#but this is the sappiest she's ever gonna get. for his birthday. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

izzyfandoms · 5 years ago

Text

Sleepality - Inky Freckles

SHIPS: Sleepality, background Virmile and Thomgan, and mentioned Dukeceit (though neither of them show up)

WARNINGS: Remus sends one text message with an implied threat (not towards the recipient), very very background sympathetic deceit and remus (they aren't acc in any scenes), mild swearing

GENERAL TAGLIST: @quillfics42 @ajdraws0430 @phantomofthesanderssides @creativity-killed-thekitten @phlying-squirrel @sly-is-my-name-loving-is-my-game @because-were-fam-ily @imtryingthisout @a-creepycookie @emo-disaster @littlestr @spooky-scary-virgil @fuyel @mimsidoodles @soupgremlin @aroaceagenderfluid @birdsbookshiddeninrealbirdsskin @quirkalurk @gingers-trashy-stuff @iinyxtello @justaqueercactus @melodiread

Masterpost

Patton chewed distractedly on the end of his pen, tapping his foot on his bedroom floor as his eyes remained on his clock, watching as the seconds and the minutes ticked by.

Five minutes. Ten seconds.

Five minutes and ten seconds until the moment he turned sixteen.

January 15th, 1:46 am on the dot: the exact date and time of Patton’s birth. Precisely sixteen years after that moment, his soul would open up, and the bond between him and his soulmate would be formed, like an invisible string from one soul to the other. Any ink spilled on Patton’s skin would show up on his soulmate’s, too, and vice versa. Of course, nothing would happen if Patton’s soulmate wasn’t also sixteen yet, but it was still a big moment in his young life.

(If he even had a soulmate, that was. Most people didn’t, but Patton wouldn’t lie and say he wasn’t hopeful.)

Four minutes. Thirty-six seconds.

Patton got up from his desk, pacing around the room a few times before sitting down on his bed, leaning back against the pillows and pulling his knees to his chest. Despite the coolness of his room, and the goose-bumps on his arms, he was dressed in a worn blue t-shirt and pyjama shorts, revealing as much skin as possible, just in case. His father, Roman, had gifted him a new pack of pens – the ones made specially to be safe for skin – and he’d picked out the glittery light blue one, his favourite colour, ready to write.

Three minutes. Twelve seconds.

“Come on, come on, come on,” Patton mumbled.

Three minutes. Seven seconds.

He yawned loudly, stretching and almost dropping his pen. It was late – much later than he usually stayed up. Patton was a well-behaved kid; he went to bed when his father told him to, never stayed out past curfew. He was usually fast asleep by 11pm at latest, so this was rather unusual for him.

Tonight was one of a kind, after all.

Two minutes. Fifty-one seconds.

The tick of the clock was maddeningly slow, every second seeming to take hours. Patton couldn’t wait for when he didn’t have to keep watching.

He reached over to his bedside table, taking his phone and switching it on.

There was one new message, from his uncle Remus, sent a few minutes ago.

UNCLE REMUS

tell your soulmate if he ever hurts you ill rip off his dick and shove it down his throat

Patton sighed, switching off his phone and placing it back down beside him. He wasn’t sure why his uncle was so certain that he had a soulmate – he claimed it was because he was psychic, though his husband, Janus, had chided him and told him not to get Patton’s hopes up.

It was hard not to be hopeful. Impossible.

One minute. Forty-nine seconds.

Patton chewed nervously on his lip, looking over his freckled arms and wondering what exactly he’d write to his soulmate.

Would a simple ‘hello’ suffice?

There was no point in writing a whole paragraph, especially when it was statistically unlikely that Patton even had a soulmate – and even if he did, perhaps they were younger, and their connection wouldn’t start until his soulmate turned sixteen, too.

One minute. Zero seconds.

A minute. A minute. A minute. Just a minute until Patton (maybe) talked to his soulmate for the first time. That was so little time – though it felt like so much.

Patton couldn’t help but burst into delighted laughter, and he was sure that if anybody was watching him, they’d think he was insane. The hope bubbled up inside him, like a cup overflowing with water, unable to be suppressed.

Fifty seconds.

He moved forward, and then lay down on his back, spreading his arms out like a starfish.

Patton tried to keep the hope down, tried to keep it from spilling over even more. Or maybe that was nausea, swirling in his stomach, but it almost felt too good to be that. Too happy. Too excited. Both, maybe.

Forty seconds.

Patton twirled the pen in his hand.

It slipped from his fingers, hitting the carpet with a quiet thump.

He bent down – wobbling slightly and nearly tumbling right off his bed – picking it back up and then sitting up again. He moved so his back was pressed against the wall, and tilted his head up to look at the pattern at the ceiling, counting each swirl.

He glanced back at the clock.

Twenty seconds.

His heart thumped loudly in his chest, and his eyes remained on the clock, watching it tick.

Ten seconds.

Nine.

Eight.

Seven.

Six.

Five.

Four.

Three.

Two.

One.

Zero.

Zero. Zero. Zero.

Patton sat up straight, squeezing the pen tightly, so tightly that his nails dug into his palm.

He pulled off the cap, dropping it on the bed beside him and holding the tip just above his wrist. His hand shook (nervousness or excitement? Both) as he pondered what to write for another moment.

He pressed the pen to his skin.

Hello?

Hopefully that was good enough.

Patton waited a few seconds, almost a whole minute, and then sighed, leaning back so his head hit the wall and closing his eyes. He was disappointed, but he knew that it was his own fault. He shouldn’t have let himself get so hopeful. Maybe he didn’t have a soulmate – that was alright, his uncles weren’t soulmates and yet they were wonderfully happy together.

(But his brother, Emile, did have a soulmate, and there was something amazing about the way he and Virgil could practically read each other’s minds, communicating effortlessly without saying a word. Patton wanted that. He really, desperately wanted that, more than anything else in the world.)

He wouldn’t cry.

He wanted to cry, but he wouldn’t.

His lower lip trembled.

All of a sudden, Patton felt a funny sensation on his wrist, like someone else was writing on it – the non-existent pen so light on his skin he almost couldn’t feel it. Almost.

Patton’s eyes shot open, and he immediately lifted his wrist to stare at it, wide-eyed.

His breath stuttered at the words now written in black ink just below his greeting.

holy shit

Before Patton could truly process what was going on, before he could regain his breath, the sensation resumed, and more words began to appear below those first ones.

guess im ur soulmate lol

Patton couldn’t help but giggle, practically vibrating with excitement.

He picked his pen back up, ignoring the slight stain he’d left on his bedsheets. He’d spilt enough juice and milk on his bed to care about one little stain, especially right now, when he had a much more important thing to focus on.

Oh my gosh!!!!!!

Soulmate!!!

Im Patton!

Patton Picani!!!

thats a lot of exclamation marks babe

Nervousness tinged the edges of Patton’s bubble of excitement, enough that he almost didn’t notice the use of the word ‘babe’, which made his heart skip a beat.

sorry

not a bad thing

its cute

Patton bit his lip, wiggling excitedly as his heartrate increased. He watched as the words continued coming. They were messy, but Patton was sure the handwriting was the prettiest he’d ever seen, though he could admit that he might’ve been a little biased. He would read a million books written in this handwriting.

im Remy

Sanders

my bdays acc the 16th lol

tomorrow

i turn 17

Its my birthday today!!!!

Only after Patton wrote that did he realise how obvious it was – of course it was his birthday – but he didn’t particularly care. The ticking of the clock had faded into background noise, and it was hard to believe it had ever annoyed him so much, though it was impossible for him to think of anything negative right now. He was floating on cloud nine.

happy birthday

were running out of arm space

id have to strip to get leg room

wanna gimme ur number?

Okay!!!

They quickly exchanged phone numbers, and Patton immediately grabbed his phone, creating a new contact labelled ‘Remy’ followed by seven colourful hearts – a rainbow of love. But before he could text Remy, Remy texted him first.

REMY:

what time is it for u

Patton glanced at the clock.

PATTON:

Almost 2am

REMY:

same

Realisation struck Patton, and his eyes widened with guilt and concern. He bit his lip, and quickly resumed typing.

PATTON:

Oh my gosh im so sorry!!!! Did I wake you up?

REMY:

nah babe dw bout it

i was already up

i always sleep late

PATTON:

That sounds unhealthy :(

Get some rest!!!

REMY:

u sound like my dads lol

PATTON:

What are they like?

REMY:

my dads?

its just the three of us

their names are logan and thomas and theyre the sappiest motherfuckers on earth

gotta love em tho

theyre gonna be real thrilled when they find out bout u

bet theyll love you right away

wbu

whats ur fam like

PATTON:

Oh! Well ive got my dad

His name’s Roman

He works in theatre!!! Hes so cool

And I’ve got my older brother Emile hes 22 and hes a therapist

He uses cartoons to help people!!

Hes also got a soulmate his name is Virgil and hes a florist

They got married last year and the wedding was so much fun!!! So many pretty flowers!!!

And I’ve got my uncle Remus hes my dads twin hes a writer and his husband Janus is a lawyer theyre also both so cool!!!

And that’s everyone!!

REMY:

if theyre all as sweet as u sugar then im sure ur all v popular

PATTON:

Well we do have dinner with our neighbours a lot!!!

Mrs Smith gives me lots of candy

Its often stale but I eat it anyway cos shes just so sweet!

Sweeter than her candy lol

Patton’s door suddenly swung open, and he jumped, his phone slipping from his fingers and landing right in his lap. His father, Roman, stepped inside, yawning and rubbing his eyes, wincing at the bright light that hung from the ceiling.

“You still up, Pat?” He asked sleepily.

He squinted, his eyes landing on the still-on phone in Patton’s lap.

“Who are you te- by the glittering horn of a unicorn! Is that writing on your arm?” He sat down, taking Patton’s arm and looking over the words. He then glanced back up at his son, his eyes shining excitedly. “You have a soulmate,” He breathed.

“I do!” Patton exclaimed, bouncing excitedly in place. “His name is Remy and he turns seventeen tomorrow and he’s just so cool!”

Roman beamed. “Wow, I’m so incredibly happy for you, Pat!” He said. Then, he chuckled, his smile turning a little teasing. “But... it’s late, and you really should be sleeping. And I’m betting that Remy should be, too.”

Patton pouted a little. “But it’s a Friday! I don’t have any school tomorrow.”

“But the family’s coming over tomorrow at 10 for your birthday, and I know you. You’re gonna be all grumbly in the morning, instead of our happy-pappy Patton, and that’ll be even worse the less sleep you get.”

Patton drooped, like a little wilting flower, but couldn’t deny that his father was right.

“Okay...” He frowned, picking up his phone, switching off the screen without looking at it, and holding it against his chest. “Can I at least say night to Remy, first?”

Roman smiled. “Sure.”

He leant forward, squeezing Patton’s arm supportively, before pressing a quick kiss to his son’s forehead. Roman gave him one last smile, affectionately ruffling his hair, before pulling back and standing up. He brushed the non-existent dirt from his pyjamas.

“Goodnight, Pat,” He said. “And happy birthday.”

In the excitement that was talking to Remy, Patton had almost forgotten that it was his birthday, and he blinked in surprise as Roman left the room, quietly shutting the door behind him.

Patton then took a deep breath, before switching his phone back on to see whatever messages he’d missed.

REMY:

u rlly r an angel huh

PATTON:

Awwwww!!

Your making me blush

REMY:

thats the goal babe

PATTON:

Such a flirt!!

REMY:

im gonna be ten times more flirty when i get to see ur pretty face in person

PATTON:

How do you know Im pretty?

You havent even seen me yet

REMY:

i can just tell

im awesome like that

i bet ur the cutest person in the whole damn world

the whole damn universe

but while were on the subject of seeing each other

were waiting to meet naturally right?

PATTON:

Yeah!

Its good luck

REMY:

yea

PATTON:

Welp!!!

Dad says I gotta go to sleep now!!

Night <3<3<3

REMY:

night xoxox

Patton switched off his phone, placing it on his bedside table and getting off the bed. He wobbled slightly as he stood up, suddenly realising how tired he really was, and quickly walked up to his fairy lights, switching them on before switching off the main light. He then climbed back into bed, settling in the soft nest of pastel pillows and blankets, and his last thought before he fell asleep was of his soulmate.

He barely knew Remy, but he already couldn’t wait to spend the rest of his life with him.

***

The sound of the alarm from Remy’s phone rang through the room, waking him up suddenly. His immediate reaction was to groan, shutting it off quickly and then returning to the warm comfort of his mattress and pillows and blanket. It was the weekend, he had no plans, so if his dads wanted him up, they could come in and get him up themselves. Remy wanted to sleep.

Then, the memories of the night before flooded back to him, and he shot up in bed, pulling out his arm and staring at it wide-eyed.

The words Patton had written last night had now been washed away – likely to leave room for new words and new conversations – whilst Remy’s words still remained, though now a little smudged and faded. The only sign that Patton’s words had ever been there in the first place was the new word on his wrist, just below his palm, in baby blue, like the ones before.

Morning <3

Remy grinned, jumping out of bed much more enthusiastically than he usually did, grabbing the black pen on his bedside table and rushing to the bathroom, thankfully not bumping into either of his dads on the way there.

He washed his arms as quickly as he could, leaving them a little sore and red, though he didn’t care, and uncapped his pen with his teeth, leaving the lid in his mouth.

mornin

!!!!!

Do you always get up this late?

Remy laughed. The handwriting was a little larger and a little neater than his, and each i was dotted with a heart, which made him even more convinced that his soulmate was probably the cutest person on earth.

what time is it

10:30

later usually

what time did u get up

8:30

oof

i could never

What do you do for school then?

suffer

Remy took the pen lid out of his mouth, pocketing it and twirling the uncapped pen between his fingers, watching as more light blue words appeared on his arm. The sensation was feather-light, barely there, but impossible to ignore.

Aww no!!

I don’t want you to suffer :(

dw babe ive got coffee

life saver

id die without it

100%

Well make sure you don’t drink too much!!!!

Its bad for you!!

dw my dad always tells me that

he keeps an eye on it

Which one?

logan

Okay

There was a brief pause, and Remy almost continued writing, but he got the feeling that Patton wasn’t done, so he just waited patiently, tapping his foot against the tiled bathroom floor.

Do you mind if I doodle on my arms?

I usually do when Im bored but I thought Id ask

I wont if you don’t want me to tho

go ahead

what do u doodle?

I usually just connect my freckles

Like little constellations!!!!

It was impossible to keep the grin on Remy’s face from widening – Patton's enthusiasm was adorable and infectious – and he sat down on the edge of the bathtub, crossing one leg over the other as he pressed his pen to his skin and continued writing.

u got a lot of freckles?

Yup!

Theyre everywhere

everywhere?

Yeah!

one day

im gonna kiss every single one of your freckles

(Perhaps that was a little bold for only their second conversation, but Remy was a natural flirt, and Patton was his soulmate, after all. He’d back down at any sign of discomfort, but so far Patton had seemed receptive.)

every single one

Thats a lot of kisses

not enough

but itll be a good start

A little, swirly scribble appeared just beside the words Remy had written – the universal key-smash equivalent for soulmates writing on their skin. Just the thought that he was already able to fluster Patton so easily made Remy very, very happy. He grinned.

Gtg! Presents time!

Ill talk to you later <3<3<3

later xoxo

Remy fished the pen lid back out of his pocket, capping the pen and pocketing it. He then strolled back out of the bathroom, down the stairs, and towards the kitchen.

His fathers were both sat at the kitchen table, eating breakfast and talking. Their legs were pressed together under the table, and it was clear they’d just been flirting. Both Logan and Thomas looked up when Remy entered the room, surprised.

“What kind of natural disaster got you up before midday?” Thomas joked.

Remy waved his arm, showing off the writing, and Logan choked on his coffee. Thomas patted his back a few times worriedly, and Remy waited impatiently for the conversation to resume, tapping his foot against the floor.

“Is that what I think it is?” Logan asked incredulously, once he was breathing again.

Remy nodded. “Yup. Can I make coffee?”

Thomas nodded slowly, but it was clear he was much more focused on the previous topic at hand.

“You have a soulmate?” He asked. “Oh my gosh! What’s their name? Aren’t you gonna tell us about them?”

“Well, his name’s Patton,” Remy began, heading towards the coffee machine and immediately getting to work to make himself a large mug. “It’s his birthday today – it was actually, like, 2am, or something – and he’s real cute. I think you’ll both like him.”

Thomas exchanged a look with his husband – the former much more openly thrilled, whilst the latter looked more confused, though undeniably pleased. He then stood up, opening his arms immediately.

“I think this calls for a family hug,” Thomas grinned.

Logan sighed, but put his own coffee mug back down, getting up obediently.

Remy groaned. “Really? Before my coffee? Do I have to?”

“Yup! Right now,” Thomas said, wrapping one arm around Logan’s waist and resting his chin on his head, keeping his other arm outstretched, awaiting their son. “This is a big moment! It calls for a family hug. C’mere.”

“There is no point refusing, Remy,” Logan said dryly. “I learnt that a long time ago.”

“Aww, you love me.”

“Of course. That is why we got married, after all.”

Remy groaned again. “Are you two really flirting, right now? Gross.”

“Well, if you want us to stop flirting, you’re gonna have to join the hug.”

Remy sighed exaggeratedly, dragging his feet as he walked up to his dads, reluctantly joining the family hug. Then, he pulled back as quickly as he could get away with, making a face and turning back to the coffee machine. He quickly made himself a large mug – with excessive amounts of milk and sugar, something his father would usually criticise, though he seemed to turn a blind eye for today.

Remy then sat down at the table, beside Thomas, sipping eagerly at his coffee and leaning back in his chair.

His fathers didn’t take their eyes off of his arm, clearly reading the words, and after about a minute, Remy rolled his eyes, placing the coffee on his table and crossing his arms.

“What are you looking at?”

“Attitude, Remy,” Thomas sighed. “Be nice. And we’re looking at your arm because we’re excited! You have a soulmate, that’s a really big deal! We should celebrate.”

Remy perked up. “Celebrate?”

Logan nodded in agreement. “Perhaps tonight we could have dinner at the Italian place that you like.”

“Ooh, the one with that fancy pasta?”

“Weren’t we planning on going there tomorrow?” Thomas asked his husband.

Remy blinked, surprised. “We were?”

Thomas blinked, and then gave his husband a slightly sheepish smile. “I don’t think I was supposed to tell you that.”

Logan sighed. “Well, I think we can put that off for tomorrow, then. Today... you may invite a few friends over.” Remy opened his mouth, but Logan quickly continued, interrupting him before he could speak. “Three friends, maximum. No parties.”

Remy pouted. “Only three? Lame.”

“If you complain, we’ll bring it down to two.”

“Three sounds great!”

***

Patton picked up his phone, holding it to his ear as he paced casually around his room.

“Emile!” He greeted. “How are you?”

“Happy birthday, Pat!” Emile greeted cheerfully, and Patton could practically hear the usual smile on his face. “And I’m doing great. Virgil invited his brother to dinner yesterday, so that was fun, and I had a real breakthrough with one of my clients, too. You?”

“I’m good! Hey, do you think this counts as Remy and my anniversary? I mean, I know we haven’t actually really met, yet, but it’s been a year since we first spoke, and we are soulmates. Does that count? Would it be weird to count it?”

Emile hummed. “I think that if you want it to count, it counts.”

“That’s a bit vague,” Patton sighed.

Emile laughed. “That’s just how it works, I’m afraid. How is Remy anyway? It’s his birthday tomorrow, right?”

Patton perked up at the opportunity to talk about his soulmate. “Remy’s great! He got a new job at the Starbucks near his house; he’s pretty excited about it. And yup, it’s his birthday tomorrow! He turns eighteen. It’s a funny coincidence, isn’t it? That our birthdays are so close?”

“It’s actually a lot more common for soulmates to have these similarities than you’d think,” Emile said. “Close birthdays, close locations, things like that. I mean, Virgil and I were both born in the same hospital.”

“Really? Oh, that’s cool!” Patton smiled.

He sat down on his bed, pulling his legs up to sit cross-legged, and moving so his back was against the wall, half-sitting on one of his pillows.

“Yup! I’ve researched a lot about these things,” Emile said. “And- oh, Virgil, there you are!”

Patton heard rustling on the other end of the line, like Emile was temporarily putting his phone down, probably to greet and kiss his husband. He waited patiently, humming a song from the Steven Universe movie and drumming his fingers against his leg. His eyes scanned the various words written across his arms. Shiny black and glittery light blue. There were doodles, too – lines connecting the dots of his freckles, done by himself, and little stars and moons and hearts by Remy.

Then the rustling resumed, more movement, and Patton stopped humming.

“Morning, Pat,” Virgil greeted.

Patton smiled. “Virgil! How’s work going?”

“Not bad. I helped a guy arrange a hate-bouquet for his ex-boyfriend yesterday, so that was fun.”

“Sounds interesting!”

Virgil hummed in agreement, and it sounded like he was nodding. “I’m gonna hand the phone back to Emile, now. Happy birthday, kid.”

“Thanks!”

There was another moment of rustling, and then Emile returned.

“Okay, Virgil and I have to get to work,” Emile said. “We’re stopping by later for dinner, dad already knows. And, before you ask, no I will not tell you what your gift is, you’re gonna have to wait and see.”

Patton pouted. “Aww, okay. Bye!”

“Bye!”

Patton hung up the phone, before switching over to the texting app, and opening up his conversation with Remy.

PATTON

Hey im running out of space

So im gonna clean my arm

Can you too?

Remy responded almost immediately, as he usually did.

REMY

sure

one sec

Patton smiled, getting up and pocketing his phone. He headed over to the bathroom, quickly scrubbing away the words on his arms (he could leave the ones still remaining on his legs and torso, for now), and watching as Remy’s words disappeared at about the same time.

He then returned to his bedroom, sitting back down on his bed and fetching and uncapping his favourite pen.

The moment the tip of his pen touched his skin, a small black dot appeared just below it, like Remy was doing the exact same on his side – unintentionally trying to write in unison. All of a sudden, a wave of peace and happiness washed over Patton, but the emotions didn’t come from within himself. No, they came from an outside source, from somewhere else. Not from him.

From Remy.

At first, Patton was confused, disoriented, and then his heart skipped a beat, and he lifted his pen from his wrist.

The feeling stopped.

He then returned the pen to his wrist, creating another dot of light blue ink. For a moment, nothing happened, the feeling didn’t return, but then a small black speck appeared just beside his.

This time, the happiness was joined by an almost cautious excitement, tinged with something else.

What was it?

Love?

Love.

It felt like Patton was loving himself, except the love came from elsewhere, it came from Remy. Like a warm, comfortable blanket of love, wrapping around him and keeping him safe.

Patton beamed, wide and toothy and delighted, leaning back against the pillows and practically wiggling with excitement, careful to keep his pen tip on his wrist. A similar, thrilled feeling came back at him, and Patton quickly realised that whatever feelings he was getting from Remy, Remy was probably getting some very similar feelings in return from him.

damn babe

either something v weird is happening to me or thats ur feelings im feeling

I can feel it too!!!

Oh my gosh!

good i was worried i might be drunk

Have you been drinking?

nah thats why i was worried lmao

would be v weird to be drunk with no booze

Well that sure would be unusual!

The feelings from Remy weren’t constant, they only surfaced when both Patton and Remy were writing at once – flashes of emotions that were practically addicting. He wanted to keep feeling those feelings forever.

this is v weird

on and off

think itll get more constant the more we talk?

like we wont need to be both writing at the same time to feel it or smth?

Yeah!

I think so

Thats what happened with Em and Virge at least

cool

cant wait

There was a brief pause, and then Remy’s writing resumed.

can we doodle?

might make the empathy connection thingy better

Sure!

Patton giggled, unable to help himself, before pressing the tip of his pen to one of his freckles and drawing a thin line from it to another. Then another and another and another. Over and around the written words. He wasn’t making any specific shape or pattern in particular, just connecting the numerous dots. As he did this, Patton felt new shapes and doodles appearing on his legs, though he couldn’t see them through his trousers. Hearts and stars and moons and pawprints, most likely. The last one was new – Patton’s favourite.

He could feel Remy’s peace and contentment and love (love, love), like it was flowing through the air and seeping through his skin, filling him with happiness. Sometimes, it even increased for a brief moment, usually just after Patton’s happiness bubbled over into delighted giggles. It was a cycle – happiness creating happiness creating happiness.

Patton loved Remy. Remy loved Patton.

Love. Love. Love.

***

“Hey, Remy!”

Remy glanced up from his phone, straightening up as noticed and watched his best friend, Toby, approaching him. His foot tapped impatiently against the pavement, and his sunglasses were on to shield his eyes from bright midday sun.

“Gurl, what was taking you so long?” Remy complained, stuffing his phone into his pocket and crossing his arms, practically pouting. “I’ve been waiting here for, like, hours.”

Toby gave him a dry look. “I’m ten minutes late.”

“And that’s, like, ten hours in gay-and-in-a-hurry time.”

“In a hurry? What the hell are we even doing? Your text was very vague.”

“Well, it’s my dad’s birthday in a-”

“Which one?”

“Thomas. Bitch, stop interrupting me.”

Toby laughed, and Remy glared at him. He held his hands up defensively in mock surrender, and then gestured for Remy to continue.

“Anyway, it’s my dad’s birthday on Sunday and I’m supposed to get him a gift. I dunno what, though, so you’re gonna help me.”

“I’m pretty sure you know him better than I do.”

Remy shushed him. “Gurl, I am not letting you get out of helping me. So, we’re going to-”

He suddenly froze, going silent. Remy’s brow then creased, too, and after a moment of stillness he began to rapidly pat his arms and legs, like he was looking for something, though he didn’t seem to find it. Toby gave him a bewildered look.

“Dude, what are you doing?”

“I can feel Patton’s emotions,” Remy said.

He could, but only barely – just little hints of Patton, pricking the edges of his soul – much less than he was used to, but still impossible to ignore. He was used to these feelings by now, always recognising them immediately, though this time it was... different.

“Okay... so, he’s writing to you? Isn’t that normal?”

Remy looked back at him, looking just as confused as Toby. “No, he isn’t. He isn’t writing to me. No ink.”

“He... isn’t?”

“I can always feel it,” Remy explained. “Always. But not right now. Why... why-” He froze, his eyes widening behind his dark sunglasses.

“What?”

“He must be close. He must- oh my god, he must be close!” Remy looked around quickly, at all of the surrounding pedestrians. None of them looked right – none of them were Patton – but he could practically sense him. He was so close.

Toby blinked. “Really?” He asked incredulously.

“Yes. Yes, really. I know what I’m talking about!” Remy exclaimed, perhaps a little harsher than intended. “The empath shit only happens when you write or when you’re close. Gurl, that’s, like, common knowledge.”

Toby held his hands up. “Right, uh... sorry.” He cleared his throat. “So, how are we gonna find him?”

Remy’s brow scrunched up in thought. “I don’t know.”

His best friend shrugged, even more lost than he was.

“Maybe... maybe...” Remy continued, trailing off, before he suddenly straightened up. “It’ll get stronger the closer I get to him, so I just have to follow where it’s stronger, right? Like... like getting warmer and colder.”

Toby nodded slowly. “That makes sense. So, uh, walk around, and we’ll go in the direction that makes it stronger.”

Remy immediately began to pace in circles around Toby, pulling a slightly panicked face when at one point the feeling completely disappeared. Then, it got stronger, a wave of anticipation and curiosity, nervousness and excitement.

It suddenly hit Remy that if he could feel Patton, then Patton could feel him, too.

Patton was probably looking for him.

The corners of Remy’s lips twitched up into a smile. He was practically oozing excitement, and it was contagious, as Patton’s also seemed to increase – even Toby began smiling, too.

Toby patted him on the shoulder.

“Go on, follow your gut. I’ll be right behind you.”

Remy immediately turned on his heel, sprinting in the direction the emotions seemed to be coming from, and Toby almost tripped over his own feet following him. The empathy got stronger and stronger and stronger with every step, until it was even stronger than it usually was, and as his excitement further increased, so did Patton’s.

He rounded a corner, and immediately ran right into someone running at a similar speed, and they both tumbled to the ground with two loud thumps.

“Ah, fuck,” Remy groaned, closing his eyes and massaging the bridge of his nose as a jolt of pain shot down his leg.

“Oof,” The other boy winced.

His voice was like a bell, ringing through the air: suddenly the only sound that Remy could hear.

That was when Remy realised that Patton’s emotions were now equal to his own – mixing together in Remy’s soul until they were one and the same. It was almost like they were thinking and feeling as one, which was rather disorienting, to say the least.

Patton... Patton was right in front of him.

Remy opened his eyes, immediately coming face-to-face with the most gorgeous person he had even seen – a wide-eyed and freckled boy, about a year younger than Remy, staring back at him with parted lips and an equally startled expression. He was wearing a blue and grey t-shirt, showing off his arms and the words Remy had written to him today, and all the constellations he’d doodled on his own skin. Now, Remy could see the stars that he’d been missing, and, in his opinion, they were even better than the ones in the night sky.

Patton.

Patton, Patton, Patton.

“Patton,” Remy breathed.

“Remy.”

Remy laughed, uncontrolled and loud and delighted, sitting up straight and taking Patton’s hand in his own, squeezing it. It was warm and soft, Remy never wanted to let go, and when Patton squeezed back, he felt... complete. Perfect. Heaven.

Patton smiled – like a shining sun, one that thankfully didn’t hurt to look at, as Remy couldn’t take his eyes off of it.

“Wow,” Remy laughed. “You’re... wow.”

“Wow,” Patton echoed.

People were probably staring at them – Toby included – but Remy couldn’t take his eyes off of Patton to check. Patton seemed to be doing similarly, his eyes slowly taking in every part of Remy’s body, before returning to his face, staring into his eyes.

Patton’s eyes were brown, like honey in the sunlight. Beautiful.

“It’s... it’s nice to finally meet you,” Patton said softly.

“Likewise.”

There was a beat.

“You are gorgeous,” Remy continued, the words coming out before he could stop himself. He almost regretted blurting it out, but then Patton’s face turned a particularly pretty shade of pink, and Remy immediately grinned.

Patton squeezed his hand. “You, too.”

“Oh, I know I’m hot, babe,” Remy said, making Patton giggle. “But you, you’re... you’re an angel. Like, damn, how the hell did I get so lucky? I must’ve done something really freaking amazing in a past life to have deserved you.”

“You’re even more of a flirt in person,” Patton smiled, a little teasingly.

Remy laughed. “I mean, I’m pretty sure I warned you.”

“You did,” Patton said, smiling fondly.

“Is it too soon to ask if I can kiss you?” Remy asked suddenly. His tone of voice was casual, like he was joking, but they both knew – Patton could probably sense – that he was serious.

Patton didn’t hesitate, answering quickly. “No. I mean, yes. I mean... no, it’s not too soon. Please?”

Remy didn’t waste any time, reaching forward, carefully cradling Patton’s face in his hand and kissing him gently. His lips were soft and warm and Remy never wanted to stop kissing him. Patton covered Remy’s hand with his own free one, kissing back a little clumsily, though it was without a doubt enthusiastic.

Then, he got a little too enthusiastic, and Remy tumbled backwards, pulling Patton along with him.

They broke apart, and after a moment of startled – slightly awkward – silence, they both started laughing loudly, and Patton climbed off of him. He finally stood up, holding out his hand and helping Remy up, too.

The pedestrians that had been watching them had mostly all moved on by now, leaving only Toby hovering awkwardly nearby. He had his phone out, trying to distract himself, give them some privacy, though he was undeniably still keeping an eye out. It wasn’t every day you saw a soulmate pair’s first meeting.

Remy took Patton’s hands in his own, looking him over again and again and again.

An idea came to him – not a new one, one he’d thought about and talked about and dreamed and daydreamed about a million times – and he grinned in a way that he could feel made Patton’s heart skip a beat.

“Remember how I said I wanted to kiss every freckle?"

#me #writing #sleepality #sanders sides #remy sanders #sleep sanders #patton sanders #mosleep #soulmate au #human au #sanders sides au #thomas sanders #roman sanders #logan sanders #emile picani #cartoon therapy #virmile #thomgan

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mulletpeters · 4 years ago

Text

toothache of the mind

ship: peterpatter

rating: g

word count: 1938

tags: canon compliant, pre-canon, high school, 1990s, best friends, feelings realization, pining

Reggie gets braces for his sweet sixteen.

He doesn’t tell anyone―not even his best friends in the whole wide world. So when he walks into homeroom the Tuesday after his birthday, Luke nearly topples out of his chair at the sight of the metal wrapped around Reggie’s adorable little snaggletooth. Alex may or may not be hyperventilating, but Luke wouldn’t know. He’s distracted.

Reggie, for his part, is acting like Luke’s world hasn’t just been tilted on its axis in a dangerous way. “Hey, guys,” he says nonchalantly. “Sup?”

Alex recovers much quicker than Luke, though there’s still a glint of concern in his eyes. They both know how self-conscious Reggie can be, especially about his smile, so he treads carefully. “Hey, Reginald. Do anything fun for your birthday?”

They had their own party on Friday after school―Luke gave Reggie a new studded strap for his bass because the one he’d found in Bobby’s garage had started to look pretty sad―but Reggie’s parents are the type to force family time onto him any chance they get. Luke has a sneaking suspicion they only do it so they can use Reggie against each other in whatever asinine argument comes up that day, but it’s not like he can really do anything about it. None of them can, so Reggie is unfortunately left to his own devices when it comes to compulsory dysfunctional family celebrations. “Not really,” he says in lieu of giving any actual details; he’ll tell them eventually, but a crowded classroom is not ideal for dishing out his personal drama. “Got braces.” He shrugs, like his mom hasn’t made him feel like shit about his less than perfect teeth for most of his childhood. Definitely since Luke’s known him, anyway, and they’ve been friends since they were ten.

“Oh, did you?” Alex asks, and it sounds borderline sarcastic but he holds back most of his usual bite. “Let’s see ‘em, then.” He holds an arm out in a grand gesture like he’s giving Reggie the floor, and Reggie flashes the most hesitant smile Luke’s ever seen on him.

Luke swears his heart stops, but Alex is once again carrying the conversation so he does his best to tune in. “Oh, nice,” Alex says, approving of the red brackets stuck to the front of Reggie’s teeth with a slight nod.

Reggie returns the gesture, and he looks considerably more relaxed now that he knows his friends won’t shun him for something this mundane. “Thanks,” he tells Alex before turning to face Luke, and he looks a little apprehensive, like maybe Luke should get his brain to reboot so he can offer some reassuring words instead of just staring like a total weirdo.

Luke wants to say something about how red looks good on him, or how it’s cool that it’ll match his favourite flannel, or maybe he’d settle for even just a supportive thumbs up. What actually comes out of his mouth is, “How long do you have to wear them?”

Reggie gives him a funny look, head tilted and brow furrowed. “Only like, a year,” he answers anyway, and Luke wants to scream.

Thankfully, the teacher chooses that moment to draw their attention to the front of the room, and Reggie turns around in his seat so Luke can only see the back of his head. Luke sighs in relief, sinking further into his chair till his limbs are sprawled out into the aisle, accepting his defeat. It’s gonna be a long year.

Luke decidedly does not address the issue after that day. The issue being that weird fluttery feeling he gets in his chest every time Reggie smiles at him, or laughs, or talks, or breathes. Basically any time he sees the glint of metal in Reggie’s mouth, really.

It’s not like this is a new development, exactly; Luke has always had a bit of a soft spot for Reggie, a little bit of weakness. In the six years they’ve known each other, he can’t recall a time that Reggie just existing didn’t make his brain static out. The braces just made him recognize what’s always been true, even if he still doesn’t know how to make sense of it.

Normally he’d talk to his best friends about whatever’s on his mind, but he can’t very well articulate a dilemma he can’t comprehend to begin with. Plus, he doubts Alex would be any help, considering he’s got his own set of issues to work through, and he’d rather die than bring it up with Reggie himself. And as for Bobby, well. Bobby’s got the emotional depth of a puddle. So, naturally, he does the only logical thing there is to do: he writes.

He figures if Reggie’s smile is stuck in his head like a song, he might as well make it one. It’s what he’s good at, and it gives him a false sense of separation from the issue that grants a certain clarity he can’t get any other way. He jots down pages and pages of lyrics, curled up in his bed late one night, fingers itching for his guitar even though he knows his mom would kill him if she caught him playing at 1am again. So he just sits cross-legged on his comforter, hunched over his ratty old notebook, scrawling cliche lines about green eyes and freckles and an endearingly crooked canine.

It’s the sappiest thing he’s ever written. When he reads over it before school the next morning, he knows he’s well and truly fucked.

Reggie plops down into the dip in the center of the studio couch, inadvertently leaning onto Luke’s shoulder. “You working on a new song?” he asks, tilting his chin at the notebook on Luke’s lap like the question needs clarification.

Luke nods even as he scrambles to shut the book, shuffling loose papers to stuff them between the creased cover. “Uh,” he stammers, biting his lip. “Yeah, I am.”

Reggie just nods back, averting his eyes to look up at the loft when he realizes that Luke doesn’t want him to see the song. “Rad. What's it called?” He glances at Luke, offering a comforting smile that says Luke can tell him as much or as little as he wants.

And well, that's the thing. Luke hasn't given it a name yet―the song, or the bewildering cocktail of feelings that inspired it to begin with. So he looks up from his scratchy handwriting to Reggie’s lopsided grin and says the first thing his useless brain can come up with. “Crooked Teeth.”

“Oh.” Reggie’s smile slides right off his face and Luke realizes what he's done half a second too late. Reggie bites his lip self-consciously, fidgeting with the sleeves of the flannel tied around his waist as Luke scrambles to backtrack into less sensitive territory.

“It's about Bobby,” he blurts unwittingly. And technically speaking, it is a little bit about Bobby, mostly because it's a little bit about the whole band, seeing as they’re mentioned in one line of the second chorus. But Bobby’s not the point of the song, not by a long shot. Luke decides Reggie doesn't need to know that, though. Especially not when his face lights up at the revelation, conspiratorial eyebrow raised like Luke’s letting him in on some great secret.

“Oh, snap! Well, I won't tell him, but don't let him find those lyrics.” Reggie winks, and it's not like it’s an unfamiliar sight, but Luke’s heart stutters out of time all the same. He's just glad Reggie isn’t the type to ask to see a song before Luke’s ready to share it; Luke doubts he'll ever be ready to share this particular piece, but if he does show it to Reggie, it'll be his choice.

He laughs halfheartedly, more a forceful exhale than anything else, and lands a playful punch to Reggie’s bicep. “Sure, man.”

Reggie just smiles wider. It feels like a kick straight to Luke’s solar plexus.

“You told him it’s about Bobby?” Alex asks, but what Luke hears is, you’re an idiot. Luke looks down at his best friend―he used to consider Reggie his best friend too, but he thinks maybe Reggie is in a category all his own at this point―and frowns. “He got his braces off before we even met him.” Alex stands up, walking around his drum kit to pace the floor. “And you told Reggie it’s called Crooked Teeth before you said that? Dude, you know how insecure he is about―”

“Yeah, Al, I know,” Luke huffs, cutting him off. It’s not the title Luke would've consciously chosen, but it's weirdly fitting, in a sort of convoluted way. Like, maybe Reggie’s teeth weren’t the sole catalyst for this whole...whatever this is, but they definitely played a major part. Luke’s really gonna miss Reggie’s snaggletooth, okay? He resents Reggie’s parents for a lot of reasons, but forcing him to get braces instead of a real birthday present is pretty damn high on the list.

Alex, with all his anxiety-induced powers of perception, notices Luke’s internal struggle and momentarily stops wearing a hole in the floor. “You’re kinda wiggin’ out, man. Chill.” He holds his hands out in what’s meant to be a placating gesture, but the drumsticks in his fists sort of ruin the effect.

“You’re one to talk,” Luke mumbles, but he doesn’t mean it, and Alex knows that. He’s just confused, and stressed, and generally unsure what to do with his recent epiphany. “What should I do?” he asks louder, eyes pleading.

Alex goes back to nervously lapping the room, and Luke picks at a loose string on his guitar strap just to have something to do. “I dunno,” Alex says after what could very well be an eternity. “But I think you’d feel better if you told him.”

Luke’s eyes shoot up to meet Alex’s gaze, brow furrowing involuntarily. “You what?”

Alex walks over, planting his feet in front of Luke, clapping a hand on Luke’s shoulder that isn’t holding his guitar strap up. “You’re clearly upset about this, Lucas. Tell him.”

Luke is shaking his head before Alex has even finished his sentence. “Not happening.” He folds his arms like a petulant child, but it loses its effectiveness when his guitar gets in the way, a sad thump echoing through the room. “I wouldn’t know what to say, anyway.”

Alex cocks an eyebrow with a pointed look at the notebook sitting on top of Luke’s amp. “I think you already said it.”

Luke follows his line of sight, eyes landing on the folded corner of a piece of paper sticking out from all the others. He already knows what’s written on it―has the words memorized by now. They were written on his heart long before he put them to the page, anyway.

Bobby bursts into the studio then, Reggie in tow, and the moment is broken. They’re laughing about something Bobby said, and Reggie is as beautiful as ever as he throws his head back, and Luke thinks that maybe one day he’ll get the courage to tell him how he feels. He’ll ask Alex to work with him on the music to go with his lyrics, maybe even get Bobby to help with the melody. He’ll throw rocks at Reggie’s window and serenade him from his front lawn like they do in the movies, and his friends will back him up, and it’ll be perfect.

For now, he needs to focus on perfecting the songs they already have. They’ve got a show at the Orpheum next summer to prepare for.

#posted this a week ago but i finally got around to putting it here too lmao #i still don't know if i like the formatting but whatever #anyway! i'm writing willex next <3 #jatp #julie and the phantoms #peterpatter #luke #reggie #alex #mine #fic

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if-found-return-to-gusu · 4 years ago

Text

Happy Birthday to Me Pt 7

Knowing it was pointless, I turned away to try and mop up my face. Save a little of my dignity at least.

“Maybe now the gift will be overkill if that’s his reaction to the cake,” someone… MianMian maybe? Whispered. It was hard to tell with my ears still plugged from my crying session still in progress.

It worked as a good distraction though! I’d already been given so much I couldn’t accept any more! “No! After all that no one is allowed to give me any gifts! As king I forbid it!” I cried.

And then Jin Ling, in his best and clearest 3 year old voice, chimed in.

“No! /I/ am king!” he declared. “Gift for uncle!”

To which SangSang responded with a hearty laugh before stating that Jin Ling was his favorite.

“But you guys!” I protested, but Jiang Cheng cut me off by shoving me back into my chair in front of the cake.

Everyone sat back down and stared at me.

I looked back at the cake. To the three figures on the pier. The tallest one was me. I could tell she’d spend the most time on that figure.

I poked it a couple of times, jealous for a moment that it got to live in the past that was forever lost to me, only to be scalded by the candles that were still burning down to the quick.

I know I was supposed to make a wish but that felt too greedy. What could I have the nerve to wish for after all that had been given to me?

I tried not to start crying again when DaGe suggested I blow out the candles. That was probably a good idea before I burned down the whole establishment or ruined Shijie’s masterpiece. It took me a couple of tries but I managed to get them all out.

Apparently I’d been watched closer than I thought because Qin Su noticed I hadn’t paused to make a wish.

“I already have everything I could ever ask for right now. How could I wish for more?”

I must have said something right because I got a lot of loving smiles instead of looks of admonishment for once.

In a clear attempt to keep me from conveniently forgetting about the present (MianMian said as much. I swear they’re all out to get me.), everyone decided to have me open it before they would cut the cake, which was sure to be as delicious as it was beautiful.

Jin Ling demanded he be the one to give the gift to me. Jin Zixuan held onto him to keep him steady as he leaned over to try to get the heavy gift while still on his dad’s lap.

A-Yuan, who is just such a good, sweet boy, asked if he could help when he saw Jin Ling struggling. A-Ling looked at him for a loooong moment before he finally nodded. Lan Zhan moved out of his chair so that A-Yuan could stand on it to reach the bag. Between the two of them they managed to nearly topple it in front of me, but due to my own lightning fast ninja reflexes I managed to catch it and them before they could crash into anything.

Through the bag I could feel…

“You guys bought me a book?” I asked. I mean I like reading but it’s an odd present. There wasn’t anything I was particularly craving to read and especially not something as thick as this felt.

Everyone just grinned and chattered at me excitedly. “Open your gift, Kid,” DaGe said, just as excited as everyone else.

Well I’m not gonna say no to DaGe. I opened the bag and pulled out what did indeed turn out to be a book. But not just a book.

“What…. Is this..?” I asked, even though the answer was more than obvious.

“Open it up, Idiot,” Jiang Cheng said, though I don’t think he’s ever spoken to me in a more gentle tone before. I still stuck my tongue out at him as is my noble duty as the elder brother.

I opened the cover carefully and was met with a picture of my parents. They were smiling at the camera with a little black-haired baby that could only be me held safely in their arms.

I’d seen this photo before at Gamby’s house but oh… I wasn’t able to process it fully then. I’m not sure I was able to process it fully now. I’ll have to go through the album again when I’m alone. I’m tired of crying in front of other people. I flipped through the pages. A timeline of my life.

In the beginning it showed me slowly getting bigger with my mom and dad and gamby. A few pictures featured other children I didn’t know. We seemed so happy.

And then, of course, all too soon in the timeline my parents were no longer featured.

A photo of Gamby with Aunty Yi smiled up at me between the last of the photos that had clearly been supplied by them and the next ones that showed the further progression of my life.

Of course there was a large gap in between the last photo with Gamby and the first with my siblings. A ten year old me grinned, holding up a large fish while Jiang Cheng pouted next to me with a much smaller catch. Shijie had insisted on the photo even though she hadn’t particularly liked fishing.

Another picture of the three of us playing on the pier. It must have been a reference photo for the cake because we were all dressed in the same clothing. There was even one Jiang Cheng must have taken once of Shijie brushing my hair for me after a bath.

I watched the three of us grow up, though through the following 8 years the pictures clearly grew more scarce.

Then another gap in time. Much more recent pictures now featured me with my new siblings. Wen Qing had insisted on a ‘family photo’ after I learned how to smile again. I hated for Lan Zhan to see me there. I hadn’t quite recovered and even I can tell I was way too thin. Still the Wen siblings were at my sides and A-Yuan was in my lap while Granny Wen stood happily behind us. Uncle Four had taken the photo. I can still see his doofy grins as he tried to get A-Yuan to smile. The best we managed was to get him to look mildly puzzled. Still adorable. It must have been from a birthday of past because there were Halloween decorations all over in the background.

Oh yes that’s right. I’d let it slip that it was my birthday and was soundly scolded for not telling them sooner. I remember.

There were more pictures of the Wens. Just us all being silly together. Wen Ning agreeing to drink with me for once. That time I planted A-Yuan in the mud. (Wen Qing scolded me soundly for that too and made me do laundry for a month straight.)

Oh yes. We caught that scolding on camera too. Wen Ning snickered the whole time it’s a miracle he was able to hold the camera steady at all.

Then came SangSang’s section. Selfies taken from our phone that we then sent to each other. Fake bar fights. Goofy smiles.

It’s so good to have someone that I can just be silly with. Thank you for giving me that, Huaisang. I know I give you a lot of crap. You helped me out of a dark place by becoming my friend. I can’t thank you enough for that.

Just like Gamby and Aunty Yi’s section, the Nie section ended with a selfie taken of DaGe and SangSang. They’d taped a little note next to it in what must have been DaGe’s handwriting promising that I’d get to know him soon enough.

When I mentioned how threatening that sounded, DaGe grinned at me and told me to blame Huaisang for that one. “He’s the one who wanted that written.”

I think SangSang stomped on his brother’s foot but it’s hard to tell because DaGe didn’t even flinch.

I laughed a little and kept going.

Lan Zhan.

Of course the picture he would have first would be of the bunnies.

I say first picture.

I mean first couple pages of pictures.

All bunnies. So. Many. Bunnies.

I couldn’t help but coo at Suibian though. I know you’re not supposed to have favorites, but she’s my favorite. I can’t help it. She's so cuuuuuuuuuuute.

Eventually I made it through the sea of bunbuns and found people again!

Qin Su and MianMian were pressing their cheeks against mine in a dark room. The theater!

Oh I never told you guys about the theater!! I’ll give you a short rundown

So Lan Zhan had gone out with Nie Huaisang I think and I was apparently moping. So the girls decided that it was time we all went out as friends. We had to wait until closing time so we couldn’t go out until it was rather late. Qin Su had leaned on the counter in front of me and slid her phone over for me to look at. She’d pulled up the showtimes for the theater nearby and told me to pick one.

I must have looked as confused as I felt because MianMian had told me we were going out for drinks and a movie after work and told me again to pick one.

“Newbie’s choice,” they’d insisted in sync when I tried to tell them anything was fine. In the end we went with the sappiest looking romantic comedy we could find. (It was the off season so there really weren’t any winners. May as well go for broke right?).

We grabbed a couple of drinks at the bar while we waited for the time and had a wonderful time getting to know each other. MianMian had told me her actual name again but I still can’t for the life of me ever remember it. Sorry MianMian. I told her she could call me Yuandao to make it even. She looked confused until Qin Su snorted with laughter. She got it then and looked positively aghast.

“Who yearns for you??

“I am HAPPILY married I’ll have you know!” she said indignantly while firmly grasping Qin Su’s hand. Qin Su just kept laughing.

After that we spent a grand time watching what turned out to be a gloriously shitty movie while snickering and snarking to each other in careful whispers so as not to disturb the 4 other people in the theater.

We’d taken a selfie on the way out to commemorate the evening and the formation of new friendships. <3

After that, to my delighted horror, was pictures of Lan Zhan and myself on our spa day. I’m amazed he was willing to show those to others. He even included the one of us with those ridiculous face masks!

“I can’t believe you had them printed!”

“There were no other pictures,” Lan Zhan pointed out.

Fuck! He was right! I told him we’d have to fix that by spending at least an hour in the photo booth. Lan Zhan looked like he wanted to say something but Jiang Cheng interrupted by telling me to keep going.

There were a couple of pictures of Qin Su and MianMian looking adorable together.

And then.

A picture of Xichen smiling at the camera followed by a picture of Lan Zhan staring stoically ahead as he played his guqin. Well not stoic so much as completely absorbed by the music he was playing. It was in a room I didn’t recognize. He looked a bit younger though unfortunately it didn’t have long hair in it so it couldn’t have been from THAT long ago.

He looked quietly peaceful.

I nearly traced his face with my finger but caught myself before my hand actually made contact. I covered the movement by turning the page instead. I hope my face wasn’t as red as it felt.

There wasn’t really anything after that. Just a few empty pages so I could keep adding new photos - something I will absolutely do. I started to close the book but SangSang stopped me. He told me to keep going.

Why? Was there a secret message at the end?

Turns out rather than a secret message, there was an envelope taped to the inside of the back cover.

Oh fuck I’m still sick just thinking about it.

It was full of checks. Like the money kind! Lots of them!

And Cash on top of it!

I pulled out the first one and screamed (which I still feel bad for because poor little A-Lian started to cry because I startled her). I didn’t mean to but FUCK!

“$3,000????? Huaisang are you f--CRAZY????”

I managed to remember just in time that there were, in fact, children present and stopped myself from exploding in expletives.

He said it was also half from DaGe. As if that made it better.

“Great. Then you’re BOTH crazy! Who gives $3000 as a birthday gift????????”

The golden peacock decided to chirp then and told me to keep counting because there was more.

I nearly passed out then. More. MORE???

Yes more!

$7.5K more!

I’m pretty sure my voice reached decibels no human could hear

“You’re all crazy! I’m NOT keeping this!” I said. How could I possibly? That’s WAY WAY TOO MUCH.

Ghosty I’m sorry I ever said you were extra after going through this my eyes have been opened to the true meaning of excess. (NO this is NOT an offer to give me more money!!!!!!!!!!)

“Yes you will,” Jiang Cheng said with the most punchable smirk I’d ever seen. “Accept it now with grace or you’ll see it in your bank account tomorrow anyway.”

“You wouldn’t!” I said. He wouldn’t even know how.

“Oh yes I would. It’s as easy to get into your bank account as it is to get into your bl--”

For the second time in an evening I felt my palm getting viciously licked as I slapped my hand over Jiang Cheng’s mouth to keep him from fucking talking.

We do NOT need people at that party

Asking about this blog.

Fuck you JC.

And SangSang, don’t you DARE tell people either!

Let me save SOME face. I don’t know if I’d be able to face anyone again if they read this shit other than you two assholes.

Rather than risk another slip of the tongue I thanked everyone kindly for their contributions.

“You really really didn’t have to though! My boss is very generous and pays me quite well!”

I winked at Lan Zhan for fun.

But I promised to cherish that photo album forever. And I will. I held it to my heart and tried not to cry againnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn.

#wei ying #wei wuxian #mo dao zu shi #mdzs #cql #the untamed #Long Post #(Modern AU!)

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mxliv-oftheendless · 5 years ago

Text

Let’s Fall in Love

Now I know what you’re all thinking: “But Livvie, you’re always so vocal about your opinion of Valentine’s Day and its inherent capitalism and societal pressure to be in a relationship and general stupidity! Why have you written a story for it?” Well, turns out when you have a soul, you can’t not get caught up in the romantic spirit somehow *shrugs*. This is by far the lamest, sappiest thing I have ever written in my entire life. It took me a while to finish writing because I did my French homework beforehand and my brain got fried (side note: learning a foreign language is exhausting). But I got it done, so yay me!

I’ve also written this because IT’S @cosmicrealmofkissteria ‘s BIRTHDAY! And since she wrote an epic story as a present for me, it’s only fair I do the same. Hope you enjoy, Shandi, and happy birthday!

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

The camera opens on Gene, who smiles and waves. “Hey there. If you’re watching this, this is the first video I’m making for my new flash drive, because I used up all the storage on my last one.”

From beyond the camera comes Paul’s voice calling, “Again!”

“Shut up, Paul. Anyway, you know the drill…”

“Who are you even talking to?” Paul’s voice comes again. Gene rolls his eyes and turns the camera around to Paul, who is sitting in a chair with his legs over the armrest and his laptop in his lap. “You keep saying you’re recording these for posterity, but… are you just talking to yourself and lying about it?”

“Shut up, Paul.”

“I’m just saying, man. I mean, I know why you do this. But from an outsider’s perspective, it’s kind of weird.”

“And from an outsider’s perspective, your obsession with stars is weird.”

Paul is silent for a moment, then nods. “Fair.”

He turns back to his laptop and Gene turns the camera back around. “Anyway, as I was saying. You know the drill. I’m Gene, I’m a co-owner of the awesome wine bar known as Cellar 82. I’m 33, and I am still single. But, oddly,” Gene shrugs, “I haven’t spent a lot of time thinking about how sucky that is. I guess FRIENDS was wrong about that.”

“FRIENDS was wrong about a lot of stuff,” Paul’s voice comes again. “They tried to make us think Ross wasn’t a total loser.”

Gene nods. “That is true. Anyway, yeah. Still single. I’ve been on some blind dates with people my friends keep telling me are “just perfect for me!” but… nothing’s worked out. And that’s fine.

“Let’s see, what else… Paul finally got me to watch a bootleg of Phantom of the Opera.”

“It’s amazing, right?”

Gene shrugs, but is smirking slightly “Eh. The book was better.”

“… I know you’re trolling me, but I’m prepared to fight you on that.”

Gene laughs. “Yeah, yeah, I know. Seriously though, it was pretty good. At least it explains why Paul keeps dramatically reenacting it in the shower.” He looks to the side and laughs. “Paul just gave me the bird.

“Anyway… that’s all I can think of to say right now. So that does it for this video. Bye for now!” He waves. The camera screen goes black.

The camera opens on Gene, who is smiling. “So get this: I met someone last night. I probably sound like a teenage girl, but it’s pretty exciting. His name’s Vinnie, he’s got long hair down to about here,” he gestures to just below his shoulders, “and green eyes. But… and don’t tell Paul I said this… they’re really nice-looking green eyes. And it gets even better: he’s an Egyptologist. I never thought I’d meet one in real life. He’s in the graduate program at the university. He was at the wine bar with his friends because he apparently just got back from a research trip to Egypt and they dragged him out to celebrate. You’d never tell he was in Egypt, though; he’s kind of pale. But a pretty kind of pale.

“We got to talking because he heard the rock music playing and asked if it was Deep Purple. I didn’t even think he would know who they were, but he did. He knows a lot of rock bands. We could have talked about it more, but he went off to be with his friends.”

Gene rubs the back of his neck. “Is it weird that I kind of want to see him again? I’ll cop to it; he’s not the type I would normally go for. But I liked talking to him. He has a nice laugh, too. I told him he and his friends could come back anytime, and he said he thought it was a nice place so they might. I hope he comes back…”

The camera opens on Gene again, who is lying on his stomach looking sadly at the camera. “It’s been two weeks now, and Vinnie hasn’t come back. And I haven’t seen him around, either. In other news, another blind date. This one was set up by Eric with one of his fellow librarians. She was nice enough… but the date was really awkward. I don’t think it’s gonna go anywhere… as usual.”

Gene sighs and runs his hand through his hair. “I dunno what’s wrong with me, but I can’t stop thinking about him. Vinnie, I mean. Do you think he liked me? People say I’m kind of unapproachable… but he didn’t seem to mind, or have any problem talking to me. I just want to see him again, and maybe then I can finally work up the balls to ask him out.

“But then there’s… well, this, to think about. What if, if I ever see him again, it goes somewhere, and I show him I do this, and he gets weirded out by it? It’s not like what Paul said before is a lie—people who don’t know what this is to me think this is weird. But maybe… maybe I can cross that bridge when I get there—if I even get there at all. I haven’t even seen him again yet.

“Well… here’s hoping I see him again. Anyway, as for the rest of my life…” He shrugs. “Same old shit. Bar’s still getting good reviews… but it’s had good reviews since we opened, so that’s not new. No new episodes from Buzzfeed Unsolved yet. Rick and Morty… still a wild show. It’s gotten even wilder if possible. But I can make a separate video about that. And, uh… that’s pretty much it. So I guess I’ll sign off for the night. This is Gene Simmons, signing off.”

The camera opens on Gene, who looks giddy. “You’ll never guess what happened: scientists proved ghosts are real.

“No, I’m just kidding. I wish, but anyway… Vinnie came back! Turns out he and his friends do a tri-weekly Guys Night Out, and they’re really serious about it. They would even FaceTime Vinnie while he was in Egypt. They liked the wine bar so much they decided to come back for their next one.

“So I got to talk to Vinnie again—he remembered my name, can you believe that?—and like I said I would, I worked up the guts to ask him out. And he said yes! I’m gonna pick him up from his loft—he and his friends live together—and take him out to this coffee place down the block from the wine bar.” Gene holds up crossed fingers. “Here’s hoping it goes well.”

We see Gene, who is lying on his stomach and looking happily at the camera. “So I just got back from my date with Vinnie. I suppose you’re wondering how it went, huh? Well…” He slowly bows his head…

… then looks back up at the camera with a big smile. “It went really well! We talked about our favorite bands, and Vinnie’s job… you should’ve seen his face when he was talking about Egypt. He was so into it. Then he asked me how the wine bar got started, so I told him about how Paul and I decided to open it together. He thought it was really cool how we know so much about different wines.

“Actually, we were there for a pretty long time. I was hoping it would last an hour, at most. But as we’re getting up to leave, I look at my watch, and it’s been three hours! I’ve never had a date last that long, or one that seemed to go by that fast. We made plans to meet for dinner next week.” Gene checks his watch. “I should probably sign off for now. I told Tommy I’d take over his morning shift tomorrow.” He flashes the camera another smile. “Today’s been a good day. Can’t wait to see Vinnie again.”

Music is playing in the background. The camera has opened on Paul, who gives a smile and a peace sign. “Hey there, posterity. It’s me, ya boi. Check this out.”

He turns the camera around to reveal Gene moving around the kitchen area. Paul zooms the camera in on him. He looks to be in a very good mood as he pours cereal into a bowl, nodding his head along to the music. The camera turns back to Paul, who gives the camera a lost look and shrug. “He’s been like this all morning. He’s only had one cup of coffee so far. Oh, and you probably can’t hear it on the recording, but he’s humming. Actually humming along to the music. I’ve narrowed down the possibilities of what could’ve happened to him to two: either Trump’s been assassinated, or his date last night with Vinnie went really well. And since Trump’s unfortunately still alive and well, then that means it was his date with Vinnie. I just—” Paul stops and looks up. His eyes widen as a voice can be made out. “Oh my God…”

He turns the camera around and zooms in on Gene again. We can now hear Gene singing along to the music. “—fall in love/Our hearts are made of it/Let’s take a chance/Why be afraid of it…”

The camera turns back around to a shocked Paul. “He’s singing along now!” he whispers. “Oh my God… I’m so glad I decided to make a recording of this. This is a historic moment, people!”

“Paul, what are you doing?” Gene’s voice suddenly says, making Paul look up at him. “Is that Shannon? Paul, what are you doing with Shannon?”

“I’m documenting history, Gene. Also, I still say you could give your camera a better name than ‘Shannon’. Peter’s cats have better names than that.”

“Fuck you, Shannon’s a great name.”

“You could’ve named her Diane. Then at least more people would get the Twin Peaks reference.” Paul watches Gene for a moment, then sighs and turns back to the camera. “And he just flipped me off. Well, looks like the moment’s gone. But at least you got to see it for yourselves.” He glances up at Gene. “I should probably give Shannon back to him now before he tries to snatch it. So I guess bye for now, posterity!” He blows a kiss at the camera and turns it off.

Gene is sitting on his bed, leaning back against the headboard. He has a nervous look on his face. “Hey there. So, um… I did something kind of impulsive today, and… everything was fine, but…” he sighs and runs his hand over his face. “I don’t know. I guess I should give some background first.

“So as you probably know, I’ve been dating Vinnie for nearly three months now. Given how he’s a part-time research assistant and working his way through grad school, that probably isn’t that impressive. He keeps apologizing for having to decline going out together, but it’s fine, I get it. Tommy and Ace were like that when Ace was working on his astronomy PhD. So I get it. But the thing is… Vinnie actually works to make time for going out with me. Like, he’ll message me things like…” The camera shakes as Gene fumbles for his phone and opens it. “Like this: I can ask Lita if I can leave early on Thursday. It’ll be short notice, but she probably won’t mind. And I just…” Gene runs a hand through his hair. “No one I’ve ever had a long-term relationship with has ever done that for me before. They would always say things like, Oh, sorry, I can’t, I have Such-n-Such at seven. I remember my high school girlfriend said one time that she couldn’t go out because she had StuGo till five. And I said, ‘well, how about afterwards?’ And she got all snippy and said ‘no, cuz I have to do my homework when I get home.’ Actually she was also the one that dumped me for that blond fuck Vince… Anyway, point is, no girlfriend or boyfriend I’ve ever had has ever done that. It was either they could or they couldn’t. Except Vinnie…

“But I digress. Anyway, Vinnie and I’ve been dating for almost three months, and whenever I do see him…” Gene sighs and smiles a little. “It’s great. We haven’t just gone out to restaurants; we’ve gone to the movies, I went over to his and his friends’ loft once and he comes over here…” Gene smirks a bit. “I’m happy to report I still got it in the boudoir. His friends seem to like me, and Paul likes Vinnie. It’s been… pretty amazing. I really like him. He’s really smart, even if he knows next to nothing about horror movies, he’s got good music tastes, he’s funny, his laugh is… like music to my ears, and he’s incredibly attractive. Actually, he’s sort of insecure about how he looks—can you believe that? I don’t give a damn that he looks kind of feminine, he’s beautiful. And whenever I’m with him, I just think, how can someone this amazing exist? And want to spend his time with me? I just… fuck, am I digressing again? Sorry.

“Anyways, to get back to what I started this with… I told him about this. About Shannon and my video diaries. I didn’t tell him why, because… well, I kinda chickened out of that. He was curious about it—apparently, he’s never met someone who makes video diaries. So I told him about when I first got started making them, and went on from there. And the whole time he never looked put off or weirded out by it—he just looked really interested. And I guess that’s what made me say what I asked next: I asked if he wanted to be in one.”

Gene presses his mouth into a line. “Yeah… I didn’t realize what I said until after I said it. He just stared at me for a second, I think I took him by surprise. I was sure he was going to say no. But then… then he said sure, if I felt okay about him being in it. He’s coming over tomorrow.

“I definitely feel like I should be more excited than I actually am. This… well, you know how much this stuff means to me. I’ve never shared this with any of the other people I’ve dated. This is my own personal thing. But Vinnie… it just sort of slipped out. Does that mean something?”

Gene sighs and runs his hand through his hair again. “God, what am I doing… I’m psyching myself out again. It’s probably not going to be as bad as I’m worrying it’ll be. He didn’t seem to judge me when I was telling him about it, so he probably won’t judge me tomorrow. He’s not like that; he’s better than that.” Gene slowly smiles. “Yeah… Yeah, I think it’ll be fine. Paul’s gonna be home tomorrow too, and he gets it. Yeah, it’ll all be fine.

“Well, I guess I’ll sign off for now and go to bed. Stay tuned tomorrow for when you finally meet this Vinnie I’ve told you so much about.”

The camera opens on a black shirt, then rustles and is lifted up. Vinnie is sitting on the couch, looking at the camera. “Is this fine?” he asks.

“It’s perfect,” Gene replies from behind the camera.

“Okay… So, what should I do?”

“How about… your name, your age, your job, your favorite band, and one fun fact about yourself.”

Vinnie laughs. “Okay.” He smiles and waves at the camera. “Hi! I’m Vinnie, I’m 30, I’m an Egyptologist and work as a research assistant, my favorite band is…” he laughs nervously, “I don’t know, there are so many good ones…”

“You don’t have to say one if you can’t think of one,”

“Okay. I have a lot of favorite bands. And a fun fact about me is…”

“You’re short,”

Vinnie scoffs at Gene. “Well, we can’t all be over six feet tall. Here’s a fun fact about me: I like Star Trek more than Star Wars.”

“Take that back,”

Vinnie smirks at him. “Why don’t you make me?”

“You’re kidding, I know you’re kidding,”

Vinnie laughs. “Okay, okay, I’m kidding. A true fun fact about me is… I’ve seen every season of Keeping Up With the Kardashians.” The scene is quiet. He looks at Gene behind the camera. “I’m serious.”

“… You’re actually serious?” The camera zooms in on Vinnie’s face. “You need to explain. Now. Because I’m sorry, but if you’re a fan of the Kardashians I may have to question our relationships.”

Vinnie laughs. “Don’t worry, Genie, I’m not a fan of the Kardashians. Never in a million years.”

“Thank God. But you still have to explain.”

“Okay, fine. What happened was, Mark and I had a bet where the loser had to binge watch all the seasons of Keeping Up With the Kardashians, and I lost. I spent the next two and a half weeks watching every episode whenever I had free time, and they’re two and a half weeks of my life I’ll never get back.”

“How was it?”

“If you think watching their drama every week is bad enough, try watching all of their drama at once.”

Gene winces. “That sounds horrible,”

Vinnie nods. “Like I said, two and a half weeks of my life I’ll never get back.”

“Ugh, did I just hear Keeping Up With the Kardashians?” Paul’s disgusted-sounding voice comes from in the background. “I’m sorry, but if you’re gonna be talking about that crap, you’re gonna have to leave.”

“Shut up, Paul,” Gene replies. “He’s not a fan.”

“I had a bet with Mark and lost, and so had to binge watch the whole show,” Vinnie explains.

“And?”

“Absolutely hated it,”

Paul’s voice sounds satisfied. “Good. Gene, you better not lose this one; he’s a keeper.”

Vinnie laughs, while Gene’s voice is embarrassed. “Don’t you have a Phantom of the Opera number to reenact?”

“It’s fine,” Vinnie laughs. “I don’t mind.”

“You say that now, but after you spend some more time around him, that may change,”

Vinnie shrugs. “I doubt it; I do live with Mark and Dana, after all.” He gives Gene a cheeky smile. “Am I a keeper, Genie?”

“Welllll…” the camera zooms in on Vinnie’s face, while he tries not to laugh. Then it zooms back out again. “Yeah. You’re a keeper, alright.”

Vinnie smiles. “Thank you. So are you.” The camera feed is silent for a beat. “So… should I say goodbye, or…”

“Oh! Oh yeah, uh, yeah, you should.”

“Okay.” Vinnie grins at the camera and waves. “Well, it was nice to meet Shannon. She’s a very nice lady, very efficient. Once again, I’m Vinnie. Bye!”

The camera opens on Gene. He is lying on his stomach on his bed, and gazes sadly at the camera. “Hi. It’s Gene. And… my life’s been a mess the past few days. Vinnie and I… well, we’re not talking. We haven’t even texted, except for…” Gene’s eyes blink rapidly, “for just now. Um, I should probably start at the beginning, huh?

“So, Vinnie’s video diary was about a month ago. And since then we got… more serious. He was—been—fuck, I don’t fucking know grammar anymore, my life’s such a mess. He’s been coming over a lot more. We made dinner together once. We watched movies, and… all that. It was great. And after he seemed to be totally fine with me making video diaries, I started making more videos with him in it. And at first it was fine—he just laughed and went along with it. But after a while…” Gene sighs and runs a hand over his face. “Fuck, I didn’t even realize this until I thought back… After a while, he started getting… less fine with it. I think—no, he was definitely more annoyed than he let on. But I never noticed; I was just so happy that he didn’t think I was weird for doing it. I-I should’ve paid more attention…

“Um, anyway, that brings me to… to a few days ago. Vinnie came over to watch… what was it? It was… I don’t even remember. Not that it matters. He came over to watch a movie, and I… he looked so handsome and I couldn’t help myself and… and pulled out Shannon while he was making popcorn. When he saw Shannon, he sighed heavily, like a really frustrated sigh, and asked if I could turn it off. And that’s what got my attention: he’s always been careful to call Shannon “her”, and this time he called her “it.” So I was kind of caught off guard, so I turned her off and asked what was wrong. And… it took him a few seconds to answer, but… he really didn’t have to in the end. He was trying to give me an excuse other than the truth.

“He… He asked me why I’m always pulling Shannon out and making videos, even when I don’t have to. I told him it was for posterity, like I usually do. But that… that, um, wasn’t enough for him. He said I should try to spend time away from making video diaries for a while, and unplug. That’s the word he used: unplug. And…” he sighs heavily. “Does it even matter what I said to that? It doesn’t seem like it matters much now; the ending’s still the same. I got kind of put off by what he was saying, he got more annoyed at me, which got me more frustrated at him, and… well, one thing led to another, and… and eventually we were just shouting at each other. We were yelling back and forth, and—and throwing insults at each other… until finally he just stormed out.

“And… And that’s it. I haven’t talked to him since. Haven’t gone to try and see him when he’s working, haven’t called him… I only worked up the balls to text him an apology a few hours ago.” He laughs humorlessly. “Can you believe that? I apologized over text instead of in person… how pathetic is that? No wonder he took two hours to respond… I was sure he wouldn’t even respond at all, even though at the same time I was checking my phone every five minutes. Then when he did respond, all he said was…” Gene swallows roughly. “It just said, I don’t want to talk right now. That’s it. Nothing else.”

Gene sighs and runs his hand across his face and through his hair. “I can’t believe it. Four months of everything going amazing and I fucked it all up because I’m too emotionally attached to my camera. Fuck, I wonder what Dr. Aucoin would say if he could see me right now… this probably wasn’t what he was thinking of when he suggested I start making these. I took it too far… This is my fault. I can’t believe Vinnie didn’t get annoyed sooner. He’s too patient…” Gene gives a wet laugh. “Goddammit, Vinnie’s amazing. He’s a treasure. I don’t care about all the stuff about him I get bothered with. I don’t care that he’s such a perfectionist. He’s too good for me… He has been from the moment I met him. And now he might want to break up with me over this… and he would be totally justified in wanting that.

“Well, you heard it right here. Once again I manage to fuck up everything, only this time I managed to fuck up the best thing that’s ever happened to me in years… maybe my entire life. I, um, don’t know when the next time I make one of these will be. It might actually be never this time. So, if this really is my last video diary…” he shrugs sadly. “I’m sorry. I wish I could end things on a lighter note, but… guess I can’t. So…” he waves despondently at the camera. “Possibly for the last time ever… this is Gene Simmons, signing off.”

The screen goes black.

The camera opens on Vinnie, who is staring sadly at it. He looks like he’s been crying. “Hi, it’s… it’s Vinnie. Um… you probably know what’s been happening… and it’s my fault. I could never understand why Gene’s always making these video diaries, always documenting everything… but now I know. Paul gave me all the flash drives, all the videos he’s ever made, and I watched them all. I…” He sniffs and wipes his eyes. “I feel so horrible. This is all my fault. I… I had no idea. I’m so sorry… I-I wish I could tell him how sorry I am. But I’m… I’m scared. What if he doesn’t forgive me? If I were him, I wouldn’t forgive me. But I want him to forgive me. At the very least I want him to know how sorry I am, and how ashamed of myself I am. Gene is… he’s the most amazing person I’ve ever met. He’s sweet, he’s funny, and he makes me…” Vinnie is getting closer to tears now “he makes me so happy. I… I think I—”

“Vinnie?” Gene’s voice is suddenly heard from off-camera. Vinnie jumps and whirls his head around to the side. “What are you doing?”

“I-I… I…”

Vinnie quickly fumbles with the camera, and the screen goes black.

The camera screen shakes for a couple seconds, until it is raised and focused on Gene. He’s lying in bed on his side, shirtless, and smiles. He speaks quietly. “Hey there. So, turns out that wasn’t my last video after all. Which… thank God. I missed getting my thoughts out to a cold, unfeeling camera lens.” He smiles wider and chuckles. “Not that Shannon’s cold and unfeeling. She’s a good listener. Which reminds me…”

Gene sits up and fumbles with the camera. He turns it around and aims it at his bed. Lying in bed asleep, also shirtless, is Vinnie. His body is turned towards Gene’s side of the bed. Gene keeps the camera on him for a couple seconds, then turns it back around to himself, smiling. “Yep. We talked, we talked a lot actually, but we talked everything out, told each other we were sorry and then that we forgave each other, and then…” He trails off and grins. “Well, I’m sure you can connect the dots yourself.

“It’s actually kind of funny how it started. Apparently, Paul got tired of seeing me moping for the past week and a half, and decided to, without telling me, tell Vinnie why exactly I make my video diaries. So he got all my flash drives together—and I mean every single one—he even made a copy of the videos on my current flash drive—went over to Vinnie’s loft, and gave them to him, telling him to watch them all. And… And he did. He was over here at our place because he was returning the flash drives, and while he was in my room he saw Shannon. And that’s when I walked in on him talking to Shannon and looking like he was going to cry. He, uh, he actually did cry. And then… we talked. He said he was sorry for everything he said, and for not realizing what these mean to me, and I said I’m sorry for how much I was aiming Shannon at his face.” Gene shrugs sheepishly, smiling. “I mean, I still feel bad, but can you blame me? He’s got a pretty face.”

A hand suddenly passes up his chest to wrap around his shoulders and the top of Vinnie’s head appears. His smile widens and he looks down. “Good morning to you.” He leans down to kiss the top of Vinnie’s head.

“Morning…” Vinnie sits up to lean his head on Gene’s shoulder and rubs his eyes. “Mmm… I woke up and you were talking to yourself…” He sees the camera, and smiles. “Oh.” He rests his head on Gene’s shoulder. “Good morning, Shannon. And… what’s the word you used?”

“Posterity?”

“That’s it. Good morning, posterity.” He smirks a bit. “It’s me, ya boi.”

Gene groans and rolls his eyes. “You got that from Paul, didn’t you?”

“It’s what he uses whenever he makes an appearance… I know he does it to annoy you, but I thought it was kind of funny.”

Gene smiles a bit. “It’s less annoying coming from you… You have a way with words.”

Vinnie looks up at him and smiles. “Well, thank you.” He leans up to kiss Gene’s cheek. Gene turns his head and kisses him full on the lips.

When they pull away Gene speaks. “I just thought of something,”

Vinnie puts his head back on Gene’s shoulder. “Mmm hmm?”

“You apologized to me… but you never apologized to Shannon.”

“I…” Vinnie looks up at him blankly. “What?”

Gene nods his head at the camera. “Shannon. You never apologized to Shannon. You called her an it, Vinnie. She’s had a pretty hard time coming back from that, especially after how you were so nice to her before.”

Vinnie glances at the camera. He’s smiling slightly, but there’s also some guilt on his face. “I did do that…”

“Yeah. Plus you didn’t even thank her for letting you record yourself yesterday.” Gene says all of this in a very serious voice. “So? Does she not deserve an apology?”

“Yes, she does.” Vinnie turns to look apologetically at the camera. “I’m sorry I called you an it, Shannon. I was annoyed at how much I saw you; that was rude and wrong of me. And thank you for letting me record myself yesterday.” He looks up at Gene. “Does she accept my apology?”

Gene leans in off to the side to look at the camera, then leans back smiling. “She forgives you,”

Vinnie smiles happily. “Thank you, Shannon. You’re a special lady. Also,” his smile turns suggestive as he glances up at Gene, “I had no idea your user was that good. Last night was fucking amazing.”

Gene’s smile widens. “I should be surprised at hearing you swear… but I heard enough of that last night.”

Laughing, Vinnie waggles his eyebrows at the camera. “What can I say? I forgot my manners.”

“Also, I’m not sure if I ever mentioned this before, but Vinnie has an ankh tattoo.”

“Mmm hmm,” Vinnie nods proudly. “I got it in Alexandria. It’s about as big as my hand, and it’s black, but I regret nothing.”

“Wanna show them where it is?”

Vinnie laughs. “No thanks.” He winks at the camera. “Sorry, but only Gene will ever know that.” He sits up a bit and smiles suggestively at Gene. “Want to see it again?”

Gene grins back. “I’d love to. Just gimme a sec.” He fumbles with the camera and turns it off.

When the camera is turned on, with Paul holding it, we see the interior of Cellar 82. It is crowded with people, and voices and music fill the background. “Hey, posterity,” Paul says, raising his voice so he can be heard. “It’s me, ya boi. I’m borrowing Shannon, but Gene probably won’t mind.” He turns the camera away from him and moves it to pan around the room. “So as you can see, we’ve got a full house here in Cellar 82 tonight. Why, you ask? Well…”

He moves the camera and zooms it in on Tommy and Ace, who are dancing together in the middle of a makeshift dance floor. He zooms out and turns the camera back to himself. “Ace finally proposed to Tommy. They took things seriously slow while he was working on his PhD, moved in together after he got it, and to celebrate being ten years sober, Ace finally decided to pop the question. About fuckin’ time, if you ask me.

“But while Ace and Tommy are great together, they’re not why I’m borrowing Shannon.” Paul grins wickedly at the camera. “Gimme a few seconds, and I’ll show you the real reason why.”

He turns the camera away from him and starts to move through the crowd of people. Eventually he comes to a corner that is a bit more private, and zooms in on the people sitting at the table. It is Gene and Vinnie; Vinnie is in Gene’s lap and they’re in the middle of making out. The camera turns back around to a smirking Paul. “Yep, that’s why. Gene sometimes forgets personal space is a thing when he’s had enough to drink, and you didn’t hear it from me but apparently Vinnie gets a little loose when he’s had enough wine. And when you put ‘em together… you get this.” He turns the camera back to the couple, who are still making out. “Hey, lovebirds!”

At his shout, Gene’s eyes turn in his direction, then widen. He turns his head fully around. “Paul, what the hell are you doing?” he shouts. Meanwhile Vinnie looks up, sees the camera, and hides his face in Gene’s shoulder.

“Smile, you’ve been recorded for posterity!” Paul replies gaily.

Gene gently pushes Vinnie, who nods and gets off his lap. As soon as he is off, Gene bolts to his feet and starts to advance on Paul. “I’m gonna kill you, Paul!”

“But Gene, I’ve got Shannon! You wouldn’t hurt our lovely gal Shannon, would you?”

“Shannon? Never. You? You better fucking run.”

The camera shakes violently as Paul turns and runs, laughing.

Gene is sitting at the kitchen table, wearing a red button-up shirt and a black blazer. “Hi. I’m about to head out to go pick up Vinnie and take him out to dinner. We’ve officially been together for one year… which I know because I have the day marked in my calendar. So I decided to take him out to a nice place. He doesn’t even know what’s going to happen; all I told him was to dress nice.”

Gene runs his hand over his hair. “I’m also planning on doing something else today. I’ve thought about it for a long time now, I think ever since we made up after that argument we had… and I’m pretty sure of it now. I’m in love with Vinnie. And after we come back here from dinner, I’m going to tell him.

“Y’know what’s funny? When I first thought that I might be in love… I would’ve been less scared if Jason Vorhees burst through my window. Because I’ve never been in love before. I love Paul, but not like that—never in a thousand years like that. And for all my other past relationships, I thought in the moment it was love, but then when it was over I realized it was just a really strong attraction. But this… I’ve thought about it for months, and I know it’s actually love.

“I’m gonna tell him tonight. Despite worrying that he doesn’t love me back, I’m still gonna do it. I just wanted to get my thoughts out before I left. Which,” Gene glances up at the clock, “I should probably leave now.” He smiles hopefully and holds up crossed fingers. “Wish me luck!”

The camera is aimed at the bed, then shakes as it is lifted up and turned around to reveal Vinnie. He smiles. “Hi,” he says quietly. “I woke up first and decided to borrow Shannon for a second. I’ll be quick; I just wanted to say something. But first…”

He turns the camera around and aims it at Gene, who is lying in bed on his side, still asleep. “I could get used to waking up to this,” Vinnie’s voice is soft and affectionate. He turns the camera back around. “I’m sure Genie’s already said something about it, but last night marked us being boyfriends for a year. Gene took me out to a nice dinner, then we came back here. And then…” Vinnie turns from the camera to look down at Gene, then smiles and turns back. “Gene said he loved me.” He laughs. “I still can’t believe it. He’s really in love with me.

“I didn’t say it then, because… well, I wasn’t sure enough of myself to feel confident enough to say it. But I am now. I love him too. And I’m going to tell him right now.”

And with that, he turns off the camera.

When the camera turns on, Gene’s shirt is the only thing in frame. He adjusts something, then moves backward to sit next to Vinnie. They are surrounded by stacks of boxes. Gene smiles and waves, while Vinnie follows suit. “If you’re watching this, this is the first video being recorded in our new apartment.”

Vinnie grins happily. “We moved in together!”

“We’ve been together for two years now, almost three, and we decided we were tired of not seeing more of each other.” Gene grins at the camera. “So, now we’ll be seeing each other all the time.” He turns to Vinnie. “Seriously though, I should probably take the time to apologize in advance.”

“For what?”

“Y’know… anything I do that bothers you or makes you uncomfortable. Paul told me one time that I snore.”

“Well, I’ve slept right next to you hundreds of times, and you’ve never snored.”

“You’re kind of a deep sleeper, though,”

“I guess that’s fair,”

“But anyway… sorry in advance.”

Vinnie smiles and shakes his head at him. “Okay. I forgive you in advance. I guess I should say sorry in advance for anything I do that bothers you.”

Gene smiles back. “I forgive you in advance.” He kisses Vinnie. The kiss slowly becomes deeper, until Vinnie falls back onto the floor with Gene on top of him.

“Mmph… Gene, the camera.”

“Right.” Gene gets up and moves to turn it off.

The camera turns on, and we see the interior of Cellar 82. The camera is pointed at Gene and Vinnie, who are sitting at a table.

“I’m sorry, I know I probably shouldn’t talk,” Paul’s quiet voice comes from behind the camera, “but I’m too excited! Today marks Gene and Vinnie being together for four years, and tonight’s the night Gene decided to do something very special.”

After a few moments, Paul gasps and zooms in on Gene’s hand as it reaches into his pants pocket and pulls out a small black box. Gene seems to grip it tightly for a second. The camera zooms out to have both men in frame as Gene speaks. The words are inaudible on the recording. Then Gene opens the box, places it on the table, and pushes it towards Vinnie.

Vinnie’s mouth drops open and he covers his mouth. Then he slowly nods his head. He lowers his hands to reveal a blooming smile, and his reply of “Yes!” can be faintly heard. Gene stands and goes around to Vinnie’s chair, picks up the box to take out the ring, and slides it onto Vinnie’s finger. Vinnie jumps up and they kiss passionately.

The camera opens on a wall of a bedroom, then is turned around to be on Gene. He grins at the camera and speaks in a quiet voice. “If you’re watching this, you’ve found the one video of my honeymoon I’m doing. The next two weeks are going to be completely radio silence. And to be honest? I’ve never been more excited.”

The camera is turned around to the bed, and zooms in on a sleeping Vinnie. “There he is—the one I’m gonna spend my life with, and the one who somehow wants to spend his life with me.” The camera zooms out and turns back to Gene. “Is it normal when you’re married to still wonder how the hell your partner puts up with you?” He shrugs. “Guess I’ll find out.” The camera turns back to Vinnie and zooms in on him. “Look at him; beautiful. He was the first one to fall asleep after last night.” His voice turns proud. “Not to brag, but I kind of outdid myself last night. I’m kind of surprised no one heard him.”

As he speaks, Vinnie shifts in bed and slowly opens his eyes. He lifts a hand and rubs them, then turns to blink blearily at the camera. “Mm, Gene… what are you doing?”

“Showing the world my beautiful husband,”

“I thought you said you weren’t going to bring Shannon along,”

“Don’t worry, this is the only video I’m taking,”

“Mmm… okay.” Vinnie rubs his eyes and props himself up.

The camera zooms in closer. “Vinniiiiiie…”

Vinnie looks at the camera, smiling amusedly. “Yes, Gene?”

“Got anything you wanna say to Shannon?”

“Shannon, you’re a lovely woman, but Gene’s legally mine now. If you could stop trying to steal him from me, that would be great.”

“Very funny. I meant something like saying hi. For posterity.”

“Okay, okay,” Vinnie smiles at the camera and waves. “Hello, it’s me, Vinnie. As of two days ago, I got married to the beautiful man behind the camera…” Vinnie laughs. “Who is now blushing.”

“Shut up,”

Vinnie laughs. “Well, assuming Gene keeps his promise, this is the only video being taken during our honeymoon, so… enjoy it.”

“Well said,”

“Thank you,”

“How’s the bed?”

Vinnie shifts. “Mm… comfy. Really comfy.”

“It is pretty comfy,”

Vinnie grins at Gene beyond the camera. “It’d be perfect if a certain someone would put Shannon away and come back to bed.” He bats his eyelashes. “Please?”

Gene sounds like he’s grinning. “Well, since you asked so nicely…”

The screen goes black.

#ladies gentlemen and nonbinaries: behold the sappiest fucking thing I have ever written ever #and also one of the longest things I've written #not THE longest but still pretty long #bc as usual for me when I have a good idea I get carried away with it lol #also why paul and gene are co-owners of a wine bar I have no idea #that's just the idea I had #but yeah anyway #hope you enjoyed this lame thing #happy birthday Shandi!#kiss fanfiction #demonankh #kiss au writing #my writing #thanks for reading!#k now i'm gonna go eat something lol

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cjxkpopxwriting · 5 years ago

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SINDAY DRABBLE: Happy birthday, Jagi

Author’s Note: this is a Drabble written specifically for Raquel @gloomyoongs for her birthday! Jin’s coming for you. 😍💋😈 I Hope everyone can enjoy it too.

It wasn’t like he hadn’t celebrated Westernized birthdays ever before. Even after their exposure to other types of celebrating, the guys had made it a thing to celebrate on their individual birthdays as much as the big one on the 1st of the year. But this was his princess. His queen. His Jagi. And he had to go all out.

The mood was set. The whole room was perfectly cleaned, organized, the table tuned to just the right angle. He’d made sure candles littered the room in the sappiest way he could imagine. Rose petals on the floor. On the table cloth. Two place settings with gleaming silverware and plates and perfectly folded napkins that had taken him hours to do. In the middle of the table was placed a dish full of her favorite pasta, complete with decoratively twisted breadsticks coated in garlic butter.

Of course he’d not missed a detail. He had his hair perfectly combed, a full suit on. He wore his best cologne, and had a dazzling smile as she texted him that she was almost there. Fussing over the food, he made sure it was still hot, accidentally blew out a candle, and had to relight it, w text that she was here. The door opened and she gasped, making him jump and turn to look at her.

“Ahhh, Jagiya! You didn’t text!” Raquel shook her head, eyes wide. “Oh yes I did! Jin... did you do this... is this for me?” Jin blushed brightly, his smile soft and then quirked to the side as he closed the door and took her hands, tugging her gently to the table. The surprise wasn’t necessarily ruined, but the whole serenading her bit was out. “It’s your birthday. I didn’t forget. And... I know it’s not going out and being crazy. But sometimes a night in is good.”

His eyes turned to her, drinking her in, and he sighed. “You are so beautiful... so so beautiful, princess.” She has been invited over under the guise of movies, pizza, and maybe a quickie. But with everyone gone, he had been able to plan something wonderful. “Come and sit... I’ve made your favorite.” Her eyes shot open in surprise at the pile of pasta and chicken coated in a lemony garlic sauce that smelled absolutely divine. He grinned victoriously as she beamed back up at him, and pumped his arm. “Oh yeah. Team Kim Seokjin for the win!”

Jin quickly served the two of them plates of pasta, salad, and breadsticks, feeling accomplished. She smirked at him. “What?” He finally asked, and she shook her head. “No entertainment? Kook and Jimin aren’t gonna jump out to sing for us?” Jin scoffed. “You want singing? From them? What am I, chopped cabbage? Hello! I can sing!” She giggled back at him, his face looking more perturbed. “And I’m worldwide handsome! Are you not entertained woman?! Seriously? Fine!”

Getting on his knees beside her chair, in a suit that could easy match the price of one of those little box cars, he began to serenade her with Epiphany. Shoving him lightly, she shook her head. “First, there’s no rain you dummy! And second, that’s not even close to romantic.” Jin grumbled and sat in his chair, shaking his own head. “You are impossible to please! And to think I was going to share Japanese style cheesecake with you!”

It was her turn to pout and he threw his hands up. “Yah! Impossible! Fine! I’ll share! Only because it’s your birthday!” The dinner between the two of them was interrupted by a video chat where Jungkook and Jimin did actually sing to her and everyone wished her the best night ever. While she finished her video call, Jin served up the dessert for them, and slid the plate with one lit candle in it in front of her. “You idiots quit yammering and sing again!”

Letting her blow out her candle, the guys finished singing and cheered when she silently made her wish. “Go find someone else’s date to crash, you savages! Bye!” Hanging up on them as they laughed, he sat back down and took a bite. “Mmm, try it!” Jin looked like he was on pins and needles as she began to bite into the cheese cake. Oh please be the right slice. Finally she scooped up a large bite and stuffed it in her mouth only to sputter for a moment and spit out whatever was hard and cold and... “oh! Is that a ring! Jin!”

That was a massive rock. Holy shit.

The man was on his knees again (sorry, Gucci) and he met her shocked gaze with a lopsided grin, trying not to giggle. “I waited all dinner to watch you nearly choke on that 5,000 dollar engagement ring...” he began, making her swat at him, which he easily dodged, catching her hands to hold them. “Will you make me the handsomest, smartest, most talented, happiest man alive? And marry me, Jagiya?”

Tears filled her eyes as she tackled him to the floor, cheesecake covered ring forgotten on the table as she kissed him. Cradling her against him, he laughed and rubbed the back of his head. “So is that...” “yes you idiot! That’s a yes!” Jin shouted victoriously, scrambling from the floor to dance around for a second. “Oh... my Jagiya. My baby. My princess...” he began, kissing all over her face, and she added “fiancé” between kisses, making him laugh. “Mhmmm. Fiancé. God I love you.”

The kisses began to get more desperate and hungry, the tiny woman pressed against him shoving him back towards the room he shared with Yoongi. “I’m so glad they’re not here... that means I can be as loud as I want.” Jin was wide eyed as she undid the buttons on his jacket and shoved it off, tugging his shirt out of his pants too. “Hey! Take it easy! This is quality stuff! I swear if you...” He added as a button popped off, and then growled at her. “Oh that’s it. You’ve ruined my suit. Now you pay!”

Squealing as she was lifted and promptly body slammed (gently) into the bed, Jin finished the shirt off by ripping it off Superman style. “Always wanted to do that for a girl. Yesss.” Her hands slid up his abdomen and chest and across those wide shoulders, lips finding his neck as he climbed back over her. “I love you so much. Gotta make love to my fiancé on her birthday... yesss.” She giggled, but the sound shifted to something wild as his hand slid into the front of her dress, shoving it higher.

“Oooh. Lace. Very nice... what color is it... mmmm.” The black lace hugged her curves, contrasting her skin perfectly and he bit into his fist, nodding. “I knew there was a reason I wanted to marry you. Yes!” As she sat up he peeled her dress off and allowed her to strip his shirt off his arms, her fingers flying to his belt right after. “Slow down baby. I have all night.” Her chuckle made his lips pout out and she nodded, explaining, “I know we have all night but if we get the crazy, clumsy round out of the way I’ll get at least two really good ones.”

Gasping, he covered his chest. “How dare you? Ya! You’re not getting any unless you say every round is the best round, you monster!” Giggling again, her lips found his. “Ok, I’m sorry. Every round with Mr. Worldwide Handsome, my fiancé, is AMAZING.” Looking satisfied, ego thoroughly stroked, he preened and nodded. “Good girl.” Standing up, he pulled his belt off. “Birthday spankings... now. On your knees.” Obediently turning over to expose her lace clad ass to him, she gasped when the sharp sting of his belt met her flesh, arousal turning over her senses to him. “Again, Jin. Please.”

He let her have two more swats so she got three total, and nodded in satisfaction. “You’re overdressed.” He added, and she agreed, shoving his pants open and down his hips. “So are you. I need these off. And I need you inside me.” His fingers slid around her back to fight with her bra, and after a few tries, he finally got it loose. “Black lace... god I love it. Jagiya...” Plush lips wrapped around a nipple, sucking hard while his fingers found the other, twisting teasingly and then kneading the entire breast.

“So beautiful baby. I am so lucky. You have no idea. Everyone will call you Mrs. Worldwide Handsome... because you look so good. Like me.” His lips wandered down to kiss right above her navel as he tugged the lace off her lower half and slingshotted them across the room. “I have no idea where those landed. I’m sorry.” Being yanked down for a kiss, he was quiet again, her hands deftly working his boxers lower. Freedom. Oh it was so good and-

“Ahhh.”

Her fingers wrapped him and pumped slowly, his jaw falling slack as he leaned down to kiss along her jaw and neck. “Yes baby... mmm.” She was slow, teasing him with each pump of her fingers. “You’re so hard and ready to go baby. Eager to please me?” Jin gave her a playful grin and nodded. “Perhaps. Yes... ok god, I want it. I’ve waited all day..” Her eyes met his, so full of love for the mess of a man over her and she knew this was it. This was the love of her life. And now she would be his forever very soon.

Jin kisses her passionately, lips eager but gentle and slow, parting her thighs with his body and sliding close enough to take her. Finally where he wanted to be, he gripped himself, stroking a few times, soft wines leaving his lips. “Condom? No condom? How do you...” But she was already dragging him closer, reminding him of her use of birth control in a whisper against his lips. Not needing to be told again, he connected their bodies with a single stroke of his hips, jaw dropping when he bottomed out.

“Always feels like the first time, baby.” She nodded in agreement, having briefly forgotten how big he was, body flexing around him to accommodate his girth and length. Having been together for over two years, there wasn’t a thing Seokjin didn’t know about her body, and quickly put that knowledge to work, hoisting her leg higher to bury himself deep. Maintaining even strokes and grinding with each one, he already had her maxed out.

One orgasm. Two.. could he get a third?

“Jin... oh my god are you on something? Jesus...” Jin kisses down her throat and chest, slowing as he had to back himself off of his own release. “Just high on your love, baby. Please, take one more?” Nodding, she kissed his lips slowly, deeply, passionately, only breathing between when he did it so good she couldn’t help it. “Jin... I’m so... close... please don’t stop.” He managed a hiss in response, hips jerking harder as he fought to stay in control.

Her face scrunched up, eyes rolling back in her head, and he knew that was it. Hearing her cry his name out into the echo of the empty house, he tumbled over the edge with her, slamming himself as deep as possible to keep everything inside. Her fingers slid up his back and shoulders and into his hair, keeping him close as they both panted to catch their breath. “I love you.” He stares back into her eyes and she smiles back, heart melting in her chest as she cradles his face in both hands. “I love you too.”

Jin is already getting off, running out of the room and she’s left confused and dripping and staring at the ceiling. “Jin!” He quickly returns with the ring and a paper towel, drying it off after he’d quickly rinsed it off in the sink. “I have to make it official. I just realized your hand didn’t feel right. Come on.” Sitting up, she offers him her left hand and he quickly slides the ring on her finger, cheering at the perfect fit. “I love you so much, baby. I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you. Happy birthday, Jagi.” And with a snort, he begins round two.

#seokjin #jin #sinday drabble #bts writing

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thevalesofanduin · 7 years ago

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The Christmas Card - part I

A McKirk Christmas fic

Are you seeing anyone yet?

Jim Kirk is ready to scream every time the question comes up and this year, he decides he’ll get his family off of his back. But if he’s honest, when he places an ad to search for a random family to take Christmas photos with, he’s just out for shits and giggles.

But when single-dad Leonard and six year old Joanna answer the ad, will his idea to get the family off his back turn from a joke into something serious?

note: based off of this post and the tags @goingknowherewastaken put with it and oh wow this might be the sappiest thing I’ve ever written...

masterlist (x)

PART I

Jim hates family gatherings.

Parties, general get-togethers, birthdays, Christmas, really, he hates them all.

His relationship with his mother is strained at best, and when going down the family line that doesn’t necessarily become better. He likes uncle Jake well enough because he doesn’t take shit from anyone and basically just does what he wants – including teaching Jim how to pick a lock and, later, where to get weed. The reasons why Jim likes him, though, are also the exact same reasons why uncle Jake isn’t invited to family anythings anymore so Jim has to make-do without his favorite uncle.

Today they’re celebrating his Nan’s birthday so he can’t not show up.

If it had been up to him, however, he would’ve visited either before or after the family arrived and just have tea with his almost ancient grandmother.

But no such luck and his mother blackmailed him into going with her. The only salvation in Jim’s opinion is that Frank is at work and so Jim doesn’t have to deal with his step-dad.

What he does have to deal with, however, are more relatives than he ever remembers having. Aunts and uncles, cousins and he doesn’t quite remember cousin Wendy having four kids but well, she does.

He’s good enough with kids but he’s not allowed to be alone with them lest he become the next uncle Jake so he’s stuck with his mom, aunt Becky and Nan.

He thinks maybe if he can find a topic for them to talk about, they can actually have a civilized conversation.

He’s about to bring up some random family memory when aunt Becky asks: “so are you seeing anyone yet, Jim?”

Jim blinks. “What?”

“Yes,” Nan sighs with a nod and a wistful smile. “It would be good for you, you know?”

Jim frowns and wonders why he has to go through this crap again. Every time they meet, every holiday, someone asks him why a guy like him hasn’t found himself a nice girl to settle down with yet. Start a family.

“Even Sam has a lovely family now,” aunt Becky says.

Yes, Jim thinks and tries not to huff, because that idiot knocked up his girlfriend and had to marry her.

Besides, it’s not like Jim wants to actually find himself a girl, necessarily. Or a guy, really.

He might be twenty-eight but he’s perfectly happy being single. He is busy enough trying to pick up the scraps he let fall during rebellious teenage years and he might be shoulder-depth in debt but he’s almost got his Bachelor in Engineering.

But the family doesn’t ever ask about that.

So he puts on a smile and shrugs. “Sam’s got a job. I’m still in Uni, I could never support a family.”

It puts an end to the conversation for a while but when an hour later aunt Becky mentions that Wendy still has a cute, single friend Jim is impressed that he doesn’t end up screaming.

---

“You sure I can’t borrow Ny and bring her along for Christmas dinner this year?” Jim’s slumped down Spock’s couch with a cup of tea in his hands – because Spock is civilized like that.

His friend raises an eyebrow at Jim, disapproving and judgmental. “I doubt Nyota likes to be addressed as a thing.”

“That’s the nice way of saying it!” Nyota, Spock’s girlfriend of five years, shouts from the bedroom.

“You’re supposed to be watching TV!” Jim shouts back.

“You call my name I’m gonna listen,” Nyota calls. “Find yourself another fake girlfriend.”

Jim huffs and is about to cross his arms in front of his chest in pouty acceptance – you do not argue with Nyota if you like your ego intact – when an idea comes to his mind and his eyes widen.

A fake girlfriend…

“That’s it!”

Spock looks like he’s about to ask Jim what’s it. After a moment’s hesitation, however, he hums and takes a sip of his tea. Some things, he decides, are better off not known.

---

If Spock thought not asking Jim what his idea was would mean that he would have nothing to do with it then he’s never quite understood what it means to be one of Jim Kirk’s best friends.

He just hadn’t expected it to happen out on a walk in the hills one Saturday morning. But it does, and as they sit down to have their coffee from the thermos as the crisp morning air fogs their breaths, Jim shoves his phone into Spock’s hands.

“Read it and tell me what you think,” Jim says and there’s a grin on his lips but his eyes are serious and expectant.

“What is it?” Spock asks with a raised eyebrow.

“This thing we talked about a few days ago, I wrote a text. You like it?” Jim wraps his hands around his warm cup of coffee and impatiently taps his foot against the rock they’re sitting on.

Spock resists the urge to roll his eyes and glances down at the phone.

What he reads, though, makes his eyebrows quirk up.

Looking for: random family to take Christmas pics with

Hi, I’m Jim, a 28 year old, nearly graduated Engineering student. You know that kind of family that always asks you if you’re dating yet? I have one. So this year, to get them off my back I want to send them a Christmas card saying “seasonal greetings from the Kirks” where it looks like I married a random woman (or guy, like hey it’s the 21st century) with kids. It’ll be the funniest thing ever with lots of tacky decoration and ugly Christmas sweaters. Give me a call if you’re in for some fun…

Spock puts the phone down and looks at his friend with an almost pained expression. “Jim,” he starts and sighs.

Jim merely grins. “Isn’t it the best idea ever?”

Spock takes a deep breath and takes a moment to consider the best way to deal with the situation. Then, he asks: “what are you hoping to achieve with this?”

“Shits and giggles?” Jim shrugs with a chuckle. “But really, this is what they think they want from me but I’m certain once they see this they’ll realize they’re wrong. Win-win.”

“I doubt that is how it will go,” Spock says, trying to reason with his friend.

The smirk that falls over Jim’s lips is a bit unnerving. “Too late,” Jim says, “I already placed the ad.”

Spock takes a sip of his coffee and looks onward to the hills, wondering not for the first time why he’s friends with Jim.

---

Jim wasn’t expecting a ton of messages in reaction to his ad but if he’s honest, not receiving any is quite disappointing.

He’d thought – hoped – that there would’ve been at least a few people out there with a sense of humor willing to help a guy out for a few bucks but seems he was wrong.

He has all but given up by the time he receives an email.

Hey Jim, how about a single dad with a 6 year old daughter? I’ll do it for free if I can use the pics to piss off my ex-wife. Any idea when and where you want to do it? I got a tight schedule most days but I’m sure we can work something out for the sake of pulling one on our families. Let me know, Leonard

Jim finds himself grinning by the time he’s finished reading the email. Leonard sounds like a proper, old-fashioned name and not at all a guy that should be divorced. Definitely not the kind of guy that should be out to mess with his ex-wife by taking shitty pictures with some random college dude. Or well, in the end it’s just a name and Jim’s happy that someone offered so he shoots back a quick message.

Nice to meet you, Leonard. Single father sounds wonderful. I’m pretty flexible as long as I don’t have a final or presentation you get to call it. Not sure about location, though. I got a tiny fake Christmas tree we can stand next to, I guess…

He hopes Leonard has a better option because now that he’s thinking about it he realizes he hasn’t actually thought this through very well.

In the end, it sorts itself out over the next few days.

Leonard has a house in the suburbs of town and if Jim helps to put up the monstrosity that is apparently the Christmas tree Leonard assures him they can take the photo’s at his house. He even arranges for his friend Geoff to come over to take the shots.

That’s only the technicalities of the plan they discuss. In-between arranging that they have actual conversations that catch Jim by complete surprise.

He hadn’t expected any communication beyond the necessary but talking to Leonard is actually fun. It’s banter up and down and when it’s not that, he’s actually learning things about the other man. How he’s a trauma surgeon that still manages to raise his little girl singlehandedly after his now ex-wife walked out on them three years ago. Sure, his mama is living a few streets down the road but it’s still impressive.

So by the time Jim gets ready to drive his old-timer Mustang over to Leonard’s on a chilly Sunday morning he’s quite the nervous mess. Impressed and intimidated, is what he tells himself.

It’s not because it somehow feels like he’s going on a blind-date with nervous butterflies in his stomach because he’s enjoyed talking to the other so much.

It’s not.

But then he pulls up into the drive of what should be Leonard’s house and the front door opens to a tall, fit guy that even from a distance Jim can see is gorgeous and he thinks oh, shit.

tags: @mccoymostly @outside-the-government @southernbellestatues @imoutofmyvulcanmind @wonders-of-the-multiverse @jiminthestreets-bonesinthesheets @trade-baby-blues @startrekwonderer @captainsbabysitter-blog @goingknowherewastaken @starmission @emmkolenn @dreaming-about-starfleet @medicatemedrmccoy @haveyouseenmymind @skull-in-a-jar

#mckirk #Jim Kirk #Leonard McCoy #joanna mccoy #star trek au #star trek fanfiction #christmas story #my writing

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ahumanfemale · 7 years ago

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Happy birthday to my dear Kendell.

The sappiest writer we have, the mother of the Barisi kidfic. @booyahkendell is my friend and fellow writer, who brightens all of our days and our darkest fandom nights.

My gift to you is small and worthless, but I hope you like it anyway. I wrote it to our dear Sam Smith’s new single, “Pray”.

Have a happy 20th, darling. I hope today is all you want and more.

xoxo, Lyssa.

The mood is somber at best, downright depressed at worst.

It was another rough case in a string of them, this one culminating in a loss. An unexpected one. They had all been celebrating a slam dunk with the jury returned their not guilty verdict. Numb from shock, they’d all retreated to a bar. Mostly to sit in silence, as none of them had managed to find any words yet. Every time one of them started the sentence would just trail off… never to be picked up again. Carisi tries more than any of them but even he’s been rendered mute.

Rafael is miserable.

Not just now, in this moment. Although that’s certainly true too. He’s miserable regularly now. It shouldn’t matter, but somehow it does.

Never in his life had Rafael ever planned on happiness.

Growing up poor in the Bronx with a belligerent asshole for a father didn’t lead him to experience many Kodak moments in his childhood, no matter how hard his abuelita and his mother tried. And they succeeded sometimes. But he’d grown up an asshole, too. A mouthy one who clung to his intelligence as his sole means of achieving superiority. He’d aced everything he’d ever touched, gone to Harvard, and aced his way through law school. Only ever getting cockier, only ever putting more walls up because he had a reputation to maintain. A reputation that means nothing now, the taste of failure so strong on his tongue that he has to drown it with scotch.

He thought it wouldn’t matter.

The thrill of winning would sustain him forever, he was sure. Because that was the closest to absolute happiness he’d ever been and the closest he’d ever wanted to be. But then he’d transferred to Manhattan and fallen in with SVU and he’d… fit. Inexplicably. And it was hard not to care here. Hard to just care about wins and not the faces you were representing. It was a transformation that had occurred before he’d even realized it was happening. In Brooklyn he was Rafael Barba, the insufferably arrogant ADA with a conviction rate worthy of envy. In Manhattan he was Rafael Barba, the man who was almost always willing to fight. It was hard not to take some pride in that, even knowing that failure was inevitable.

Harder when Olivia Benson was the ultimate victim’s advocate, forcing him to take cases he ordinarily wouldn’t until it was a habit. Until he took them all, unwinnable or not. Rafael had found a kindred spirit in her - a woman dedicated to the job, who took her happiness from her successes there.

But Liv was happy now and it had nothing to do with work.

He didn’t know who it was, knew she’d keep it close to the chest until she couldn’t anymore, but he knew she had someone. She was smiling more, was leaving early when able. She looked younger, looked like the persistent weight on her shoulders was fading. And if Rafael’s kindred spirit was no longer able to find her joy solely from work, how was he supposed to?

What happens when the job can’t sustain him anymore?

It’s that question he’s pondering when Fin stands up and pays his tab, saying he’s got an early morning. With his son and son-in-law, playing grandpa with the new baby. They all wish him well and Olivia is next, smiling down at her phone screen before putting it away and saying she has to go. Not offering a reason, just another smile as she finishes the rest of her wine and heads for the door. She spares Rafael a touch on the shoulder as she passes and they’ve been friends long enough now that he’s able to decipher her intention instantly.

You did good.

You did the right thing.

This wasn’t your fault.

He can’t bring himself to smile back but does accept the touch for what it is and wishes her a good night, hoping whoever she’s going back to is able to take the crushing weight of today off her shoulders.

“Yeah, I guess that means I should go too,” Rollins says, sliding from the stool. “Jessie’s babysitter is due to leave in half an hour. At least this way I’ll be there for bedtime.”

“Here, let me split a cab with you,” Carisi says, downing the rest of his beer. “It’s getting late. You never know who’s prowling around in front of your building.”

She scoffs.

“Do I look like I need an escort, Carisi?”

“Nah. But watch me do it anyway.”

Carisi pays for both their drinks and in the meantime Rollins is studying Rafael. He hasn’t the slightest idea what she sees but she looks wary, pulling her coat around her shoulders with traces of concern pinching the corners of her mouth. For a moment it looks like she wants to say something but then the impulse is gone because her babysitter is texting her with a picture of the baby in her pajamas and the rest of the world is burned away. Her face lights up, her smile is wide, and then she’s pressuring Carisi to hurry up so they can get out of there.

“You gonna be alright, counselor?” Carisi asks and Rafael briefly considers telling him the truth.

Probably not.

“I’m fine, Carisi.”

The man frowns and tries again. “Care to come with? I’m sure we can all fit into the backseat of a cab.”

Rafael scoffs.

“No thank you.”

“Carisi, leave him alone. He’s can get himself home. Right, Barba?” He nods and Rollins seems vindicated. “See? All good. Let’s go.”

He mumbles some generic farewell and then the two of them are out the door and he’s alone.

Well, not entirely alone.

Alone with his thoughts, which is probably a worse idea that being actually alone.

His thoughts are traitors these days, reminding him of his failures rather than his victories. Personal and professional. He thinks of earlier that afternoon, when their murder victim’s father had heard the words that would set his son’s killer free. He’d looked to Rafael in abject horror, because really it would always be Rafael’s face he attributed with this betrayal. The cops did the best they could, they caught his son’s killer, but Rafael was the one who failed to make it stick. He briefly wondered if he would get death threats in letters from him, too, but decided he might deserve them.

His third scotch disappears before he realizes what’s happened and his face is warm, his blood heavy and sluggish. The bartender is eyeing him like he’s considering cutting him off and so he orders a fourth before the man can make up his mind. This one he sips, just because he truly doesn’t want to get so drunk that he’s unable to get home. That, he supposes, is at least some indication that he’s not so far gone that he’s faded into the nihilistic headspace that finds him before the blackouts.

Rafael is miserable, but he doesn’t want to be.

He doesn’t want to be happy.

He doesn’t want to magically wake up and smile and feel fulfilled.

He just… wants to feel something other than this. Other than the certainty of his own worthlessness, the crushing weight of his defeats. He wants to feel something other than numb and tired and alone.

Rafael doesn’t believe in God.

He swears he doesn’t, but he’s drunk and it’s been an awful month - close to an awful year - and it just slips out.

It’s nothing formal, nothing like the prayers his family said over meals as a child. He’s not even entirely sure what words flit through his mind but he does realize the thoughts were meant for someone other than himself and so it counted, he supposed. It was a weak moment, one of a growing many, and he’d beat himself up about it tomorrow. Tomorrow, when he sobered up and remembered the ridiculous notion that he was hoping for something other than misery.

“Hey, counselor.”

Rafael turns, surprised. Carisi is next to him again, coat buttoned up and face flushed red with cold.

“Detective?” he questions and is instantly embarrassed by the slurring of the word. “Didn’t you take Detective Rollins home?”

“Yeah,” he sighs, face pinched. “Almost an hour ago.”

He would have sworn it had been ten minutes.

“Decide you weren’t done?” he questioned as Carisi leaned his hip on the bar next to him and looked down.

He was so close.

Why did Carisi always stand so close?

And why did Rafael never move away?

“Nah, I’m done for the night. You are too, I think.”

Rafael scoffs. “How very presumptuous of you, detective.”

“I’m not presuming anything. I’m hoping.”

“Hoping what?”

“Hoping you’ll let me take you home,” he says meaningfully and Rafael looks up at him. His jaw set, his eyes direct. “It’s been a long week, counselor. A really shitty day. Let me make sure you get home safe.”

“I’m almost certain that won’t do anything to change the way today ended.”

“No, it won’t,” Carisi admits on a sigh, “But it’s something and the small things matter, too.”

Rafael doesn’t believe in God.

“Fine,” he hears himself say and takes one last drink from his glass before leaving it, half empty on the bar. He settles his tab and let’s Carisi walk him out. Let’s him catch a cab, let’s him open the door for Rafael as he climbs in.

His pride should probably be rioting, he thinks as Carisi nudges him to give his address to the driver. He should be annoyed and blustering and insulted at the knowledge that a young cop feels the need to walk him to his door because he’s worried Rafael can’t hold his drink.

He doesn’t.

He feels… comforted.

“How did you know to come back for me, Carisi?”

The man doesn’t even blink, doesn’t look away from Rafael for even a second in the dark backseat, even if it would be easier for him to shy away from it.

“Felt like I needed to,” he answers softly. “Wouldn’t leave me alone until I came back.”

Rafael doesn’t believe in God.

Carisi does.

“Thank you,” he says and is surprised to find he means in.

“Anytime, Rafael.”

The sound of his name on Carisi’s lips hits him hard, harder than his father’s fists or his own defeats ever did. It sucks the breath from him and for moment his head is clearer, his heart beating for another reason than because it has no choice. His heart is beating because maybe Carisi was meant to be here, in this cab with him. Maybe Rafael was meant to be here too.

His head tilts forward of its own volition, lips brushing softly over Carisi’s.

A glance.

A touch.

A taste.

Just a hint of promise before it’s gone, Carisi pulling back slowly. His eyes are still closed, his mouth still slightly parted. It’s a sight Rafael intends to memorize and replay for the rest of his life. The sight of Carisi living in their kiss a little longer, refusing to let it go.

Rafael doesn’t believe in God.

“Come home with me, Carisi.”

This pops Carisi’s eyes open in an instant and Rafael is pleased to find no confusion, no denial on his lips.

“You’re drunk,” he argues but looks weak.

“Not drunk enough for this to be a mistake,” he said. “Come with me. Don’t pretend we both haven’t been thinking of this for years.”

“I wouldn’t lie to you like that,” Carisi assures him and his eyes dart back down to Rafael’s lips as the cab pulls to a stop in front of Rafael’s building. “But… but it’s been a hard day, and you’ve been drinking.”

“So?” Rafael asks. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying call me tomorrow,” Carisi responds and his voice sounds rough. “Call me sober, call me hungover. I don’t care. Just… just call me again and I’ll be here.”

“For sex?” he asks, mouth quirking up.

“For anything.”

Carisi means it.

Rafael could call him tomorrow morning for a bloody mary and Carisi would show up with every ingredient, eager to get in the door.

“Okay,” he says slowly, handing over his fare to the driver. “I’ll call you.”

“Please do,” Carisi implores him, one long hand on his thigh. “Take care of yourself, counselor. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

Rafael nods, gives a half smile as he gets out of the cab and shuts the door behind him. He walks around the back of the cab and offers a parting wave that Carisi returns, mouth turned down in worry as the car drives off into the night. He was certain in that moment that he would call Carisi the next morning, maybe not immediately upon waking but at least before noon. He can’t shake the feeling of right that’s hanging over him as he walks in the door, boards the elevator. Mostly he doesn’t want to.

Rafael doesn’t believe in God.

Maybe he should.

#happy birthday kendell #booyahkendell #barisi #barisi drabble #thank you to my dear sweet robin hood for her help on this

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myspookysunshine · 7 years ago

Text

Moonlight Drive 1/1

Summary : It’s Steve’s birthday. What should be a celebration turns into hell, then recovery, then something approximating Jonathan’s idea of heaven.

Pairing : Steve Harrington/Jonathan Byers (pre-slash)

Rating : Teen

Warnings : Hurt/comfort, blood, injury, aftermath of a fight, language, not being at all nice to Billy Hargrove

Reposted on AO3 as dustyirish

Author’s notes : Written for Stonathan Week - badly written, I’m afraid to say. This is the sappiest mess I’ve ever ended up with, and that’s saying something, but this is (no exaggeration) the SIXTH version of Stonathan birthday fics I have started over the last three days, and the only one I was able to completely finish in time. I have no damned idea what to do with the other five. I’m lucky I can still see straight at this point. Anyway, bless you if you take time to read.

Come on, baby, gonna take a little ride Down, down by the ocean side Gonna get real close Get real tight Baby, gonna drown tonight

~ The Doors

Jonathan drove towards Linda Shane's house. He didn't know who the hell Linda Shane was, or how Steve knew her, or why she had been chosen to host his birthday bash. But Steve had invited him, and that meant that Jonathan had to make the effort to show up, even if he would most likely park in the woods across from the house, debating with himself for half an hour or so before promptly returning home.

He looked down, fiddling with the radio dial, then glanced back up only to see a blood-covered Steve Harrington standing in the middle of the road, waving his arms wildly over his head.

Jonathan slammed on the brakes, screeching to a stop about two feet in front of him. His heart was threatening to pound out of his chest as Steve ran to the passenger door, wrenched it open and flopped inside.

"Step on it, Byers!" he was screaming, even before the door was closed. "Go go go!!"

Jonathan stomped the accelerator and obeyed, hands shaking on the wheel.

He drove like a madman for a couple of miles until they hit the edge of town, then dropped to a safer speed, finally daring to take his attention off of the road long enough to look at Steve. His stomach sank. When he had first spotted Steve in front of the car he had thought - if he had time to think anything - that Steve had maybe done something to someone and needed to escape. It was clear now, that whatever had taken place, it had all been done to Steve.

His face was a bloody mess of scrapes and cuts, his nose was bleeding freely down the front of his shirt, there was even a horizontal gash across his neck that looked so much like an attempted throat-slashing that Jonathan had to choke back bile.

"Jesus! What happened?!"

"Fucking Hargrove happened!"

"Are you all right?" It was an idiotic question, but Jonathan was still in shock from nearly turning the man he secretly loved into roadkill.

"I wouldn't go that far," Steve muttered, and lay his head back against the seat, groaning.

Jonathan reached a hand out, not retracting it even when it landed on Steve's thigh. He was too worried to stick to his usual avoidance plan. "Do you need the E.R.?"

"No, it was only six or seven punches as opposed to the usual dozen."

Fury swept through Jonathan, rapid and intense, and he jerked the steering wheel hard to the left.

Steve shot back up in his seat, "Where are you going?!"

"Back there to kick Hargrove's ass," he growled. "He's not going to keep doing this shit to you!"

Steve was staring at him, open-mouthed. "Fuck, Byers, that was unexpected. And almost disturbingly hot." He lay a hand on Jonathan's arm and gave him a gentle pat. "Turn back around, man. It is so not worth it. Besides, he'll already have bailed. He got what he came for."

Jonathan knew Steve was right, but he also knew he himself had meant what he said. It was going to stop, one way or another. He sighed and made another U-turn, this time at normal speed.

After another minute Steve reached around, groaning, and plucked something off of the back seat. "Can I use this?" he asked in a strange, muffled voice.

Jonathan looked over. "If you don't mind smelling like wet dog. It's Chester's blanket."

Steve pulled it into his lap, ducked his head, and spit a mouthful of blood into the cloth. "Sorry. Don't want to swallow it or I'll wind up puking, and we don't need to add that to the festivities."

Jonathan was sure the concern was plain on his face.

Steve tried to smile and it was ghastly. "Tell Chester I'll wash it before I give it back."

Jonathan pulled off the road into a gas station parking lot. "I'll be right back," he told Steve. "Just take it easy."

He was in the store for five minutes, gathering paper towels and water and a bag of frozen peas in lieu of an ice pack.

When he got back outside, he found Steve leaning out of the car, spitting more blood onto the pavement.

He climbed into in the driver's seat, flipped on the dome light and lined up his purchases on the dash, waiting for Steve to finish. Once he'd settled, Jonathan passed him a wad of paper towels for his nose and got to work.

"I'll try not to hurt you any more than I have to." He reached out and brushed back the side of Steve's hair, exposing his cheek. "There's a pretty bad cut along here." He gently cleaned the blood away as well as he could manage with a bottle of Evian and a swatch of Bounty.

Steve winced at the touch. "Fucker's ring probably caught me."

Jonathan worked silently, trying to tamp down the rage he was feeling. It wasn't going to help the situation any at the moment. Right now he needed to focus on tending to Steve, making sure he wasn't more injured than he'd let on. He gently turned Steve's head so he could start on the other side.

Steve met his eyes and grinned. "Would you really kick his ass for me, Byers?"

"I kicked yours, didn't I? And I didn't even get any pleasure out of that. With him it would be nothing but." His eye landed on the neck wound again and he brushed his thumb over it, careful not to press too hard. "Just tell me that wasn't a knife," he grated out.

"What?" Steve looked down, startled at Jonathan's tone. "God no. I don't know what did that; I remember slamming against a table at one point. Hargrove doesn't want to actually kill me - that'd be like taking away his favorite chew toy."

Steve's eyes darkened suddenly and he startled the hell out of Jonathan by screaming "Goddammit!!!" at the roof, pounding both fists on the seat and drumming his heels on the floorboard. It reminded Jonathan of the tantrums Will used to throw when he was two and denied extra pudding.

"Stop that!"

"I'm fucking pissed! I'm sick and fucking tired of that asshole jumping me around every corner!"

"You're also bleeding all over my seat and hurting yourself more!" Jonathan yelled back, then lay his hand on Steve's shoulder, voice softening. "We'll figure it out. Just please let me take care of you." He'd meant to say 'take care of this', honest to Christ he had, and he blushed scarlet at the realization of what had come out of his mouth.

Steve was still silently fuming, and if he had heard the slip-up he didn't give any indication.

Jonathan mopped up the left side of Steve's face and went to work on his neck, having to dodge around Steve's Polo shirt to reach the errant streaks of blood.

"This thing's had it anyway," Steve grumbled, pulled the shirt over his head and, in a final fit of pique, tossed it out the window into the parking lot.

Jonathan tried not to react audibly to the suddenly bare chest next to him, but he couldn't stop himself from admiring as he wiped the cloth over skin. Admiration, however, turned to more worry - and a re-firing of anger - as he noticed the smattering of darkening knuckle marks along Steve's side. "You're already bruising." He lightly touched an area on Steve's rib cage with a finger, then quickly pulled back.

"Yeah. It'll be really spectacular tomorrow." Steve spit one last time into a paper towel and made a face. "Is there any water left?"

Jonathan pulled a Pepsi out of the bag and handed it over.

Steve sighed happily. "Have I ever told you how much I love you?"

Jonathan froze. Of course it was a joke; with Steve Harrington it could hardly be anything else. But Jonathan's imagination had always been too rampant for his own good, and at the sound of those words it threatened to lead him places he had no business going. He put the remainders of the clean-up items back into the bag, trying to compose himself. "I'm all finished," he finally said, voice only a little shaky.

Steve rolled his head to look at Jonathan. "Take me somewhere, Byers."

"You mean the hospital?"

Steve snorted. "No, not the hospital. Take me somewhere you'd take me on our first date."

Jonathan blinked. "Do you have a concussion?"

"No, I don't have a concussion. It's my goddamn birthday, and I want to get a surprise that isn't Billy Hargrove's fist." His voice softened, almost murmuring. "So take me somewhere special. Special to you."

Jonathan's mouth went dry. "Okay?" It came out more as a croak, but Steve just plopped the bag of frozen peas onto his forehead, whimpered slightly, closed his eyes and didn't seem to notice.

Jonathan sneaked peeks at him the entire drive to the pond. The way his hair curled around the shell of his ear; his bare chest rising and falling with each breath; the long line of his body as he sprawled in the seat. Jonathan ached to take Steve's picture.

He ached for a lot of things.

He sighed as he pulled up to their destination. He reached out with a hand to touch Steve's shoulder, then snatched it back, afraid to touch, not trusting himself at that moment. He settled for a low "Hey. We're here."

Steve's eyes fluttered open. "Awesome. Where's 'here'?"

Jonathan shrugged. "It doesn't really have a name. There's just the pond and some grassland."

"Why this place? What do you like about it?" Steve sounded genuinely curious.

"In the daytime, the sunlight flares off of the water in these incredible arcs; it's great for photography. And this is the best place for the sky at night. There's no city lights to dim the stars." Jonathan realized how utterly boring that must sound to someone like Steve. "I'm sure this isn't what you'd call 'special'."

"No, I'd say this is just about perfect," Steve rebutted, looking out the window. "Is this a strictly-from-the-vehicle viewing spot, or can we get out?"

Jonathan smiled. "We can get out. It's hard to see stars through the roof."

Steve hoisted himself from the car, slowly and painfully, and Jonathan followed, grabbing something from the backseat before shutting the door.

They were about a third of the way into the field when Steve spoke. "Hey, so I thought this was a date. Aren't you even gonna hold my hand?"

Jonathan had no idea if he was kidding or not, and before he could figure it out Steve decided things for him, grabbing hold and lacing his fingers with Jonathan's.

"You okay?"

Jonathan realized he had stopped dead in his tracks. "I ... yeah. Fine." He resumed walking, but his entire focus was on the warmth of Steve's skin against his palm.

"Here good?" Steve asked, and Jonathan saw they had somehow arrived at the edge of the pond.

He nodded and Steve plopped into the grass, letting go of Jonathan's hand. He missed the touch immediately. He sat a couple of feet from Steve, took a steadying breath, and handed over the photo album tucked under his right arm.

Steve squinted down at it. "What's this?"

"A present." The moonlight was bright enough that Steve should be able to see with no problem. Jonathan, however, almost hoped that it would prove too dark. This could go very badly. He had spent months taking the pictures and arranging them, but he hadn't decided whether or not to actually give the album to Steve until the moment he stepped from the car. He could only pray that his instincts were right.

Jonathan wasn't worried about the photos of Steve with the kids. He absolutely loved the one with Dustin. He had caught Steve coming up behind him, tackling and lifting him in a bear hug, growling something against the top of Dustin's head, and Steve's face was a complicated and beautiful dichotomy of 'God, this kid drives me batshit insane and I would lay down and die to protect him'. Jonathan honestly and with no bias thought it was the best photograph he had ever taken.

The ones that concerned him were the more candid shots; Steve sitting by the pool, the sunlight bouncing in his hair; Steve hiding a laugh behind his hand; Steve catching a nap on a bench outside of school. Photos that left absolutely no doubt as to Jonathan's feelings. He had handed Steve his heart right along with the album and all he could do was wait to see if it would be broken.

Steve flipped through the book silently, eyes widening a little more with every page. He finally closed it and turned. "Jesus, Jonathan. That's ..."

Jonathan cringed internally. "Creepy."

"I was going to say 'fucking amazing'. When did you take all of these?"

"Just ... whenever."

Steve picked Jonathan's hand back up and squeezed. "You're really good. Like professional-level good. I can't wait to get these into the light and look at them." Steve's fingers twined with his easily, and god help him, it was starting to feel like they belonged there. "This is seriously the best present I got this year. Maybe any year. I mean it."

Shockingly, Jonathan believed him.

Steve moved his head and winced. "Shit, everything on me hurts. Are you gonna freak if I lay in your lap?"

Jonathan swallowed, his heart racing. "Probably. But you can do it anyway."

Steve stretched out on the grass, head nestled on Jonathan's thigh.

Jonathan's hand automatically migrated towards Steve's hair, fingers wanting to feather through the strands. This time, he found the courage to let them.

Steve was looking up at the stars. He sighed contentedly. "You're right, Byers. Great view."

Jonathan was looking down at Steve, and, cuts and bruises or not, he couldn't agree more. "Happy birthday."

"You know, I think it's actually getting there," Steve said and smiled.

#stonathanweek2017 #stonathan #stranger things fic #hurt/comfort #blood #fighting

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humblereflection · 7 years ago

Text

Kakairu for the sleeping shipping meme

Who is a night owl:

Some nights carry on well into morning when they’re together. It’s not because they’re busy with each other, but more about the pleasant feeling that grows in the pit of their stomach when they find the other curled up on the couch when they get home late.

They lose themselves in each other’s embrace, idly just lying there, perhaps reading their books, perhaps reading their books to each other, but regardless, on some nights they lose all sense of what’s outside their four walls.

Who is a morning person:

Kakashi thinks he’s a morning person until the night he spends over at Iruka’s and wakes a little after the crack of dawn. He’s only over there because that’s where they held Naruto’s going away party, and he’s still here because the kids wouldn’t let him go - no really, they had Iruka make seals that dispelled jutsu to flash move and threw a Kurenai approved genjutsu over the front door - and because Naruto suckered him into cooking his breakfast feast.

“It’ll be my last taste of your wonderful cooking for years, sensei!” he wailed, complete with crocodile tears.

So Kakashi musters his strength to get out of the futon Iruka provided him and stumbles - that juice wasn’t as alcohol free as he thought hmm - out into the kitchen to find Iruka fully dressed save for his untied hair, and cooking up a storm.

But Iruka is Dancing. As he’s cooking up a storm. He has to squint, to make sure he’s seeing this right, and use every ounce of self restraint he has to not save this to his sharigan equipped memory.

“You gonna help me or…?” Iruka calls back to him, and for a split second, a very tiny moment, he thinks ‘I could get used to this,’ the concept of waking up with the birds with this man and living in this oh-too-small apartment in complete bliss. He doesn’t dwell on the thought, nor does he cements his crush on the man.

Not until he gets home that evening to review the day.

(is this the prelude to Anko Pulls the Big Jugs Out??? Who knowssss)

Are they cuddlers:

Of all the things Iruka expected when he started dating Kakashi, cuddling was not on the list. Sex, sure, he thought they’d have a lot of mind blowing sex, but it turns out Kakashi is asexual and would rather they just mutually matsubrate. Which is really fine, Iruka has no problem using his own hand - or the collection of toys Kakashi has acquired - when he gets horny and Kakashi declines his invitations to the bedroom for sex. They’ll mutually matsubrate usually, and Iruka thinks that in itself is pretty hot. But when it’s all said and done, and he’s basking in the glow of the euphoria high, Kakashi snakes his way into his arms and just, latches on. There is no removing a Kakashi off of oneself. Not ever. The only hopes he has is a hawk tapping at the window, an uncomfortable urge to pee and threatening to wet the bed, food delivery - Iruka will carry Kakashi to the door, but the man will jump out of his arms upon arrival - and unexpected company that break through all of the seals and guards on their front door. Usually with brute force.

But Iruka likes it, the attention of this relentless cuddle monster.

Who is the big spoon and who is the little spoon:

On the average night in the joint oh-to-small apartment of Kakashi and Iruka Umino, behind the fronds and leaves of all the plants, you shall find Kakashi in a death grip of cuddling with Iruka. On the not-so-average night, say perhaps their wedding anniversary, their parents birthdays, the memorials of their long since passed friends, Naruto’s birthday, their own birthdays, that night Sakura announced she and Ino were getting married, Iruka will be the one to hold Kakashi in his arms.

What is their favourite sleeping position:

If they end up in bed together at the same time, always on their side, facing another. Gives them something nice to wake up to.

Who steals all the blankets:

Kakashi, in the heat of their annual prank war, has once posted posters all over the village detailing the capture of “blanket hogger Iruka Umino.” To retaliate, Iruka had posted posters that read “Wanted thief: Kakashi Hatake. Has stolen stole my heart,” and had won the adoration of the whole village for being the sappiest couple alive. Kakashi was ruby red for weeks.

What they wear to bed:

Iruka has spent many nights changing Kakashi out of his work uniform and into something more comfortable to wear to bed. He’s gotten injured for his efforts many a time, but those were his own fault no matter how often Kakashi kisses the bandages and apologises. You just don’t coax a mission-mode elite jounin out of his bloody, soiled clothes. You weep at the lose of those expensive sheets and sleep on the couch in the sheets that aren’t full of blood or mud.

And when the elite jounin comes to, nudging you awake to apologise for that cut across your cheek, you tell them they aren’t allowed to cuddle until they change their clothes.

Who likes seeing the other wearing their t-shirt:

When Iruka wakes to a stiff neck from sleeping on the couch, he understands completely that the weight on his entire body is a man three centimetres taller than him. He prays to whatever gods keep track of these things, that this man is also not wearing blood soaked clothes. And he peeks down to see that he is not, but is sure as day, that the man is wearing his stupid reverse mermaid shirt he bought for a gag years ago. He smiles, and would have pulled Kakashi closer, if the man hadn’t been already try to fuse with him.

Who falls asleep mid-conversation:

Depending on the day they’ve had, they’re both guilty of this. Kakashi does it when he returns from long escort missions, Iruka does it after a long day of lecturing pregenin. They just settle them into bed and cozy up with each other and go to sleep.

Who wakes up in the middle of the night with nightmares:

Nooooooooo———–

The first time Kakashi eased a crying Iruka into the world of the wake, he was scared. It had been a thing he was accustomed to do, when leading missions where things had gotten out of hand, and friends would die to leave others weary and miserable and scared. He was trained to deal with people crying in their sleep, help them ease out of it. But with Iruka, it was different.

The man hadn’t been on any missions, let alone fought on a mission is such a long time, he hadn’t a clue as to what was wrong. He never broke down in front of Kakashi, almost always sported a happy smile or a sneaky smirk, didn’t show any signs of any sort of distress unless he was grading papers.

Maybe it was him who was the problem, said the voice at the back of his head.

When Iruka finally wakes and collects his bearings, he didn’t recognise who Kakashi is for a moment - terrifying - but the second it connects, his frown melts into the most lovesick smile Kakashi has ever seen - that hadn’t been his own reflection. Irkua hiccups, rubbing at his eyes, he says it was just a memory, of the night his parents died. And Kakashi’s frown deepens.

He goes on to say how it happens once every six months now, but for some reason, Kakashi was there too this time. And it just, just really hurt. Kakashi takes his hand, rubs his thumb over the scars adorning Iruka’s hand, “I’m here,” is all he can think to say.

Who accidentally punched the other in their sleep:

The moment that inspired Kakashi to print all of those posters was when Iruka had ended up cocooning himself with all the bed sheets. When Kakashi went to gently tug a few over his shivering body, he was given a black eye by a sleep talking Iruka, the last words Kakashi can remember before succumbing to the knock-out punch were “try that again you fucker.”

Iruka thinks the whole thing to be some stupid dream, albeit a hilarious dream.

Who can’t keep their hands to themself:

This is getting redundant, It’s hands down Kakashi Hatake for most touchy feelsy partner in the whole damn world.

#kakairu #welcome to ninja dad hell

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