underwater’ post that literally no-one but Matteo would get, and of course the little vampire pictures. There’s a sense that even though he’s still holding himself aloof, he’s also wanting that connection to Matteo and is actively communicating that through these reasonably obscure things. Things that will mean things to himself and to Matteo but won’t communicate anything to the rest of the world even as some are very public. He continues to share himself with Matteo (in the form of a song he likes as well as his art) even after he’s made his decision to pull back. So, to be clear, it’s important that David still makes these gestures after he’s told Matteo he’s not interested in anything with him. There’s a reason why Matteo says he ‘can’t believe’ David isn’t interested, and it’s not just because of the way he acted when they were together.

The date they have together is also important in terms of their communication and their reactions to the connections they’ve been building. It starts well, with them once again enjoying being together, playful and laughing. Clearly spending a lot of time together and talking etc. Once again, though, we’re not privy to those conversations. All we see is the delight they have in each other and in being together. When we do tune into their conversation it’s once again with a more serious, less cheerful message. Matteo has been heartened by the time they just spent and he very clearly tells David that he broke up with his girlfriend for him. One thing Matteo is actually very good at (with David) is clearly articulating what he feels and what he wants. David, who has been probably consoling himself with ‘well he has a girlfriend, this can’t be too serious’ is suddenly confronted with reality (and again as people have pointed out, the things they do are often tinged with the ‘fake’ because there’s an air of unreality to it all that means he can pretend like this). David now gets a clearly communicated declaration of intent from Matteo, both verbal ‘there’s this guy’ and nonverbal, the kiss, and he’s now faced with a dilemma. His actions have all been communicating what he really feels: a deep connection to Matteo, but his words have been a little more obscure. He says things he thinks he should be saying: I need to be alone, free will, hide and wait it out etc, but Matteo hasn’t picked it up (again, fair enough, since the body language has been saying something different). So it becomes imperative here, in David’s mind, to preserve his safety, and he does. As Matteo did before him, he chooses to send a text with some truth in it ‘it’s gone a bit fast’ but also with some kindness ‘I need some time; don’t be angry’. But, as Matteo learned before him, that text didn’t work and his partner comes to him to get answers. And so we have a harsher text, this one a genuine lie. Matteo doesn’t believe the content, but he sure believes the door shut firmly in his face and the intent behind the text. He knows David likes him, but he also knows that he’s shut Matteo out, literally and figuratively, and he’s not sure why.

The fact that Matteo continuously uses the small pieces of David that he left for him (the song, the pictures etc) to feel closer to him is also important. This allows him to easily go back to David; he’s got tangible reminders of exactly what he means to David. Despite being out of contact during most of this next section of the show, and despite the seemingly clear ‘I’m not into you,’ Matteo takes and uses those things he knows, those things David has communicated about his true feelings, to settle himself. Even at his most vulnerable and depressed, he still has those pieces there close by him, either listening to them or keeping them near him wherever he is in his room. The connection they made has not been severed despite David’s attempts. Partly because his nonverbal communication has been telling the real truth and Matteo knows it.

That means, of course, that Matteo is willing to fall into a hug when he sees David again. He can see that there’s something wrong, see that he’s not his usual self and tbh he seems to have noticed during the end of their date as well; David is quieter, less able to talk properly, far less communicative than usual even in his body language. There may not be any verbal communication in this final scene of this section, but they don’t need it at this point. Matteo’s text to David was clear, thanks in part to his friends’ help, but also because as I said before, Matteo is very good at communicating his thoughts and feelings to David. David sends a cryptic picture of them both running away to Detroit with other in-jokes that mean nothing to others, and Matteo finally thinks ‘well, that’s just not cutting it; I need clarity on what this all means’ and so he immediately does what the boys suggest: makes a clear declaration. You either communicate with me properly or you leave me alone. David hears it, gets it and comes. Therefore they don’t need anymore words. They just need that hug to know that things are still there. It’s not perfect, they’re not ready to give themselves over entirely. There are still things that are hiding (literally as David hides his face in Matteo’s shoulder), but they know they’re on the same page now.

The title of this part is ‘make a clear statement, straight up’ and Matteo has actually been pretty good at doing this with David right through; it’s also somewhat ironic because the person saying it is literally not being ‘straight up’ in his communication with Hanna, and nor is Abdi with Sam. However, Matteo’s ‘straight up’ communication with David does come to a head in this last scene, when he gets fed up with the back and forth, seemingly wishy washy, communication. When he sends the message ‘stop sending me drawings if you don’t want to be together with me’ (a clear call back to the harsh text where david tells him this) we know Matteo isn’t fooling around, and so does David. He’s been clear to this point, but now it’s not hidden behind a joke ‘sandwich fetish’ or light heartedness; it’s serious and direct. There’s no room to mess around anymore. This is giving a good set up for (mostly) good communication between these two in the final section of the season. They get much better at making ‘a clear statement’ as the rest of the season continues.

Part three can now be found here: He doesn’t talk to me: Communication in Druck s3 (part three)

#druck #my meta stuff #davenzi

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peterjakes · 5 years ago

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My Mad Fat Diary Fanfic - The Two Months - Chapter 2

Chapter 2 - Two Old Friends

Writing this chapter made me realise how much easier it was to write a Chop x Archie piece lol. I still enjoyed writing this chapter but not so sure about it - let me know!

Also published on ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20154688/chapters/47748709#workskin

Finn and Archie had been friends for a very long time. Yeah, Finn considered him his best mate. He loved the lad and would do anything for him. The two saw each other down the chippy and Archie wasn’t looking himself. Finn thought it odd, considering everything was sorted now. He suggested going for a chat. He and Archie weren’t the best at letting people know how they feel but that was something Archie said he wanted to change. Finn wasn’t so sure. He liked being a little closed off, a little secretive, even though this meant he seemed like a right grumpy sod to outsiders. This didn’t matter though, as long as the gang and Rae understood him. They were the only real ones that did, and he was thankful for that.

Everything that had happened recently, it taught him that everyone had stuff and sometimes they didn’t want to talk about it. But sometimes that’s actually what you need the most. The chats Finn has had with Rae since everything, they’ve been open, and they’ve become closer because of it. It was weird, Finn and Rae seemed to work just as well when they weren’t together. That’s what was so good about their relationship. They were best mates. Like him and Arch. With a slight difference of course.

Finn finished football practice - one of the only things he enjoyed now that he left college and moved out. During that period, it became harder to see everyone and he missed it. Last summer, the summer of ‘96… that was the best time of his life and he wanted to get that back. He didn’t have enough time to head back to his flat to change, Archie was probably already on his way. Archie had a tendency to be stupidly early. Finn packed his kit away and took a quick shower.

Walking past the pitch, he noticed the weather changing. It wasn’t cold anymore, the sun seemed to want to come out and be enjoyed by everyone but there was something holding it back. Finn walked past a young family on the seesaw and headed for the swings. This was his most used spot in the park. It’s where he and Archie had spent so many hours talking over the years. It’s where he and Rae had that chat. It’s where he’d taken himself to be alone and just think. He plonked down on the left swing, pulling out a cigarette and lighter from his denim jacket. He felt like he hadn’t had a proper smoke in ages, something he desperately needed. He pulled a drag and watch the smoke float away. Once it disappeared, there came walking Archie.

Archie was struggling, really struggling. It was strange, he didn’t think everything would be all fine and dandy, he didn’t think it would go back to normal. What even was normal? That definitely wasn’t Archie. It’s not like he was alone, everyone had their own shit to deal with. But everyone else seemed to be able to deal with it – or at least they could just hide it. Archie had kept his secret for so long, and at first the relief he felt was immense. But recently, it was as if he was still keeping something from everyone. And it was eating away at him, which was something he didn’t think he’d be able to cope with for much longer.

Finn was someone Archie wanted to confine in, but neither of the two boys could bring themselves to do it. That awful toxic masculinity. But there was this kind of unspoken agreement between the two, which was especially evident after Archie came out, that even if they didn’t say how they felt, they would back each other. Being friends for 12 years meant something, even if they didn’t tell each other that. Finn agreeing to meeting for a chat was music to Archie’s ears, neither were much talkers but Archie needed this – otherwise he felt like he’d explode.

Archie found Finn on the swings, he brushed down the swing before sitting down on it and turned to Finn, giving him a weak smile.

“Cheers for meeting, I…I really appreciate it, Finn.”

Finn could see Archie wasn’t right, no not that he wasn’t right, but it was obvious something was going on. Finn knew what it was like, not saying anything, not letting on, when in reality he was struggling to keep it together. That only happened a few times, one being when he and Rae first split. That was fucking hard. But like everyone else, he dealt with it. Wasn’t easy, but he kept going. That’s just what everyone had to do.

“It’s ‘lright, bud.” He offered Archie a cigarette, even though he knew Archie didn’t smoke, not seriously anyway. As expected, his friend waved it away, and started to fiddle with his specs. One of the many things he knew Archie did when he was nervous. For the first time, Finn felt an awkwardness between them. After 12 years of friendship, 12 years of playing football, mucking about down the rec, going down the pub. This feeling, it wasn’t nice. He didn’t know what to do. He wanted Archie to be happy, he was his best mate and only wanted the best for him. He got that things were going to be tough for a while, it wasn’t going to be all smiles and roses. Life wasn’t like that all the time. Everyone had stuff they had to fight to deal with. But Finn didn’t like seeing any of the gang like this, especially Archie.

“You seen Chopper? He’s being a right melt at the minute, honestly don’t know how to handle ‘im. Kept going on ‘bout how we all need to see each other. Works both ways though, donit.” He offered the boy beside him a reassuring smile and lit his second cigarette of the day. He knew he had to swerve the conversation to the real reason they were meeting. “Arch, I know something’s up, I can always tell ‘ya know.”

Archie hadn’t expected Finn to linger too much on filler conversation, wasn’t a great talent of his but he didn’t blame him. He liked that about Finn. There was never any bullshit with him. Archie knew Finn only offered him a cigarette to be polite, he really only smoked to fit in. It was stupid, really. Yeah, Finn looked cool doing it, but Archie could never really pull it off. He’d stick to playing football and reading. There wasn’t going to be anymore fakery from Archie, he knew he couldn’t do it much longer.

Archie laughed at the thought of Chop.

“That’s Chop, for ‘ya. Always thinking up something.”

“Yeah, I know. I’ve been… Just been thinking about everything, ‘ya know? It’s just been a lot. I dunno, I’m being stupid really.” Archie laughed it off, it wasn’t as if anything serious was actually going on. But something did feel right, like there was a sort of disturbance in his life. It wasn’t how people were reacting to him, anyone who was originally bothered by him had kept their distance and everyone else, well, they had been brilliant. Better than he had ever thought they could be. College was much easier now; the gang was back together, and he could actually enjoy himself. Durham was in his sights. He didn’t like to brag, but it was likely he’d get in. His parents would be proud. He’d have the time of his life. But none of that seemed to matter, not in the last few days. Talking to Chop hadn’t helped, it distracted him for a few hours sure, but walking home he had time to think and he didn’t fancy that. He knew he’d had to stand up to his thoughts and feelings at some point.

Finn hated seeing anyone down, especially Archie. Only recently had everything seemed so hard. Finn also hated it when Archie just brushed off his problems, Finn wasn’t an idiot – he could tell when something was wrong, really wrong. And this seemed to be one of those times, but he didn’t want to force Archie. On the other hand, would have Archie agreed to meet up if he didn’t want to talk about it? Finn was never one for talking about things that didn’t matter. He didn’t say a lot. But when he did, he meant it.

“Arch, you can talk to meh, ya know. It’s ‘lright. Has summat happened? Whatever ‘ya thinking, s’not stupid. I promise.

Of course Finn was being ridiculously understanding. That’s what Finn did. That’s who Finn was. Archie couldn’t think of one time that Finn was unreasonable or when he’d judge you for your thoughts or actions. Finn just wasn’t the type.

“Nah, nothin’. Not really. It’s just me, isn’t it? Nothing’s ever easy is, it? It’s like Churchill said, ‘If you’re going through hell, keep going’, right. But how can you keep going when your body doesn’t want to?” Archie shook his head; he knew he wasn’t making any sense. All of his thoughts kept going around and around in his head, as if on a hamster wheel, but the minute he tried to articulate them they all seemed to disappear. This time, he wanted to tell Finn how he’d been feeling, he knew he would understand and try to help. But the words just didn’t want to form, not in the right way anyway. Archie rubbed under his nose, trying to figure out what to say. He didn’t exactly know what the problem was, or at least he hadn’t allowed himself to think about it properly to realise. He never wanted to burden Finn with his troubles, but he couldn’t do that without explaining properly what was wrong. He released himself from the right swing, feeling the cold wind on his fingertips and turned towards his Finn, who was looking slightly bemused.

“I know I’m not making sense. I’m… I’m just wasting your time, mate.”

No, Archie wasn’t making much sense in what he was saying but Finn could tell. He could always tell. There was something really bugging his friend beside him, something that Finn soon realised wasn’t just going to go away.

“Archie, just listen to meh for a minute, right. Don’t need to hear any Churchill bullocks. What is going on with ya? Ya haven’t just started being like this out of the blue, I’ve noticed, ya know. Just tell meh, please mate. It’ll be alright.”

“Churchill gave some great speeches ‘ya know.” Archie nodded at Finn, to which his friend smirked at, but this soon faltered back into the concerned look Finn always gave Archie when he thought something serious was wrong. Those puppy dog eyes, he knew how to use them, Archie would give him that. Archie wasn’t going to give him anything else. He didn’t know how to explain what was wrong. He felt like now everyone was back together, he should have felt happy. Felt fine. But that just wasn’t the case. And that’s why he felt weird. Out of place. Not quite right.

“I dunno, really. I feel like I have all of these feelings and thought inside my head and I…I just can’t get them out. Not properly. My mum, she said that I should talk to someone at college, about everything. All my revelations. Now that’s a load of bullocks. Nothing is really wrong. I guess…I dunno. Things are changing and, I’ve never been good with that, you know that.” Archie paused, allowing Finn to take it all in. His friend was nodding along to everything he was saying, but Archie highly doubted he understood anything. No one seemed to understand him. Even if Archie was being a bit dramatic.

“I just thought it would be a bit easier by now.”

“Things take time, Arch. I’m proud of you though, you handled everything with class. I’m sorry I ‘aven’t been there for ya recently, mate. I’ll make it up to ‘ya, scout’s honour” Finn gave Archie a twinkling smile, took one last drag and put out his cigarette. He got up and stood next to his old friend, patting on the back. He hadn’t been the greatest friend in the world to Archie, better than some, but definitely not the best.

“I know Chop mentioned Barney t’other day. Has this got anything to do with how ‘ya feeling? ‘Cos Chopper isn’t always the best when it comes to uncomfortable subjects. ‘ya know he didn’t mean it though. Everyone reacts differently, and he loves ‘ya to pieces. We all do.”

“Cheers, mate. That means a lot. But that doesn’t matter, not really.” Archie smiled to himself at Finn’s ‘scouts’ comment, Finn always knew how to lighten the mood when it was pretty low. He was always careful and serious, especially when it came to Archie, but he was still a joker.

Archie sat down on the patch of grass in front of the swings and motioned Finn to sit beside him, which his friend obeyed to.

“He didn’t say anything wrong; he was fine actually. Not something we say that often about him.” Chop’s heart was always in the right place, or at least it had been, but he wasn’t very good at navigating it.

“I just…I feel like I don’t how I’m gonna move forward, ya know? Got nothing to do with Chop or Barney, alright? Just struggling with everything, I guess.” This wasn’t completely untrue. He was struggling, Chop had actually made him feel better for a while and moving forward was something he was trying to do and wanted to do. But the mention of Barney, well, he had been thinking about him a little since the afternoon at the pub with Chop. He was a good kisser. He had something interesting to say. And he actually listened to Archie. He was good-looking too. They hadn’t spoken much, not since that night. Barney would appear in and out of their lives; like most of the lads, he didn’t go to college much, obviously had better things to do – unlike Archie, who was sitting here thinking about him and what he was doing, when Barney probably hadn’t even given Archie a second thought.

Archie didn’t know why he was struggling so much recently, but he did know that he couldn’t be like this forever. He needed to do something, and yeah, sometimes talking helps and he didn’t fault Finn for being a good mate and trying to help him figure it out. But maybe this wasn’t the way.

Finn wasn’t going to probe Archie to say more, their friendship wasn’t like that. He knew there was more to Archie’s problems, but if Archie wasn’t ready then Finn wasn’t going to push him. Finn would be there for him, he only knew too well that it sometimes takes time to come to terms with how you feel.

“You heard any more about Durham, then?” University was always a good subject to talk about with Archie, he could rant on for hours about how great the facilities were, how weird and wacky the lecturers were, what a great opportunity it would be for him. Finn knew this. He knew how to keep Archie’s mind off things, even if he didn’t know how to get Archie to open up properly.

Archie gave a small sigh with relief at the mention of university. This was Finn signalling that he wasn’t going to carry on asking, which Archie was grateful for.

“Mr Pens thinks I could do it, if I keep doing what I’m doing. Mum and Dad, that’s all their hoping for, to be honest. Don’t wanna bore ya with everything about the application and interview. You found a job yet?” Bore you. That’s all Archie seemed to be doing recently. Boring everyone with his stupid problems. Problems he didn’t understand himself.

“Chopper said he could get me some work in the garage, but, ya know that’s not what I wanna do.” Finn looked over at the park as he said this. What did he want to do? He wanted Archie to tell him what’s up, that’s what he really wanted but felt like today wasn’t going to be the day.

“You’ll get there mate, I know you will. Who knows, when I come back from uni you could be the richest DJ in Stamford, eh?”

“Course I will, don’t doubt it.” Finn gave Archie a small wink, which was very reminiscent of a Chop wink, one that the gang all knew too well.

#mmfd #mmfd fic #mmfd fanfic #mmfd fanfiction #my mad fat diary #the two months #*my writing

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imnotinclinedtomaturity · 6 years ago

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Love Yourself (Chapter 28)

title: Love Yourself summary: A lot of things about Dan’s life are pretty great. He gets to make the music he wants, he’s got a great fanbase, and his manager is his best friend. A few things about his life suck a bit more. He’s currently lacking inspiration, he’s rather lonely, and he’s stuck in a rut. Dan’s been going to the same coffee shop for years. It’s quiet, it’s quaint, it’s near his home. Most importantly: none of the employees give a shit that’s he a world-famous singer. Things change when he meets the new barista. chapter words: 8.4k story words: 228k (so far) chapter: 28/? rating: m warnings: language, alcohol, sex mentions, some bi/homophobia, eventual explicit smut, some depression genre: singer!dan, coffee shop au, barista!phil, slow burn [[ao3]] [[first chapter]] [[previous chapter]]

a/n: as always, thanks to @auroraphilealis for being a wonderful best friend, beta, and cheerleader. i always appreciate when she pushes me to write more, even if it is bits i'm too lazy to do so :)

Despite the firm grip that Phil had on the papers, they were still visibly shaking — something that he was certain Dan had probably noticed by this point. Dan had also probably noticed that Phil had been silent for a solid five minutes now. And given the fact that Dan wasn’t blind, he’d also probably noticed the dumbstruck look that Phil was pretty sure was on his face.

Dan had tried explaining the content of the papers to Phil — he really had. He’d been emotional though, and the story had come out in a jumbled order. But even if it had been told in a logical order, the words still wouldn’t have made any sense. It all had sounded too insane to be real life. And now that Phil had been staring at the papers — the contract, he mentally corrected himself, he needed to call it what it was — it only seemed more ludicrous.

The loopy handwriting and smeared black font glared up at him though, mocking him with Isabella’s ability to be fucking next-level conniving, her ability to think one move ahead of Dan and Phil every step of the way.

Well, almost every step of the way.

Apparently dating Dan for nearly a year wasn’t long enough for her to learn how fiercely independent and stubborn Dan was. Phil couldn’t help but find it amusing that Dan coming out first was the one move — the most Dan move that Phil could imagine — that Isabella hadn’t accounted for.

“Phil?” Dan asked tentatively, barely audible. His voice was quiet, so quiet that Phil probably wouldn’t have been able to hear him at all if there had been any noise in the room. “Say something? Please?”

It was the raw begging in Dan’s voice that snapped Phil out of his thoughts enough to tear his eyes away from the papers and finally look at Dan. There was tension clinging to every single one of Dan’s muscles that Phil could see — Dan’s eyebrows were furrowed deeply, his shoulders drawn up tight to his ears, his jaw set. Dan’s back was digging into the headboard behind him, his gaze determinedly staring straight ahead.

Dan’s entire body seemed to be on the verge of folding in on itself; it was as if the only thing stopping it from curling into a tight, protective ball was the rigidity locking him in place.

Phil gnawed on his lower lip, his gaze focused on Dan, as he took a long minute to gather his thoughts. Impatience seemed to be creeping into Dan — his fingers started to tap against his knee, and his eyes flicked over to give Phil a sidelong glance, immediately darting away again when he seemed to realize that Phil was already staring back.

“Well?” Dan pushed, his voice hard and cold, his eyes focused somewhere straight ahead again. The part of Phil that wasn’t struggling to find the right words was tempted to reach out, to lightly tug on Dan’s chin until he turned his head, desperate to know what was going on in Dan’s mind.

“I - I’m not angry about how or when or why you came out,” Phil started cautiously. He scanned Dan’s face, looking for any sign of reaction, even just the smallest flicker of emotion that might give away an inkling of what Dan was thinking. “I get it. I really do.”

Dan’s head tipped back against the headboard with a loud thunk, rolling to the side to finally look at Phil. “Then why do you still seem pissed off?” He grumbled, not bothering to mask his aggravation.

But even from the awkward side angle, Phil could see the fear and apprehension in Dan’s eyes.

“I’m not pissed off,” Phil corrected, careful to keep his tone even and calm, even though Dan wasn’t doing the same. “I’m just —” He cut himself off, running his hands over his face in agitation. He’d been the one to insist that they have a proper talk, that they tell each other what they were feeling. And that meant he really needed to find a way to articulate his current emotions.

Before sharing the contract with Phil, Dan had been honest about how he had felt when he came out last night — even if it wasn’t all coherent — and now it was Phil’s turn.

Phil sighed again, dropping the contract off the side of the bed — it felt viscerally wrong on every level to let it touch Dan’s monochrome duvet. Phil sat up straight, spinning around to face Dan. The shift in position caused Phil’s knees to press into the length of Dan’s leg, and Phil was thrumming with the urge to rest his hand on Dan’s thigh.

So Phil did. He’d spent too many months biting back his desires around Dan, and wasn’t about to continue doing so now that he didn’t have to. He moved his hand slowly, giving Dan time to knock it out of the way if he didn’t want to be touched. Dan didn’t stop him, though, and his lips quirked up into a hint of a smile when Phil’s hand settled just above his knee.

Just as slowly, and with just as much trepidation, Dan reached his own hand out, landing on Phil’s with a feather light touch. Instinctively, Phil flipped his hand over so that their palms were touching, and intertwined their fingers.

“You’re just what, Phil?” Dan prodded, far less irritation in his voice now. He gently squeezed Phil’s hand, his eyebrows raised in genuine interest.

“I’m just… frustrated.” Phil finally confessed, resigning to the fact that there wasn’t any gentler of a way to put it. Beneath his hand, Phil could feel Dan’s leg tense up, and he could see the guarded fear flash back into Dan’s eyes.

“That… doesn’t sound loads better,” Dan sighed warily. His eyes drifted away from Phil’s, landing somewhere near Phil’s left ear.

“Well, it is.” Phil said simply, unable to keep a note of amusement out of his voice.

Dan’s gaze snapped back to Phil’s, shooting him a disgruntled look. There was a smirk pulling at Dan’s mouth, though, and the annoyance in his eyes had a contrived quality to it. “Alright. Let’s hear it then. What are you frustrated with me about then?”

Another minute of silence stretched by as Phil tried to find a way to explain his thoughts that wouldn’t push Dan back onto the defensive. Dan had promised to stay rational, but Phil wasn’t convinced that Dan would manage if he felt backed into a corner.

“Come on, Phil. I can handle it,” Dan prompted, sounding defeated, when the silence had carried on for too long. “I’m sure it’s not anything that people haven’t been frustrated with me about before.” Dan offered Phil a half-hearted smile, but there was a note of derision in his voice that made Phil painfully aware of how frequently Isabella had probably been properly angry at Dan for stupid reasons.

Phil barrelled onwards, figuring that bumbling through imperfect words was better than letting Dan ruminate on past fights with Isabella.

“I’m frustrated,” he emphasized the word to reiterate that he didn’t mean angry, “That I had to find out that you came out from PJ and the internet. I—”

“I tried to tell you!” Dan interrupted, his voice high-pitched and defensive again.

“No,” Phil corrected calmly, despite the prickle of annoyance at Dan’s defensive behavior again. Phil’s fingers tightened around Dan’s before Dan could pull his hand away. “You texted me to look at your instagram before I checked my other notifications.”

“You were asleep!” Dan argued weakly.

“Yeah, and if ever there was a moment to wake your boyfriend up in the middle of the night, I think it’s hey I just came out.”

“I — Well. Yeah,” Dan agreed lamely. “I know.”

“Then why didn’t you?” Phil asked, searching Dan’s face and still keeping his voice neutral.

Dan’s eyes fell from Phil’s, his gaze focused on their intertwined hands instead. “I was scared,” he answered in a small voice.

“I told you,” Phil huffed, not wanting to rehash the same point again. They had to have gone over this at least three times already. “I wouldn’t have tried to stop you.”

Slowly, Dan looked back up to meet Phil’s gaze again. There was a glint of hesitation in his eyes, and they were a bit too wide to be normal. “No, I mean after,” Dan clarified in a low voice.

“After?” Phil repeated unintelligently, his head cocking to the side and his brows furrowing.

“Yeah. After.” Dan swallowed thickly, his spare hand ruffling his hair. “When I’d calmed down from the rush of posting and stuff… I thought of calling you then. But I was…”

Dan trailed off and fell into silence, only offering Phil a small shrug.

“Scared,” Phil supplied when it was clear that Dan wasn’t going to finish his sentence. “Scared of what, though?” he pushed, his eyebrows knitting together and his voice soft as he tried to understand. To make sense of why Dan was afraid of Phil of all people.

“That you’d —” Dan stopped abruptly, his hand slipping out of Phil’s grasp and his legs tucking into his chest in one fluid motion. Dan protectively wrapped his arms around his shins, and hooked his chin over his knee. When he spoke, his words were addressed to the empty expanse of the duvet in front of his feet. “I guess I was scared that you wouldn’t support me. I didn’t want to hear you say that it was a bad decision.” Dan sighed, turning his head so that his cheek was on his knee and he was looking at Phil again.

Phil’s heart fell, sinking deep into his stomach. “Dan, I —” Phil cut himself off, switching gears slightly. “I adore you, okay?” he continued emphatically. “I adore you so, so, so, so, so much. I’ll support you no matter what you want to do.”

Dan’s mouth tipped up into a smile, his dimple squished against his knee but visible all the same. “Even if I want to scream to the internet about how happy you make me?”

“Especially if you want to scream to the internet about how happy I make you,” Phil assured him, unable to keep the happiness out of his own voice. Phil reached out and threaded his hand through Dan’s hair, offering him a small smile. “I’d support you if you said you wanted to trek across Antarctica, okay?”

Dan laughed — and it was a real, hearty chuckle without a single trace of bitterness this time. “Well, now that’s just poor judgement, Philly.”

Phil quirked an eyebrow. “And why’s that?”

“Come on,” Dan scoffed. “We both know I’d die if I tried to cross Antarctica. The walk from here to your flat when it’s mildly cold turns me into a whiny bitch.”

This time, Phil laughed along, both of their loud giggles ripping apart the tension that had previously consumed the room. “My whiny bitch, though,” Phil teased. Letting go of Dan’s curls, Phil wrapped his arms around Dan’s shoulders and pulled him in close. Dan went willingly, letting himself be tipped into Phil’s chest, melting into Phil’s embrace. His forehead was leaning against Phil’s chest, and Phil just barely felt Dan tip his chin forward and press a light kiss to Phil’s jumper.

“I need you to communicate with me, though,” Phil continued, his voice dipping back into a serious tone. “I don’t want to find out stuff about my boyfriend from the internet just because I’m dating someone properly famous.”

“I know,” Dan agreed as he pushed back out of Phil’s arm so that he was sitting upright again. His head stayed dipped down though, not lifting to look at Phil. “I’m sorry. I’ll talk to do before I do stuff next time.” Dan sounded sincere — almost painfully so — and he was peeking up at Phil with overly earnest eyes; it struck Phil how hard Dan was trying, how determined he seemed to be to do the right thing.

“It’s okay if you can’t always talk to me before you do something — I get how interviews and liveshows and, I dunno, concerts I guess, can be.” Phil offered Dan a genuine smile, and lightly knocked their knees together in what he hoped was a reassuring way. “But tell me afterwards, before I found out from twitter or something. That way I can understand why you make choices, and not just see the choice broadcasted on the internet.”

Dan nodded quietly, still looking more at his own lap than Phil. Even though his head was ducked, Phil could see that Dan was biting his lip, could tell that Dan seemed to be holding his breath. It was clear that he still had something on his mind. Phil was just about to ask when Dan continued on his own.

“You’re famous too, ya know,” Dan mumbled meekly.

“Come here, you silly boyfriend,” Phil teased fondly, hands reaching out and pulling Dan back into his chest. Dan fell forward and crashed into Phil, high pitched giggles already replacing the concerned tone. Phil trailed his fingers up and down Dan’s back as Dan settled back into Phil’s space. “I’ll tell you things too,” Phil assured Dan softly. “Social media and gossip websites won’t be a form of communication in this relationship.”

Dan giggled again. “Good, fuck the internet,” he mumbled wryly, his words tickling Phil’s chest. Phil chuckled, and dropped another light kiss to Dan’s curls.

For a moment, Phil let silence wash over them. It was a different kind of silence this time. It wasn’t the scared silence from before, nor was it the angry silence from even earlier. No, this silence was comfortable, almost settling into relaxed as time carried on.

Phil knew that Dan was probably ready for this conversation to be over, but Phil needed a little bit of closure before he could completely let it go. With a deep breath, Phil gently asked, “So what have we learned?”

“Learned?” Dan echoed, face still smushed into Phil’s chest.

“Yeah, learned,” Phil repeated insistently. “You know, from this… fight.” Phil grimaced even as the word came out of his mouth — he didn’t like the idea of fighting with Dan, and he didn’t like labeling what had happened with such a negative term. But that’s what this morning had been. A fight.

“Oh,” Dan murmured unintelligently. Something in his tone sounded genuinely shocked.

“That’s kind of the point of having adult conversations about your feelings,” Phil pointed out playfully, trying to diffuse some of the tension. “Ideally we learn something so that we don’t have to have the same fight again.”

“Right,” Dan muttered into Phil’s chest.

“So?” Phil pushed when a few seconds had passed and Dan hadn’t continued.

“I’m thinking,” Dan responded distantly. It didn’t sound like a brush off, though — it sounded like he was genuinely contemplating Phil’s question.

“Okay.” A slow smile spread across Phil’s face. He was surprised to find that he actually liked that Dan wasn’t answering immediately, that Dan seemed to actually be putting thought into Phil’s question. “Take your time.”

And take his time Dan did. In fact, Dan took so much time that Phil would have been worried that he wasn’t thinking at all, that he’d just fallen asleep, if it weren’t for the steady drag of Dan’s thumb against Phil’s knee.

“I guess,” Dan quietly piped up after what seemed like an eternity. His words came out muffled, though, and he turned his head to the side, resting his cheek on Phil’s chest instead. “I guess I learned to… trust that you’ll, like, support me. And not be mad.”

“Mhmmm,” Phil hummed. “And?”

“And…” Dan still sounded uncertain, but he sounded like he was gaining confidence now that Phil had agreed with something he’d said. “And I should communicate, for real, not just let you find out things on instagram. You know, tell you my thoughts and shit.” Dan took a quick breath, continuing again without more prompting from Phil. “And that it’s better to talk about things, rather than just… fucking it out.”

“Good.” Phil dropped a kiss to the top of Dan’s head before he let his gaze drift up and around Dan’s room as he mulled over his own lessons. “And I learned —”

The sharp movement of Dan’s head interrupted Phil. “You learned?” Dan asked, sounding bewildered, amazed.

Phil looked down again, only to find Dan already staring up at him, his eyes wide and lips parted, looking positively shocked.“Of course,” Phil replied simply. “This is a a two way street, silly. We’re learning together.”

“Oh,” Dan mumbled, his head jerking back in surprise. He blinked rapidly, his mouth opening and closing like a fish. Phil waited patiently, his eyebrows quirked up in amusement. Dan snapped his mouth shut, his tongue darting out to lick his lips. Finally, he continued, “I just assumed it was just me who needed to learn since I’m the fucked up one.”

The amusement drained out of Phil’s face, leaving nothing but abject horror and heartbreak in its place. The phrasing of Dan’s words was a jagged knife in Phil’s stomach; the subtle difference between I fucked up and I’m fucked up had never been so glaringly loud as it was in that moment.

“Listen to me Daniel James Howell,” Phil demanded, perhaps a bit more vehemently than intended. He let go of Dan’s shoulders, his hands coming to Dan’s face instead. Hands grasping Dan’s cheeks, Phil coaxed Dan into a sitting position, holding him firmly so that Dan had no choice but to look anywhere but Phil. “You. Are. Not. Fucked. Up.” Phil argued, strong determination seeping into every word.

Looking like he’d beg to differ, Dan opened his mouth, but Phil pushed forward, continuing on before Dan could disagree.

“Today, I learned — am learning — how being in an abusive relationship —”

“It wasn’t abusive,” Dan interrupted fiercely, a twinge of the defensiveness creeping back. “It was just—” His voice fumbled, his gaze fell. “Toxic,” he finished weakly.

“Fine, toxic,” Phil relented, using Dan’s word instead — not that it was really all that much better, but it seemed to matter to Dan. “Today I’m learning about how being in a toxic relationship has affected you.”

Dan leaned backwards, pointedly pulling his face out of Phil’s hands. “That sounds like a nice way of saying fucked up, Phil.” The derisive, self-deprecating tone was back in Dan’s voice, and a humorless grin was replacing the happy smile from moments ago.

“It’s not,” Phil implored. “You aren’t fucked up. You were in an unhealthy relationship for a long time, and you learned to develop unhealthy reactions to stuff because it helped you in that relationship. All that means is that you need to learn healthier reactions.”

Dan rolled his eyes, and let out an exasperated sigh. “So this morning I learned to not make a fight go away by blowing you, and you learned that you get to teach your boyfriend to respond healthily to things because he’s an emotional wreck who doesn’t know how to deal with basic relationship shit,” Dan summarized bluntly as he stared stubbornly somewhere over Phil’s left shoulder, not quite meeting his gaze. There was a bitter edge to Dan’s voice that made Phil’s heart ache.

“Hey,” Phil wheedled, his hand reaching out to adjust Dan’s head so they were properly facing each other again. “Remember, you also learned to trust that I’ll support you, yeah? That applies here too, okay?”

Dan’s eyes finally flickered from somewhere behind Phil to meet Phil’s gaze. Dan looked skeptical, like he was ready to push back again.

“You’re acting like this a huge burden, and it’s not,” Phil continued before Dan had the chance to say anything. “So long as we have clear conversations like this, and so long you’re open with me like you were earlier, it’s going to be okay.”

“I — fine,” Dan conceded. “I can do that. Or, well, try.” Dan shrugged, a small embarrassed look on his face. “Being open is… hard sometimes. And I don’t exactly realize when I’m having an unhealthy reaction to something.”

“That’s okay,” Phil assured Dan, his thumb lightly rubbing over the wrinkle between Dan’s eyebrows. As if Phil’s touch were magic, Dan’s face relaxed, the tension melting away. “Being vulnerable is hard for everyone, I can’t begin to imagine how hard it is when you’re used to a toxic relationship. I’ll help you realize when there’s unhealthy stuff going on. This isn’t all on you, alright?”

Phil dropped his hand to his lap, blindly searching for Dan’s without breaking eye contact. Their fingers brushed, and they both rushed to lace them together.

“I’ll fuck up again,” Dan pointed out, but all of the resistance was gone and there was a dopey smile slowly spreading across his face.

“This morning won’t be the last time I mess up either, but I’m —”

“You?” Dan cut Phil off incredulously. “You didn’t fuck up this morning!”

This time, it was Phil who shrugged. “I’ve never been in a relationship with someone who…” Phil paused, picking his next words deliberately, careful to not say anything that would quickly send Dan spiraling back into the I’m fucked up mindset. “...responds differently to stuff than me.”

Dan cocked his head, the dopey smile twisting into a look of confusion. Clearly, Phil’s attempts to be sensitive had erred too far on the side of diplomatic.

“When I got here, Louise was really… iffy about leaving,�� Phil tried to explain, still picking his words carefully. Dan wasn’t going to wallow in self-hate anymore, especially not because of anything Phil said. “And I knew why. And I promised not to be like Isabella, and not to hurt you. And then Louise left and it was like poof, I forgot about those promises.”

“Phil,” Dan consoled him softly. “You weren’t anything like Isabella.”

“Well, good.” Phil forced out a hollow chuckle. “But I still let my temper get the best of me, and I didn’t once stop to think about how your past, about how being with Isabella, might have affected the way you interpreted my actions. And I should have.”

“That’s not your fault. You don’t have to walk on fucking eggshells around me.”

“No, but I didn’t have to be sarcastic and accusatory and snappy. I didn’t have to think only about myself.” Phil shook his head forcefully. “I could have let you sleep a little longer. I could have let you have a fucking cup of coffee.”

“I — yeah. That might have helped,” Dan reluctantly agreed after a beat of silence.

“Exactly,” Phil said with a smile. “See, we both learned things this morning.”

Dan leaned forward, and Phil expected a kiss or maybe just a hug, but instead he was met with Dan’s head crashing into his chest. Dan’s hands were adjusting Phil’s, manhandling him until Phil’s arms were looped around Dan’s waist.

Phil didn’t waste any time before tightening his grip and pulling Dan in closer. Pliantly, Dan scooched into Phil’s lap until his arse was between Phil’s thighs, and his long legs were tucked along Phil’s side, his arms smushed between their torsos. Dan wasn’t hugging Phil, not by a thousand kilometers. This was just Dan being held by Phil. And that was fine.

In a different moment, Phil would probably have laughed about how small his absolute giant of a boyfriend had managed to become, but now didn’t seem like the right time. Phil could imagine that Dan was feeling a lot of things right now — vulnerable from this morning, probably still shocked from coming out — and pointing out that Dan had turned into a contortionist so that he could curl up into Phil’s lap like a small child seemed like the wrong thing to do.

So Phil let Dan burrow into his chest, and Phil held Dan as tightly as he dared.

“Phil?” Dan murmured tentatively without pulling back.

Phil’s brows automatically rose in curiosity. “Yeah?” he asked.

“For the record, even though we fought and stuff, this is still better than even the best days with Isabella.”

“Hmm?” Phil hummed, not quite making sense of Dan’s comment.

“I feel like…” Dan trailed off, sounding like he was searching for words. “Even when we’re fighting, you push me to be better, to want to be better. I like that.”

“Oh,” Phil mumbled dumbly, a faint smile growing on his face. A warm wave washed over Phil, and he couldn’t resist tightening his hold on Dan and pressing another kiss to the top of his head.

One of Dan’s hands wiggled free from the space between their bodies, and found its way to Phil’s side. Dan’s fingers trailed down Phil’s ribcage all the way to the hem of his jumper, ducking under and sliding back up. The warm tickle of Dan’s fingers on the side of Phil’s stomach made him giggle in surprise, even though he objectively knew it was coming. Dan giggled back, his head tipping back so that he was looking up at Phil, his breath fanning across Phil’s neck.

“I like me better when I’m with you,” Dan whispered, his fingers coming to a halt and his hand latching onto Phil’s side.

“I like me better when I’m with you, too,” Phil agreed softly. He leaned forward, tilting his head down to capture Dan’s lips with his. Dan kissed back eagerly, his back arching up, his hand slipping around to Phil’s lower back.

“Good,” Dan muttered with a note of finality, his lips only barely pulling back from Phil’s. “Now, I know healthy relationships frown upon blowjobs during a fight, but what’s the stance on blowjobs after a fight?”

A loud, high pitched giggle escaped Phil’s mouth, his tongue lolling out and inadvertently licking across Dan’s lips. “In favor,” Phil managed through his giggles. “Very in favor.”

“Excellent, because those joggers are stupidly tight and they really make me wanna suck your cock.”

“You’re incorrigible,” Phil chided through a beaming smile.

“I don’t see you complaining,” Dan pointed out smugly, already shuffling down the bed on his knees. His hands were gripping Phil’s hips firmly and maneuvering him into a more accessible position. Phil let himself be manhandled, obediently twisting around around until he was laying on his back.

Dan wasn’t wasting any time — no sooner had Phil stopped moving, than Dan was immediately reaching for Phil’s joggers. “Off,” he ordered breathily, tugging on the hem. “And the shirt, too.”

“Demanding, aren’t we?” Phil teased, lifting his hips up to help.

Dan shot Phil a menacing glare — a look that was spoiled by the fact that his pupils were blown wide with lust. “I could so easily not blow you right now,” Dan threatened, even as he yanked Phil’s joggers over his bum, his pants pulled down in the same motion.

“This was your idea,” Phil said snarkily. All the same, he pushed up slightly, grabbed the neck of his shirt, and tugged it over his head. Carelessly, Phil chucked his shirt onto the floor, and reached for the hem of Dan’s sweater. “I want this off, too,” Phil urged with a tug.

“I’m blowing you,” Dan explained dramatically.

“And I want a view,” Phil whined, just as theatrically. He pulled upwards, this time aided by Dan, who dragged his sweater over his head and tossed it behind him.

“Happy now?” Dan grumbled, a smile pulling at his lips, as he shimmied further down the bed.

“Take of the trousers and then I’ll be thrilled.” Phil offered Dan a cheeky smile, hoping it was enough to convince him.

Dan, however, froze between Phil’s legs and sent him a thoroughly unamused look.

“Hey! Don’t have such a great arse if you don’t want me to want to look at it all the time,” Phil accused innocently.

A deep blush spread from Dan’s collarbones, up his neck, all the way to his cheeks. Dan climbed off the bed, his hands flying toward the button on his jeans. Phil shuffled onto his elbows so he had a better look at Dan.

“You cheeky bastard, I don’t know why I keep you around,” Dan mumbled under his breath. The blush had extended from all the way to Dan’s ears, though, and Phil knew he’d hit a nerve — a good nerve.

Salaciously, Phil let his eyes wander down Dan’s bare chest, let his gaze linger on Dan’s hands, let himself watch the way Dan slowly swayed his hips as he pushed the tight black trousers down. Phil could feel his cock stirring in interest just from looking at Dan — this boy really was going to be the death of him.

Before Phil could reach for his own cock, Dan was crawling back on the bed — completely arse naked this time — and coming to a halt just centimeters from Phil’s crotch.

“You look good like this,” Dan hummed, his breath ghosting over Phil’s growing cock.

“I could say the same about you.” Phil’s response came out weakly, though; he was already breathless just from Dan being so close to him. From Phil’s limited experience with Dan’s mouth, he knew it was fucking talented — talented enough that Dan was sure to drive Phil insane with it one day.

“You and your damn view,” Dan muttered with a shake of his head and a fond eyeroll. He crouched forward, the new position pushing his bare arse into the air and, yeah, Phil would happily endure teasing if this was the view that he got for it.

~*~*~*~*~*

The wet heat of Dan’s mouth on Phil’s cock was intoxicating, and somehow even more than what he’d been expecting. Talented didn’t begin to cover how amazing Dan was at this, but more than that, it just felt good being so close to Dan again after the drama of the morning.

Phil’s elbows gave out beneath him, and his head fell back against the pillows, despite his desire to keeping staring at the way his cock looked between Dan’s lips, the way Dan’s arse looked high in the air. The sudden pleasure was too much, and Phil’s eyes slipped shut against his will, his fingers clenching into the duvet. A louder than normal moan tumbled from his mouth, and he allowed himself to give in to the overwhelming feeling of Dan’s hot mouth sucking him.

The sound — and electrifying vibrations — of Dan chuckling around him made Phil reach down and swat playfully at this head, but Dan was quick to make up for his teasing by bobbing his head down even further. A quiet, involuntary gasp escaped Phil when he felt his cock slide into the back of Dan’s throat, Dan nose pressing into Phil’s groin. The pleasure that was coursing through him was impossible to ignore, and Phil felt himself go boneless, his hand slipping back to the bed. Dan’s hand caught Phil’s, though, and guided it back to his head. Through a haze of pleasure, Phil remembered how much Dan got off on having his hair pulled, and tangled his fingers in Dan’s knotted curls.

Phil wasn’t sure how he’d gone so long without this — not sex necessarily, but sex with Dan. Every time Dan touched him, Phil felt like he was on fire, the heat and desire burning him up from the inside. But it was so much more than that. Just being with Dan always made Phil feel incredibly lucky. He liked Dan so damn much, and he’d happily spend the rest of eternity making sure Dan knew it.

Dan’s mouth worked Phil like he’d been doing this for years, not just the one time he’d actually done so. He was a quick learner, somehow already figuring out what Phil liked, what he didn’t, and what would most likely send him over the edge.

It only took a few seconds of Dan massaging his balls, his fingers ghosting to the sensitive spot just behind them, before Phil was gasping, body tensing and hand tugging on Dan’s hair as orgasm rushed through him.

Panting, Phil tugged more forcefully on Dan’s hair, guiding him into a kiss and licking away the taste of himself on Dan’s tongue. Dan chuckled against his lips, but kissed him back with just as much vigor.

Dan’s hard cock brushed against Phil’s thigh, eliciting a deep, loud moan from Dan. Phil pulled away to whisper, “Let me return the favor.”

“Gladly,” Dan murmured back.

************* ~*~*~*~

When they finally calmed down from what was frankly two amazing blowjobs, Dan and Phil both reached for their phones. It was hardly the post-orgasm bliss that Phil wanted to revel in, but he knew that they both had to face — or at least check in on — their managers, their family, the internet, at some point. So here they were, laying on their backs next to each other, completely naked, and scrolling through their notifications.

Phil’s manager had called three times since they’d moved to the bedroom, each time leaving increasingly long voicemails demanding that Phil call her back as soon as possible or reschedule their morning meeting for later in the day. Phil ignored her requests, though; he was determined to wait to return her calls until him and Dan had a firm plan in place, until they discussed what should and shouldn’t remain private.

Dan, unfortunately, wasn’t as lucky as Phil, as they found out when Dan played his voicemails on speaker. The downside of Dan’s manager being his best friend was that Louise had a lot more leverage to make Dan have proper conversations about his public image. Unlike Marianne, Louise’s voicemails weren’t full of pleading demands for Dan to schedule a meeting — no, hers were full of threats to just show up if Dan didn’t call her back.

“She will, too,” Dan grumbled when the last voicemail finished playing. “I should text her or something, see if I can stop this from happening.”

“You can meet with her if you need to. I don’t mind,” Phil offered.

“Oh I definitely need to, but I don’t have to right now,” Dan responded with a laugh, his eyes lewdly raking up and down Phil’s exposed body. “Louise can wait until I don’t have a naked boyfriend in my bed,” Dan added unnecessarily, like Phil hadn’t figured out exactly what Dan was thinking from the way Dan was checking him out.

Phil chuckled at Dan’s antics, bringing his phone back up to his face to cover the blush that he was certain was spreading across his cheeks. “I’m not going to stop you, there.”

While Dan typed a message to Louise, Phil scrolled through his own texts. There was another message from his brother, one from PJ, and three new messages from his mum. Just like Marianne, Phil wasn’t ready to talk to any of them yet — it wasn’t like he had any idea what he’d say right now anyway.

He left all of them unread.

Aimlessly, Phil switched to scrolling through his email. A firm poke on his shoulder drew him away from the long message he was skimming from his boss at the BBC.

“Here,” Dan said, holding his phone out for Phil to take, a cheeky grin plastered on his face. “I reckon this should keep her away for a while.” Despite the impish expression, Dan’s dimple was still on fully display; it made the entire look a thousand times cuter, and Phil wished he could have a framed picture of that exact expression.

Phil clicked the lock button on his phone, and carelessly threw it somewhere beside him on the bed. Turning closer to Dan, Phil took the phone from Dan’s outstretched hand and read over the message that he’d just sent to Louise.

Dan [1:34PM]: everythings good here dw. we’re both naked tho and i have no intentions of letting phil get dressed so i don’t recommend you waltz in here unannounced

“Daaaaan,” Phil whined. His blush from earlier rushed back, his cheeks turning even redder this time.

“What?” Dan teased, sounding far too innocent given the circumstances. “It’s true,” he pointed out cheekily. The tips of Dan’s fingers trailed up Phil’s inner thigh to his hip, just barely missing his cock. Even though Phil came less than an hour ago, the light stimulation was enough to make his cock twitch in interest.

“Ugh, but she doesn’t need to know that,” Phil griped indignantly.

“Too late!” Dan quipped cheerfully without a single trace of remorse. Without waiting for Phil to respond, Dan plucked his phone out of Phil’s hands, chucked it towards the foot of the bed, and flung himself on top of Phil.

“Oof,” Phil grunted when the full weight of Dan landed soundly on him. “Hello there, I guess,” Phil greeted playfully. He lightly patted the very top of Dan’s head, an amused smile creeping onto his face when he noticed how comfortable Dan was making himself.

“Shut up and hug me,” Dan grumbled. His face was already buried in the crook of Phil’s neck, his body stretched out along Phil’s length, his legs tangled between Phil’s own.

“If I must,” Phil sighed with mock exasperation. He wrapped his arms around Dan’s waist all the same, shuffling him over a bit so that Dan’s hipbone wasn’t jutting into Phil’s.

There were more conversations to be had — Phil knew they were unavoidable. For now, though, he was enjoying relishing the intimacy of lounging in bed well into the afternoon with a naked Dan on top of him.

To Phil’s surprise, it was Dan who broke the tranquil atmosphere first.

“So,” Dan started out of nowhere. “In the spirit of healthy adult conversations —” the words came out overly posh and just mocking enough to not completely ruin the mood, “— we should probably talk about what me being out means for us. Publicly I mean.”

“Yeah, we should,” Phil agreed softly. One hand drifted from its perch on Dan’s waist to lightly stroke up and down Dan’s back. “I want to hear your thoughts first.”

“You do?” Dan asked, with far too much surprise.

Phil rolled his eyes good naturedly, shaking Dan gently. “Unhealthy reaction alert,” he teased, keeping his tone light and humorous. “It shouldn’t be shocking when your partner wants to hear your thoughts.”

Dan chucked, blowing waves of hot air against Phil’s throat. “I — yeah. That makes sense. Objectively.”

“Buuut…?” Phil prodded with a smile, his hand returning to its slow caress of Dan’s spine.

Dan shrugged, his shoulder lightly knocking into Phil’s chin. “It’s just new, is all.”

“Well get used to it, Howell,” Phil ordered good-naturedly. One of these days, Dan was going to learn what healthy relationships felt like, but until then, Phil would just have to keep surprising him.

“Yes sir,” Dan conceded, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

“Kinky,” Phil laughed with an exaggeratedly deep and raunch tone, rocking his hips up into Dan’s. It wasn’t really meant to be a sexy move, but their hips were more closely aligned than Phil had originally thought and their cocks rubbed together suggestively. A loud, high gasp filled Phil’s ear at the same time as he let out his own quiet moan.

Fuck, it was tempting to rock them together again, to squeeze Dan’s arse and grind his hips into Phil’s.

“Careful,” Dan warned saucily, a breathless twinge to his reprimand. “There won’t be any adult conversation if you do that again.”

“Oops,” Phil said in lieu of an apology. He cleared his throat and did his best to school his tone back into something serious. For good measure, Phil slid his hands a little further up Dan’s back, making sure that he was well away from Dan’s arse. “Back to the topic. What do you want? Publicly?”

“Right,” Dan said curtly. He shuffled slightly so that their hips weren’t quite as perfectly lined up anymore. “Unless we try really hard to keep it quiet, I think it’s inevitable that people find out — like for sure find out — about us.”

“I agree.” Phil nodded, accidentally jostling Dan. “Do you want to try to hide it? We can tone it down on the internet.”

Dan’s arm snaked its way from Phil’s side up to his hair, and his fingers tangled in Phil’s messy quiff. “I’d rather not, honestly. Part of the reason for not going along with Isabella’s stupid plan was that I didn’t want to have to police my behavior with you.”

“Good,” Phil murmured. He tipped his head forward and pressed a gentle kiss to the side of Dan’s head. “So we both agree that we don’t want to actively hide. What do you want then?”

Dan sighed, the air tickling at Phil’s neck. “I just came out. And I know I already sort of vaguely hinted about you — I had to. Obviously.” Dan huffed out an aggravated breath. “But I guess I’d rather it just be about that for a little bit. Like, if I’m going to do this, if I’m really going to be out, I want to really do it.”

Phil’s brows furrowed together and his body froze as he tried to make sense of Dan’s words. “I’m not sure I’m following,” Phil confessed.

“There’s not enough bi-representation out there,” Dan explained sadly. “And from the small amount of scrolling through comments and tweets that I did, it was clear that actually seeing someone in the media come out as bi really meant something to a lot of people.” Dan’s fingers mindlessly ran through Phil’s hair, his nails pausing to tap a light rhythm against Phil’s head every couple of minutes. Despite the fact that Dan was naked and laying across Phil, his head completely hidden in Phil’s neck, Dan still managed to be incredibly thoughtful and considerate — still managed to be articulate about the topics he was passionate about.

“So I’d rather it just be about that for a while,” Dan continued. “The second people know for sure that we are together, we’re both going to get bombarded with questions about that and that’s all anyone is going to talk about anymore.”

“That makes sense,” Phil agreed, his brows relaxing and hands finding their gentle pace along Dan’s spine again. “So we don’t hide, but we don’t confirm either?” Phil clarified, intent on ensuring that they were on the same page.

“Basically.” Dan pushed up a little, his elbows pressing into the mattress on either side of Phil’s head. “Are you okay with that? I don’t want to push you to —”

Phil derailed Dan’s nervous rant the only quick way he could think to, given that Dan had him pinned to the bed — his hands abruptly slid down from Dan’s back, all the way down to his arse, and he squeezed authoritatively. Dan stopped talking immediately.

“Hush,” Phil needlessly added. “I told you ages ago, Dan. I’m following your lead here. Whatever you want is fine, so long as I have a chance to share my concerns if I have any. I’d just like to be, you know, warned before anything big happens. If for no other reason that I’d rather not have to explain to my family why the entire internet knows something before they do.”

“Ugh,” Dan groaned, collapsing back onto Phil. “Have I made a completely terrible first impression on your mum by ruining your chance to tell her?”

“Nah, you’re too loveable for her not like.”

Phil felt Dan tense, and for a brief second he panicked that he’d gone too far — that he’d come on too strong too fast.

But then he felt the unmistakable feeling of Dan smiling into his neck, his lips stretched wide and his teeth grazing Phil’s skin.

“I’m lovable?” Dan asked. His voice was high-pitched and hopeful, like he didn’t quite believe it. Phil planned to spend as long as Dan would let him proving just how lovable he was.

“Of course,” Phil assured him, a smile tugging at his lips. “You’re like a big, warm teddy bear.”

Dan giggled into Phil’s neck, his hands looping back up to tangle in Phil’s hair. “Funny. That’s what my family calls me,” he mumbled.

“What? Teddy bear?” Phil’s brows knitted together as he tried to imagine calling his adult son teddy bear.

“No, just bear,” Dan corrected quietly.

“Oh,” Phil mumbled, his eyebrows raising in amusement. His heart melted at how precious it was, how perfectly bear seemed to fit Dan. “That’s unbelievably adorable.”

“Shut up,” Dan threatened lightly. “Don’t —”

Whatever Dan was going to warn Phil not to do, though, was cut off by the sudden chime of Dan’s phone.

“Fuck, can I ignore that?” Dan whined childishly. His hands stubbornly twisted tighter in Phil’s hair and he didn’t move a centimeter.

“I dunno.” Phil ran his hand up Dan’s back, all the way to his shoulder, and pulled up lightly. “You’re not going to know unless you look though.”

“You’re the worst,” Dan groaned, his face purposefully digging further into the nape of Phil’s neck. “You aren’t supposed to actually make me move. What a bad boyfriend.”

“You can lay down again once you’ve looked at the message,” Phil bargained as he nudged at Dan’s shoulders again. Dan was Phil’s makeshift blanket, and Phil wasn’t keen on losing his warmth, but reality was looming in the back of his mind.

“Fine, you ass.” Dan pushed off Phil, his legs moving to straddle Phil’s hips. He leaned backwards, his weight shifting to his hands behind him. The position gave Phil a perfect view of Dan’s long, thin body, and he couldn’t stop his brain from immediately imagining Dan in this position not reaching for his phone.

Images of Dan straddling his hips, his back arched in that sexy way, Phil’s cock buried balls-deep in Dan’s hole, flooded Phil’s mind — he was powerless to stop it. It was like he was fifteen again; his body instantly responded to the mental image, his cock growing hard against his will, pressing insistently again the crevice of Dan’s arse.

Dan must have not noticed yet, because he was still fumbling around for his phone. Phil was too busy looking at everything else about Dan to really register him finding his phone and opening the message.

“Fuck,” Dan cursed suddenly, snapping Phil’s attention away from the gorgeous sprawling cursive of Dan’s tattoo on his rib — something Phil hadn’t really taken the time to appreciate yet.

“What?” Phil snapped, a little more sharply than intended. He couldn’t quite hide that he was disgruntled that Dan was forcing him to pull his mind from his dirty fantasies.

“We need to get up and put clothes on, like, right now,” Dan said urgently

“What? ! Why?” Phil demanded, this time more frantic than annoyed. His heart pounded in worry, his mind spiraling as he thought of things that could be wrong.

Dan pouted at Phil over the top of his phone. “Louise texted that she’s in the lobby and is coming up in five minutes, regardless of if we’re still naked.” He frowned dramatically

Phil’s heart slowed back down when he processed that the biggest threat was just Louise barging into the flat. “Well, fuck. You need different friends,” Phil mumbled without any real bite to the sentiment.

“Fucking tell me about it,” Dan grumbled back, dropping his phone to his side. He leaned forward, his hands coming to rest on Phil’s chest and his hips shifting. The movement gave Phil’s cock much more friction, only spurring on Phil’s problem.

“Wait,” Dan said through a giggle. “Are you hard right now?”

“I don’t want to hear it,” Phil huffed. “You looked really good like that, okay?”

Dan leaned back on his hands again and puffed his chest out slightly, intentionally rubbing his hips into Phil’s cock. There was an impish look on Dan’s face; his lips were quirked up into a mischievous smile and his eyes were filled with mirth.

“What? Like this?” Dan asked. There was false innocence dripping from his voice, and his eyelashes were fluttering, and fuck this was really getting to Phil.

“Yes, exactly like that, you brat,” Phil chastised, even as his hands slid up Dan’s bare thighs and came to rest at the crook of his hips.

Dan broke out into a devilish smile, and leaned forward again. He splayed his hands across Phil’s chest, lowering himself down until he was just centimeters from Phil’s face.

“Noted,” he said smugly before closing the small distance and kissing Phil. Dan parted his lips, his tongue, immediately darting out to lick along Phil’s bottom lip. A quiet moan slipped from Phil’s mouth before he could stop it, and it only grew louder when Dan grazed his teeth along Phil’s lip.

All too soon, though, Dan was pulling back. Not just from the kiss, but all the way back to sitting, and then off of Phil’s lap in one fluid motion.

“Daaannn,” Phil whined. His dick was throbbing, and watching Dan bed over to pick up his boxers from the floor was hardly helping matters. It was almost like Dan was trying to wiggle his arse in Phil’s direction.

“Now who’s incorrigible?” Dan smirked as he straightened up and stepped into his pants.

“Fuck you,” Phil muttered, trying and failing to inject at least some venom into his voice.

“Maybe later,” Dan promised cheekily. “Now get up and pull on your joggers before you scar Louise,” he demanded, still sounding playful. Apparently, the looming arrival of his best friend wasn’t enough to stop Dan from making fun of Phil.

No matter how tempting it was to stay naked in bed with Dan, Phil knew that they both had to get up and face the world at some point. And the loud ding of the elevator door made it clear that the time had come.

a/n: yayyyyy thanks for your patience guys! i made several Bold Adult Decisions this month which reallyyyyy slowed me down. i hope it was worth the wait! love you all xx

#phanfic #phanfiction #phan #phan au #slow burn #singer!dan #barista!phil #coffee shop au #iminclinedtowriting #love yourself #ly #mine #ly 28

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serpentsangel · 6 years ago

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Talk Me Down: Part Four

A/N: AHHHH! I finally updated this! Sorry I have been delayed in doing so, school was hell and I’m only just starting to get back into the habit of writing. I’m hoping that over the summer, with the time I have, that I can complete this story and Bounty and maybe even start a new one! I really hope you guys enjoy this chapter <3 Thank you once more for all the support. I appreciate it a lot.

Plot: A mysterious name pops up in (Y/N)’s mind causing tension between her and her mother. As Reggie gets to know (Y/N), Cheryl approaches him with a proposition that tests him on what matters more to him. His morals or his lifelong dream he’s worked hard on?

Words: 2,302

Part One // Part Two // Part Three

Part Four

(Y/N) groans the moment she walks into the atrium of her mansion, standing in the middle, looking like a hawk on a pedestal, is her mother with her arms crossed and deadly eyes glaring her up and down. “Go ahead, scoff about my outfit. Tear me apart. Do the one thing you know.” (Y/N) stops and places her hands on her hips, waiting for her judgemental mother to spew out some excuse to shout at her.

Margareta scoffs and rolls her eyes, adjusting her silk gloves. “You missed the banquet. You made me look like a fool. I was the only socialite there that didn’t have their offspring present and it was the talk of the night. Next time, I’m making sure Torres has you home as soon as you step out of school. None of this, late night rendezvous to whichever unlucky soul has to endure your sight.”

“I’ll have your tiny little pea brain know that I was studying. At the library because at least that place has a proper space unlike this cauldron you brew every day.” (Y/N) snaps, holding onto her fallen back pack, shaking her head at her mother before stepping forward to get to the stairs and to her room and, subsequently, away from her mother.

“I’ll be leaving for the South tomorrow morning, I’ll be gone for three days and I suspect that by the time I return you will not have burned down this space. And if I find a single strand of a party, or any other living thing besides those that are already here, I will make your life a hell.” Margareta turns around and death glares (Y/N), who by now has dropped her bag and taken a few steps down to over-tower her mothers small frame.

“What business do you have down there, hm? The South Side that you have been keeping away from me all these years?” (Y/N) scoffs as she crosses her arms, glaring down at her mother, then it hit. A name. Out of the depths of her mind, something she didn’t recognize, or someone she doesn’t recognize. “Are you going to try and find dad? FP Jones…” Margareta’s face drops pale, her eyes scanning (Y/N) for answers. “…who is he? Why did his name just pop up in my mind?”

“How the hell do you know that name?” Margareta scowls.

“I. Don’t. Know. Just like I don’t know half of my life, who my dad is or where he is because you keep on telling me lies after lies after lies and I am fucking sick of it! One day and one way or another you will tell me, or I will have to find out by my fucking self because it is torture knowing that I am missing a part of my life and I can’t know what it is. You can’t keep me locked up forever, mother. The dam will break and when it does…” (Y/N) picks up her bag and smirks towards her mother. “….the devil within will be loose. Strap yourself in, your reign will soon be over. Ta-Ta. Have a good night down South!” Proudly, (Y/N) struts back up to her room, shutting the door behind her. Leaving Margareta to clench her manicured hands into fists and silently scream to herself.

Reggie walks slowly back to the changing room, the mornings practice aching him a lot more than he thought it would. Spending most of the summer going around and having interviews with schools meant he had limited time in the gym, his body felt rigid. As he turns the corner he sees the usual sight of Chuck and a few of the other lads cracking up, most likely about whatever moving being they banged over the summer but as he approaches his locker, Reggie’s ears perked up when he heard (Y/N) be mentioned.

“How much do you want to bet, that (Y/N) is a complete freak in bed?” Chuck ‘jokes’, the boys seemed to enjoy the trash talk. “C’mon, a hot chick like that being cooped up in a fortress up in the hills, she must have some sort of deranged kinks. (Y/N) must be freaky.” Alright, that’s enough.

Reggie slams his locker door shut and causes the small group of boys to jump a little at the sudden loud clang of the metal. “Do you honestly have noting better to do, Chuck?”

Chuck looks up at Reggie, still sporting that cocky smirk of his. “You know you’re thinking it too, Mantle. I’ve seen you sitting with her in Biology. Your eyes say it all. You’re as curious as I am.”

“Just cut it. She’s new. Besides, I’m pretty sure you’re not her type.” Reggie laughs as he walks out of the changing rooms, leaving Chuck to fume to himself. He takes a large sip from his water bottle as he heads to his locker, taking a few books out before walking down the hallway to Biology trying to rid his mind of what he’s just eaves dropped in the locker room. It sickens him that somehow, people don’t see whats wrong with it and even though they aren’t saying it in the presence of their subject, word travels fast.

When he turns the corner to go in to class, there’s no one else, yet, except for (Y/N) who is huddled over the assignment looking through all of her answers over and over again. Reggie smiles as he takes his seat next to her. “Morning.”

(Y/N) looks up from the paper, giving him a small smile as she puts the paper down and pushes her glasses up. “Morning to you, stink bomb. Did you run to school?” (Y/N) chuckles as she takes her glasses off and folds them, placing them carefully onto the table. “Either that, or a skunk decided you weren’t their friend today.”

“Ha. Ha. Very funny.” Reggie says sarcastically. “I had morning practice with the Bulldogs and I barely worked out over the summer so my body feels like an aching old man. And I did take a shower, just thought you should know that, so you don’t think I’m some gross jock.”

“I wouldn’t find you gross. Sweating is our body excreting liquids when we overheat so it can cool us down, yes it can stink but body odour is more of a self-care thing or a diet related issue, has nothing to do with sweat.” (Y/N) states. “How’d you find the assignment?” Reggie shrugs and slides her sheet he filled out, she took it and scans the paper fairly quickly. “You did decent, you couldn't probably get a 67, better than Topic 5 at least. The issue is, you don’t really explain things properly, you know where to end but you don’t know the start. Science is all about being able to explain the hows, because the end result is great but what people care more about is how you got there in the first place.”

“I have issues with explaining my own Subway order, how do you expect me to explain this?” Reggie raises the paper up and sighs, taking his notebook and study guide out. “Honestly, I read and I get the stuff but it’s just…”

“Articulating it into words that’s hard?” (Y/N) completes the sentence and Reggie nods. “It takes practice as much as studying does. Biology is a very memorization based subject and the more you train your mind to do it, the better you’ll get.” She rips off a piece of paper from her notebook, scribbles something on it and tucks it into the pocket of Reggies hoodie. “If you ever need a tutor, just give me a heads up, you seem like the only person in this entire school that looks at me like I’m human.”

“People can be stupid and currently, this entire school is. You didn’t choose to be up there, did you?” (Y/N) shakes her head. “Then I see no reason to wreck you over that and the rumours, they’re just as ridiculous. I’m pretty sure it’s been hell being sheltered from it all and I’m sure a lot of things are unusual and strange to you, the least people here could do is make you feel the littlest bit welcome.”

“Some have, Veronica was my tour guide but I was a bitch and slid her away. I try to be nice and whatnot but with my mother and all, I’ve only ever known how to be a trash talking socialite that takes pride in the glamour they’re encompassed with. I’ve known nothing other than bitchy people and self-centred jerks that only use others for granted, this is the most amount of ‘normal’ I’ve been. And I guess letting people be scared of me is my own way of making sure people don’t get close to me because I honestly don’t know what I’d do. I push away in fear of what I may encounter if I get too close.” (Y/N) pauses as she takes a moment to capture her breath again, the words spilling open faster than she could contain, Reggie sits there dumbfounded, eyes wide and mouth pursed together. “I’m sorry, you aren’t my therapist. I shouldn’t have. I’m sorry.”

Reggie waves her off. “No. Don’t apologize. You clearly haven’t had anyone who would bother to listen to what you have to say. Veronica is a decent person and hey, this can be a stepping stone. Don’t be scared, you’re here to learn just like anybody else.” Reggie reaches out and squeezes (Y/N)’s hand, causing her to flinch for a bit before giving Reggie a small, slightly painful smile. “If you’re down for it, I’d like to go down to Pops and maybe talk about a study plan?”

“It’s a deal.”

As Reggie waves goodbye to coach, he suddenly gets pulled aside to under the bleachers. Cheryl places a finger up to her lips telling him to be quiet. “What the hell Cheryl?” She lets go of her grip on his hoodie and double checks her nails and grins to see that they’re still in their pristine state. “What do you want?”

“Why do you always assume I want something, Reggie? Can’t we just talk?” Cheryl pouts.

“Because if you wanted to ‘just talk’ why would you pull me under here?” Reggie questions, straightening out his crumpled jacket. “Make it quick, I’m meeting..”

“The freak of nature that is (Y/N)?”

“She isn’t a freak, I’ll have you know she’s a decent human. People like you need to stop profiling her just because she’s been involuntarily hidden up in that hill since she moved here. You know Cheryl, it wouldn’t hurt to try and be nice to someone at least once in your life.”

Cheryl scoffs as she locks her arms together. “Please, I’m nice. Besides, you want to step down your tone, mister. You do not want to be crossing me after what happened over summer. Wouldn’t want that to be broadcasted to the whole school, do you? Hm? Oh, imagine what it could do to your potential scholarships.” As she taunts, Reggie grips tightly to the strap of his bag.

“What do you want?” He whispers angrily through his teeth.

“Assist me in the complete social annihilation of (Y/N). Execute my plan, ruin (Y/N) forever and then you can forget that I ever found out about your summer troubles.” Reggie’s eyes widen in complete disbelief. How low can she get?

“I am not going to do that! Why on earth would you want to even think of that? What has she ever done to you? What has she ever done to you thats so horrible that it warrants you the brain power to want to take her down?” Reggie inquires, not only down to the fact that he’s clueless as to why Cheryl would be interested in tearing (Y/N) apart but because he can’t stand the idea to see her get remotely hurt, she’s just someone that wants to live a normal life.

“It’s not about what she hasn’t done but more about what she can do. She threatens everything I have worked so hard for and I am not allowing some new trash to come in and think she can own the place just because everyone thinks she is a demented freak! That is not the kind of image I imagined for this school.” Cheryl flings her hair back. “All I need you to do is reel her in, then break her.”

“And why me?”

“Because you’re the only person she seems to talk to and the only guy in this school that has somewhat of a decent brain. And the only guy that isn’t looking at her like she’s a trophy to be won.” Cheryl sighs. “It’s the classic revenge plan, a John Tucker situation if you will. Date her, make her fall in love with you, then completely break her heart at formals and make her never want to come back to this school.” Reggie was on the verge of counteracting Cheryl’s plan, only for her to stop him from doing so. “I’ve got more dirt on you than you do on me, do this or your future will be as lifeless as hers.”

An uncomfortable pause falls between the two of them, Cheryl waiting for his answer and Reggie debating between his morals and his future, a future his father has worked on his entire life and something he’s dreamed about since he’s a kid. A cutthroat industry like pro football weighted heavily and Reggie curses in his mind as he looks at Cheryl in front of him.

“Fine. I’ll do it.”

Taglist: @serpent-squad @daddyxpea @notanotherfangirl @superhalsteads @abbigail-583 @static-heart-break @thesouthside-princess @idontknowhatiwant168393 @djdre92 @maryosprinkle @jimmys-afterlife-love @sarasmismyonlydefence @ccshbh @sweetpeaprompts @fantasiasvt @flannels-and-fire @xeniarocks

Want to be added to the taglist? Just message me and I’ll add you into the next chapter!

#reggie mantle #reggie mantle fanfic #reggie mantle x reader #reggie x reader #talk me down #riverdale #riverdale fanfic #fanfic #riverdale fanfiction #fanfic series #riverdale imagine #riverdale fanfic series #reggie mantle imagine #reggie fanfic

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hyphen-yaeger · 3 years ago

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Prompt #14: Commend

All the Hyphens

The representatives of the Eorzean Alliance got together before the warrior of light and her companions to sort some things that did not need her and their input, quite the busy meeting.

Work they did, but why was it that the conversation naturally just flows to them?

To be fair, they got so many people can say about them.

Engi deserved way more praise and gratitude than they had already given him; with him working at times alongside the Ironworks, fixing things here and there, and getting them out of sticky situations with his inventions... Do you need a specific thing to get this thing done although is quite random? He got you and will do it in less time than anyone could have predicted.

Sunshine got a strange start but quickly became the one that encourages everyone. The kids wanting to ask the new kid to play with them but are doubting? She's there to make you see that it is worth the question; not sure if you can tell representatives about your town's needs because of the fear that it might be forgotten? A talk with her and you'll see that to change the situation with help, first you have to let it be known!

Talking about strange starts, Shadow showing up out of thin air in that same room was quite funny now. Weirdly enough, he had become the guardian voice that tells you when to take a break... or force you to take one more than once he has stopped people from making huge mistakes due to the lack of rest or sleep. No one has been able to properly thank him because as soon as he has made sure you are resting or taking a break, he'll disappear as fast as the way he came to this shard.

Is not like Bold needs to have the last word in every argument, is just that her comments, either the first she makes or the last, are made after listening to all parts and happen to have all the logical things to do. Not sure where to eat and have been thinking all this time? She says the food that complements and mixes all options; People have been fighting for how to distribute X supply? She's no economic mayor but she just said a logical way to do this. Truly a lifesaver.

Cavalier being the type that acts now, thinks later has managed to defend people against different flying objects like toys, cakes, pots, and even axes... all on instinct and not noticing himself.

Not only did Soul kept the gil from the group safe, but has managed to get some nice deals for Tataru to use for the Scions and other allies while she is in the middle of her own stuff... It's a wonder how she keeps tabs of everything in her head with so many numbers.

Tender, Tender, Dear Tender... farmers and people in charge of the stables love him; always knowing and willing to learn about the new processes to take care of animals and companions, not afraid to lend a hand on even the stickiest of situations if it means helping those creatures...

No one like Beacon to make you feel safe. The best hugs, the best company, and an aura that makes you want to follow her until your batteries have been recharged. Not only helpful for the group but also the people who talk to her on a regular basis. Like an oasis in a desert.

Gentle had this innate way of starting things. Social situations, eating plans, nameday parties... if you look away for a moment he already got your nameday party going, all for you

Mindful isn't just someone who is laughing and laughing, she also finds joy in making others laugh. More than once she has disarmed a tense situation with some jokes and lift the spirits of a kid that had just fallen; she's always there to make you forget about the bad patch you just passed

While traveling, Swift has been helping sick people in need with his vast knowledge. Is quite common that when people go on adventures they don't know how to take care of themselves with what is available when the things they packed had run out; thankfully he is always willing to help and share, even if the people ""don't deserve it" in words of his companions.

Star has a talent of inspiring with her stories and vivid descriptions of places she's been to. Inspiring others to go out and explore; to go try and get a glimpse of this emotion of excitement and happiness even if doing things as normal. "It truly is in the details" she always says.

Book could recite poems and short novels by memory, tell a story to kids, or cite the most appropriated quotes to those who need it based on the millions of situations he has read and by extension -lived- in a way. His grand vocabulary helping others not to get into trouble by articulating thoughts in a better way.

Witty sure could let out harsh words frequently, but those are needed at times as well. She is a master in setting boundaries and making others realize the wrong or the unlogical outcome of their actions, thanks to that expect to hear a lot of apologies around her, and those really can make or break more than one situation.

More than once, people from all social backgrounds and problems had gone to Mirror not only for advice, but most of the time simply to have a willing ear to hear them without judgment or none at all.

About the Foundation, or base of this whole whirlpool, as expected and it has been known, tries to balance out everything she gets thrown her way. She's willing to stand in harm's way to mitigate big damage, but also take your hand in case you are afraid of the dark and just need to go outside for 3 seconds. Like she is juggling all she can, she will always makes you feel appreciated by making time for you, and at times, that's just what you need.

They knew what they have been doing, and how they did way more than just the minimum, and although they always are left wanting to thank and show more of their gratitude, things always get in the way and the feeling of wanting them to know how much they do just keeps on growing.

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deedilyfields · 7 years ago

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Spring 2018 Smutfest: Prompt 1

Summary: This submission is the second part of the two-shot fic I started on the previous smutfest, under the prompt Guilty Pleasure: Lectures on Phonetics. In this second part, we finally have accomplished college student Bulma being taught a lesson on phonetics by her strict professor.

Rating: 18+

Warning: Student/Teacher relationship

I hope you like it @tpthvegebulsmutfest !

2. Consonants

Heart galloping in her chest and struggling through shallow breaths, two distinct urges warred inside Bulma’s blurred mind. Her domineering ego demanded her denial of his proposition, claiming that she didn’t need any of his lectures. Her pride reaffirmed her brilliance: a genius, she should be the one giving him a private lesson, not the other way around.

However, as the condescending professor carefully brushed her locks aside, coarse fingers ghosting over the exposed slip of her neck, a rival instinct emerged victorious — her submissive need to turn herself over to his ministrations, sucking up every drop of what the professor’s rugged body had to teach her, eager to please and be pleased. Her logical reasoning had no other choice but to retreat, a final coherent thought flashing in its wake.

I’m doomed.

If she was being honest to herself, she became a goner the moment his domineering gaze fell on her feisty one in class, halting any argument that she might have come up with, a brow arched, daring her to fight back while simultaneously commanding her to submit. For the first time in the heiress’s life, words —hell, her breath failed her. Faced with his callous methods and impressive intellect, the brilliant student felt humiliated… and excited. She knew he saw that, thrived on that.

Now, as the end of her second semester under his tutelage approached, the usually level-headed, independent young woman found herself again perched on that infamous desk, pale legs clinging desperately to his waist, hands braced on his clothed pectorals as dexterous fingers swiftly unbuttoned her blouse. Lolling her head back, the accomplished student bared her throat to her superior as he pushed the garment open and down her arms, avid mouth latching onto the newly exposed skin without missing a beat.

If Bulma was the stuff of dreams, Vegeta was the fabric of sin.

Every touch of his, as small as it may be, set her ivory skin alight, feeding the flames brewing in her core, the ones only him seemed able to ignite. The heiress had never needed anything —or anyone— like her body, her whole being craved his. As he lavished her neck, a frantic hand darted into his wild mane, aching for more proximity, more of him. His dark chuckle fanned over her humid skin, prompting gooseflesh that ran all the way to her toes.

“Eager to start, are we?” he husked in her ear, taking her lobe in his wet lips. Struggling through the heady haze she stuttered a moan of affirmation. “Very well.”

Drawing back to fix his dark gaze on her flushed face, he looped an index under the latch between her breasts and flipped, popping open the lacy navy-blue brassiere deftly. Even being thoroughly used to his expertise by now, the young student couldn’t help but gasp at the move, prompting the cocky curl of his lips. Forget her sanity, this man would be the death of her.

“On to consonants, then.”

Even barely able to make sense of his words, the observant student didn’t fail to notice his ominous gaze falling to her breasts. Another jolt of arousal coursed through her at the attention, hardening her nipples, to the dominant professor’s delight. Yes, his desire for her fueled the temptress inside of her and Bulma found herself bracing both hands on the desktop behind her, jutting out her chest — another submissive response he always managed to evoke from her.

It was all the prompt he needed.

A flash of pearly whites and his calloused hands were on her, cupping, testing the weight. The young woman had to bite her lip hard not to moan at the ministrations, her dazed gaze captured by his teasing one. He pinched one nub; she mewled. That cocky smirk once again took hold of his face as he worked her nipples, deriving pleasure from each gasp and moan he drew from her.

“Let’s start with the fricatives…” he murmured, mouth again against her collar, his lips leaving a tingling trail in their wake, making it harder for the clever student to pay attention to his words.

She had no intention to give in so easily, especially when he seemed so taken by the lecture, but it was difficult for her to focus. Shutting her eyes with a frown, she tried to pull from her memory the information he was referring to. The college girl had just taken a test on this, it was still fresh in her memory, no matter how hazy her mind currently was— it was still the mind of a genius.

Bulma had just managed to recall the appropriate phonemes when he descended on her tits, fastening hungry lips on a tumid nub, caressing it lightly with his tongue while his hand flicked the other. Her mind drew blank.

“FFFFFF…UCK!” she whined, head thrown back from the shock of pleasure. He chuckled hoarsely against her chest, her now wet nipple popping off his mouth. “Vvvvery good.”

Before she could process his praise, however, came the swift reward: the doting professor opened his mouth wide and seized one breast, sucking most of the soft flesh in vigorously. A breathy moan left Bulma’s red lips as the contact prompted a steady pulse between her thighs. As good as his teasing was, she was needing some relieve, his attention from before had already left her wet and servicing him had only made it worse.

Somewhat desperate and driven by instinct, she fisted his hair and pulled, trying to get him to look at her. Unfortunately, all she got was a muffled groan and a bite, to which she replied with a gasp. Fuck, she needed him elsewhere.

That was when it hit her.

“Vulva!” exclaimed she, digging her heels into his back to pull him against her, pressing her needy flesh against his hardening member, hoping to get her message properly across. Maybe even a bonus for keeping to the subject. This time her breast slipped out of his mouth with his groan, hips thrusting back against her.

“Right…” he huffed out, eyes narrowed and a quirk to his lips. The professor straightened himself up and ran his hands down her sides to her thighs, pulling her closer. “Time to move on, then.”

A hum spilled out of her mouth when once again he massaged her calves and she leaned back on the desk instinctively, sweaty palms bracing her weight on the hardwood. Bulma couldn’t help rolling her hips when his strong hands pulled her legs wider apart, her skirt inching up to her waist. That’s what she was talking about!

Her satisfaction and expectation didn’t go unnoticed by the cunning professor — it rarely did. His face was tantalizingly close to hers, his dark eyes focused solely on her as his hands worked their way to her center.

“You’re such a teacher’s pet, so eager for my next lesson…” he hushed out, eyes falling to her lips as his minty breath ghosted over her face.

She then felt the roughened pads of his fingers brushing against her as he pulled her underwear to the side, anticipation drawing her eyes closed with a breathy sigh.

“Is that what you want, Miss Briefs?” he hushed against her lips, knuckles rubbing against her folds as he played with the lacy blue fabric, sending flutters through her core.

“Yes!”

“Yes, what?”

He pushed the offending piece of clothing fully to the side and cupped her womanhood, middle-finger circling her tight entrance. She tried hard to find her voice.

“Yes, Mr. Ouji…”

“There you go…” he mouthed along her jaw, the vibration of his baritone working wonders on her tingling fresh. Then he started rubbing three fingers against her, spreading her natural lubricant thoroughly, and the arms that were keeping her torso upright trembled precariously.

Weak moans slipped past her lips, before they were once again covered by the professor’s voracious mouth as he steadily increased pressure. Her collar bone was next and finally, her breasts. As he lavished them with his tongue, now rubbing furiously at her center, waves of pleasure washing over her midriff increased in length and she moaned continuously at the feel.

Hazily, Bulma wondered if the callouses on his fingers were from too much writing or something else, before deciding to thank the gods for their existence anyway, as the rough surface only heightened the feel.

“Let’s. Go over. Laterals.” He murmured against her chest, punctuating the statement with licks to her nipples and a light graze of teeth that made her yelp.

“Hmmm…”

“Tell me…” he started, halting his movements, and lifting his gaze to her flushed face, eyes narrowed inquisitively. The attentive student whined lightly at the loss, but focused doe-eyes on him nonetheless. She wouldn’t dare ignore one of his lessons. “Their manner of articulation.”

With the arch of one of his black brows, challenging gaze trained on her, he slipped a finger inside. Her eyes rolled into her head as she threw it back with a gasp. Fuck, that wasn’t fair.

“How…” the brilliant student whined, facing him accusingly before being interrupted by the pump of his dexterous finger. “How am I… supposed to answer li-like t-that?”

“Tsk, tsk, tsk…” another finger joined the first and Bulma’s arms gave out. She was now lowered onto her elbows on the desk. “I’m disappointed in you, Miss Briefs.”

Raising her gaze from his ministrations to his attempt at hiding a smirk, she gritted her teeth in an attempt to steer her thoughts in the right direction. The jerk was trying his damnedest to scramble her brains, but the heiress wouldn’t allow him the satisfaction, not without a proper fight. Her perfectly lined eyebrows hunched closer as she thought.

“I know that!” she griped, her pitch breathy-high. “It’s-”

A third finger was added to the mix and the connection between her mouth and brain shortcut, nothing but keen wails spilling from her lips.

“Clearly you don’t.”

Bulma swallowed her protest once she felt his lips on her navel. Was he…?

“Maybe…” sharp teeth punctured her left hipbone; she squealed. “You need a demonstration.”

Vegeta straightened, hooking fingers under the waistband of her panties and pulling them down her legs in one quick motion, quickly discarding them to then spread her thighs on the desk once again and kneel before them.

Mouth agape, chest heaving, and one blue tendril glued to her forehead with sweat, the student watched over the expanse of her torso as the strict professor pulled her lips apart slowly with dexterous fingers and brought his mouth to her, dark gaze never leaving hers. The moment the clammy tip of his tongue made contact with her core she arched heavily, her whole body sparking to life as if struck by lightning. It was like an out of body experience, she couldn’t even recognize the drawn-out moan that crossed her lips as hers.

She felt him sweeping his palate up her slit to then curl the tip at her clit, rubbing it deliciously before restarting the process. It started out painstakingly slow, but he eventually picked up enough momentum to be chin-deep in her, the furious strokes of his tongue inside her having her writhing atop his desk, the hardwood slick with her sweat.

At some point her hand had once again found purchase in his unruly mane, gripping the coarse locks tight between her fingers, pulling him closer, the other one hanging off the desk above her head, which darted frantically from side-to-side. No coherent thought crossed her mind, nothing but hedonistic urges and broken commands of Faster, More!

Not that the professor needed any of those to know what to do in his unrelenting pursuit of her climax. She felt as if his tongue would be forever imprinted on her walls, his aristocratic nose brushing roughly against her pleasure nub every time he dug deeper before curling back out. She wouldn’t be lasting much longer now. The pressure was building.

She choked on her moans.

“Ve-vegeta!”

Pulling out to curl his tongue against her clit, he thrusted three fingers inside, and that was it.

Light exploded behind her eyelids in a myriad of colors too bright for her to follow, her whole body spasming as her walls clenched desperately around his still-pumping fingers. She felt herself soaring weightless as she rode the crest of her pleasure, thighs smothering her teacher, back arched and face contorted in the purest expression of elation. A soothing warmth took hold of her chest.

While his gorgeous student was still riding the orgasmic high, pleasantly disoriented, the cunning professor lost no time in getting back to his feet, bringing those slender thighs of hers with him and securing her feet over his shoulders before burying himself inside her in one harsh thrust to the sound of a sharp gasp, her juices easing his way in.

“Fuck.” He gasped.

No matter how good it felt to fuck her mouth, no feeling would ever compare to being buried to the hilt in her, tight walls squeezing his cock almost painfully. Through hooded eyes he watched as her mouth contorted into that ‘o’ that he loved, a discharge of extra adrenaline rushing straight to his dick upon the sight, and he started pulling out of her, reveling in every inch of mind-blowing friction as he did. Gripping her ankles to pull her lower back up and off the desk, repositioning at her entrance, he rammed into her again, the new angle enabling him to hit that sweet spot inside of her that had her keening, palms splayed on the desktop, eyes wild with pleasure, walls clenching blissfully around him.

This-this must be what heaven felt like.

Having found the perfect angle, Vegeta picked up his pace, soon slamming into her without mercy, his balls slapping against her butt as he sank into her again and again, claiming every part, every inch of her to him. The end of the semester meant nothing, she’d always be his. Feral eyes sweeping over pleasure-taken features, the professor brought his mouth to her right ankle, the left one gripped tightly in his hand as he leaned over her, bending her further while pulling her left foot to the side, near her head. He wanted to completely cover her lithe body with his, brand her with his heat.

“ah-ah-ah-ah-ve-vegeta!”

He reached for one tit with his free hand, squeezing it tight.

“What did you call me?!” he growled to her panting face.

“Pro-professor!” she stuttered in a moan.

“Professor what?!” he demanded, snarl in place as he beat himself fiercely inside of her, the desk rocking with his thrusts. “Say it!”

“Professor Ouji!” she wailed in a broken voice. “I’m-I’m cu-mminnnnng!”

He could feel her walls clinging to him, sucking him back in desperately every time he pulled out, he could sense his own dam so close to overflowing, all that pent-up frustration from his day, all the aggression and sexual tension accumulated between them in class today; it was close. They were close. Forcing her legs further against her torso, hitting even deeper than before, Vegeta brought his lips to her ear:

“Come for me, miss Briefs.”

It was as if she had only been waiting for his command, his permission to release wave after wave of euphoric pleasure, her whole body convulsing in spasms too grand to fathom, tipping him over the edge as well, howling her name with abandon, muscles tightening over her in a desperate urge to become one, to assimilate the other into themselves, her arms wound around his shoulders, begging him, not to ever let go.

They rode the high together, bodies moving in tandem as if they had been made for this sole purpose, eventually dialing down to languorous moves and then sagging against each other, completely spent.

“So…” Bulma was the first to break their comfortable silence, dragging one finger up his spine and nuzzling his shoulder. “Do I pass?”

Letting go off her legs and settling comfortable on top of her on the desk, foreheads and noses touching, gaze fixed on her bruised-red lips, the demanding professor smirked, one hand reaching up to brush back wild aqua locks.

“You aced it.”

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If you’d like to check out the first part you can either click on the ao3 link at the top or here, to go to my scribbles page and check out my attempt at fanart as well!

#tpthvegebulsmutfest #day1thebutterfly #2018 Spring Smutfest #the prince and the heiress community #scribbles

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aion-rsa · 4 years ago

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Why I Am Legend Has One of the Most Frustrating Endings in Science Fiction

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Last March, confronted with a pandemic none of us had expected or understood, many people found themselves rewatching Stephen Soderberg’s Contagion. Whether out of morbid fascination or as a guideline to what we might see in the future it quickly topped charts on streaming services. A year on and another pandemic movie has made it into Netflix’s top 10 – 2007’s I Am Legend, a horror sci-fi starring Will Smith as Dr. Robert Neville, who thinks he’s the last man on Earth after a virus has wiped out most of the population. Directed by Francis Lawrence, who would go on to make the Hunger Games sequels, a new adaptation of Richard Matheson’s 1954 novel had been in the works at Warner Bros. since the mid ‘90s, with various talent attached, including Ridley Scott and Michael Bay as directors and Tom Cruise and Arnold Schwarzenegger to star.

At its release the movie was praised for Smith’s performance but criticised for an overuse of CGI and a weak third act, but rewatching against the backdrop of 2021 what really sticks is how much of a wasted opportunity I Am Legend was. This is an hour of an excellent film, then 30-odd minutes of rubbish.

What you might remember of I Am Legend is this: cool empty New York stuff, Batman V Superman logo on a building, Will Smith talks to mannequins, the dog dies, CGI zombies, the end. But it’s so much better than that (until it’s not).

The first hour of I Am Legend is incredibly sparse. Virtually silent except for flashbacks, Dr. Neville is alone and talks only to his dog, Sam, and to mannequins he’s placed around shops and the street to try to emulate real life. New York is deserted. Each day when the sun is at its highest point, he waits at a meeting place he’s broadcast on the radio for other survivors to find him. Each day he is disappointed. His routines are down pat. He and the dog eat well from food scavenged during the day. At night they lock down and stay silent, hidden from the initially unseen threat outside. Neville is immune to infection but not to being killed by the creatures that keep him locked away at night, and on whom he experiments during the day. Neville is trying to find a cure using his antibodies, testing first on zombie rats and then on the infected human subjects he keeps chained up in his underground lab. He keeps failing. Is he really trying to save humanity? Or does he just want someone to talk to? Perhaps the two things are the same.

Forget zombies, I Am Legend is an exploration of the pure horror of being alone – it’s resonant as all hell in the current climate where we know that hordes of other people exist but that they pose an actual threat of death. That loneliness is so acute that talking to a dog or a shop dummy – or indeed a plant, your computer, the TV – seems completely legit. Neville’s struggles with socialization once Alice Braga’s Anna is in the picture feel entirely authentic and familiar – has he gone slightly mad from the loneliness and isolation, the film posits? In 2021, have we?

Keeping the CGI baddies in the shadows is a wise move, and even though they really haven’t aged well, in the first hour there’s still scope for a few decent scares. The best comes when Neville is caught in a trap set for him by one of the creatures – a trap which mirrors one he himself had set earlier to capture the latest of the infected he’s experimenting on. Hung up by a foot with the sun rapidly fading, when Neville wakes from his concussion he is in a serious rush to save himself with his faithful friend Sam barking in panic below him.

When it’s him and the dog, Smith is brilliant. Sam (played by two dogs – Abbey and Kona) is also excellent. And at the end of this sequence when the dog dies, bitten by zombie hounds and euthanized by Neville, it is genuinely devastating. Forget Marley and Me, this isn’t canine grief porn – instead the moment a grief stricken Neville goes to the record shop and talks to a mannequin, begging her to “please say hello to me,” is deeply upsetting. Smith does some very heavy lifting and it really holds up. Neville has hit rock bottom. Without Sam there’s nothing left to live for. Neville heads out into the night on a kamikaze mission to take as many creatures with him as he dies. The end. Except it’s not.

Instead, the film is completely ruined by the deus ex machina arrival of another survivor, Anna (Alice Braga) and her son Ethan (Charlie Tahan) who rescue Neville. Anna says she believes God sent her to find Neville and take him to a survivor colony she thinks exists in Vermont.

Anna’s arrival is no doubt supposed to provide hope and redemption in the final act after the incredibly moving end of the previous act but ultimately it does the opposite. Her random appearance undermines the three years Neville has endured. Neville has lived with the frankly torturous concept that he was the last man alive, but instead he’s faced with the possibility of a survivor community that somehow she has managed to track down while he has not, and the thought that for three years (or however long he’s been sending his own broadcast) survivors, in all likelihood, did hear his missive but never responded. His strength and resilience, his battle to stay sane, these were nothing, there were other people who could have found him, or he them, all along. Bad luck Neville, you spent three years trying to find a cure when you could have just had a chat with God (or worked harder on your telecoms). Bleak for him but in this version he becomes a martyr of sorts.

Anna and her son arrive and trigger a mega zombie showdown in the house. In a stroke of luck, Anna’s arrival has coincided with the latest strain of antidote actually working, so when Neville, Anna, and her son barricade themselves in the lab, Neville is able to extract a vial of the cure to give to Anna and then sacrifices himself so she can escape the creatures. Neville is killed but the cure is safe and arrives at the encampment with Anna, his life’s work wasn’t futile, and Anna gives a speech essentially saying how much of a legend Robert Neville was.

Yep, the title of the film has been completely reinterpreted from the original text here to mean “I am a total legend!” rather than the much much darker meaning found in Richard Matheson’s wonderful novel.

In the novel Robert Neville’s foes are vampires and other than the traditional vampire weaknesses – garlic, sunlight, stake through the heart, etc – they are intelligent, articulate, and human-like. In Matheson’s book Neville meets and becomes involved with a woman whom he discovers is a vampire sent to spy on him; the race of infected have managed to treat and control their symptoms and are forming a new society, while he’s been hunting them down. And the woman’s husband is one of the vampires Neville has killed.

The book ends with a dying Neville realizing that, to the vampires, he is the bogeyman, the stuff of nightmares, as vampires themselves were once to humans. He will become a legend, not because he’s a great man, but because in his extinction he will be a cautionary tale and a mythical figure to a newly formed society.

The director’s cut alternate ending of I Am Legend gives more of a nod to Matheson’s book – it’s better but it’s still not great. In this version the alpha male zombie who set the trap for Neville is bashing his head repeatedly on the locked door of Neville’s lab where Neville, Anna, her son, and his latest test subject, a female, are barricaded. Through the glass, the alpha male makes the sign of a butterfly (a call back to a gesture Neville’s daughter makes earlier in the film) to indicate the butterfly tattoo the female has. Neville understands finally that the “darkseekers” have their own relationships and community. The woman is the alpha’s partner. To the darkseekers, Neville is the monster, who has been capturing and torturing members of their group. Behind him is a photo wall of each creature he has experimented on and eventually killed. Willing to sacrifice himself so that Anna and her son can escape, he is now at the mercy of the alpha. In fact, when he apologizes and returns the captured female, the darkseekers show Neville mercy and don’t kill him. In this version Neville, Anna, and her son travel to the survivors’ community together and Neville lives.

This ending works better and gives more resonance to certain earlier scenes – the alpha male exposing himself to sunlight after the female is captured, the trap alpha uses on Neville matching the one Neville used on the female, the scenes of Neville experimenting on the female causing her excruciating pain – the final beats still don’t land. The outdated CGI renders the creatures so far away from humanity that the emotional resonance is lost. “Sorry about torturing your missus,” doesn’t have quite the impact it should and the existence of the community in Vermont, far from feeling hopeful, gives a sense that Neville has just wasted the last three years.

Neither ending properly gets across the significance of Matheson’s title, and the inclusion of reference to Bob Marley’s album Legend only muddies things further.

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Lawrence’s I Am Legend is so nearly a brilliant, thrilling, troubling exploration of loneliness and isolation and it could have had a gut punch ending which remained faithful to the book had they gone for something other than the CGI zombies. Instead it’s a movie which builds to an electric crisis point and then throws it all in the bin with unnecessary new characters, a religious message, and a faux happy ending that no one needed.

I Am Legend is available to stream on Netflix (US) and Sky and Now TV (UK).

The post Why I Am Legend Has One of the Most Frustrating Endings in Science Fiction appeared first on Den of Geek.

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spilledparchment · 7 years ago

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I received a comment on my fic, Stormy Winds and Autumn Leaves, which really frustrated me and made me quite upset. I was finally able to craft an articulate response but I feel the need to write some more about Ginny Weasley.

For reference this is the comment I received:

What we see here is the background of a lot of Ginny Weasley Hate but I won’t be deconstructing and writing a rebuttal, I’m going to write about the character I love and why I love her.

Full disclosure, I am not a fan of how Ginny was treated in Book 7. In fact I will rant about it at length. In my fic I wrote my feelings as follows:

She hadn't asked to be Helen, hadn't asked Harry to charge into battle and keep her safe. She was Æthelflæd and Boudica. She was the dancing wind that blew in a storm. She was an eagle flying fierce and free. She'd led a rebellion and broken into the Headmaster's office. She'd been collected by Slughorn on her own merits. She was not born to sit meekly by - to be bridled and cossetted. ... he'd agreed with her mother and tried to lock her in a room in a castle for her own protection. She was no princess, no trophy, or prize. Not for her were the notions of Victorian femininity designed. She was not made for him and she would not force herself to be.

I do think it’s possible to ship Hinny but that ship requires dealing with Harry’s actions in Book 7 and the way he fundamentally stripped her of her autonomy.

Tangent over, let’s analyse the youngest Weasley sibling. aka why I love her.

When we first meet Ginny she’s asking her mother why she can’t go to Hogwarts like her siblings.

"Now, what's the platform number?" said the boys' mother.

"Nine and three-quarters!" piped a small girl, also red-headed, who was holding her hand, "Mom, can't I go... "

"You're not old enough, Ginny, now be quiet. All right, Percy, you go first."

There’s something to pay attention to here, Ginny is introduced as a slightly pushy girl who needs to be quiet. Which isn’t that dissimilar to Hermione but, crucially, the narrative repeatedly silences Ginny in a way it does not do to Hermione. Interestingly, despite the fact that Ginny cries when her sibling’s leave, she’s cheered up not with the promise of letters but a toilet seat from a prank. This, then, is something she’d appreciate. Her second appearance also involves her mother telling her to be quiet (and a lot of excitement over seeing Harry Potter.)

In the second book she’s introduced shy and nervous over meeting Harry properly. Crucially her silence is considered atypical by her family.

“Ginny,” said Ron. “You don’t know how weird it is for her to be this shy. She never shuts up normally —”

While Harry is visiting, her mother goes on a tangent about how expensive it is to buy all Ginny’s things even if it’s secondhand. Like her older brother, Ron, Ginny is well aware of her families’ poverty and likely how much more she costs than her siblings. While Ron has hand-me downs from Fred, George, Percy, Bill, and Charlie she is a girl and her second-hand clothes need to be bought fresh.

When she arrives at Hogwarts she’s immediately sorted into Gryffindor - for valuing chivalry, nerve, daring, courage, etc.

From there she disappears slightly from the narrative, reappearing when Ron talks mockingly about her crush on Harry and again at the beginning of October where we start to notice side-affects from her possession:

Her Pepperup Potion worked instantly, though it left the drinker smoking at the ears for several hours afterward. Ginny Weasley, who had been looking pale, was bullied into taking some by Percy.

We also get a hint that she’s starting to worry as she blanches when Ron tries to reassure her that they’ll catch the ‘maniac’ who petrified Mrs Norris and killed the chickens.

The possession continues to have an adverse impact on Ginny. We have a sentence where Percy mentions Ginny is upset but the narrative ignores her, just like the trio does, until after Colin Creevey’s petrification when we learn that:

Ginny Weasley, who sat next to Colin Creevey in Charms, was distraught, but Harry felt that Fred and George were going the wrong way about cheering her up. They were taking turns covering themselves with fur or boils and jumping out at her from behind statues. They only stopped when Percy, apoplectic with rage, told them he was going to write to Mrs. Weasley and tell her Ginny was having nightmares.

So at this point in the narrative we know that Percy is worried about his younger sister’s first year. She’s been crying, she looks ill, she’s been having nightmares. By this point in the narrative we haven’t seen much of the talkative girl who asserts her right to be where her brothers are and do what they do by breaking into broom sheds at night.

Her second spoken sentence in the book comes in Chapter Twelve where:

Ginny didn’t find it amusing either. “Oh, don’t,” she wailed every time Fred asked Harry loudly who he was planning to attack next, or when George pretended to ward Harry off with a large clove of garlic when they met.

By this point in the narrative, Ginny’s suspicions are firming up. She’s being possessed. Her energy is being stripped from her and her body is being used against her will. She’s worried, has been since the chicken feathers we find out when Tom Riddle appears in the chamber, but is struggling to reconcile her “friend” with the “Heir” and, since nothing horrible has happened in her life up until this point, she has no frame of reference for what to do.

Roughly around Christmas time she tries to destroy the diary only to discover it had fallen into Harry’s hands.

A hush fell over the onlookers. Ginny was staring from the diary to Harry, looking terrified.

Which must have been her worst nightmare. Her hero and crush is in terrible danger.

Ginny is scared out of her mind and yet she still tries to tell him what’s been going on, warn him about the diary,

Just then, Ginny Weasley came over and sat down next to Ron. She looked tense and nervous, and Harry noticed that her hands were twisting in her lap. “What’s up?” said Ron, helping himself to more porridge. Ginny didn’t say anything, but glanced up and down the Gryffindor table with a scared look on her face that reminded Harry of someone, though he couldn’t think who. “Spit it out,” said Ron, watching her. Harry suddenly realized who Ginny looked like. She was rocking backward and forward slightly in her chair, exactly like Dobby did when he was teetering on the edge of revealing forbidden information. ... Ginny opened her mouth, but no sound came out.

but the appearance of her staid older brother who has been mothering her in Molly’s absence - the only sibling constantly looking out for her, who she would probably feel great love for and hate to disappoint - causes her to lose her courage.

As a result she decides to break into Harry’s room and steal the diary in order to protect him. She’s promptly repossessed and damseled for Harry to rescue.

The conversation between Tom and harry reveals a lot about Ginny’s inner life.

“The diary,” said Riddle. “My diary. Little Ginny’s been writing in it for months and months, telling me all her pitiful worries and woes — how her brothers tease her, how she had to come to school with secondhand robes and books, ... Ginny simply loved me. No one’s ever understood me like you, Tom. ... “Yes,” said Riddle, calmly. “Of course, she didn’t know what she was doing at first. It was very amusing. I wish you could have seen her new diary entries . . . far more interesting, they became. . . . Dear Tom,” he recited, watching Harry’s horrified face, “I think I’m losing my memory. There are rooster feathers all over my robes and I don’t know how they got there. Dear Tom, I can’t remember what I did on the night of Halloween, but a cat was attacked and I’ve got paint all down my front. Dear Tom, Percy keeps telling me I’m pale and I’m not myself. I think he suspects me. . . . There was another attack today and I don’t know where I was. Tom, what am I going to do? I think I’m going mad. . . . I think I’m the one attacking everyone, Tom!”

This is objectively horrifying stuff. It’s worth noting though that the most we learn about Ginny, her life and fears, in two books is through male characters explaining her to the reader. First Ron tells us Ginny isn’t a quiet character then Tom tells us everything that she experienced in her first year.

Immediately after her posession Ginny worries about being blamed for what happened and what her mother will say. A fear which probably wasn’t assuaged when the truth comes out and her parents respond by saying:

“His d-diary!” Ginny sobbed. “I’ve b-been writing in it, and he’s been w-writing back all year —”

“Ginny!” said Mr. Weasley, flabbergasted. “Haven’t I taught you anything? What have I always told you? Never trust anything that can think for itself if you can’t see where it keeps its brain. Why didn’t you show the diary to me, or your mother? A suspicious object like that, it was clearly full of Dark Magic —”

As a feminist this scene is very interesting. While Dumbledore has just attempted to explain that her assailant has violated people much stronger and smarter than her, Ginny’s parents immediately ask her what on earth she was thinking. As a horror trope possession is next to rape. If we flip it we have a female character worried that she’s going to be in trouble for what was done to her, who is told that her assailant is a repeat offender who has attacked people she would consider more able to defend themselves, she is then immediately asked why she allowed this to happen to her. She knows better than to go out in that dress, hang out with that boy alone, write in a sentient object.

At the end of the book we are meant to accept that Ginny is ‘perfectly happy’ again.

With respect to JK Rowling, that’s unlikely. Which is something she acknowledges in Prisoner of Azkaban when Ginny is one of the characters worst affected by the dementors. Narrative wise Ginny isn’t very present in this novel, quiet and blushing around Harry but she does start to assert herself more as the story progresses.

In Goblet of Fire she properly becomes close friends with Hermione, another girl who “doesn’t know when to be quiet.”hanging around in a boys club and from the moment Harry arrives at the Burrow she talks and asserts her opinions - even if she’s blushing and nervous at the beginning. She shows herself to be clever, correctly identifying a politician and his cabinet position. How many thirteen year olds can do that in our world? She hangs over the edge of the box to see Quidditch better (and they are very very high up).

Even before she punches Luna’s bullies, she shows herself to be a defender and protector of the less popular.

“He told me after Potions! Said she’s always been really nice, helping him out with work and stuff — but she told him she was already going with someone. Ha! As if! She just didn’t want to go with Neville . . . I mean, who would?” “Don’t!” said Ginny, annoyed. “Don’t laugh —”

She accepts Neville’s invitation to the ball and honours it, even when she could have said yes to Ron’s proposal - she looked like she wanted to - told Neville she changed her mind and gone with her crush: Harry.

That’s a girl with integrity.

In Order of the Pheonix she, like her siblings, attempts to listen in at the meetings and is loudly, continually, exuberant. She is no longer shy around Harry and incorporates fully into the group. She defends Luna from bullies, joins Dumbledore’s Army, proves herself to be magically powerful and capable at Defense, and defends Harry. Ginny unashamedly takes Harry’s place as seeker, without caring what he would think and reveals that she’d been breaking the rules since childhood.

When Harry reveals his fears about Voldemort she gets angry at the way he’s forgotten that she, too, has suffered because of him. She reminds him that she was possessed and would know what it’s like and tells him that she hasn’t been able to forget about it the way he clearly did. To Harry it’s Adventure Two, to Ginny it’s a formative moment of profound trauma which lasted for almost an entire year culminating in her attempted murder.

When Michael Corner becomes upset that she defeated his house team she breaks up with him. When her brothers are horrified that she’s dating Dean Thomas and attempt to slut shame her, she silences them and declares it’s her right to date whoever she wants.

In Half Blood Prince she’s tapped by kingmaker Horace Slughorn as someone who will go far. While I, personally, don’t enjoy the way she treats Fluer Delacour in this novel and excuses Harry’s decision to use sectumsempra on Malfoy - Ginny is golden in this book.

She refuses to allow Ron to slut shame her for kissing her boyfriend. She breaks up with him because of what she assumes to be the latest in a string of incidents where he’s patronised her (in reality Harry knocked into her.) She deliberately crashes her broom into Zacharius Smith after he makes cruel comments.

In short, Ginny remains vibrant and alive. She asserts her right to bodily autonomy and defends those weaker than herself. She can be prejudiced in applying her moral code to those she considers to be undeserving but she follows her beliefs with integrity. When Harry breaks up with her for her own good she accepts it with grace and dignity, even as she points out that it’s “stupid”

Harry, in Deathly Hallows, leaves her behind at the school where we know that she, Neville, and Luna started a student revolution. She breaks into Snape’s office in an attempt to steal the Sword of Gryffindor and makes herself so much of a nuisance that the Death Eaters have to take notice.

One of the great disservices done to Ginny’s character is when Harry sides with her mother in an attempt to keep her safe by keeping her locked in the Room of Requirement. Her jubilation when she’s set free and furious battle with the Death Eaters proves how much she hated it and how wrong it was to keep her there. Ginny is a formidable fighter, her skills could have been used and, like everyone in the Wizarding World, she was never safe while Voldemort was alive.

The Ginny who broke up with her boyfriend for helping her through the portrait hole one too many times could not have taken kindly to that.

What we see when we look at Ginny’s plotline throughout the books is one where she continually asserts herself and her right to be and do whatever she wants. She defends those weaker than her and is profoundly sensitive to any attempts to control her body - unsurprising after what happened to her at eleven but still inspiring. Despite this, her narrative is one where other attempt to control and silence her. From her mother, to Tom Riddle, to Voldemort and his Death Eaters, to her various boyfriends - Harry included - everyone tries to tell Ginevra Weasley what to do and how to behave. It is one of her greatest strengths and most admirable qualities that she refuses to be controlled.

It says a lot, I think, that in a family which contains a sibling who breaks curses in Egypt, a sibling who works with dragons, a sibling with aspirations for the ministry, and a family with Fred and George - it is growing up with Ginny that teaches Ron anything is possible if you’ve got enough nerve.

#character analysis #ginny weasley #this got long #i just really love her ok

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