#haven't written these two in a while!

[sionisjaune]

22!

[setting asks]

"So, I used to play here when I was little. With Cisca. I guess Dad didn't keep it up since we, like, grew up." Lando just barely fits under the roof of the treehouse, but Carlos has to hunch over so that he doesn't hit his head.

"I like it," says Carlos, even though he can't possibly like it. It's dirty and some of the floorboards have rotted through, and fingers of light shine through the holes in the walls. "Hey, watch out for that--"

Lando jerks his head around to find what he should watch out for, and backs directly into a giant cobweb. The instant he feels the threads on his neck, his entire body feels like it's crawling with insects. Carlos rushes forwards.

"Lando! Lando, calm down." Carlos pins Lando's limbs to his sides with an arm around his body. Lando didn't realize how bad he was freaking out. His eyes sting like he's going to cry. Oh God, he's going to cry.

He squirms in Carlos's grip. "Is it on me? Is it on me? Get it off. Get it off."

Carlos tightens his grip and rakes his fingers calmly through Lando's hair. "It's gone. Just a little spider."

"A spider?" Lando shouts. There are probably more on him. It probably laid eggs in his hair--

Carlos presses his lips to Lando's hair. He wouldn't kiss Lando's hair if there were spider eggs in it. "It's gone now."

[smile-files]

nickel and balloon stuff from spring on the breakfast!!! i'm keeping in mind that in the previous episode, both of them were under the impression that their friendship wasn't real...

in a way, ii3 balloon is a lot like late ii3 cabby. of course, balloon did something indisputably immoral (manipulate and exploit others), and cabby only did something thought to be immoral (keep and use files about her fellow contestants) -- but both did something wrong and had to subsequently undergo a disproportionate amount of abuse and malignment for it, ending up with them being apologetic and submissive to avoid any chance of being framed as bad again. the biggest difference is that cabby has internalized the guilt others have attributed to her, while balloon largely hasn't -- he understands the concept of rolling with the punches for the sake of keeping good connections, but he doesn't believe he deserves it.

nickel brushes off ii2 a LOT this episode. to rid himself of his guilt regarding that time, he necessarily has to delegitimize the hatred he felt towards balloon then, thus also ridding balloon of his guilt. he expresses this all vaguely, choosing to remember ii2 fondly and saying off-hand that its baggage should be laughed off -- implying that balloon has been forgiven. reasonably, balloon is happy that nickel seems to actually believe he's changed for the better, so initially this makes him happy.

of course, though, it becomes clear that nickel just wants to shove his own actions under the rug, and balloon reasonably gets pissed off. nickel treated balloon and suitcase like complete garbage in ii2, and balloon clearly hasn't forgotten that.

"it keeps things easy." it keeps things easy to roll with the punches, to endure nickel's abuse and accept his sudden friendship. note, also, that nickel is still placing the blame on balloon: he's saying that balloon didn't want to "make things better", as if nickel and balloon ever having a rift was entirely balloon's fault, and his problem to fix.

and as we can see, nickel still hasn't fully forgiven balloon for ii1. as i've discussed before, nickel seems to secretly feel incredible guilt about how he treated balloon in ii2 (which is why he goes to such lengths to repress the whole memory of it) -- but that guilt is about the way in which he expressed his disdain and distrust of balloon, not those opinions themselves, nor the motivations for them. this is all very interesting, then -- if he still believes balloon can't change from his old, bad self, why did nickel start being friends with him at all?

i think a large part of it is his projection onto balloon. nickel sees himself in balloon: someone who screwed up big-time and isn't able to become a better person after that (according to nickel). we tend to gravitate to people similar to us, after all. i wouldn't be surprised if nickel was also trying to overcompensate for his hostility towards balloon in ii2 by being very friendly with him in ii3, thereby helping him forget that he was ever hostile to him at all.

the most fascinating thing to me about balloon and nickel's relationship is how impersonal it is for balloon. he seems to value what nickel's affection represents rather than nickel himself -- and it represents that he's been forgiven. anyone who saw balloon and nickel's conflict in ii2, which was a product of balloon's nastiness in ii1 and nickel's subsequent inability to forgive that nastiness, would likely come to accept balloon and forgive him themselves if they then saw nickel being friendly with him -- because nickel is the epitome of the ii contestants' anger at him, and nickel of all people (seemingly) forgiving him would imply that he's really changed. the relationship is almost entirely a symbol in that regard. i don't think balloon has much residual guilt about is actions in ii1 -- he feels like he's adequately addressed them and changed -- but nickel having a positive relationship would be helpful in affirming that stance and proving to himself that he really has changed.

i wouldn't say it's cruel of balloon to keep this relationship going on under that pretense, but it is backhanded, and it helps explain why he was ever willing to accept nickel's friendliness unchallenged. he wanted his crimes to finally be laid to rest once and for all, and keeping nickel on good terms with him would let that happen. people would finally shut up about it. up until now, nickel wasn't explicitly denying his past cruelty towards balloon anyway, so balloon would be able to ignore that he neglected to ever bring it up; now, though, nickel is denying not only what he did to balloon but also to suitcase, which balloon is not able to tolerate. now that he's confronted nickel about that though, nickel snaps back with his condemnation of what balloon did in ii1, thereby uprooting the social stasis balloon had been able to maintain precisely because nickel refused to bring anything up before. in a way, then, balloon is purposefully shoving the past under the rug, just like nickel is.

we can't forget, though, that nickel has his own complex about fearing that he's incapable of change and incapable of forming positive, genuine relationships with people. balloon is essentially revealing that, in a way, he wasn't really friends with nickel -- at least not in the way nickel wished and fooled himself into thinking they were. if balloon truly were friends with nickel like that, then that would mean that balloon had forgiven him for his cruelty in ii2, and perhaps that he really has changed... but no. balloon hasn't forgiven him. why should he? nickel never apologized -- and given how he never apologized, it's impossible that he could've changed anyway: nickel doesn't want to apologize because that means addressing his guilt and allowing himself to feel it. he wants the forgiveness to be handed to him on a silver platter, without him having to do all of the painful work, and he's incredibly upset when it isn't. he wants to not be a bad person, but in order to do that, he has to feel like one, and he really doesn't want to. he hates who he was and doesn't want to associate with it at all.

(note how it's the suitcase robot who says "you can say sorry" when nickel says that nothing can be done about making things better...)

there's clearly an immeasurable amount of resentment these two have been harboring for each other throughout this season, which they'd only been hiding for the sake of fooling themselves into thinking they've changed (nickel) or thinking that others think they've changed (balloon). and now that they've let themselves explode with anger, partly related to the lies they'd been telling themselves falling apart, they yell at each other and balloon drops nickel down a hole!

ah, balloon and nickel's relationship... it's bizarre, it's toxic, it's convoluted, it's shady, and it's incredibly sad. i'm glad i'm revisiting ii3, especially this episode -- i used to be utterly baffled by nickel's writing, particularly in spring on the breakfast, but now it makes complete sense to me. also, i used to think balloon was entirely the victim in this relationship, while now i know that he has his own faults and own baggage in that regard. it's weird -- they hate each other, but at the same time they're dying to be liked by one another. god i love these freaks...

[th3archivisst]

Thinking about Dream and Hob again!! It's dreamling week so my previous posts are getting attention and that has reinstated my feelings about them. Therefor, lil ficlet I'm making up as I go because they are very sweet

-

A week after meeting his mysterious stranger for the first time in far too long, Hob is still giddy with happiness. His students see it, he knows, and it's impacting how well his lectures go, but he can't bring himself to care.

His thoughts keep drifting to that smile, the damn smile that erased any and all resentment he may have felt for being stood up in 1989.

So naturally, his dreams have drifted in a more positive, if dark and mysterious, direction. He dreams of his stranger almost every night, whether he remembers it or not. The times he does remember lighten his step for hours on end, contentment buzzing in his heart every time he remembers that his stranger said they would meet again soon.

And meet again soon they do, although not how Hob envisioned it.

He had picked up lucid dreaming quite a while ago, so any dreams he had tended to be a reflection of whatever he had thought about before bed. This time is no different.

The bed underneath him is warm and soft, the stranger in his arms relaxed and smiling. They're both still dressed, unlike some other dreams Hob has had, but he's content with that. The closeness is enough, more than enough.

Conversation isn't particularly prevalent in these dreams, the man and the miracle happy in the quiet moments they carve out for themselves. The few sentences they do exchange are ones Hob treasures more than the life he so cherishes. This time is no different.

Really, Hob should've caught on sooner.

Brown eyes gaze into diamond that had softened into coal, and his stranger spoke.

"You still do not know my name, Hob Gadling."

Hob tilts his head.

"No. You've always seemed a bit beyond names." He smiles, a similar tug pulling at his dear stranger's lips.

"Dream." The man murmurs, a vulnerability Hob hasn't seen before painting the words with light. Confused, Hob chuckles.

"Yes, I'm quite aware I'm dreaming."

His stranger shakes his head.

"My name, Hob."

Hob blinks.

Then narrows his eyes and sits up.

"Wait, I'm dreaming. So did my brain just... make up a name for you? I mean, it fits, but it's not real, is it?" His confusion only amplifies when he sees the amusement in his stranger's - Dream's? - eyes. "What?"

"There is no such thing as 'just a dream', Hob. This isn't imaginary, I'd have thought you knew that by now."

Before Hob can formulate a response, Dream leans up and presses their mouths together gently.

The smile he gives Hob is so fond that his heart hurts. What hurts more, however, is the sound of his alarm as it jerks him from his slumber.

Needless to say, the next time Hob Gadling will dream of his Dream, he will have very many questions.

[fraudulent-cheese]

I think im actually going to change who wins in my team escope tdwt au?

Originally Noah was going to win and alenoah was gonna be the final 2, but it felt both like a disservice to Heather's character who does have development over the course of the season and it wasn't super compelling to me (she's way more invested in the competition than Noah is + my personal agenda of making Alejandro loose the competition in every single AU i write) + Noah winning just not making for a satisfying ending

Heather in this AU would end up in a similar "previous antagonist becomes antihero due to a bigger vilain popping up" position as she does in canon, but it's combined with her making a genuine friend on the show in Harold; she's shown in the best light she's ever been shown on the show and while a good chunk of the audience is supporting Noah for the finale, she still has a decent crowd of supporters.

It's also my personnal mission to make Alejandro loose in every Total Drama AU i write apparently, and him loosing the tie-breaker is perfect for angst. Also i've seen my fair share of tdwt alenoah rewrites and none of them have included both in the final 3 tie-breaker so it would be fun to explore, with Noah only standing a chance against Alejandro thanks to his dodging ability and wanting to put an end to their endless pining...

It could go two ways - either Noah wins the Tie-Breaker or Alejandro wins the tie-breaker.

Noah at this point in the competition is sure of three things:

Alejandro's a very competitive guy, with a flare for the dramatics

Him and Noah have had been semi-friendly semi-fighting all competition, with it dipping more into a rivalry as of late (the thing keeping him trying after Eva's elimination)

And based on both of these facts:

Alejandro's most likely looking for a dramatic victory over him. Noah's not willing to give him that.

So, mid-spar, Noah's trying to solve this conflict once and for all - Not his brightest idea, but he's joined Total Drama so he's made worse decisions - and opts to be genuine while dodging Alejandro's hits. His earnestness does break through eventually, and confesses to him. They're both standing near the edge of the fighting platform, and are both tired as hell from the previous challenge.

That is the only reason Noah considers as the one behind Alejandro leaning in and kissing him.

After this is where the ending would diverge depending on who ends up in the final two: Alejandro would win by Noah falling into the water right afterwards on his own accord, and Noah would win by tricking Alejandro into falling into the shark infested water.

either making it to the final 2 doesn't change the outcome of Heather winning in the end, but it would change the banter and Helpers; Heather would pick Sierra (who got over Heather booting her back in Paris because she's "a sucker for redemption arcs") and Leshawna (who's friendly with her in this AU) while the boys would pick a combination of the third placer + one of their closest friendship on the show (Courtney and Noah for Alejandro, Alejandro and Izzy for Noah). Heather still ends up in the cage trap and is genuinly pissed at this, but Harold and Leshawna (through the power of friendship) snap her out of it with a similar line as in canon (that she's a better person now and either 1. more deserving of the win for them if she's against Noah or 2. the 'good guy' if she's going against Alejandro) and manages to climb up the volcano.

If Heather's against Noah, she catches up to him due to his garbage athletisism and if it's Alejandro, it's the cast catching onto his distaste of the "Al" nickname and using it against him (probably Owen and Izzy, the latter joining in for shits and giggles). If it's against Noah it'll be a roundabout way of having a friendship finale, it's just the good guy with friends vs the less good guy who's gotten better thanks to friendship and self reflection, and if it's Alejandro and Heather it's just bad guy vs good guy, more like in canon :p they could have a stupid dramatic swordfight with the dummies that Alejandro looses like an idiot and it gets him slipping to the volcano's base (because it would be a funny visual).

The volcano still explodes at the end, but i don't know if i want the "alejandro gets partially burnt" ending or "everyone (but the million dollars) is fine" ending yet. idk

[binahfaes]

damn rwch discourse on the dashboard?? in 2024??? 👀

[openphrase123]

giving myself a little treat by writing some of this thing that i will not post for approximately five hundred million years :3

[thus-spoke-lo]

“I’m just gonna put this One Piece episode on in the background for research” is the lie I tell myself before I zone out listening to Corazon's dub VA and end up just staring at my laptop screen for like three episodes.

[aquillwieldingmagpie]

I don't know WHY, but for some reason I've had a vision of a Golden Ratio Slay the Princess AU.

I genuinely don't know why, maybe it's because of Ratio's owl motif and one of 2.1 quests being named A Cat Among Pigeons (in reference to Agatha Christie and possibly Aventurine's role) and then later owning three black cakecats even if he's mostly associated with peacocks? Maybe it's because I somehow associate Aventurine's many masks and personas we see over the time we know him with the Shifting Mound's many perspectives and how both her and him are so confident their respective foil won't kill or betray them at the end of everything (and are even fine with it if it does happen), how both the Princess and Aventurine always, always fight for freedom and are denied it until the very end of their story when they finally are granted a true escape through their own efforts and an outside force be it through being show the way or death? How they're both connected to a being so much larger than them but have no say over it (the Princess being seen as only a part/perspective of the Shifting Mound even if she can be found at her heart, Aventurine was blessed by Gaiathra Triclops and ultimately none of that did them any good).

Or maybe it's because I can practically hear this line from the Princess coming out of Aventurine's mouth to Ratio the more close he is to knowing who the real Aventurine is after I woke up in a cold sweat from a nap to write this out:

"Have you figured out what you want to do yet, or are you going to keep trying to find a center that doesn't exist?"

(The Princess saying this about herself and how she's the heart of the Shifting Mound and hasn't really been herself or stopped playing a role through the entirety of the game, but in this context Aventurine saying that there is no 'Kakavasha' or 'No.35' or even 'Aventurine' anymore, just the many masks he wears even though he admits to himself he hasn't changed)

I have no idea if this is anything though or if it would fit their characters at all though. Maybe it's just a silly vision I'll write out one day, maybe not.

[soap-ify]

hello (going to pretend that i didn't disappear AGAIN)

[smolmakerel]

Life after the Ghostface killings in New York City was somewhat peaceful. As peaceful as it could be with the entire internet hounding you that you were going to end up becoming a serial killer like your dad.

If Sam had it her way, she would ban the internet. Because, honestly? Most of them were a bunch of incels (whatever that even meant. Sam overheard Mindy saying Richie was an incel and assumed it to mean a shitty person - which, true) who needed a positive social life.

And incels were why Sam usually stayed inside nowadays, because she didn't want to deal with shitty people trying to kill her. Again. For the third time.

Literally isolating herself led to the worst possible outcome.

For Tara.

"Um, Sam?"

Sam didn't bother putting the impact driver in her hand down. She whipped around and grinned at her bemused and annoyed sister coming into the living room.

Tara eyed the power tool in Sam's hand, the few screws poking out of her teeth, and the halfway-put-together hammock limp on the floor.

"Is there a reason why you're drilling holes in the wall?" Tara deadpanned, pulling her arms tight across her chest.

Sam looked down at the hammock as if it was obvious. It was kind of obvious. No, it was really obvious. The hammock was still half drilled into the wall and patiently waiting to be stuck across the room to stretch out. She opened her mouth to let the screws fall into her palm.

"I'm hanging a hammock."

"Why?"

"Because?"

"At 2 in the morning?" Sam went to open her mouth to defend herself, but Tara quickly narrowed her eyes and spoke up again. "When I have a final worth 40% of my grade at 9 in the morning?"

Sam slowly closed her jaw.

Tara held her angry glare for exactly 10 seconds before her shoulders dropped as she sighed. She trudged to the chair and curled up in it, patiently watching Sam watching her. Sam perked up at the silent "go on" from her sister.

"It was supposed to be a surprise for you," Sam admitted. She began to stretch the hammock to the other wall and used her stud finder on the wall. She sighed. "I guess I lost track of time."

Tara raised an unimpressed eyebrow. "So you haven't eaten all day?"

Sam laughed at that, nearly slipping and drilling her hand to the wall. Tara jolted at that but calmed down once Sam continued to laugh.

"That's my line, Tara." Sam tugged on the newly drilled hammock and sighed once she was satisfied it wasn't coming down. "Do you like it?"

"I think I'd like it even more if I didn't have to wake up during the installation."

Ok. Fine. Whatever.

Sam dramatically rolled her eyes and discarded the impact driver and stud finder on the half of the couch the hammock didn't cover. She flopped onto the hammock with a groan, hands behind her head.

"I'll just use it then," Sam teased with her eyes closed, "since someone doesn't appreciate honest work."

She could feel the side eye Tara was giving her, and she couldn't help but feel slightly panicked.

Did Tara really not like the gift? Was it over the top? Did it remind Tara too much of... before?

Before Sam could mentally degrade herself about how she should've known better than to burden Tara with this gift, the hammock rocked.

Sam snapped her eyes open at the tipping of the hammock and immediately threw her foot down to the floor for stability. Tara, from Sam's sudden movement, fell the rest of the way into the hammock.

Tara wriggled around, trying to get comfortable, and Sam laid as still as she could. As soon as Tara relaxed, almost completely on top of her older sister, Sam wrapped her arms around Tara and squeezed.

"Gotcha!" Sam said with a kiss to the crown of her head.

Tara grumbled, exhausted.

It was quiet after that. Sam rubbed soothing circles into Tara's back and hummed whatever song came to mind.

"Sammy?" Tara's tired voice slurred into Sam's shoulder. Sam hummed. "I love it; thank you so, so much. I feel like a kid again."

Sam swallowed. Wow. No one had ever really shown appreciation for the things she gave them. To hear how much Tara loved it made Sam love the gift too.

"It's nothing," Sam tried to downplay how happy she was, but the pitch in her voice gave it away.

Tara nuzzled deeper into her sister's bodywarmth, and Sam reached out to snag the wooly blanket from the couch beneath the hammock and toss it over them. Humming, Tara fully relaxed.

"Dos oruguitas," Sam softly sang, tucking Tara's hair behind her ear, "enamoradas.¹"

"Pasan sus noches," Tara mumbled, not even bothering to try and sing right now, "y madrugadas.²"

Sam snorted. Her foot began to lightly kick against the ground to sway the hammock.

The whir of the heater drowned out the honking outside of people rushing to get home and out of the way of the incoming snow storm.

Tara's shoulders hitched, drawing Sam's attention to them. Her eyes went wide when warm tears began to soak her shirt collar.

"Tara? Mi mariposa, ¿qué ocurre?" Sam lifted the two of them up enough so she could wipe away the tears flowing down Tara's cheeks. Each tear was a punch to the gut, and Sam wanted nothing more than to lightly assault whatever made Tara cry. "¿Estás bien?³"

Tara shook her head. "No es nada.⁴ I was thinking about our backyard. We used to do this all the time." She laughed wetly, full of tears. "I didn't know how much I missed it until now."

So... Sam needed to lightly assault herself. Got it.

At least she could make up for all of those afternoon naps in their backyard hammock she missed now.

"Me too," Sam agreed with a smile. She cupped Tara's face and kissed her forehead, and Tara sank into the action with a tired sigh. "Now -" Sam pulled back with a mock stern glare -"you're going back to sleep. You have your final in the morning. Why are you even awake right now?"

"What? You're the one that -"

"Shh, less talking more sleeping."

Tara huffed, but it sounded suspiciously like muffled laughter.

Sam pulled Tara back down and continued to rub her back and push her foot to move the hammock. The soothing motions combined with Sam's warmth lulled Tara into an easy sleep.

But Sam never stopped rocking her foot. She pulled the blanket higher over both of them before hugging her sister.

With Tara now sleeping, Sam silently dissolved into a mess of tears. She was glad Tara wasn't seeing this moment of weakness from her. What would she think of Sam if she knew Sam cried so easily over her?

"Te amo, Tara," she said as she gathered Tara as close as she could, until the world shifted and the puzzle completed. She was whole again. "Te amo mucho, mi corazón.⁵"

Sam closed her eyes and fell asleep with her entire world in her arms.

— ● — ○ — ● — ○ —

1: Two little caterpillars in love

2: They spend their nights and early mornings

3: My butterfly, what's going on? Are you ok?

4: It's nothing.

5: I love you, Tara. I love you so much, my heart.

[passthroughtime]

yagami, WHY do you have to be such a bitch around kuwana. i'm going to strangle you.

(P.S.: he didn't tell kuwana that tesso said not to feel bad about it. obviously.)

[jafndaegur]

laugh away the sadness in the summertime

Rating: Teen

Ship: Lan Xichen x Jiang Cheng

Song: Woven Fates by Holostars Tempus

Word Count: 5.1K

Gift for tuples on AO3 for the @mdzs-mixtape

Summary:

“Perhaps, though I can't say I'm any less angry than I usually am. Just better at not unleashing it wantonly.” Jiang Cheng kicked an offensive clump of grass. “I've learned though, on matters that were purposefully kept from my knowledge that I can't blame myself for not knowing, y’know?”

Lan Xichen regarded him quietly without answering. Could it really be that simple?

“At least that's what I think. But perhaps I'm not making much sense.” Jiang Cheng winced.

“Not at all,” Lan Xichen smiled gently. “If anything, you’ve given me something to ponder. Something that makes my previous involvements less…bleak.”

Jiang Cheng smiled. “I’m happy I could help, Zewu-jun.”

Lan Xichen found himself taken aback. Jiang Cheng's smile wasn't something sardonic or sneering like he'd seen in the past. But once again, it was a hint at a youth he'd seen long ago. It was hesitant and boyish, a refreshing sight after so many memories of fox-curled lips plastered to the sparks against snow.

Read more on AO3!

[ranger-kellyn]

good news: figured out the general direction of the yangvik week fic i wanna write!

bad news: brain has switched gears and decided that if i don't write suki having a moment laying next to sokka the first night at the air temple after getting away from the boiling rock i'll mcfucking DIE

[newbornwhumperfly]

12 and 24 for Morja and Brax!!!

ahhh, thank you for these questions, @whump-tr0pes! 💖

~

12: Do they have any affection for eachother? How do they show it?

Morja and Brax hold a great amount of affection for one another, as their relationship blossoms from friendship into...much more (though whether or not either of them are aware of just how much more is a matter of discussion).

Morja shows his affection for Brax by offering them a lot of practical support when they are tired or stressed, handling things they might miss (like food or tea or an opportunity to take a break), making sure their setting in comfortable, and that their needs are addressed with swiftness and care. Essentially, ensuring that they can rely on him for things.

(Morja is also secretly so, so, so touch-hungry, he could cuddle and hug and kiss Brax for a whole day if they wished to grace him with such, as long as they want, whenever, however. He would never ask for it but it's so nice. More positive physical touch please.)

Brax shows their affection for Morja through praise. They often see Morja's efforts - how attentive and precise he is - in ways most people do not. Ever since they took note of how responsive he is to positive feedback, they do their best to not let him become invisible in his effort, ensuring that he is acknowledged with warmth and respect.

They also encourage him to express himself by listening to him and giving him the space to respond and emote however he wills, because Morja doesn't get a lot of that.

24: How do these two interact with eachother in public vs. in private?

In public, the two of them tend to be quite conscientious about keeping their interactions on the formal side, especially Morja (because this is technically a workplace if you think about it). Warm but not intimate, they don't touch eachother. Morja because he would never presume to initiate touch and Brax because they don't particularly like touching in front of people (and they assume it would make Morja uncomfortable).

In private, they both feel like they can...let their guards down a lot around one another. Brax doesn't feel the need to be so in control, Morja doesn't feel the need to be so hypervigilant, so as a result they find a lot of peace in comfortable quiet. Being able to rest and be still, while being close, being seen, being held.

(Private settings also furnish a lot of conversation? Brax prompting Morja to speak more than he ever does just by listening to him and being interested in his responses and his ideas and his questions. Morja prompting Brax to speak with passion, at length, in all their nerdy glory, and his focus is so rewarding. You know that poem that's like one of you listens and talking is delicious and then sometimes one of you talks and listening gets delicious? Yeah, that.)

~

questions come from this prompt!

[magentagalaxies]

i need to keep working on my finals but i high key just want to watch the producers again

[kivaember]

random o'keeffe/flatwell drabble go!

3:43.

The numbers blurred slightly in O'Keeffe's vision, loitering at the bottom right corner of his computer screen as he continued his methodical work. It wasn't anything urgent, and he could do it tomorrow in the office if he wanted, and it was beneath him anyways since this was junior analyst work, but the night was long and dark and the thoughts in his mind too loud.

Staring at numbers, scouring through profiles and names and linking together Mr What's-his-face with Mrs. So-and-So and the embezzled funds from This-or-That project or Thingiemajig budget that were spent on luxury yacht #54 or sunk into a giant swimming pool tiled with rare marble from Pluto and the water coloured crimson from heavily diluted recycled Coral (that is toxic it's toxic it's toxic but do the more rich than sensible executives care no no of course not), weaving through the byzantine corruption that spun the corporate wheels, that fed the kleptocracy that masquaraded as their democratic capitalistic society, all the same shit over and over, until O'Keeffe didn't even bother writing unique reports anymore he just copy and pasted names, dates and what luxury item was purchased that day.

It was menial work. It was tedious work. It was work that forced him to focus and so was the only thing that kept him sane, nowadays.

3:59.

This particular case he was working on was very minor, yet the executive involved was a little cleverer than most. He understood the concept of money laundering for one, probably because of his relatively junior rank, and so couldn't relay on his gold citizenship and executive status to protect him if Arquebus wanted to make an example. The guy had a side business of cakes for dogs or something. He laundered his money through there. It should've stood out like a red flag because cakes? For dogs? As a business?

But this was the society they lived in. Earth was a ridiculous place, utterly delusional and disjointed from the wider galaxy, where cold, harsh reality stepped on the necks of every day humans. There was a reason so many people ran the immigration gauntlet to get onto Earth, even if it was as a working class citizen. The great cult built around Earth was a siren-song, and even O'Keeffe had fallen for it all those years ago.

Still, even with hindsight, he'd make the same choice. If he hadn't accepted Arquebus's offer, he wouldn't even be here right now. He would've succumbed to Coral-Burn, and if it hadn't killed him outright from organ failure, then he'd be reduced to a witless vegetable, his grey matter chewed up and consumed by the crytallised Coral in his implants and his nervous system. Horrible fate. Awful. O'Keeffe was a stupid human through and through: he'd jump through so many hoops to keep his mind and life intact.

4:04.

This executive wasn't much different, but he just had more expensive tastes for what was 'survivable' for him. O'Keeffe wasn't going to submit this report, in all honesty. The guy was small fry. He hadn't stolen as much as the board director did for his three mistresses and that 'love basement' of his. Still entertaining to read into this cake for dogs business though. Really, who came up with these ideas?

4:05.

"O'Keeffe."

He blinked, the name a sudden intrusion into the focused zen he had fallen into. He half-turned, peering over his shoulder to see a silohuette standing at his office door, leaning against the frame with their arms crossed. He couldn't make out their face, but he could tell that they only had a shirt on, open, and not making them decent in the least.

"Flatwell," O'Keeffe rasped. "What're you doing up?"

"Fetching you, apparently," Flatwell sighed, pushing off the door frame and walking over to him.

O'Keeffe didn't move as Flatwell stood behind him and rested his hands on his shoulders, deft fingers slowly kneading into the tense muscles there. Despite himself, he slowly relaxed, Flatwell knowing exactly where the knots and tension were, ruthlessly coaxing it out.

"A dog bakery," Flatwell murmured after a lull. "I've seen it all now."

"Money laundering business," O'Keeffe explained. "Some small fry executive. Nothing important."

"But important enough to keep you up at-" Flatwell paused, checking the clock in the bottom right corner of the screen. "-four in the morning."

O'Keeffe grunted.

Flatwell pressed his thumbs on either side of O'Keeffe's nape, slowly running parallel to his vertebrae. He could feel the skin pull slightly against the metal implants embedded into the skin there, evidence of the life-saving augmentation upgrade that countered the Coral-Burn sizzling through his grey matter, even now: contained, but not gone.

"Bad night, is it?" Flatwell asked mildly.

"Something like that," O'Keeffe muttered.

"Hm." Flatwell patted his shoulders. "C'mon. Reading about dog bakeries won't do you much good."

"Failing to sleep won't do me much either."

"Then we'll fuck or something," Flatwell said dismissively. "Or, if you really want to be productive, you could let me access the restricted areas in Arquebus's database using your priv-"

"No."

Flatwell clicked his tongue, but the smile in his voice was audible: "Damn. Foiled again. Well, since my seduction attempts aren't swaying you..."

He drew away, this time pressing his palm against O'Keeffe's hair, ruffling it like he was a miscreant child.

"...how about coffee?" he asked, after O'Keeffe stoically waved his hand away. He lifted it up and waggled his fingers temptingly. "That favourite cafe of yours should be open by now. Let's get something."

"You hate going anywhere early," O'Keeffe pointed out, but he locked his computer and stood up, grunting when his joints popped loudly. "Ergh."

"I do, but I can't sleep while you're skulking around like a convict," Flatwell drawled. "And I'm up now."

And Flatwell struggled to go back to sleep once he was woken up, O'Keeffe knew from experience (had endured several kicks to the shin when he'd accidentally jostled Flatwell awake at some unholy hour of the night). Despite being able to sleep, which most augmented humans struggled with, Flatwell was woken up on a hair trigger on most days. It made them an incompatible pair as bed fellows.

Yet, they still kept sharing that bed anyways, despite O'Keeffe being who he was and Flatwell being who he was. He was a spy, and O'Keeffe his consensual mark, and together they tied themselves into a relationship that they knew wasn't sustainable but kept feeding anyways because, well...

There weren't many Old Gen left. They were a dying breed, and in Arquebus alone he and Flatwell were the only ones. There was no one out there who understood them like they did each other, and Flatwell was also a very experienced honeypot who really knew how to put his silver tongue to good use (both literally and figuratively), so who did it hurt to toss a few crumbs of info his way, to turn a blind eye to his snooping or stealing a few schedules for Arquebus's supply routes between colonies?

He scratched Flatwell's back and he scratched his. It was a mutual, professional arrangement between two fellow wetworkers, and if there was some selfish indulgence on the side, then hey, they were only human after all.

(And just as delusional as the rest of the people on Earth.)