#i could have gone to see the movie later but since the posters were limited edition i didn’t want them to sell out

[thecalvinistkat]

I went to Transformers One just to get the Sonic Movie 3 poster but couldn’t stay for the movie because of my work schedule…

This is why the Sonic The Hedgehog fandom has a bad reputation lol

[wastelandcth]

best years - cth

summary: dovey and calum go through a rough patch, leading dovey to believe she gave up her best years. 

author’s notes: hello everyone...this is angst and part one out of two. good luck! inspired by this tik tok. 

warnings: angst and sad overall

masterlist || request || more doves

I’ve got a million reasons to hesitate and baby a million more are added every day.

Dovey had always been there for Calum. She'd been there through the drama that came along with being in a well-known band. She'd been there through the highs and the lows, through the rumors and controversies. Dovey had stuck through everything and every day it seemed like more and more came into light, like the man she had fallen in love with became a stranger. Suddenly, Calum was no longer her best friend who would tell her everything, he was the stranger in her bed who hardly was around. 

The fight hadn't been intentional. Most of the time, the Doves would talk anything out. Whether it be a disagreement over something small like where the pillows on the couch should go or whether it was something big like how their lives would be affected by the latest album release. This time, it was different, stubbornness and yells meant that Dovey found herself in a lonely bed while Calum locked himself away in his office. And with only a few days left before Calum left for tour with no plan on when or if Dovey would join him, the Doves went to sleep in different beds. 

It had started when he'd left for tour. Usually, Dovey would drive him to the airport and stay until the band's flight was called and she had given him one last hug until they were reunited again. This time, Calum had suggested saying their goodbyes at home that it would be the best since there would probably be a lot of fans at the airport. Although she wasn't too please with their break from tradition, Dovey found herself hugging him on their doorstep, whispering a soft I love you before the man she loved stepped into the car that had been waiting. 

The next time Dovey realized something had changed, she had been on facetime with him. He'd seemed distant, his eyes drifting off from the screen and his interest in whatever conversation he and Dovey were having being torn away at some joke Michael had told. Dovey thought he might've noticed something was off when she had hung up on the call, hoping he'd call her back and she could claim it was an accident, but her phone never rang again that night. It felt like the harder Dovey tried to connect with the man who was an ocean away living his dream, the more she realized exactly how disconnected they were becoming. 

I spent so much of me on you I forgot who I became.

The longer that Calum was away on tour, the more Dovey found herself. Days that would've been spent alone in a foreign city while Calum was in a radio gig were now spent with friends in the city she'd learn to call home. Mornings, where she’d usually wake up in a cramped bunk next to a grumpy Calum, were spent taking Duke on a hike and clearing her head. 

One day after she'd gotten home from the grocery store, a pang in her heart threatened to ruin the good mood she'd been in when she saw Luke's partner post a picture of them all in front of some monument miles away. But with a shake of the head and a double-tap on the screen, Dovey put some music on and danced the tears away. It wasn't until later that night when her mind was awake that she clicked on the picture again, finding those brown eyes she'd fallen in love with two years ago staring back at her. She could tell something was different, that the smile he had on didn't reach his eyes and his eyes didn't shine like they normally did when he was having the time of his life. But things were different now, and Dovey wasn't going to let her life revolve around him as she did before. If he wanted to talk to her as much as she wanted to talk to him, he would've called. He had her number and for some unknown reason, had decided to not use it. 

Finally found a reason to walk away. 

The final straw had been a picture. Dovey had been used to seeing fan meetings on her social media, smiling fans grateful to have been able to meet Calum and talk to him for even just a second. But the second a video of him had started circling around the internet and made its way onto her screen, Dovey had just about had enough of the stupid shit Calum had been putting her through the last two months. She understood being too busy for at least a phone call or text. Touring was hard work and Calum was known for pushing himself to the limit. She understood wanting space from one another that maybe this tour was something Calum needed to do on his own in order to clear his mind and think about what their relationship meant to him. But the one thing Dovey wouldn't stand by his side when he was the one that had been telling people she was the one who hadn't wanted to join him. She wasn't going to stand by his side while he told his bandmates and the rest of the world that she hadn't wanted to join him because she was being dramatic. If Calum wanted drama, Dovey could be dramatic. 

The house that I built you made it a mess. 

Dovey had been out of their house, the house that had been filled with memories of them and their love, for about two weeks now. Duke had joined her in the passenger seat of her car that sunny afternoon when she had stuffed all her belongings into the back seat and rode off out of the city. Her parent’s house that brought along the comfort and warmth she had been craving for months was a few hours away and far enough away that any reminders of Calum could be put aside. The small town she had left all those years ago brought her peace and gave her the space she needed from whatever waited for her back in LA, if anything even did wait for her. 

Her mother had met her in the driveway, a tight embrace and promises of better times made Dovey's heavy heart lighten up as she saw her childhood home still pretty much the same as the day she had left it. The living room still had candles everywhere and the tv was playing the same movie channel her mother loved to watch on her days off from work. The kitchen was still stocked with snacks and fruits that seemed too real to be fake. And the backyard was still a playground for any and every dog Dovey had brought home, even Duke who had settled on laying in a sunspot to nap. 

Her bedroom had brought on a new set of challenges, the posters on the walls and the albums on the shelves brought tears to her eyes as she saw those brown eyes looking back at her. He'd be back in their house soon. Dovey wondered how he'd react to find himself in an empty house. What he would think of when he saw the letter she had left him on the kitchen counter since at that point any attempt to call or text him was met with radio silence. He'd probably try to call her at that point, she hoped, but only to see where Duke was or he'd get Ashton to do it for him. Dovey wasn't too sure about anything when it came to Calum anymore. She wasn't sure if he would even care that she had left the gold band on the counter next to the letter or that she had left her keys to the house in the little ceramic tray they had painted on one of their dates so many months ago. 

I’m left with broken pieces can't help how I ran out of tears.

Two weeks. It had been two weeks since the tour had ended and Dovey hadn't heard from any of them. She hadn't heard from Calum since before she'd left the house almost a month ago and she hadn't even gotten a text message from Luke, who would update her on what had been going on during the tour. It was been one week since Dovey had run out of tears. One week since she had decided that leaving was the best option and that she had made the right choice. 

It had been a week since she realized just how much of herself she'd given away to Calum only to have nothing left for herself. It took her two weeks to realize that if he had wanted to talk to her, he would. If he had wanted to see her or even Duke for that matter, he would've driven to where she was. So when her tears were dry and the pain in her chest was nothing more than a dull pressure whenever she thought about him, she began to fix whatever broken pieces she could. 

It began when she packed away all the old posters that hung on her wall, the smile on every single one leaving her breathless like it always would when she saw it in person. The sparkle in his eyes bringing fresh tears to hers, tears that she would blink away and continue on with taking him out of her life. By the time her childhood bedroom was nothing more than the furniture and bare walls, Dovey felt lighter than she had in months. It didn't last long. As sleep called her name and her eyes closed, Dovey was brought back from whatever dream she was about to enter when the buzzing noise went off next to her head.

I'm sorry. 

I lost all my best years just missing my best years. past love burned out like a cigarette im free now baby all I regret are my best years. 

Sitting in the living room, watching back old family movies and nursing the drink in her cup, Dovey couldn't help but feel like an idiot. She'd given Calum the best years of her life. Gave him all the good times and shared the most wonderful moments with him all for him to leave her with silence and no explanations. She'd gone through the stages of grief, had tried to make her new life without his work, and then he had shoved his way back in with no warnings in the middle of the night. 

The text message hadn't been the only thing Calum had sent, no matter how hard Dovey had wanted it to be. He'd sent her a voice note, a five-minute ramble where his accent had gotten too thick for Dovey to try and decipher what he was saying through the tears and sniffling. He'd apologized for the silence, apologized for the lies, and even apologized for forcing the silence he'd caused from the rest of the band. But Dovey wasn't going to just let him into her life so easily, she wasn't going to let him in after the months of silence and heartbreak. She'd lost all her best years and she needed to find herself again before she could ever consider letting Calum have more of the best of her. 

taglist:  @hoodhoran​ @finelliine @moonlightcriess​ @dinosaursandsocks @mxgyver​ @calpops​ @karajaynetoday​ @notlukehemmo​ @calumrose​ @devilatmydoor​ @lyss-xo​ @lowkeyflop

[afictionaladventure16]

Upon the Sweetest Flower (Chris Evans x Daughter!Reader)

Chapter 6

Upon the Sweetest Flower Masterlist

Previously on Upon the Sweetest Flower... 

Warnings: Mentions of kidnapping

Word Count: 2,031

~ THEN ~ 

The local theatre was always packed on Friday nights. Families came for family movie nights, couples came for date nights, and sometimes people just came to enjoy a movie by themselves. Your father tried his best to make time for you when he was home from filming, he knew you were growing up and knew this time, especially during your teen years, was special. So, he’d take you to the movies, then to dinner and home for family game night. But this particular night was different, while you stood in line alongside your dad to get tickets, you could not help but notice a kid from school. 

But not just any kid. No, this kid was part of the popular group, he was also your lab partner and you’ve been crushing on him since the beginning of the semester. You watched as he stood off to the side of the ticket booth alongside his buddies. There were four of them in total, one of them played varsity football and the other two were wrestlers. They had been friends since middle school, but over the summer, Jacob, the one you were crushing on, had a huge glow up. Everyone noticed. He had gone to the gym all summer, training for varsity football to play alongside his friend. That’s when you began to take more of notice towards him and being his lab partner was a huge plus. 

“Y/N?” You snapped out of your thoughts and looked over at your dad. 

“What?” you asked with a slight annoyance in your voice. 

Chris gave you a confused look before shrugging it off, “pick the seats, hon,” he said softly as he gestured towards the screen. 

“Right,” you let out a deep breath. Your dad always let you pick the seats, but they were always the same, in the way back of the theatre and in the middle. Your dad never complained about your choice of seats. You stepped back for your dad to pay for the tickets, you glanced over to where Jacob was; thankful to see that he was still there in the same spot. 

“Y/N!” Quickly snapping out of your daze once again, you turn towards your dad. He had a disbelief expression on his face, gesturing you to follow him. You rolled your eyes and walked with him towards the concessions stand. “What is up with you today?” He asked sweetly as you stood a couple of feet away from him. 

“What do you mean?” you crossed your arms across your chest, every so often glancing towards the group. 

“You’re standing so far away and you’re constantly zoning out,” he stated as he pulled your arm gently to get you closer towards him. 

You groaned and yanked your arm away, “dad, stop. You’re embarrassing me.” 

“Embarrassing you? Sweetheart, what is going on? You never act this way,” Chris finally noticed you glancing towards the small group. His eyes watched your eyes gaze towards the young man and it all made sense. He let out a chuckle, although, to him, his heart was breaking. His baby girl was growing up and he couldn’t stop it. All he could do was embrace it. “I see what’s going on,” he stated catching your attention.

You looked at your father with wide eyes, “y-you do?” 

He nods, “I used to be your age once. I did the same thing when I had a crush on someone.” Chris knew he was worse, though. He would do the same thing, but he’d also be a bit worse than what his daughter was doing. But he would never tell her that. “If you learned anything from Uncle Scott, it would be how to flirt with boys.” 

“Dad, what are you trying to get at?” You questioned, your eyebrows perched up. 

“Do you want a slushie?” Your dad asked as he took his wallet out. 

“Of course, what I usually get.” 

“Alright, I’ll meet you inside the theatre in five minutes?” 

“W-what?” you were confused as to what he was doing. 

Your dad gestured towards the group with his eyes, “have fun,” he said with a wink. You watched your dad walk away to the concessions stand, his focus on the menu probably trying to figure out what he wanted to get. Letting out a shaky sigh you turn around and slowly make your way over Jacob. He spotted you when you were a couple of feet away, his eyes lit up and a smile stretched across his face. 

“Y/N!” He called out as he stepped away from the group to greet you. His friends didn’t seem bothered by his actions, they smiled softly before carrying on with their conversation. “What brings you here? O-other than the obvious,” he gestures towards the movie posters, causing you to let out a small chuckle. 

“I’m here with my dad,” you glanced over at your dad who was still in line. “He wanted to see the new Star Wars movie.” 

Jacob gave you a small nod, “just saw it with the guys.” He held up his hands, “I promise, I won’t spoil anything! But it’s a definite must-watch. You bring tissues?” 

“Tissues?” You asked in a surprised tone. “Who dies?” 

Jacob chuckles, “I’m just pulling your leg.” He gave you a small wink before clearing his throat. “So, you like Star Wars?” 

You chuckled, “how could I not when I have that nerd” you gestured towards your dad, “for a dad.” 

“So, you would be down for a Star Wars marathon?” Jacob nervously cleared his throat, scratching behind his neck as he glanced over to his friends. “I’m asking because my family is doing a Star Wars marathon in a couple of weeks and I usually invite the guys over and they invite their girlfriends and well if you wanted to come then you’re more than welcome to, but you don’t have to come if you don’t want to. That’s totally up to you, but it’d be nice to have you there-” 

You couldn’t help but chuckle at his nervousness, “I’ll be there.” Yet you weren’t sure if you should take the nervousness in his voice, the way he rambled on as a sign that he was into you.  It was something you definitely had to ask your mom or maybe even Uncle Scott later on. You glanced back over to where your dad was, he was making his way over to the theatre room. 

“Jacob, come on!” You heard a small girl’s voice, you turned around towards the doors and saw a young girl around the age of eight glaring at Jacob. She was clearly annoyed and clearly his little sister. 

“Crap! Um, I’ll see you at school?” He asked you. 

You nod, “of course! See you later!” You waved goodbye as he walked out of the building, but not before giving you a small smile and a wave. Once he was out of sight you let out a small squeal of glee, rushing over to the theatre room where your dad was waiting for you. Once in the room, you made your way up the steps to the back of the room where your dad was sitting watching the previews. He was already eating the popcorn he bought when he spotted you, giving you a small smile as you sat next to him. 

“So, how did it go?” He asked as a smirk played on his face. 

You blushed slightly before grabbing a handful of popcorn and stuffing some of it in your mouth, “good.” 

“Good good? Or just good? Or good, but not good and I should go out there and find this boy and beat his a-” 

“Dad!” You hissed in a hushed tone, glancing around, thankful that there really weren’t that many people in the room yet. “It was good, okay? Just good.” Chris just let out a small chuckle. “He invited me over his house for a Star Wars marathon.” 

“Like a date!?” Chris asked in disbelief. 

You rolled your eyes, “No, not a date. His friends and family will be there.” At least, you didn’t think it was a date. To you, it was just an invitation to watch movies… oh god, was it a date? Soon enough people began to pile into the room and your attention was drawn to the screen. 

~ NOW ~ 

You woke up with a jolt, bumping your head onto a hard surface. The sound of a motor running pierced through your ears as you tried to take in your surroundings, but it was too dark to see anything. A handkerchief was tied around your face to cover your mouth. Zipties on your wrists, in front of your body, limiting your movements. You felt around as best as you could, feeling the rough edges and carpet like flooring, you knew you were in the trunk of a car. Memories slowly began to resurface. Mr. Firth isn’t the man you thought he was and you had to escape. Your eyes began to sting, never imagining yourself in such a situation. Quickly, you began feeling around for the yellow string that will help you escape the trunk. “Come on,” you muttered to yourself as you searched around for it, but after searching every nook and cranny you had no luck. “Fuck,” you exclaimed. 

Your mind wandered; how long had you been asleep? Were people looking for you? How far away is he taking you? You had so many questions, one most importantly, why? 

Why did Mr. Firth choose you? Why was he making these decisions? You knew the way he looked at you, the way he chose you to speak certain lines. Lines you wished you had never recited, you just knew something about him was different. The way his eyes were filled with joy when you recited “death lies on her like an untimely frost” foreshadowing the events that would follow only in mere minutes, had he known then what he was planning? Was it then that he confirmed his plans in his head? You may never know. 

The sound of police sirens pierced through your ears, your heart leaped for joy. You were getting out of there. You felt the car slow down before coming to a stop with a small jolt. You tried your hardest to focus on the muffled voices that sounded like a radio, the voices slowly fading out. Mr. Firth must have turned the car radio down, giving you the advantage to listen. It felt like minutes before you heard anything, a muffled voice of a police officer asking the routine questions. License, insurance, and registration. Then there was some muffling, a small conversation, but you couldn’t make out the words. 

The officer glanced at the license before glancing back over at the man sitting in front of him, “I swear, you look familiar,” he couldn’t pinpoint it. He just knew this man from somewhere. 

“I’m a high school teacher, probably seen me around the community events, football games, you know,” Mr. Firth replied as he smiled at the officer. Trying his best to keep his cool, but deep down his plan wasn’t going accordingly. His heart was beating rapidly, he was glad the officer couldn’t see it for it was a dead giveaway. Mr. Firth glanced over at the review mirror, just behind the backseats is a body. A live probably still unconscious body and it isn’t his first body. 

The officer’s radio went off, “reports of a possible missing girl a couple of miles east from Sudbury high school. Family is located in a nearby neighborhood, calling in nearby officers.” The officer sighed, knowing well that he can let this small violation of a broken tail light slide. 

“Dispatcher, this is Officer Hopkins, I am in route,” the officer handed Mr. Firth his information back. “Consider yourself lucky,” he began to say. “Fix that tail light whenever you can, alright?” 

Mr. Firth gave the officer a small nod, “Will do, officer.” The officer gave him a nod before running back to his car. You felt tears begin to well up in your eyes, you were so close to freedom. So close.

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[slversoul]

* lauren tsai, cis female + she/her | you know ramona pei, right? they’re twenty-three, and they’ve lived in irving for, like, eight years? well, their spotify wrapped says they listened to can i believe you by fleet foxes like, a million times this year, which makes sense ‘cause they’ve got that whole sitting at the bottom of a swimming pool while your lungs are screaming for air, the muffle of a tv from behind a closed door at 3am, ripping your dress as you crawl into your friends window thing going on. i just checked and their birthday is march 6, so they’re a pisces, which is unsurprising, all things considered. ( corny :D  )

also sorry this got so long :(( really meant to shorten it but uh oh well. let’s get into it shall we...  

TW: blood mentions, violence, arson, emotional manipulation, cheating, absentee parenting, parental fighting

ABOUT.

in her hand, ramona held an antique vase, white with blue detailing. passed down from generation to generation, it had been in her family for decades. not wanting to drop it, she held it as tightly as possible. held so tight that it shattered anyway, breaking into hundreds of pieces that cut her hand as they fell.

a trip to china to celebrate graduating college despite having two children in between, patti met a man and had a short-lived but passionate affair, only to return home to find out she was pregnant.  

in the middle of a storm, ramona was born into a home longer than it was tall. patti gave her her father’s last name, some shallow attempt to connect her to a man and culture she didn’t know. 

ramona’s early years float through her mind like a montage of memories. rolling in the dirt and eating worms. climbing up the trees that shadowed the driveway to their house, jumping from branch to branch. cutting her doll’s hair before cutting her own to match. the first meeting of patti’s new boyfriend. his hairy belly hanging out of his white wife beater as he fell asleep on the couch with the tv on.

patti loved her children. she loved trent, shirley, and ramona with her whole heart, but she was tired. working all day and all night, it was hard to keep tabs on them at all times. the three of them woke up early every morning, singing as they packed lunches, and they kept up with their chore wheel, and they ran barefoot for hours in the woods behind their house.

she first learned to swim in a grimmy lake a couple miles from her house. she’d sit on the bike with trent as he took them there. she jumped right in and paddled her arms until she learned to stay afloat. she’d go under and swim deeper and deeper until her siblings were screaming her name. she’d come up and laugh, knowing that her siblings cared for her.

her first friend was debbie. they were inseparable. holding hands on the playground. playing hopscotch after school. swimming in the lake by her house. as the days went on, debbie made new friends. less and less she was at ramona’s house, eating peanut butter sandwiches trent had made. a thursday afternoon, ramona stole a hershey’s bar from the gas station — deb’s favorite candy. after her mom tucked her in, she snuck out and ran to her friend’s, still in her pjs. she threw rocks at the window, and one was thrown a bit too hard, shattering the window. debbie’s screams woke the whole neighborhood. the cops were called. while she was escorted home, ramona was crying the whole time, confused as to what she did wrong. all she wanted to do was win her friend back.

she felt like she didn’t belong. she’d cut up pictures of her favorite actresses and paste pictures of her own face over theirs, hanging those portraits all over the walls of the house. if she lived like the characters on the tv, she would have to be real. that was real life. there were times when everything felt perfect. the feeling of relief that comes from placing the last piece in a puzzle. snapshot memories like sitting at the table with her siblings, swinging her feet because her legs were too small to hit the ground. her first kiss underneath the slide. running with her friend, crayons in hand as they doodled along the walls. she was inclined to freeze these memories, trying to prolong them and make them last forever.

so when trent left for college, ramona, 13 at the time, hugged him so tight and wouldn’t let go. her mother and sister had to pry her off of him, and she scratched him so hard she drew blood in the process. or when her first boyfriend broke up with her and two weeks later he had a new girlfriend. she took her nail polish and wrote ‘cunt’ on his locker, earning herself a week-long suspension. shirley only congratulated her. her mother was at work. her step-father was passed out on the couch.

she acclimated to high school easily with shirley there to guide her. but she quickly made her own friends. tamra’s parents were hardly home. her house served as homebase. ramona’s parents didn’t realize when she left. they were too busy screaming at each other over the static of the tv. she’d slip out and run to tamra’s, climbing into the window left open. they’d put makeup on like their favorite movie character and get in their nicest dresses, before meeting their girlfriends and boyfriends in the parking lot of the abandoned walmart, making a competition out of who could get the drunkest. they would head home and four or five of them would pile into tamra’s bed and sleep there until late afternoon.

ramona’s first serious relationship was russell. she swore they were in love until she caught him making out with someone else at a bonfire. she pushed him over and ran into the woods. two weeks later, they were back together. he was her dream guy. not even nicholas sparks could write a lead so romantic. he kept pushing her and pushing her because he knew she wouldn’t let go. until one night she got so mad that she smashed in the windows of his car and sliced up the leather interior. fits of rage were rare for her, but when they came around, they were all consuming. she was lucky he didn’t press charges. 

life was a whirlwind of change the summer before sophomore year. shirley was packing up for college. patti was getting a divorce and moving them to irving, her hometown. ramona locked herself in her room. she wouldn’t come out for anything. the next day, when she still wouldn’t leave, shirley broke into her room, only to find it empty with the window wide open. a town-wide manhunt ensued, only to find her hiding up in a tree in the woods. 

even though she was back home, she wasn’t really there. she wouldn’t speak. didn’t speak until the day shirley moved away to go to college. 

 despite her reservations, she liked irving. she had never seen the ocean before. ramona stepped up to the shore and looked out at the horizon. peace washed over her as the waves lapped at her ankles. there was a sense of security in feeling so small. she took to swimming in the ocean rather than the lake, searching for sea creatures big and small to befriend.

the tv was always on at their house. her mom couldn’t stand the quiet and neither could she. the house was empty with three less booming voices. ramona clung to her friends, using them as an escape for everything she didn’t want to think about.

surrounded by all of these people, she still felt alone, isolated, like they only loved a certain version of her. when her and patti left to meet trent to visit shirley at school, she cried the whole trip, thinking her friends would talk about her while she was gone, and that they would be closer when she wasn’t there.

but she seemed to always be there, forcing her way into every plan and every activity rather than be left out. it was suffocating, but she was usually kind, so people put up with her.

there were always the times she wasn’t kind. when she’d make passive aggressive comments about what a bitch someone was because they didn’t want her using their favorite eyeshadow. or when someone said they wanted space and she went on a tirade about how horribly they treated her because she didn’t want them to leave her -- a reactionary measure that always seemed to make everything worse. but then she would act out her favorite television episodes for her friends and they would laugh and clap along, forgetting her desperate attempts to fight change. 

she couldn’t follow in her siblings footsteps. siblings she hardly hears from anymore, but desperately tries to reach out to. she stayed home and got a job as a swim instructor and a lifeguard in the summer. she sells handmade jewelry on the side. she’s floating and untethered, waiting to see where the tide carries her, only wanting to make fun memories from now until the end of time. 

PERSONALITY. 

um she’s a bit horrible? her heart is always in the right place and her intensions are good. she romanticizes literally everything. she wants to be loved so badly that she will look past any and all flaws <3. she often acts out because she is scared of losing her friends, and so she’ll be rude and passive aggressive. she wants them to feel like they need her more than she needs them. it’s all a weird power move in a way to keep her friends close. consumed by fomo. sometimes she can be outright mean and aggressive, but she really has to be pushed to her limit. doesn’t ever see what she’s doing as wrong. her older siblings were more of parents to her than her actual parents, and since they were all within 5 years of each other in age, her siblings never disciplined her because they were all immature. she is playful and untamed and just likes to do things because she can’t sit still. can always be found hanging out with friends and doing arts in crafts, or climbing rocks or swimming in the ocean. 

HEADCANONS.

she can’t get rid of things. her windowsill is lined with empty makeup bottles and empty deodorants and flowers in old wine bottles. she wears clothes until they literally fall apart. she has a million posters and pictures covering every space of her walls and ceiling. her room is a collection of her life with piles of clothes on her desk chair and bras and sweaters hanging from door handles.

for three months, she wore a bathing suit every day. some days it was under regular clothes and others it was the only thing she wore. she liked it and thought it was fashionable. it was how she was most comfortable.

she can’t drive! only rides her bike!

only wears dresses now <3

cannot sleep without the tv on! likes to hear voices lull her to sleep and inspire her dreams.

speaking of dreams, she has a whole notebook filled with the time she decided to analyze dreams for fun. has a notebook per passion she wants to explore. is always trying new things or researching new things to try to find her forever interest, not coming to terms that she wants to run wild forever and live like a witch in the woods, completely unburdened by anything.

she has a scar on her knee and the palm of her hand. she was hiking up a waterfall with friends one time, and got dared to climb up some slippery rocks. needless to say, she fell and cut herself badly.

she likes laughing and running and swimming. she likes posters and nail polish and cozy comforters. she dislikes being confined indoors and people who go out of their way to be mean and rainy days. she dislikes the color orange and words she can’t pronounce and learning from a textbook. she likes bikes and she doesn’t like cars. she likes anyone with kind eyes.

[2manyfandoms2count]

Friends who cook together...

I saw today's prompt for @auyeahaugust (College AU) and thought it would be the perfect opportunity to share the beginning of this fic I've been working on!

It's actually based on @e-milieeee's post, I couldn't resist the cooking trope 😬

Hope you enjoy!

Read on AO3 (gasp)

---

Lesson 1: Ratatouille

Adrien Agreste was the perfect man. Good-looking, hard-working, charming, he was the prime example of the son-in-law every parent wanted, and the people his age who didn't want to be him wanted to date him.

Marinette Dupain-Cheng wouldn't deny she might be classified in the latter category, although less so than when she was younger. She was good friends with the model now. Voluntarily so. You didn’t fight and defeat Paris’ number one villains for years, growing from a teenager into a young adult together, without getting close. Their respective crushes on each other had faded over time, but it didn’t mean they would’ve said no if all the circumstances aligned, although they wouldn’t have admitted it out loud.

The one thing Adrien Agreste wasn’t, though, was a good cook. Not that he didn’t have everything he could possibly need in his kitchen. The apartment he now lived in, although a huge step down from the Mansion that had once been his home (but what wouldn’t be), was still a lot bigger, and a lot more comfortable than what a normal student should have been able to afford.

It was a lot better equipped, too.

Marinette had told him the contractors were abusing his trust by installing things that were way more expensive than they ought to be, knowing he wouldn’t double check, but he’d waved her concerns away. With his father’s demise, he’d just wanted to move out as quickly as possible to avoid the crowds of paparazzi, and if signing a very large cheque could provide him with the knowledge the workers wouldn’t blab, then so be it. He couldn’t bring himself to sell the Mansion despite the knowledge it had been Hawkmoth’s lair the whole time -there were too many memories associated with his mother there- but he’d had some offers to rent it out for movie settings which would definitely cover the costs of keeping it, as well as his rent. He’d looked into his finances and put all the money he’d earned as a model in a bank account, and donated the rest to a fund to help Akuma victims. There was no way he was keeping his father’s dirty money when so many people had suffered at his hands.

Since then, Adrien had fallen into a nice little routine as he moved from Lycée to University. He made the most of his freedom by exploring every nook and cranny of Paris without anyone being able to say anything about it. No curfews, no limitations, but for his own tiredness and others’ private property, of course.

It left little time for him to learn basic cooking skills. He was often too tired to make anything when he came back from his nocturnal meanderings, so he went for the easy solution: food delivery. There were so many restaurants nearby he could’ve eaten something different every night for a month and still not have gone through all of the options. It was more diverse than anything he’d ever eaten, and it suited him just fine.

Little did he know that this habit would be disrupted by his best friend moving in next door.

Marinette had been looking for a new flat. Not that she didn’t enjoy living with her parents, but she found herself wanting a little more privacy now that she was at University. The reveal that she was Ladybug had brought a lot of attention to the Tom and Sabine bakery, which was good, but a lot of it was journalists prowling around in the hopes of getting an exclusive interview with her. She was tired of being pretty much mauled anytime she left the house, and although she could easily leave via the rooftops as Ladybug, she refused to let them dictate how and when she could get in and out. Which is why, when she’d seen the words “à louer” on a window of Adrien’s building as she visited him for their weekly game night, she didn’t think twice about calling the number. Adrien had been a step ahead of her, so the owners were expecting her call. A week later, she had officially moved into the flat across from his.

She hadn’t paid much attention to his habits at first. She was too busy settling in, and with all the planned evenings with Nino and Alya, plus the ones with the Miracuclass students who remained in Paris, she didn’t see how late he came back at night, and ordering in didn’t seem out of place. What better than a pizza for poker night? Or sushi for movie night? It was easy .

As winter settled in, though, and nights out dwindled to once every fortnight, she noticed the ballet of scooters and bikes that came almost at a fixed time every night. Generally when she was about to fall asleep, doing a grand job at waking her up. Groggily stalking up to the window one evening, she’d noticed Adrien meet the delivery person as he came back from wherever he’d been, paying his due and coming up. She’d dismissed it due to midterm season approaching, but exams had come and gone and things hadn’t changed. She kept an eye out, and after two additional weeks of seeing Adrien collect a brown paper bag, knowing fully well that he ate a sandwich every midday thanks to her father’s well-meaning gossip, she’d decided to take action. She couldn’t let her partner have such a questionable diet.

“What's it going to be tonight?” She asked, leaning arms crossed against her door frame one night as he appeared on the landing.

Adrien froze at the top of the stairs and looked at her like a deer caught in headlights.

“Er…“ He raked his mind for something, anything that would sound even remotely healthy, but nothing came. He sighed defeatedly. “None pizza with left beef.” He mumbled, his head lowered guiltily. He’d seen the meme the night before, and had wanted to try it out.

“What?”

He repeated a little louder.

“Okay that’s it, you’re coming over to my place for dinner.”

He knew from her tone of voice there’d be no arguing with her, so he sheepishly followed her inside her flat, still clutching his pizza box. He wasn’t too unhappy about the outcome, if he was honest. Marinette was a good cook. He’d have a nice meal tonight.

“What about the pizza?” He asked weakly.

“We can use it as… bread, or something.” The girl suggested, crinkling her nose at the thought. For someone who came from a long line of bakers and was part Italian, calling the contents of the box pizza or even bread seemed inherently wrong.

Adrien trailed a little behind her as she walked towards her kitchen, marveling at what she’d done with the place.

Marinette’s apartment mirrored his in terms of structure, but whereas his decoration was very minimalistic, hers was a lot more eclectic, without looking cluttered. Her furniture wasn’t a set, yet fit together very well and gave the space a cozy feel. The painted walls, as well as the coloured posters, curtains, rugs and cushions made it feel very homey. He wanted nothing more than sit on her sofa and snuggle under the knitted blanket with her to watch a movie.

Platonically, of course.

Adrien walked into the kitchen and was greeted by the pastel yellow of the walls and warm lighting. Her utensils provided nice splashes of colour that brightened up the room. He particularly appreciated the Ladybug-themed colander that was drying next to the sink.

“If you look in that bottom draw,” she indicated with her foot before reaching for a jar of dried rice in a cupboard, “you should find some saucepans, if you could take two out please, Chaton.”

He obliged, resisting the temptation to lift her up to help her. He knew she wouldn't appreciate it.

“Can I put you in charge of cooking the rice?” She asked, handing him the packet. Adrien accepted it but looked at her quizzically.

“Sure!” He replied excitedly. “Do you have the instructions anywhere?”

Marinette stopped in the middle of washing vegetables she’d taken out of the fridge and squinted her eyes as she gauged whether or not he was joking. He seemed genuinely at loss for what to do.

“Have you never prepared rice before?”

“No?”

“It’s like pasta.” His clueless face made her sigh defeatedly. “You’ve never made pasta either, haven’t you.”

“Does instant ramen count? Or pasta boxes?” He flinched slightly.

“How you’re still alive and actually fit is beyond me.” She rolled her eyes. “Right, I guess we really are starting with the basics then. Consider this lesson number one: pour some water in that saucepan.”

She moved away from the sink to allow him to access it, but stayed close enough to be able to turn the tap off for him. He clearly had no idea of how much water was needed.

“Right, now put the saucepan on the hob, and turn it on.” She saw a smirk spread on his face. “And don’t even think about making a joke, I know what it sounded like!”

“You’re no fun, Buguinette.” He pouted, pressing the button she indicated.

“Add a little salt, and then we’ll just let it come to a boil.”

Next, she handed him a chopping board and tomatoes. She hesitated before giving him a knife. “Can I trust you not to cut yourself?”

“Har har.” He grabbed the knife. “Joke’s on you, because salad is actually the only thing I know how to make. How do you want these?”

She resisted making a comment on how knowing how to make salad wasn't something he really could brag about. “Sliced. We’re making ratatouille.”

“Ooh, nice!”

He listened as she talked him through the recipe, impressed by the fact she didn’t need a cookbook to remember how to prepare it. She taught him how to prepare an aubergine, which he could recognise thanks to the emoji, but could not imagine how to bring to an edible form.

“We just want to sear them in some oil with the courgettes, then we’ll let them cook gently with the rest of the vegetables and the herbs.”

He’d been quite dainty on the amount of herbes de Provence he’d added, which had prompted her taking his hand and shaking the spice pot to cover the tomatoes with it.

He looked at her concentrated expression as she stirred the pan and couldn’t help but smile, his hand still hovering above the hob.

Marinette looked at him inquisitively. “What?”

“Nothing.” She raised her eyebrows. “I just forgot how cute you are when you’re bossy.”

Marinette stammered in response, her cheeks pinking. It didn't matter how at ease she felt with Adrien now, she still couldn't take a compliment from him. He grinned and took advantage of her distraction to steal the wooden spoon from her and taste the dish.

“Authorisation to add a little salt?” He asked, refilling the spoon with ratatouille for her.

She took it, trying not to focus on the fact his lips had been just where hers were. She let the flavours flood her palet thoughtfully.

"Authorisation granted."

She smiled fondly as Adrien excitedly added missing spices to the mix.

"See? I am a competent cook!" He added with a satisfied smile.

"Please, you're barely a sous-chef." Marinette snorted. She backtracked her slightly harsh words seeing her partner's pout. "Don't worry though, you'll get the hang of it! It's just a question of practising." She rubbed his back encouragingly. "Would making the plates pretty make you feel better?"

"I think so." He mock sniffled.

Marinette made a point of taking out her Chat Noir plates, which she'd been planning on keeping for special occasions. The way Adrien's face lit up upon seeing them made the fact they were her only dishes that couldn't be dishwashed seem irrelevant. Adrien made a mental note to try and find matching Ladybug ones, although he wasn't sure if he would be gifting them to her or keeping them for himself.

Marinette busied herself with tidying up the kitchen and laying the cutlery as he worked on the presentation. Had her phone been nearby, she would've taken a picture of him as he blepped in concentration.

"Does this look good enough for Madame la Chef ?" He asked as he presented the plates to her. He'd positioned the vegetables around the rice so as to make it look like a flower.

"It's perfect, Chaton." She kissed the top of his head as she passed behind him with a packet of smoked ham. She rolled the slices into little roses and planted them in the rice.

"A table?" She asked as she finally sat down opposite him.

Adrien dug in before she could say bon appétit .

---

When Adrien came home from his morning run a couple of days later, a fresh croissant in hand, he found a conscientiously wrapped package on his doormat. The black polka dots on the field of red were a dead giveaway as to who it was from. He grinned as he picked it up and opened the door.

Breakfast and washed hands later, he sat on his couch, facing the present. He was torn between tearing the wrapping, or being civilised about it. Before he could choose, Plagg flew nearby and obeyed his cat instincts, swiftly disappearing back into his Camembert cabinet with a grin to avoid his holder's reprimands.

"Je sais cuisiner." He read the title and laughed, holding the book in front of him. It was an old edition, a yellow hardback with a picture of the author on the cover.

A post-it note stuck out from the top of the book. He opened it to get to the bookmarked recipe.

For Adrien - saw this and thought of you! Since you're so keen on instructions, this might do the trick! Feel free to use it often ;-)

Love, Marinette

P.S.: I suggest we try this recipe next!

Adrien read through the page, and felt his stomach grumble. He was very pleased at the thought that something had reminded her of him and that she'd bought it for him. The "love" and the fact she was obviously looking forward to repeating their cooking experience were added bonuses.

He himself could hardly wait.

[jasontoddiefor]

Title: Robin’s Requirements Summary: The name’s Robin,” the kid said with Dick’s smirk and Jason’s accent. Bruce felt ice crawl up his veins. He was going to throw up.Robin number three wasn’t human and Bruce didn’t know how keep going after Jason’s death. They make it work (after a rough start). AN: I decided to put up all the chapters I’ve posted of this story so far in proper order on tumblr since some people prefer reading here. Here’s the AO3 link to the story! I update weekly!

Chapter 1

Summer in Gotham was almost unbearable. The smoke and ashes lingering in the air mixed with the heat radiated from the asphalt to create an atmosphere that made it difficult to breathe or even just move in. In-between the tall skyscrapers and the houses squished into spaces much too small for them, you got the closest you could be to the experience of boiling to death without actually dying.

Winter may freeze your limbs, break away one finger after another, but summer’s heat, similar to the blast of an explosion, burned away your skin.

The summer nights appeared to be the much kinder, softer counterpart to the day time for the poor creatures who had to make their way through dark alleys.

It was a farce.

Gotham wasn’t kind, she hadn’t been in a long time.

The coolness of the darkness lulled you into a false sense of security. You were exhausted already, scared of the shadows too maybe if you weren’t used to them, or if you knew what lingered beyond them, but at least death didn’t await you in the sun’s divine punishment.

A logical but wrong assumption.

Grim hunters stalked the dark, waiting for you to slip up, to make a mistake.

Or at least, they used to be there to sink their teeth into you.

For the longest time Gotham had been protected by three guardians, predators, but nowadays you only ever spotted one of them, and if you did, you were better off to slice your own throat, or so they said.

Nobody had ever attempted to deny that meetings with the Bat could get bloody, especially if you provoked him. Still, they didn’t used to look like a war zone, entrails spread over the grey asphalt as empty eyes judged you for all the horrors you committed. The Bat used to be kinder, more forgiving, more understanding.

He wasn’t anymore. He had broken like Gotham had so many decades ago.

He still protected the weak, the needy, the helpless, but he no longer fought for the damned.

Instead of being their ferryman, he brought them directly to hell. It wasn’t death, not yet, but by the time he was done, you would wish for it.

People wondered what had changed right up until the Joker nearly choked on his acid laughter in the Bat’s arms, laughing about little songbirds cut up so badly you couldn’t tell the red of their feather coat from their blood.

It made sense then that the Bat would start to lose control. Everybody knew that the little Robin was off-limits. You try to could hurt and maim him, or break him for sure, these were the rules of the streets, and if he wanted to fly through them, he had to acknowledge them, but only ever as long as the Bat was your actual target.

You did not target Robin, Gotham loved him.

(There was a price to be paid for his death.)

X

“Duke, honey, it’s time for bed!”

“I know, Mom! Just five more minutes!”

Duke Thomas considered himself to be a regular ten-year-old. He loved video games, Star Wars, his Mom’s cooking, his Dad’s jokes, and, above everything, Robin Spotting. It was so much fun to stay up late, hoping to catch a glimpse of that colorful uniform or hear the joyful laughter.

Duke had actually seen Robin once too, on his fire escape. The hero had smiled at him and then put his index finger on his lips, indicating for Duke to be silent. Caught up in his excitement, Duke hadn’t even been able to speak to the hero or do anything but stand at his window, jumping up and down. He had watched as Batman caught up with Robin and the duo had flown away, Robin pretty much glued to Batman’s side.

The alley beneath Duke’s window was dark and dirty, but the heroes had been able to light it up.

And now Robin was gone.

Duke couldn’t believe it.

The police hadn’t said anything about Robin’s disappearance. Duke checked the news every day when his parents weren’t watching him too closely, lest they start thinking he wanted to watch those instead of his cartoons, hoping to hear about something interesting that wasn’t economics. However, the papers had plenty to say about Robin. His Mom called them ‘gossip rags Duke was better off not paying too much attention to’, but he had read them regardless.

The papers claimed Robin was dead, said that the Joker had killed him.

Duke was sure they were lying.

Robin was magical, Robin couldn’t die.

(But the Joker rarely appeared to be human either.)

Maybe somebody just had to remind Robin that he was still needed here. Duke sometimes got so caught up in his thoughts, he forgot to do his homework. It was probably something similar for Robin

“Duke, lights out!” His Dad said when he passed by Duke’s room.

“Just one more minute!” Duke pleaded, not even looking up from his desk.

“Alright, alright.” Dad laughed. “But you have to tell me what you’re writing.”

He entered the room and stepped closer to take a look at the sheet of paper Duke had been writing on, but Duke quickly pulled it to his chest to hide his scribbles.

“No! You can’t see it! It will take away the magic.”

You didn’t show your parents the letter for Santa either, or it wouldn’t get to Santa. Of course, the latter wasn’t real, but Robin was. And honestly, there were rules about this kind of magic – his parents should know them.

Dad just raised his hands in defeat, still smiling in amusement.

“Okay, buddy, but tomorrow you have to share with the class.”

Duke frowned, unsure whether that would be enough time for Robin to get his letter.

“Later,” Duke yielded. “Once I know it worked.”

Dad’s smile softened and he patted Duke’s shoulder.

“Only one more minute, then bedtime. You have school tomorrow and I don’t want to get another call about you falling asleep in class.”

Duke huffed, but couldn’t hide his happy smile. “That was only once!”

“Once enough. Sleep well, kid.”

“Night, Dad.”

Dad walked out of Duke’s room, closing the door behind him so that Duke was staring at the Justice League poster pinned to the wood. Batman needed Robin, so Duke would remind the short hero that he had to come home.

He quickly finished his letter, packed it in transparent cover, and hid it away in his Super Secret Special box. It was actually just a shoebox he had painted yellow and orange and decorated with plastic gemstones, but Duke loved it. Then he turned off the light and crawled into his bed. Duke took his alarm clock from the nightstand and set the alarm for a few minutes before midnight. He wasn’t sure whether twelve o’clock really was the right time, but it seemed very important in a lot of movies, so Duke figured if he had to choose, he might as well go with this time. If he succeeded, he’d maybe write to the police as well, tell them how to contact Robin since the Bat-signal only worked for Batman.

Falling asleep when he was so nervous turned out to be a chore. It felt just like the evenings before his birthday when he could hear the blood rushing through his ears and it kept him awake for as long as possible.

Duke managed to sink into sleep sometime after his parents had gone to bed as well. He hadn’t even noticed that he’d drifted off right until his alarm rang again and Duke woke up startled. Tiredly, Duke crawled out of his bed and put on his socks to minimize the sound he made. He picked put the box and began tonight’s journey.

When he opened the door, he winced at the jarring sound. Even if he tried to be as slow as possible, the door refused to stay silent. Duke halted to listen if his parents still slept. His father’s snoring turned out to be a rather practical way of measuring it. Thankfully, his parents also didn’t wake when Duke stole the house keys out of his mother’s purse. With his box in hand, Duke sneaked out of the apartment and headed towards the stairs leading up to the rooftop.

The air inside the staircase was stuffy, receiving no circulation whatsoever. On tiptoes, Duke walked past the doors of his neighbors, being exceptionally careful when he passed the apartment of Ms. Norrington. She was, in the words of his usually calm and kind mother, a mean old witch, except she hadn’t said witch, but another word starting with a ‘b’ that Duke was too frightful to repeat. The old lady and her ugly little dog always watched Duke and his friend with her mean big blue eyes, especially when they were carrying toys. In Ms. Norrington’s opinion, there was nothing more terrible than children playing and having fun. One of these days, she wouldn’t even wait until Duke had made a sound, she’d just snatch his football away as soon as she would spot him. Therefore Duke needed to pass her without alarming her.

One step, another, a third and a fourth and Duke had done it. Victoriously, he rushed up the remaining staircases to the rooftop. If his parents knew that he was up here, they’d ground him for sure. None of the kids in the apartment block were supposed to go upstairs because the fence surrounding the roof hadn’t been fixed in ages and someone could get hurt or, even worse, fall off the roof when playing.

Duke thought it was stupid. He wouldn’t ever be dumb enough to fall off a house. However, that hadn’t stopped the adults from locking the door between Duke and his goal. But for that purpose, Duke had snatched his mother’s keys. His own keyring only had the keys for the front and backdoor, one for his bike and one for his Cousin’s home. His mother, on the other hand, did possess a key for the top door.

The lock was rusty and the key wouldn’t turn properly when Duke tried to open it. Duke bit on his tongue in concentration as he twisted the key multiple times until finally, after what felt like ages, the door clicked and opened.

Duke slowly closed it behind himself again, as to avoid the wind pushing it into the lock again with a loud BAM! Certainly, old Ms. Norrington would wake from that. Duke would just have to hurry and be finished before she managed to get out of bed, put on her pink shoes, ugly old and gray bathrobe and made it to the door.

Gotham was an ugly city according to the news, but Duke had long since learned not to trust them. Sure, the city could be a bit cleaner, but monuments like the shining WE building or the green Robinson park in the distance were signs that Gotham wasn’t as shitty as people claimed. The breeze here up on the rooftop was quite enjoyable too. They should tell their landlord to repair the fence quickly so that Duke could play Batman and Robin with his friends up here. That would be way cooler than going to the playground. Here they would be up on a real rooftop and didn’t have to pretend the monkey bars were the top of the Crystal Palace. Thinking of his two heroes, Duke reminded himself of his mission.

He looked around for the best spot to put his letter and settled on the water tank. A short ladder was leading up to it and so, with his box secured under his arms, Duke began to climb. He slipped nearly once or twice, but always managed to catch himself at the last second.

Once he reached the top, he allowed himself to sit down just to catch a quick breath. He was working on a schedule after all.

Duke set his box down next to him and took off the cover, revealing his letter to Robin and his most prized possession: a Batarang.

He’d found it in the trash a while ago and ever since he had the supreme right to always play Batman if he wanted to. He hadn’t told his parents about it because he knew they’d take it away, even if Duke didn’t take it outside his room usually. Why would he? He didn’t want it to get stolen by others!

Duke reached for the Batarang and then traced its edges with his fingers. It was still sharp, if he wasn’t careful he’d cut himself.

Duke didn’t have a Bat-signal, but he also didn’t want to attract that much attention. He was sure that if he just scratched something in the wooden surface of the water tank, Robin would spot it sooner or later. With the sharp side of the weapon, Duke began to scratch a big R into the wood. He made sure his carvings were deep enough that they’d be seen from above.

Then, with as much might as Duke could measure up, he rammed the Batarang through his letter into the wood so that it wouldn’t just fly away when left unsupervised.

There, his work was done.

Content with himself, Duke allowed himself to observe Gotham for a little while longer, forgetting Ms. Norrington for a moment. He wouldn’t get a sight as neat as this one again in a long while.

Duke climbed down from the water tank and returned inside. He made it past Ms. Norrington’s door and slipped into his apartment and room, his parents still sound asleep and none the wiser of Duke’s little adventure.

Yawning, Duke pulled his blanket over his head. It was sad that he had to give up his Batarang, but maybe he’d get a new one once Robin returned. And Duke didn’t mind playing other heroes.

After all, now it was really just a question of time.

X

Beneath him, the city was wide awake, even during such late hours. He should probably return to the Cave for tonight, he didn’t have any supplies besides the one lone Batarang. While he was sure that his wit alone would suffice to support Batman, a utility belt filled with all kinds of tricky equipment would be immense support, never mind much more fun.

He was already on the move, heading home for the first time, when Gotham started screaming for help. Her shouts spoke of fear, of a terrified mother scared for her children’s safety.

Somebody was threatening her - who?

Batman wouldn’t approve of it, he was sure, but generally speaking, it wasn’t his job to listen to Batman. He was there to support the Bat and, more importantly, keep Gotham safe. He couldn’t do that from the Cave.

With a wild grin, he jumped from the rooftop, executing a perfect landing on the balcony of the next house. Quickly he moved forward, making his way through the cold September air to come to Gotham’s aid.

He was Robin.

He had been born for this.

[sakura-blossom28]

Heartbroken

Jumped around with the here.  Felt good to write! Let me know what you think! Next chapter will be tough but I want to write it! Will add links later 

They started slow.  Spending time alone, just the two of them became normal.  She would go to his apartment after work, they would have dinner together, maybe watch a movie and then go home.  Other days when her mother wasn’t in a panic about how their home looked, Gaara would stay for dinner to get to know her family better.  They knew how they felt and that’s all that mattered to them.  

XxX

Gaara heard a knock on his door.  He looked at the time and knew Sakura was standing on the other side.  This time of day was always his favorite.  She had just gotten out of work and it was a cooldown day from the gym.  He opened the door to find a slightly exhausted Sakura.  Even though she had just worked a full day, Gaara still found her extremely beautiful.  His heart always sped up when she smiled at him, even though she was tired.  She could have chosen to go right home after work, but she decided to spend her time with him and he was grateful for that.  

Sakura quietly walked in with her change in clothes in hand.  She hated being in scrubs longer than she needed to be.  Before she could even change Gaara wrapped her in a tight hug as he shut the door behind her.  He wouldn’t let go of her until they were sitting on his couch. He arranged them so that Sakura was sitting on his lap and he had his face buried in her hair.  

“Gaara, what’s gotten into you?  I just saw you yesterday!” Sakura laughed as she settled into him and started to play with his hair.  

“I know and I already missed you,” he mumbled into her hair.  That made Sakura pause.  No guy had ever said that to her before.  She had always been the one to gush over the other person.  Sakura didn’t even have to prompt him to say anything sweet to her.  She held onto him a little tighter than usual and got off the couch to get changed. 

XxX

“Hey I was talking to your sister and the girls today and they wanted to go out this weekend.  We were thinking about going to a few bars and maybe even a club.  Are you in?” Sakura asked Gaara.  They had just finished their class and he was walking her to her car.  Gaara got quiet while he thought.  

“Going out like that isn’t really my thing…” Gaara finally said.  

“Oh alright.  I kinda figured that anyway.  Maybe we can see a movie instead-” Sakura started. 

“Hey hey wait a minute Sakura,” Gaara said stopping Sakura before she could get into her car.  “Just because it’s not my favorite thing to do doesn’t mean we don’t have to go.  I know you want to go, so we’ll go.  I’d do that for you.  And maybe next time I want to go to a concert of that band I like you’ll join me because I asked.  We do things for each other Sakura, that’s how I want our relationship to be.  Plus I just want to be around you.  I don’t care what we do.” 

“You would do that for me?” Sakura asked in disbelief.  Sasuke had only gone out with her once and it was just to one bar.  Ino was in town and she really wanted them to meet.  He did go out with her, but the whole time he seemed miserable.  Sakura had felt so guilty after that that she never asked to go out again.  

“Of course I would.  Sakura, I would do anything for you if it made you happy,” Gaara said as he tried to turn Sakura around so he could look at her.  When he did, he didn’t expect to see tears building up in her eyes.  It broke his heart to see pain in her eyes.  “Sakura?  Did I say something wrong?  I’m-”

“No no Gaara.  It’s just- I appreciate you so much.  Thank you.  I really do want you to come out with me,” Sakra said, wiping her eyes.  It was silly of her, always crying like that when something wasn’t going her way.  It was something she really needed to work on.  Sakura typically associates the word ‘no’ with “no I don’t like you”.  Gaara was very patient.  He really could have said that he didn’t want to go and that should have been good enough for Sakura.  They didn’t have to do everything together and she shouldn’t get upset about it.  

“I know you said you’ll go, but in the future, if I ask you to do or go somewhere with me and you truly don’t want to go I want you to be honest with me.  I understand we can compromise, but there’s a limit Gaara.  I don’t want to assume you’ll say yes every time.”

“Alright, that’s fair.  I hope you’ll do the same.  Please don’t cry like that, I don’t think I can handle your tears,” Gaara said, pulling her into a hug.  

XxX

It was a typical Friday night.  Sakura had taken an earlier class since she got out of work early and wanted to have a quiet night at home.  She had a rough week at work dealing with difficult patients so Gaara understood.  They had agreed they would pick a different day to see each other.  Gaara had planned to use his time to think of something nice that they could do with each other.  With it raining it was the perfect night to stay in so he didn’t mind that he didn’t have any plans.

There was a knock at his door.  He wasn’t expecting anyone and Kankuro was already out for the night.  He cautiously went to the door to see a soaked Sakura standing outside.  She didn’t have a coat on or anything. She even looked like she was in her pajamas.  

“Sakura?!  What happened?!  Are you okay?”  Gaara asked as he grabbed her inside.  She was shaking as he brought her in and she wouldn’t say a word.  She must have parked in the gym lot and walked all the way over to his building.  He immediately brought her into the bathroom and left to get some towels.  Once he had her mostly dried, he went to his room for a change of clothes.  He found some of his clothes from when he was younger that would fit Sakura better.  

He waited outside the bathroom for her to change.  Once she opened the door he made her sit down on the toilet so that he could blow dry her hair.  They sat in silence.  Gaara knew she needed time to think.  He saw how red her eyes were and knew she had been crying.  Now if he only knew the reason…  Gaara turned off the hairdryer when Sakura’s hair was light pink and fluffy again.  He gently lifted her chin so that their eyes met.  

“Do you want to talk about what happened?” he asked in a neutral voice, even though he was worried on the inside.  She started to shake her head no.  He let out a deep sigh.  He didn’t want to get angry with her, he was just worried so he had to control himself.  “Please Sakura, I need some information.  I just want to make sure you’re okay.”  

Tears started to form again in her eyes.  “I’m so sorry- to come over like this- I-I didn’t know where else to go.  I-I got in a fight with my m-mom” she said through her tears.  Ugh, just her mom.  He could help with that.  

“I can g-go if you need me to.  I’m-I’m sorry Gaara-”

“Shh no.  I’m glad you came here.  You can always come to me with your problems.  C’mon, let’s go sit on the couch.”  Gaara helped her up and wrapped her up in a blanket and went to make them some tea.  When he was back Sakura seemed to have calmed down a bit.  

“Okay, now what happened?” Gaara asked, handing Sakura her tea.  “You and your mom normally get along.  What did you get in a fight over?”

“You’re going to think I’m crazy if I tell you… It was ridiculous really.  I was just starting to relax after my day and she gets on my case about med school.  I know I eventually have to go, but I have to take the MCAT before I apply.  I want to take it in the late summer and then apply in the spring, but she thinks I’m pushing it off again.  She’s been on my case so much about it and I’m so frustrated about it!  I just get so overwhelmed and she doesn’t seem to care.  It’s stupid but after the week I’ve had I just blew up in her face.  I didn’t mean to, but she just wouldn’t leave me alone.  So I ran out because I couldn’t stand being around her another second,” Sakura finally looked up at him.  “I’m sorry for barging in.  I should have called…” 

“I can understand the way you’re feeling.  My father is the same way.  That’s the reason why we all moved out at the same time.  He kept pressuring me to go back to school so that I could run his business.  He thinks running the gym isn’t enough, but when I’m ready I’ll go back.  I think your mom is just worried that you’ll get comfortable working for Tsunade and not want to try.  She may have gone about it the wrong way, but she’s coming from a good place,” Gaara said.  

“Yeah, you’re right.  Do you mind if I stay here for a while to cool down?” Sakura asked looking completely exhausted.  

“I don’t mind.  You can stay the night if you want.  The rain is pretty bad out there.  I’m surprised you made it over here in one piece.  I would feel better if you stayed.” 

“I don’t want to intrude…”  Gaara just gave her a look.  “Okay okay, I’ll stay.” 

“Please let your parents know where you are at least,” Gaara said as he stood up to put their empty cups in the sink.  “So what do you want to do?” 

“Whatever you were doing before I got here,” Sakura said with a smile.  

Gaara walked back towards her and gently scooped her up and walked over to his bedroom.  Sakura had never seen it before.  Normally they would just hang out in the living room and kitchen.  When he turned on the light and dropped her on his bed, she finally got to see what his room looked like.  

The walls were a light grey color.  He had black curtains covering the single window next to his bed.  His desk was in the other corner of the room.  She could see different documents about the gym and his laptop on the desk.  The room was very neat and clean.  Everything had its order, even the knick-knacks that covered his TV display.  His room literally could have been in a magazine, except for his personal touches and posters.  

“Not a dark dungeon, like you thought it would be?” Gaara asked with a smirk.  He was sitting at his desk after he put her on the bed.  “I just have to finish up a few things.  Do you want me to turn on the TV?”

“Yeah if you don’t mind,” Saura said as she got under the covers.  Gaara got up to change it to a show that Sakura liked, and kept the volume low so that if she wanted to sleep she could.  When he gave her the remote he tucked her in to make sure she was comfortable and kissed her on her forehead.  

Gaara finished his work in record time.  He closed his laptop and slipped into his bed.  This was the first time that he and Sakura would be sharing a bed.  He had no intention of trying anything, he was just happy to have her so close and to wake up next to her.  Sakura rolled over when he got into bed.  

“Hey,” she said as he pulled her closer.  “You know I like you right?” 

“This sounds familiar, but yes I do,” Gaara chuckled as he settled in next to her.  

“I think I want you to be my boyfriend… If you’ll have me,” Sakura said as she buried her face into his chest.  They both tensesd at her words, but Gaara just did it because he felt excited.  He knew they had mutual feelings for each other, but he was waiting for the right moment to ask Sakura if they could put a label on what was going on between them for the last few months.  

“Yes, I’ll have you.  Of course, I’ll have you,” Gaara said, pulling her in as close as he could.  His night had started off in a strange way, but he wouldn’t change it for anything. 

[the-duke-of-deodorant]

Y’allsehood 1/?

*it’s finally here owo* 

Chapter summary: Logan is introduced to the town and many of the new people in it. He finds out more about Remus’ powers the town always talked about and began to see what the Duke was really capable of.  Ships: Logicallity, some Analogical Warnings: Supernatural powers, violent unsympathetic Remus, abusive relationship (creativtwins), beating, major character death (referenced), weapons, referenced mass shootings, dark magic/hallucinations, drinking, sympathetic Virgil,  Characters: Logan, Patton, Virgil, Remy, Remus, Roman (referenced- Character!Thomas) Word count: 2739 POV: 3rd Thank you @stop-it-anxiety for beta reading! (and starting this whole trainwreck. It’s great) 

The town felt oddly familiar, too similar to the one Logan moved away from to start all over here. He blended in with everyone busying around and getting to wherever it was they needed to go. His horse slowed down to a careful trot and he moved through the crowd. In his old town the rich got around with horses and carriages, but this didn’t seem to be the case here. Most got around on foot, which helped make the town look less crowded when traveling though it but made it harder for Logan to make sure no one was standing in front of his so he wouldn’t crash into anyone. A horrible first impression of the soon to be new sheriff.

This place has been without any sort of law system for around a month now since the death of the old sheriff, who had lost a fight and was practically beaten to death by the town’s best criminal. It wasn’t the beating that killed him but the shot right after, but that didn’t matter now. What mattered is that he was dead and not what it was that killed him. What mattered is that Logan was there now and was able to help, no matter what it took. Even if he had to go through the same painful death Thomas did. Despite what everyone said he wasn’t scared like he was supposed to be. That’s what made him such a good sheriff, he didn’t believe in fear. He didn’t believe he could feel any sort of fear anyway. It felt unnatural not to flinch when a gun was pointed at him, but that’s what happened. There was no way of explaining it.

Crofters was tied to the fence of the house he would be staying in for a while with his partner he had yet to meet, Patton. Thomas’ old deputy, and now his. He’s heard the name plenty of times going through the town mixed in with his own. He heard Patton was nice. Almost too nice, and let people get away with a little more than what they were supposed to. Thomas was the same way he heard, but that was going to change fast now that he was here. No one is going to get away with hurting people because the law is too scared to fight them. Sure, Thomas wasn’t scared in the moment. Look where that got him. He became the reason everyone was scared.

—————

Logan and Patton traveled by foot to blend in with the rest of the town. This place seemed much bigger than his old home, and there were many more shops and restaurants and theatres to go to if anyone had some time to kill on a normal day. The two of them were stopped at a bulletin board posted in the center of town, with plenty of random papers stapled to the board from places wanting to hire, missing posters, and the town's most wanted. All of the posters could already be seen splattered on walls and posts and trees, and this was just another reminder those same famous criminals existed. The face he saw in most places was Remus. That same picture with his crazy smile and clown-ish looking outfit printed in black and white all over. The same poster was stapled multiple times on the board mixed in with the rest of them.

MOST WANTED:

REMUS SANDERS “DUKE”

Charged with:

-Kidnapping and abuse of Roman Sanders

-Killing over 100 passengers on a stolen train

-Contributions to the black market

-Seriously this guy killed like 50 people just riding through town just turn him in plz.

REWARD: $150,000

“One hundred fifty thousand…” Logan stares at the picture, the Duke’s wild hair and crazy smile printed into the paper nailed to the board in the center of town. “No wonder this town was in need of a sheriff. This guy probably killed the last one.”

“Aren’t you scared?” Patton asks, Logan’s new assigned deputy. They had met only a few hours ago, and decided to spend time together walking through town to help Logan get more familiar with the city and get to know his partner better before going into official business.

“Scared of what?”

“Getting killed?”

“Well, he hasn’t killed me yet, has he?” The picture on the poster amused him- how Remus looked exactly like a cliche criminal in the movies, mostly the moustache and cowboy hat that set him off like that. And his costume, like some sort of cowboy-clown. Logan takes the poster from the board and folds it, then slides it into his pocket to use for later.

“You know what happened to the last sheriff, right?” Patton’s voice was soft, watching the reflections in Logan’s glasses. He remembered everything. How much the other sheriff fought the beating and ended up shaking on the ground. And Remus finally put a bullet in his chest. Maybe he would have had some mercy if he hadn’t fought back so much. The two had always pushed each other to their limit until then, and Patton was there for all of it. He witnessed his death, but Remus didn’t know until he was charged of murder and Patton testified against him. He broke out of jail, and everyone was too scared to try him again.

“Of course,” Logan adjusted his glasses and let out a breath, starting to reimagine the story Patton had told him before. “And that’s why I need this job. I’m sorry for your old friend by the way, you guys were close.”

—————

Logan snuck out again around 10:00 after Patton had gone to bed, just to explore town again on his own and go into the things he was most curious about and could be most helpful to his work. The only thing they had done the first time was walk as Patton rambled about what there was to do here and all the people he knows and stories that came from certain buildings he liked to spend time in. Now he was alone, using his hat to help him blend in with the crowd and using the shadows after sunset to his advantage for blending in. Maybe a few people recognized him, but it was unlikely considering he hasn’t even started his job yet and since more people were here it was harder to tell when someone new came along. Less people crowded the streets at night, so at least he didn’t have to worry about moving through people anymore.

The only thing still open this late was a small tavern across from where Patton and Logan had found Remus’ poster. It looked fairly empty from what he could see, which wasn’t much of a surprise since most people drank during the day and started to go home once the sun began to set. From the window he could see it was dim and uncrowded, with only one or two people at the counters and no one sitting at the tables or dancing.

All eyes turned on him, all eyes being only two. The man behind the counter looked up immediately, as if he already recognized the man who walked in. The other slowly turned once he saw his friend was staring at something and met eyes with Logan as soon as he did. Both men dressed a bit strange, one of them wearing a purple vest- purple being an extremely rare color for clothes where he was from- with smoke colored bags under his eyes, and the other wore a leather jacket with a dark blue skirt that went down to his boots. The first one looked like he wanted to say something but couldn’t find the right words in the moment. Logan was the first one to speak up.

“I’m sorry to interrupt. I’m new here, I’m just exploring to get more familiar with the town.”

“You’re Logan?” The man in purple finally spoke, quickly changing the topic from whatever Logan was about to say.

“...Why does that matter?”

“Your name’s been going around like wildfire. We saw you walking with Patton out there a while ago. It’s not that hard to connect the dots.” The man gestured to the open seat next to him, inviting Logan to come sit with the two of them. “May I offer you a drink?”

“I shouldn’t. I have a big day tomorrow.”

“Then come sit with us and tell us what you’ve learned so far.” Logan didn’t move. “You’re gonna be sheriff, you gotta know your stuff. Do you know any of the top criminals here? You’ll be working against them.” Logan reached in his pocket for the flyer and tossed it at the counter in front of Virgil.

“Remus Sanders. Worth $150,000 dead or alive. The average criminal is like 50 or 60 thousand.”

“He killed a lot of people,” Remy said. “Important people too. That’s why you’re here.” Virgil never said anything, but kept staring at the picture and re-reading the words on the flyer. Virgil slams the flyer back down to the table.

“How long do you really think you’re gonna last here? Be honest.”

“If all goes well I plan on staying until retirement.” Virgil went quiet. “Listen you might not believe me right now but I’ve done this before and I can do it again. This guy isn’t any different than anyone else I’ve arrested. With me here now all of this is gonna stop. I’m not gonna let it keep going.”

“Why should I believe you?”

“It’s my job. Someone has to do it.” Virgil tried not to look at his smile. “Things are gonna change here.”

—————

The real first day Remus was the only thing set on Logan’s mind. Town’s most wanted. Most wanted. As his days in the new town grew he learned more and more about the highest criminal. No one was able to arrest him, and everyone who tried didn’t make it. Even if they could, Remus seemed like someone that could break out in a matter of days. Still, all the chaos he was bringing had to be ended somehow. He heard stories of his brother, the only one of his victims that didn’t end up buried in the ground. His mind wandered as the horse sped up, starting to make him lose balance. The grip on Crofter’s saddle grew tighter fighting against the wind as his mind returned to the dirt path in front of him and his horse.

The image that was in his mind came to life as they pulled up closer to the scene they were heading towards. The two were called to handle one of Remus’ episodes with his brother. Past the train tracks, Remus had his brother tied to a thin tree with rope. No weapons were seen, yet the prince appeared like he had been mentally beaten. Defeated. Normally the crimes involving his twin were ignored since no one is killed in the crime, and most were too afraid to involve themselves in the Duke’s presence.

Logan thought differently about letting him get away with it, whatever he was doing to him. Maybe he was scared knowing the Duke had magic unlike normal humans. No one knows where they came from, and only Roman had been able to witness it and survive. Yet he kept quiet. No one seemed to blame him for it either. Virgil had seen a glimpse of what he could do and bailed before anything could happen. He described darkness taking over everything in his vision, and controlled hallucinations in the corner of his eyes, then he escaped and hadn’t seen Remus in person since. They talked about his powers, and Logan got the whole story when he made himself heard to the boy behind the counter dressed in purple leather and dark eyeshadow surrounding his eyes. Make up looking similar to Remus’ on the paper he stole off the town’s most wanted board.

The two horses had slowed down to a halt on the other side of the tracks. From a distance it didn’t look like much, in comparison to the other things Remus has done anyway. The scene was exactly how they had been told. The victim was tied to a tree, no longer trying to escape, and there weren’t any weapons being used, though from a distance you could see weapons hiding in the Duke’s pockets in his costume. This was the first time Logan had seen Remus in person. Real. Not just some story that had been told to him in the tavern by local drunkards. Real criminal, real crime. Though no magic had been seen where Remus and his brother had been standing. That was the hardest part for Logan to believe.

Patton seemed a little more on edge than usual. He stared at the Duke, watching his smooth gestures toward the prince in fear of what he was saying to him unaware of the law’s presence behind them. Patton had dealt with the Duke’s chaos before, only he was the one to live. The past sheriff didn’t live, and that fact didn’t scare Logan as much as it should have. Not at the time anyway.

Without saying a word, Logan swung off his horse and tied it to another thin tree close to Patton’s. Patton stayed still, silent, They addressed the plan beforehand when Patton protested coming up to Roman’s rescue, so Patton wouldn’t have to interact with the Duke unless he had to. The fear was real, even if it had to be part of the job. Logan walked past the train tracks, pulling a gun from his belt to use if he needed to. He held it beside him so Remus wouldn’t see it as a threat stright to him, but still see the weapon to know not to do anything stupid.

“Excuse me, are you Remus?” The man ignored him, continuing his business with the man dressed in red. There was no mistaking him even from behind. His outfit, that made him look like a lime green clown more than anything. When no response came Logan repeated himself. “Mr. Sanders, we need to talk.” No response. After a moment Logan reached into his belt for his gun, then fired a warning shot that moved just pass his head, just enough to get him to turn around and acknowledge the sheriff behind him.

“You’ve got a nerve.” Remus turns, reaching for throwing stars in his shirt pocket in case he needed to use them on his intruder. “...Sheriff? Oh, they must have hired a new one.”

“Sorry to interrupt, but I’m afraid playtime is over. Time to let him go.”

“Who told you to come up here?”

“There was a report of a goblin harassing a young prince. I have reason to believe that’s you.” The Duke stopped, taking slow steps toward the sheriff. “This is only a warning. Let him go and we can all move on with our lives, if you protest I have right to arrest.”

“Arrest me?” The Duke laughs. “You haven’t heard the stories, have you?”

“I have. I believe you haven’t seemed to hear anything of me before.” The Duke waited for him to continue. “I don’t have fear. That’s what made me so good in my old town. Must be some sort of magic like yours.”

“That explains it. To come here during brother’s playtime you must be crazy or have a death wish. You seem to be the first one, crazy.” Logan stuttered at the strange nickname he was given. Remus isn’t a normal criminal. Well, he found that on the first day exploring town with Patton. Most criminals he worked with before never used any cute nicknames. “You know about my magic?” The cheer in the Duke’s voice was strange, interested in whatever it was Logan was about to say.

“I’ve heard stories…” A wave of darkness takes over the nature surrounding the three until the only thing Logan would see was the green and black figure standing in front of him. Remus.

“Don’t believe in magic, do ya? Not before anyway.” Logan never moved. Remus reached in his pocket and pulled out a knife and made a cutting motion where the prince was once standing, pointing over to where Patton would be standing if it were for the cloud of darkness blocking his vision.

*leaves on cliffhanger cuz this is already super long as is and I already promised I would post this like three days ago*

Next Masterlist

Taglist: @cats-fandom-universe-room @ramsiasofthesea @emmydragon @krisdoesart @rainbab @jade7he9em @idunnosong @mr-candalous @lexilucacia @royalnerd829 @not-in-my-good-gucci-household @optimistic-violinist @wigsnatchedhoteltrivago @winterrs-child @stop-it-anxiety @canvas-the-florist @monstercupcake61176 @katie-the-noble-fangirl @flowersheep @ms-top-hat @skruffy901 @idkwhyimhere0o0 @laytonsartblog @starryfirefliesbloggo @remusthedukeofdeodorant @thecatchat @znikitrash @awkwardandanxiousfander @nowletmeseeyourkezzhands @prox-xima @artist-of-insanity @hela-daughter-of-loki @sanders-stuffs

[megs-writing]

Y’allsehood

Ships: Logicallity, Analogical Warnings: Supernatural powers, violent unsympathetic Remus, abusive relationship (creativitwins), beating, major character death (referenced), weapons, referenced mass shootings, dark magic/hallucinations, drinking, sympathetic Virgil, (if I need to add anything to the warnings please let me know!)  Characters: Logan, Patton, Virgil, Remy, Remus, Roman (referenced- Character!Thomas) Word count: 2739 Thank you @stop-it-anxiety for beta reading! (and starting this whole trainwreck. It’s great) 

 The town felt oddly familiar, too similar to the one Logan moved away from to start all over here. He blended in with everyone busying around and getting to wherever it was they needed to go. His horse slowed down to a careful trot and he moved through the crowd. In his old town the rich got around with horses and carriages, but this didn’t seem to be the case here. Most got around on foot, which helped make the town look less crowded when traveling though it but made it harder for Logan to make sure no one was standing in front of his so he wouldn’t crash into anyone. A horrible first impression of the soon to be new sheriff. 

This place has been without any sort of law system for around a month now since the death of the old sheriff, who had lost a fight and was practically beaten to death by the town’s best criminal. It wasn’t the beating that killed him but the shot right after, but that didn’t matter now. What mattered is that he was dead and not what it was that killed him. What mattered is that Logan was there now and was able to help, no matter what it took. Even if he had to go through the same painful death Thomas did. Despite what everyone said he wasn’t scared like he was supposed to be. That’s what made him such a good sheriff, he didn’t believe in fear. He didn’t believe he could feel any sort of fear anyway. It felt unnatural not to flinch when a gun was pointed at him, but that’s what happened. There was no way of explaining it. 

Crofters was tied to the fence of the house he would be staying in for a while with his partner he had yet to meet, Patton. Thomas’ old deputy, and now his. He’s heard the name plenty of times going through the town mixed in with his own. He heard Patton was nice. Almost too nice, and let people get away with a little more than what they were supposed to. Thomas was the same way he heard, but that was going to change fast now that he was here. No one is going to get away with hurting people because the law is too scared to fight them. Sure, Thomas wasn’t scared in the moment. Look where that got him. He became the reason everyone was scared. 

_ _ _ _ _ 

Logan and Patton traveled by foot to blend in with the rest of the town. This place seemed much bigger than his old home, and there were many more shops and restaurants and theatres to go to if anyone had some time to kill on a normal day. The two of them were stopped at a bulletin board posted in the center of town, with plenty of random papers stapled to the board from places wanting to hire, missing posters, and the town's most wanted. All of the posters could already be seen splattered on walls and posts and trees, and this was just another reminder those same famous criminals existed. The face he saw in most places was Remus. That same picture with his crazy smile and clown-ish looking outfit printed in black and white all over. The same poster was stapled multiple times on the board mixed in with the rest of them. 

MOST WANTED: 

REMUS SANDERS “DUKE”

Charged with:

-Kidnapping and abuse of Roman Sanders

-Killing over 100 passengers on a stolen train

-Contributions to the black market

-Seriously this guy killed like 50 people just riding through town just turn him in plz.

REWARD: $150,000 

“One hundred fifty thousand…” Logan stares at the picture, the Duke’s wild hair and crazy smile printed into the paper nailed to the board in the center of town. “No wonder this town was in need of a sheriff. This guy probably killed the last one.” 

“Aren’t you scared?” Patton asks, Logan’s new assigned deputy. They had met only a few hours ago, and decided to spend time together walking through town to help Logan get more familiar with the city and get to know his partner better before going into official business. 

“Scared of what?” 

“Getting killed?”

“Well, he hasn’t killed me yet, has he?” The picture on the poster amused him- how Remus looked exactly like a cliche criminal in the movies, mostly the moustache and cowboy hat that set him off like that. And his costume, like some sort of cowboy-clown. Logan takes the poster from the board and folds it, then slides it into his pocket to use for later. 

“You know what happened to the last sheriff, right?” Patton’s voice was soft, watching the reflections in Logan’s glasses. He remembered everything. How much the other sheriff fought the beating and ended up shaking on the ground. And Remus finally put a bullet in his chest. Maybe he would have had some mercy if he hadn’t fought back so much. The two had always pushed each other to their limit until then, and Patton was there for all of it. He witnessed his death, but Remus didn’t know until he was charged of murder and Patton testified against him. He broke out of jail, and everyone was too scared to try him again. 

“Of course,” Logan adjusted his glasses and let out a breath, starting to reimagine the story Patton had told him before. “And that’s why I need this job. I’m sorry for your old friend by the way, you guys were close.” 

_ _ _ _ _  

Logan snuck out again around 10:00 after Patton had gone to bed, just to explore town again on his own and go into the things he was most curious about and could be most helpful to his work. The only thing they had done the first time was walk as Patton rambled about what there was to do here and all the people he knows and stories that came from certain buildings he liked to spend time in. Now he was alone, using his hat to help him blend in with the crowd and using the shadows after sunset to his advantage for blending in. Maybe a few people recognized him, but it was unlikely considering he hasn’t even started his job yet and since more people were here it was harder to tell when someone new came along. Less people crowded the streets at night, so at least he didn’t have to worry about moving through people anymore.  

The only thing still open this late was a small tavern across from where Patton and Logan had found Remus’ poster. It looked fairly empty from what he could see, which wasn’t much of a surprise since most people drank during the day and started to go home once the sun began to set. From the window, he could see it was dim and uncrowded, with only one or two people at the counters and no one sitting at the tables or dancing. 

All eyes turned on him, all eyes being only two. The man behind the counter looked up immediately as if he already recognized the man who walked in. The other slowly turned once he saw his friend was staring at something and met eyes with Logan as soon as he did. Both men dressed a bit strange, one of them wearing a purple vest- purple being an extremely rare color for clothes where he was from- with smoke-colored bags under his eyes, and the other wore a leather jacket with a dark blue skirt that went down to his boots. The first one looked like he wanted to say something but couldn’t find the right words in the moment. Logan was the first one to speak up. 

“I’m sorry to interrupt. I’m new here, I’m just exploring to get more familiar with the town.” 

“You’re Logan?” The man in purple finally spoke, quickly changing the topic from whatever Logan was about to say. 

“...Why does that matter?” 

“Your name’s been going around like wildfire. We saw you walking with Patton out there a while ago. It’s not that hard to connect the dots.” The man gestured to the open seat next to him, inviting Logan to come sit with the two of them. “May I offer you a drink?” 

“I shouldn’t. I have a big day tomorrow.” 

“Then come sit with us and tell us what you’ve learned so far.” Logan didn’t move. “You’re gonna be sheriff, you gotta know your stuff. Do you know any of the top criminals here? You’ll be working against them.” Logan reached in his pocket for the flyer and tossed it at the counter in front of Virgil. 

“Remus Sanders. Worth $150,000 dead or alive. The average criminal is like 50 or 60 thousand.” 

“He killed a lot of people,” Remy said. “Important people too. That’s why you’re here.” Virgil never said anything, but kept staring at the picture and re-reading the words on the flyer. Virgil slams the flyer back down to the table. 

“How long do you really think you’re gonna last here? Be honest.” 

“If all goes well I plan on staying until retirement.” Virgil went quiet. “Listen you might not believe me right now but I’ve done this before and I can do it again. This guy isn’t any different than anyone else I’ve arrested. With me here now all of this is gonna stop. I’m not gonna let it keep going.” 

“Why should I believe you?” 

“It’s my job. Someone has to do it.” Virgil tried not to look at his smile. “Things are gonna change here.” 

_ _ _ _ _

The real first day Remus was the only thing set on Logan’s mind. Town’s most wanted. Most wanted. As his days in the new town grew he learned more and more about the highest criminal. No one was able to arrest him, and everyone who tried didn’t make it. Even if they could, Remus seemed like someone that could break out in a matter of days. Still, all the chaos he was bringing had to be ended somehow. He heard stories of his brother, the only one of his victims that didn’t end up buried in the ground. His mind wandered as the horse sped up, starting to make him lose balance. The grip on Crofter’s saddle grew tighter fighting against the wind as his mind returned to the dirt path in front of him and his horse. 

The image that was in his mind came to life as they pulled up closer to the scene they were heading towards. The two were called to handle one of Remus’ episodes with his brother. Past the train tracks, Remus had his brother tied to a thin tree with rope. No weapons were seen, yet the prince appeared like he had been mentally beaten. Defeated. Normally the crimes involving his twin were ignored since no one is killed in the crime, and most were too afraid to involve themselves in the Duke’s presence. 

Logan thought differently about letting him get away with it, whatever he was doing to him. Maybe he was scared knowing the Duke had magic unlike normal humans. No one knows where they came from, and only Roman had been able to witness it and survive. Yet he kept quiet. No one seemed to blame him for it either. Virgil had seen a glimpse of what he could do and bailed before anything could happen. He described darkness taking over everything in his vision, and controlled hallucinations in the corner of his eyes, then he escaped and hadn’t seen Remus in person since. They talked about his powers, and Logan got the whole story when he made himself heard to the boy behind the counter dressed in purple leather and dark eyeshadow surrounding his eyes. Makeup looking similar to Remus’ on the paper he stole off the town’s Most Wanted board. 

The two horses had slowed down to a halt on the other side of the tracks. From a distance, it didn’t look like much, in comparison to the other things Remus has done anyway. The scene was exactly how they had been told. The victim was tied to a tree, no longer trying to escape, and there weren’t any weapons being used, though from a distance you could see weapons hiding in the Duke’s pockets in his costume. This was the first time Logan had seen Remus in person. Real. Not just some story that had been told to him in the tavern by local drunkards. Real criminal, real crime. Though no magic had been seen where Remus and his brother had been standing. That was the hardest part for Logan to believe. 

Patton seemed a little more on edge than usual. He stared at the Duke, watching his smooth gestures toward the prince in fear of what he was saying to him unaware of the law’s presence behind them. Patton had dealt with the Duke’s chaos before, only he was the one to live. The past sheriff didn’t live, and that fact didn’t scare Logan as much as it should have. Not at the time anyway. 

Without saying a word, Logan swung off his horse and tied it to another thin tree close to Patton’s. Patton stayed still, silent, They addressed the plan beforehand when Patton protested coming up to Roman’s rescue, so Patton wouldn’t have to interact with the Duke unless he had to. The fear was real, even if it had to be part of the job. Logan walked past the train tracks, pulling a gun from his belt to use if he needed to. He held it beside him so Remus wouldn’t see it as a threat straight to him, but still see the weapon to know not to do anything stupid. 

“Excuse me, are you Remus?” The man ignored him, continuing his business with the man dressed in red. There was no mistaking him even from behind. His outfit, that made him look like a lime green clown more than anything. When no response came Logan repeated himself. “Mr. Sanders, we need to talk.” No response. After a moment Logan reached into his belt for his gun, then fired a warning shot that moved just pass his head, just enough to get him to turn around and acknowledge the sheriff behind him. 

“You’ve got a nerve.” Remus turns, reaching for throwing stars in his shirt pocket in case he needed to use them on his intruder. “...Sheriff? Oh, they must have hired a new one.” 

“Sorry to interrupt, but I’m afraid playtime is over. Time to let him go.” 

“Who told you to come up here?” 

“There was a report of a goblin harassing a young prince. I have reason to believe that’s you.” The Duke stopped, taking slow steps toward the sheriff. “This is only a warning. Let him go and we can all move on with our lives, if you protest I have right to arrest.” 

“Arrest me?” The Duke laughs. “You haven’t heard the stories, have you?” 

“I have. I believe you haven’t seemed to hear anything of me before.” The Duke waited for him to continue. “I don’t have fear. That’s what made me so good in my old town. Must be some sort of magic like yours.” 

“That explains it. To come here during brother’s playtime you must be crazy or have a death wish. You seem to be the first one, crazy.” Logan stuttered at the strange nickname he was given. Remus isn’t a normal criminal. Well, he found that on the first day exploring town with Patton. Most criminals he worked with before never used any cute nicknames. “You know about my magic?” The cheer in the Duke’s voice was strange, interested in whatever it was Logan was about to say. 

“I’ve heard stories…” A wave of darkness takes over the nature surrounding the three until the only thing Logan would see was the green and black figure standing in front of him. Remus. 

“Don’t believe in magic, do ya? Not before anyway.” Logan never moved. Remus reached in his pocket and pulled out a knife and made a cutting motion where the prince was once standing, pointing over to where Patton would be standing if it were for the cloud of darkness blocking his vision. 

Taglist: @winterrs-child @remusthedukeofdeodorant @thecatchat @stop-it-anxiety @znikitrash @awkwardandanxiousfander @nowletmeseeyourkezzhands @prox-xima @hela-daughter-of-loki @arcticfrostdoesthings @id-rather-go-live-in-a-trash-can @soupgromlin

[collecting-stories]

The Dating Game 3 - Jonathan Byers

Christmas and the end of the trilogy.

The Dating Game 1 2 3 - Jonathan Byers x reader

December 23rd, 1984

You looked through the window at the polaroid camera sitting on display. There was a poster above it, a photo array of people having fun and taking pictures with the camera, suggesting the same fun could be had if you purchased it. You worried your bottom lip between your teeth, balking at the taste of chapstick on your tongue a second later. The weather had been awful this winter and your lips were paying the price, constantly chapped from the cold air. If anyone did kiss you at midnight on New Years Eve they’d be risking getting their own lips sanded off from the roughness of yours. The camera though, the camera was taunting you and you knew it. It was the perfect gift, but was it the perfect gift from you?  

Jonathan’s love of photography was something everyone in Hawkins seemed keen on. He always had a camera around his neck. Usually that old vintage one you’d seen in his room on Thanksgiving. It’d been sitting on his bedside table and the more you looked at it the more you thought that what Jonathan Byers deserved more than anything in the world was something new. Something special. Something like this polaroid camera sitting in the window of Radioshack. Those marketing teams really knew how to pull on your heartstrings. But while you wanted nothing more than to give Jonathan something truly special, like that camera, you couldn’t help wondering if that camera was really something he would want from you? Maybe it was better suited from his mom or Will or Nancy even.  

Thanksgiving had ended with an awkward goodbye on the porch of his house after the sun had been down for awhile. After Joyce’s dinner you and Jonathan had gone back to his room where you listened to more music and begged him to show you some of his photos when you saw the camera on the nightstand.  

“They’re not really of anything.”

“Well they have to be of something.” You laughed, making grab hands for the photo album that he kept. It didn’t take much begging for Jonathan to hand over the photo album. He stood, watching as you set the album on your lap and turned through the pages, spending time on each one. The more you looked the more fidgety he felt, picking at the hem of his shirt, shifting through his cassettes, running his fingers through his hair. Until finally you closed the book, “these are amazing Jonathan.”

“Oh,” he looked surprised, “thank you.”  

You hadn’t been saying it for the sake of giving him a compliment or even because you thought he was cute. You’d said it because it was true, he was a good photographer. And you were truly impressed. Impressed enough to be standing here days from Christmas, freezing in front of a window display for a camera that cost more than you had ever considered spending on any of your friends.  

But that wasn’t just because he was an exceptional photographer. It also had everything to do with the end of the night. The part that was still playing on a reel in your head, like a bad movie stuck on a continuous loop. Everything had been fine. Jonathan had walked you out to the porch when you announced it was time for you to head home.  

“Thanks for having me over for dinner.” You zipped your jacket as you stood with him on the porch, directly under the light. “I really appreciate it.”

“Yeah, you’re welcome. I...it was nice.” Jonathan replied, hands in his back pockets.  

“Okay well, goodbye.” You announced, stepping away from him, ready to leave.  

“See ya.” His mouth twitched like he was about to smile and then didn’t. Instead he just nodded his head awkwardly.  

And then it happened. You rocked forward on the balls of your feet and you kissed Jonathan Byers on the mouth. It was a quick kiss, hardly anything more than lips touching. Just as quickly as you had kissed him you had pulled away, stumbling backward as if in shock and walking to your car. Jonathan stood there, mouth agape, staring at you as you bumped into the side of your car and fiddled with the lock until finally you were able to get the key in correctly. You weren’t sure how long Jonathan stayed outside, eventually you couldn’t see him in the rearview anymore.  

You went home and called Steve because you didn’t know who else to freak out to about kissing Jonathan Byers. He had news of his own, though it wasn’t a kiss Nancy had agreed to another date and this time she was calling it a date. You had spent a great deal of the month of December avoiding Jonathan because the more time Nancy spent with Steve the more you felt like you had double crossed Jonathan and potentially ruined the English assignment you no longer cared about.  

So for the rest of November and the first half of December you avoided Jonathan at all cost. But then Nancy showed up at your locker after school to invite you to a Christmas get together at her house. It would be the four of you and her brother’s friends but she said there was a pollyanna and presented you a handful of popsicle sticks held tight in her fist.

“Pick one?” She asked, “I’ve already had Jonathan and Steve pick theirs and I’ve picked mine.”  

Had she already invited Jonathan? When? You felt like your Byers Radar was in overdrive ever since you kissed him so you were surprised you hadn’t noticed him talking to Nancy in the hallway or in class. Unless they didn’t, unless they were hanging out after school. Which was fine because you still hung out with Steve most afternoons except you couldn’t help the overwhelming feeling of envy that sprouted in you thinking of Jonathan and Nancy spending time together. Did they sit on his bed listening to mixtapes too?  

“Sure.” You nodded and grabbed a stick. “I got Jonathan.” The popsicle stick had Jonathan’s name written in sharpie. Of all the people you could have chosen. Not El, or Will, or Mike, or even Steve. But Jonathan.  

“Lucky.” She laughed, “I got Max...I’ve got no idea what to get her.” You closed your locker and shouldered your backpack and Nancy walked with you toward the double doors, continuing to talk. “I mean what do you get that kid? What does she like?”

“Beats me.” You replied, shrugging your shoulders. You’d probably only seen Max a handful of times at work and hardly ever talked to her. “Is there a price limit?”

“Figured five dollars is good?” She answered, though posed it as a question.  

“Yeah that’s fine with me.”

The camera was more than five dollars. Still you couldn’t help yourself, it just screamed Jonathan and you wanted to do something nice for him. He deserved something nice. Something special. It was December 23rd and you still hadn’t spoken to him. If ever there was a more awkward pollyanna you hadn’t heard about it. You were supposed to show up tonight for the Christmas party and give a present to someone you hadn’t spoken to in an entire month? Five dollars might be too much money. Still you made up your mind.  

You wrapped your gift when you got home, some cheesy Christmas wrapping paper that your mother had left over in the storage boxes when she left your dad. It was bright green with santas all over it and you felt silly, wrapping up a box of camera film. You had asked Will yesterday when he and Mike had stopped by the arcade, what kind of camera Jonathan used specifically so you could get him the film. That was well within the price range and still you wished it was something better. Something special.  

Mrs. Wheeler had gone over the top with the Christmas decorations, lights outlined the entirety of the house as you pulled into the driveway, Steve in the passenger buzzing about having gotten Dustin as his pollyanna. Normally you would have paid attention. In the few short months that you had known Steve the two of you had become something close to best friends. Fake dating someone could do that to a person. Though that rouse was supposed to have ended with Thanksgiving it seemed Carol and Tommy weren’t quite finished believing the lie and Steve had let them.  

“It’s almost done. Just a couple more weeks...Nancy’s on the fence.”

“That’s what you’ve been saying since she broke up with you at Halloween, it’s almost Christmas.”  

“Please,” he begged.  

“Fine, okay...alright.”

Jonathan’s gray car pulled in behind yours and Steve waved as he got out of your car. Will smiled and waved back but Jonathan was preoccupied, watching you take a present out of the back seat. There were two in the silly green wrapping and he thought maybe one was Steve’s. He had wanted to talk to you so many times after Thanksgiving but every time he saw you in the hallway or at the arcade or in class he froze. He wanted to ask you what the kiss meant. Why had you kissed him? Was it because you liked him or was it just a thank you for having invited you to Thanksgiving dinner? Did Steve know you had kissed him, had you kissed Steve too?  

If you had Byers Radar then Jonathan had a radar on you too. Will joked that he had spidey-senses when it came to you. He noticed you all the time, watched the way you chatted in the hallway with your friends. With Steve. Did you regret kissing him at Thanksgiving? Or did it never cross your mind? You didn’t talk to him about the project outside of English class and when you did talk it was only about the project.  

“Merry Christmas,” you offered, and Jonathan swallowed to calm his nerves as he met your eyes. You were smiling at him and he felt the beginnings of butterflies fluttering against his stomach and stirring up his nerves. You held your arms out and he moved toward you subconsciously, letting you wrap him in a hug. He didn’t want to pull away but you beat him to it, moving on to hug Will and wish him the same sentiment. Was it possible to be jealous of his brother? Just for a second.  

Steve led the way into the house and then it was more ‘Merry Christmases’ and ‘hellos’ and hugs. Jonathan took a seat on the smaller couch once he’d hugged enough people. Mike’s friends seemed to have taken up the floor in front of the tree while he and El sat on the larger couch with Nancy. Will took the armchair. You sat down beside Jonathan while Steve pulled a kitchen chair in to sit next to Nancy. Jonathan frowned, watching the way Steve leaned against the arm of the couch to be closer to his ex-girlfriend. Did that not bother you? Had something happened between you and Steve? If it had why had you driven here with him?  

Mike went first and then it progressed in a circle. Mike got Lucas, Lucas got El, El got Steve, Steve got Dustin, Dustin got Nancy, Nancy got Max, Max got Will, Will got you, you got Jonathan and he got Mike. You passed your gift to Jonathan, a small box wrapped in hideous paper that he took time to open.  

“Oh, wow...um thanks.” He nodded his head and gripped the film in his hands.  

“You’re welcome, Merry Christmas.” You threw in for good measure. Will had given you a keychain he had made in art class out of polymer clay. It was brightly colored and had your name carved into it. The gift warranted a hug and you got off the couch and went to the armchair to hug the younger Byers. Jonathan’s eyes didn’t leave you and he felt that same spark of jealousy as he had in the driveway, wishing he could make you smile like that. But he hadn’t gotten you for pollyanna. Although there was a newspaper wrapped gift in the trunk of his car that had your name on it all the same.  

Once the gifting was done Nancy brought out trays of food that Mrs. Wheeler had fixed for the group before being hurried out of the house. You excused yourself to the bathroom while she laid out the food on the coffee table and once inside you locked the door. You put down the toilet seat in the small powder room and sat down, taking a breath. Sitting next to Jonathan made you think of Thanksgiving and watching Steve with Nancy you wished that you could have such an easy time talking to Jonathan. But you felt like your throat closed up every time you talked to him and he hadn’t even looked at you when he opened his present.  

Did he like it? What if he didn’t? What if he had heaps of film lying around and film wasn’t anything special to him. Like giving him toothpaste or socks. You might as well have bought him a hairbrush the way he looked at the film in his hands. There was a knock on the door and you hit the faucet just to make it sound like you were doing something other than making yourself crazy thinking about Jonathan. You checked yourself in the mirror and then opened the door.

“Oh!” You stepped back as you came face to face with Jonathan standing against the opposite walk. He had his hands behind his back and his coat on. “Uh, hey.”

“Hey, sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.” He apologized, “I uh, can I give you something?”

“Sure, yeah of course.”  

While you had disappeared into the bathroom, trying to relax your nerves, Jonathan had slipped out to his car. He wasn’t sure if you would like the gift he’d gotten you but he wanted to give it to you. He wanted you to smile and hug him the way you had his brother and he wanted that nagging feeling that you had forgotten all about Thanksgiving to go away. When you opened the door you looked so startled but so pretty at the same time.  

“You look really nice today.” Jonathan mentioned, taking the small package out of his pocket.  

“Thanks?” You laughed just a little and took the package he handed you.

“I didn’t get you for the uh, pollyanna but I wanted to give you this. Merry Christmas?” He said, ending it on a question, unsure of himself or the present he’d gotten.  

Jonathan had spent two days in his bedroom, listening to the radio, waiting for the perfect songs to come on. He’d made you a mix tape of all the best rock songs he could fit on the cassette. Every time Joyce asked him to do something for her he swore that he absolutely couldn’t and the one time he did, as he was washing the dishes after dinner, the sound of your favorite band came through the radio in his room. Jonathan cursed, dropping the plate he was holding and running to his room, grabbing the cassette to record the song. But his hands had been soapy and the suds had leaked into the tape and ruined it, costing him another cassette and an entire day. He would never tell you any of that but he knew how much trouble he had gone to. Will and Joyce had teased him about it all weekend.

“Oh my god,” you smiled as you pulled the newspaper off to reveal the cassette. You opened the case to read the songs that were on it. “Jonathan,” you said his name so softly that it made his chest tighten. You looked up at him, the smile still there and wrapped your arms around his shoulders. “Jonathan I love this, thank you.”

“I just...yeah it’s no problem.” Jonathan said but he wrapped his arms around you, letting himself enjoy the hug. He was reluctant to let go when you pulled away.  

You eyed the cassette again, “I can’t wait to listen to it.”  

“I’m glad you like it.”

“It’s the nicest gift I’ve gotten.” You insisted. The handmade keychain from his brother was pretty nice but the cassette meant so much more. “I really lucked out this year, you Byers give the nicest gifts.”

“I just, I wanted to do something nice for you. I uh,” Jonathan breathed out nervously and licked his lips, thinking of how he wanted to finish his sentence.  

You smiled and leaned forward, kissing him. Before you could let it become Thanksgiving all over again Jonathan’s hands came up to hold your face, kissing you back eagerly. He wouldn’t miss this chance again. Your hands went inside his jacket, gripping his shirt at the sides and trying to be closer to him, your tongue tracing over his lower lip. Jonathan had never ‘french’ kissed anyone before but he’d seen it plenty of times at school because Tommy’s locker was right by his and Carol was always sucking his face off before class. It felt a lot different than it looked though and he could only hope he was doing the right thing as he let you deepen the kiss.  

“Oh man, come on guys! There are kids here.” Steve’s voice cut through the hallway and you pulled away from Jonathan, though not completely.  

You almost seemed to hug him tighter, trying to bury yourself in his jacket from the initial embarrassment of being caught making out in Nancy Wheeler’s hallway. You turned your head away from Steve and laughed, tucking your face into Jonathan’s shoulder. He had dropped his hands, one arm awkwardly laying at his side while his other went to your shoulders only because he was unsure what else to do.  

“Beat it Steve.” You said, rolling your head to the side so you could see him. You released one arm from around Jonathan’s waist so you could flip your fake boyfriend off.  

“Some people these days.” Steve laughed, “well I’ll be eating all the food.” He backed out of the hallway and made his way back to the living room. You heard him say something to Nancy about you and Jonathan ‘sucking face’.  

“I don’t,” Jonathan pulled away completely, his face fraught with confusion, “I don’t...I thought you and Steve.”

“No, we uh...at Halloween,” you sighed. “I told him we were fake dating and he proposed me and him doing the same thing...so he could get Nancy back.”

“Does she know?” He asked, unsure what to say as he tried to catch up with what you were saying.

“I think so. I doubt she fell for it.”

“I did.”

“I’m sorry, I...I wanted to tell you but I didn’t think it mattered I mean, I didn’t know you.” You waved a hand between the two of you. “I didn’t know you liked me like that.”

Jonathan ran a hand through his hair and looked down the hallway, nervousness rolled off him in waves and stuffed up small space between you two until you were feeling the same nervous energy eating at your insides. Finally he looked to you and smiled, just the smallest hint of one, “Neither did I...until Thanksgiving.” He admitted. “But I thought you were with Steve.”

You couldn’t help the laugh that fell out then, followed by a soft chorus of laughter as you and Jonathan stood there in the hallway together, realizing what an absolute mess the two of you had gotten yourselves into. You kept thinking he still liked Nancy and he thought you were hung up on Steve and you’d made such a mess you couldn’t fathom how it’d gotten so out of control. He reached for your hand and pulled you close to him, kissing you once more though not as intensely as before. “Should we go out to the party?”

“We can’t stay in the hallway forever.” You teased, the smile on your face meant solely for him, something he was already getting used to.  

-

December 25th, 1984

You did Christmas morning the same way you had been doing Christmas morning since your mom left. The table top tree that served as the only decoration in the house sat lit up in front of the window with gifts beneath it as you sat on the floor drinking a cup of coffee and opening those designated for you. Your dad switched between paying attention and reading yesterday’s newspaper, sipping his own coffee. You had forgotten Jonathan’s other gift in the backseat of your car despite driving back to his house after the party was over. Though cameras and Christmas were the last things on your mind as he walked you to his room and shut the door. Will had stayed at Mike’s and Joyce was still at work. You’d spent the evening making out on his bed listening to the mix tape he made you. That is until Joyce did get home, Will in toe, and swung Jonathan’s door open to find the two of you sitting on his bed with his hand up your shirt and yours a little too close to the zipper of his jeans.  

“I don’t ask that much of you, but the rules are the rules and the rule is no girls in your room with the door closed. And especially no girls in this house when I or your brother are not home!” Joyce had shouted after making the two of you sit on the living room couch so she could ‘have a chat’. “I don’t want to have to call your father.”

“Please don’t.” You replied hastily. There was no way he was going to let you leave the house if he knew you had ended up at some guy’s house, even if you had gone to Nancy’s. He’d think you had lied to him about the whole thing.  

“I want you both to feel comfortable and happy and I get it, you’re teenagers and this is all new and you want to explore a little-”

“Mom.” Jonathan protested, face going beet red.

“What? I did a lot of exploring at your age trust me-”

“Mom!” Will shouted from the kitchen. “That’s so gross.”

“Just, keep the clothes on and the door open and if me or your brother aren’t home-”

“Okay, okay. We get it.” Jonathan replied, standing up from the couch.

“I should go anyway...my dad’ll be wondering where I am.”

“I’ll walk you out.”  

Jonathan had walked you to your car and just as he was about to kiss you goodbye the porch light flickered. He looked up to where Joyce was standing in the doorway, hand on the light switch inside, “no funny business in the car either. Trust me, it’s awful on your back.”

“Thanks Mrs. Byers.” You called as Jonathan dropped his head onto your shoulder and groaned. You ran a hand through his hair and whispered, “it’s okay I’ll risk it for you.”

If it was possible his face grew even redder.  

And still you forgot the camera. So after opening all your presents and watching your dad unenthusiastically open a gift he gave you the money to buy him you said that you wanted to stop by Nancy’s for a visit. You claimed her parents invited you and you knew once you left that your dad would never fact check that statement. Instead he’d spike some of the eggnog in the fridge and go downstairs to take a nap in his la-z-boy in the basement.  

You dressed for Jonathan’s, trying to look pretty and keeping in mind that you were dropping by on Christmas morning unannounced without knowing if they even liked visitors on the holiday. When your mom was still living with you she had always insisted that Christmas day was for family and any friends could wait until the 26th. Joyce seemed a lot more easygoing then your mom though so you hoped, as you rang the doorbell, that she wouldn’t turn you away.  

It was better than you’d hoped though. Jonathan opened the door in a pair of red and green pajamas that Joyce had talked the boys into wearing, his tired expression shifting to one of sheer embarrassment in a matter of seconds. He threw the door closed in your face and you had to stop yourself from laughing as you rang the doorbell once more.  

Joyce opened the door, “he’s changing.” She supplied as she welcomed you in. Will was at the table scarfing down pancakes and not worrying about the pjs.  

“I thought they were adorable.” You laughed as Jonathan came into the room, pulling a gray shirt over his head.

“They’re embarrassing and I said they would be.”

“Why cause your girlfriend saw you in them?” Will teased.  

“Can we please?” Jonathan grabbed your hand in his and began to lead you down the hall to his bedroom.

“Door open!” Joyce shouted, going back to breakfast with her youngest, “did you know she was coming over.”

“No, but she told me she forgot to give him a present.” Will shrugged.

“What is it?”

“I don’t know she said it was a surprise.”

Jonathan pushed the door almost completely shut, leaving enough of a crack that someone could see in if they walked passed without losing all of his privacy. He kicked the pajamas under the bed and motioned for you to sit. His room was messier than it had been on Thanksgiving and you had to smile, thinking he’d obviously cleaned it for you.  

“Sorry the uh, I didn’t get a chance to make the bed.”  

“S’okay. I just stopped by cause I have a present for you.” You replied, presenting him with the gaudily wrapped gift.  

“We exchanged presents.” Jonathan said, standing awkwardly. Though he’d called you both on the 23rd and the 24th he still felt a little nervous to be in his room with you again. He wasn’t sure if he should kiss you or sit next to you or at least say something to ease the tension he felt. You seemed at ease though as you waited for him to take the present.

“I know but, I saw this when I was getting your pollyanna and I just wanted to give you something special.” You confessed. Jonathan took the gift and pulled apart the wrapping paper, revealing the box that the polaroid came in. His eyes went wide and for a second he almost dropped it.  

“This is-” He looked back up at you, nervous excitement coursing through him. It was too much, the gift was more than he could have expected or asked for. But that didn’t erase the happiness he felt holding the camera in his hands. He’d seen it in the window of the Radio-shack on his way to visit his mom at work a couple times and had stopped to stare hungrily at it. If only.

“Don’t say it’s too much okay, cause it really isn’t.” You insisted.

“The film was a good gift.” Jonathan replied, finally taking a seat beside you so that he could open the camera box, “really it was plenty.”

“Jonathan-” You nudged his side, leaning into him. When he turned you kissed him quickly, “seriously just say thank you.”

He blushed and nodded his head, “thank you.”  

-

The trilogy is complete. and so is my entry for the writing challenge...sorry this is so long. 

taglist: @waiting4inspiration @cold-blooded-girls @thinkingsofamadwoman @mixedwiththemoon @titty-teetee  @queenmissfit @marvelismylifffe @iluvmesomemarvelndc @absentmindeduniverse @his-paradox @medievalfangirl 

[redshirtgal]

“Space Seed” is one of the few episodes where Sulu is not manning the helm as usual. In his place is Lt. Singh who appears to be every bit as grim-faced as his colleague, Navigator Lt. Hadley. He appears to be every bit as competent as Sulu is as well. It is Lt. Spinelli Kirk orders to lock on the unidentified earth vessel with the tractor beam.

But Lt. Spinelli has a more social side too. Look at this guy, sidling up to Miss Uhura and finagling a way to sit beside her at the dinner in honor of their new “guest,” who just happens to be named Khan Noonien Singh. No relation, of course. And we know what else happens... Khan and his “supermen” take over, the Captain is thrown in a decompression chamber while Spock, McCoy, Scotty, Spinelli, etc. are forced to watch... but then McGivers frees Kirk, who in turn rescues Spock before he is thrown to the same fate, yadda yadda. But then, you get this great shot....

“Hey, they MADE me eat those beans, Spinelli!”

Tsk, tsk Doctor.  No wonder Kirk was going to give Spinelli (among others) a commendation before he passed out. He knew Bones had brought his famous Kentucky bourbon beans to the table. But all ends well, although after this incident Lt. Spinelli evidently asks for a transfer since we no longer see him after this episode. There’s only so much an officer should be made to endure.  However, we soon learn that Spinelli has a cousin from India who works down in the Auxiliary Control Room.

You can tell Lt. Singh is related to Lt. Spinelli - they both have that very intense look/scowl when either something is wrong or when concentration is needed. In “The Changeling” Lt. Singh doesn’t appear to be that thrilled when Captain Kirk leaves Nomad in his care.

That stare gets REALLY intense as Nomad starts to move around the Auxiliary Control Room. I mean, look at that crease going from one eyebrow over to the other via that deep crease across the nose. Now that’s some kind of scowl he’s got going on there.

Then Singh comes mighty close to getting a Nomad probe... just kidding. Actually, Nomad has just activated itself and Lt. Singh, as requested by his captain, asks it what it needs.  But later, when he realizes Nomad is headed in Uhura’s direction, he decides to call Captain Kirk.  At least his facial muscles seem to have relaxed. He’s not going to meet the same fate that some of his redshirt buddies will endure later in the episode.

But let’s back up... just who was this actor with the smoking hot stare and that razor sharp jawline? His birth name is Makee Kalaikinipeapal Blaisdell , but he was known by multiple variations of that name. Memory Alpha has him listed as Blaisdel Makee. Yet he also appeared under Makee K. Blaisdel, Blaizdel MaKee, Blaisdel McKee, and 6 other similar credits.  And as you may have guessed, he was a native Hawaiian. As the newspaper story above indicates, he graduated from Brigham Young University with a major in theater arts. Before that, he was a star athlete in high school as well as a swimmer and a surfer. But it seemed to take Makee Blaisdell a while to find steady work in acting. Glancing again at the newspaper article, we can see he was working as a salesperson while acting both in community theater and on television.

One of Blaisdell’s first television roles was that of Sgt. Alika in Hawaiian Eye. He appeared in several episodes before moving onto roles on other shows such as I Spy and Star Trek. But sadly, he seemed to be often cast as either a Native American or an Hispanic, such as in the role of Romeo Sangria in the Ironside episode titled “The Sacrifice��� or as the soldier seen above at the checkpoint in the pilot episode of Mission Impossible. 

Hey, his buddy from “Space Seed,” Eddie Paskey shows up in this episode too. It’s one of the few acting roles Eddie ever had outside of Star Trek.

But does this guy ever smile?  Actually, you get the best Makee Blaisdell smiles ever in the following production.

Blaisdell did have one outstanding although not well known film role - that of Johnny Lingo in the short film (23 minutes)  of the same name. Financed by the Church of the Latter Day Saints (of which Makee and many Hawaiians are members), it tells the story of a successful trader who also happened to be a highly sought after bachelor and a quite handsome one at that (who oddly also has an intense stare). One day he shows up at the hut of a poor farmer named Moki to bargain over how many cows he will offer in exchange for Moki’s daughter Mahanna. The villagers are amazed because everyone knows....

And that’s Moki saying that about his own daughter. So the villagers begin to debate just how many cows (or how few) Johnny will wind up paying. Because everyone knows he is a shrewd bargainer. The top price for a bride appears to be around about...

And then her friend just has to mention that her husband paid five for her. Oops. But that does establish the top price. Anyway, Moki is concerned he may be lucky to get one cow. And then Johnny Lingo arrives. The villagers all gather outside the tent while Johnny and Moki go inside to bargain. Moki opens with three cows and Johnny counters with...

Whoa... it turns out Johnny Lingo has been in love with Mahana since they were children and is not about to let anyone think she is not worthy, despite what they see when they look at her. So how well does this work out? Pretty well, actually. Before the couple left on their honeymoon, Johnny had ordered a rather ornate hand mirror for a wedding gift which the local trading post owner had to special order. When word spreads that the Lingos have returned, the merchant decides to bring the mirror to their hut. Johnny is quite pleased with the mirror and calls for his wife to come greet their guest. The merchant turns around and .... surprise!

Mahna has been transformed into quite a beauty. Or maybe she was actually a beauty and no one else saw it. This is the end result of Johnny Lingo being willing to build up her self-esteem by treating her as if she were beautiful all along despite what everyone else sees. As terribly dated and possibly culturally insensitive as this movie would be seen today, it does teach a good lesson in a charming way. And Makee Blaisdell turns in a very nice performance as the lead character. If you care to watch it, here is the YouTube link. https://youtu.be/pfahoLfrddU The movie has been remade into a feature length film with a slightly less offensive story but film critics still seem to think the original gets to the point a lot more clearly. And if you bother to look up the new version, its lead is nowhere close to being as handsome as Blaisdell. Plus FINALLY - we get to see that beautiful smile is its fully glory. Unfortunately, this was his crowning achievement in the movies. He managed to land the lead in one last movie based on the Charlie Manson cult murders.

(Poster courtesy of Duffy Films Limited) Many movies tried to cash in on the La Bianca/Tate murders committed by Charles Manson and his followers. The Cult is a soft porn version of the events with Makee Blaisdell (credited as Blaisdell Makee) as Invar who was plainly meant to represent Charles Manson. One third of the movie is devoted to Ivor picking up girls to be part of his family. The few bits of originality in the plot are 1) besides knives, the girls employ whips and medieval torture devices in the murders and 2) while the murders are going on, Ivor is lying inside a coffin in a hearse outside in the driveway and 3) Charlie...er, Invar.. is the way he is because of an earlier incestuous relationship with his mother . Yeah, it’s that bad.

The film is known by a host of other names, including the misleading title The Manson Massacres. Other names included The Love Cult and The Together Girls. It’s known in Germany as Töchter des Satans (Daughters of Satan). Oddly, the only way you can find this gem today is as a German dubbed version with no English subtitles. Yeah, it’s that bad. If you want to see how bad, be my guest.  https://youtu.be/aFXiSEI5B6o By the way, take a good look at the above publicity photo. That’s Makee Blaisdell as Ivor on the left, but do you recognize the only other male in this photo? That’s Sean Kenney who played both the disfigured Captain Pike in the two part episode “The Menagerie” and navigator/helmsman Lt. DePaul.

Unfortunately, this seems to have been the end of the road for Makee’s career in the film industry. It’s likely he continued acting in local community theater but there does not seem to be much on him after his last film in 1971. According to several sources he died in Ventura, California at the young age of 57 in 1988. No information can be found on a cause of death.

Two final interesting pieces of Star Trek trivia.  First, a piece of background to Makee’s role as Spinelli in “The Changeling.” This episode was taped before the appearance of Chekov. Makee had heard George Takei would be gone for many weeks during the taping of his part in The Green Beret. This led him to believe perhaps he might be hired as Takei’s replacement during that period of time since he had already filled the navigator’s chair before in “Space Seed.”Sadly, he found out that was not meant to be. Walter Koenig was waiting in the wings to appear as Chekov in the next episode to be filmed, “The Apple.” But that didn’t mean Blaisdel had not made a good impression on the production team. Several sources say that Makee was one of the people along with  Lawrence Montaigne who was considered as a replacement for Leonard Nimoy in case Nimoy made good on his threat to leave after the second season. And take a look at those faces above. Could even Mr. Spock sustain a stare that intense?

[lovemesomesurveys]

Let’s Start With Some Firsts What is your first name? Stephanie. Who was the first person you spoke to in person today? My brother.  Who was the first person you spoke to on the phone today? No one so far. It’s only 1:49AM, so I guess that could change. What was your first pet? We had a dog named Buster when I was like 3 or 4.

What was your first job? I haven’t had one.

What was the first school you attended? A local preschool. 

How long was your first relationship? Two months. Who was the first person to break your heart? Joseph. First person to give you flowers or candy on Valentine’s day? My mom has always given me candy and a stuffed animal or some other gift on Valentine’s Day. I’ve never received flowers, though. Well, unless you count the candy roses my high school sold, ha.  First band you obsessed about? I mean, I was into NSYNC and Backstreet Boys when I was a kid, but the first band I really fangirled and got super involved with was the Jonas Brothers. That was like the first fandom I was really apart of. There was a website that had message boards and a chat room, and I was on those all the time (I made a few awesome online friends through that). I had their posters all over, their CDs, watched all their interviews and performances, and got to see them in concert a few times. First place you lived? Same city I live in now. First alcoholic beverage? Tequila. First place someone took you on a date? Dinner and a movie. First thing you did when you got up today? I haven’t gone to bed, yet, but I always do the same thing: check the time, take my medicine, lay there until I finally drag myself outta bed to use the restroom and make coffee. General Questions and Randomness What is the nearest yellow object to you? There’s some yellow on my shirt. What time was it two hours ago? 11:57PM. What were you doing then? Eating ramen and watching a YouTube video. Did anyone make your day today? Nothing much has happened so far. What is the name of the street you live on? Uh, yeah like I’m going to share that. I share a lot, but I have my limits.  Can you do a backflip? No. Are you listening to anything right now? An ASMR video. When was the last time you were in a car? This past Thursday. Are you an optimist or a pessimist? How much of a difference is there between pessimism and realism, really? <<<  Have you ever fallen up the stairs? No. What do you do when you can’t fall asleep? I’ve gone through this countless times, but here we go again: So, every night I scroll through Tumblr, do surveys, watch YouTube and listen to ASMR, and watch TV. I usually scroll through Pinterest at some point as well. Sometimes I color or read. Has anyone ever tried to tell you you were adopted? No. What’s the biggest lie you’ve told someone? I don’t know. Have you ever been hit on by someoene of the same sex? I had a friend who did that sometimes when she was drunk. How many doors are in the room you’re in? One. Have you ever been engaged and broke it off? No.  Are you wearing anything red? There’s some red on my shirt. My hair is also red if that counts, ha. Have you ever found pictures on your camera you don’t remember taking? Yeah. Has anyone ever drawn a picture of you? Yes. Are you wearing any jewelry at the moment? Nope. Have you ever dated a redhead? No. What are your thoughts on facial hair on guys? I like some scruff. Did you go anywhere today? It’s 2 in the morning, so no, but I don’t have any plans to go anywhere later on either.  Look to your right, what do you see? I first noticed the curtains that are in place of the sliding doors I used to have for my closet.  Where is your favorite place to go when you want to be alone? My bed. I’ll likely throw in some headphones and listen to ASMR, zone out to something on TV, or read. How many Joshua’s do you know? I don’t know any. Do you have any nieces or nephews? No. Do any of your friends have children? Facebook “friends.” Were you in a relationship a month ago? No. How about six months ago? No. Do you expect to be in a relationship a month from now? Nope. I know I won’t be. Is there anything you’re craving right now? It’s been a couple days since I’ve had wings :O haha. Who would you most like to see right now? No one. Everyone stay home!  If you randomly received $50 today, what would you do with it? Save it. Let’s Finish It With Some Lasts How old is the last girl you spoke to? 53. How did you meet the last guy you spoke to? He’s my brother. I met him the day he was born. How long have you known the last person to leave you a comment? Facebook: It was my aunt, whom I’ve known my whole life. On here: It was Lane. He and I have been mutual followers and gotten to know each other through surveys the past few years. We’ve talked a few times as well. What caused the last argument you had? Meh. What was the last movie you watched? A Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood. Where were you the last time you kissed someone? I don’t remember. It was so long ago. Can you remember the last item your purchased? Food. What was the last thing you had to eat? Ramen. Where was your last paycheck from? SSI. What was the last school you received a degree from? A UC in my state. What did the last key you used go to? My house.  When was the last time you cut your hair? Back in early February.  Who got married at the last wedding you attended? Friends of a friend.  What is your last name? Nope.

[thewritewolf]

Inseparable Chapter 14: Sick Day

With Marinette sick at home, it's up to Adrien to make sure his friend is doing okay.

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@ladynoirjuly2019

Enjoy!

Read on Ao3

Adrien grabbed his bag on his way out, sparing only a yearning glance at Marinette’s empty spot. Apparently she’d gotten sick with something and had to stay home, which would be bad enough on a normal day. What sucks even more is that today Ms. Bustier gave them free time to work on their project. With Nino and Alya pairing off to do research in the library, Adrien was left alone again, naturally.

As he stepped out of the classroom, Nino collided with him and wrapped an arm around Adrien’s shoulder. “Hey, dude! So I’ve got some good news…”

Adrien grinned, his friend’s enthusiasm proving contagious. “Yeah? Lay it on me.”

“I know you were super bummed Marinette didn’t show today, but my girl Alya was just telling me that you could head over there to visit, no problems! It wasn’t anything serious and the worst is gone, so you’re in the clear.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want to bother her. She probably wants some time to herself.” He fiddled with his ring, uncertain as they walked through the school’s doors. “Right?”

Instead of an answer, Nino laughed knowingly and patted his back. He sighed when Adrien kept staring blankly at him.

“Listen, dude. Just trust me on this, okay? Marinette will be thrilled that you visited. If you can get some work done while you’re at it, double win, right?”

“Well… If you’re sure she won’t mind…”

Nino lightly punched his shoulder. “That’s the spirit, dude!” He backed away from Adrien, finger gunning all the while. “Good luck, man. I wanna hear all about it later.”

Adrien gave an awkward smile and waved, not sure about what Nino expected to happen. He reached the bottom of the stairs and stood in front of the Gorilla, who was holding open the door to the car.

“My schedule is clear for today, so… I was thinking of visiting a friend? If that’s alright?” He gripped the strap of his bag nervously. Knowing his bodyguard would have to report this to his father he added an excuse that Gabriel would approve of, “We have a project that we need to work on.”

The Gorilla grunted.

“Oh, that won’t be necessary. She just lives over there.” He pointed across the street to the bakery. “I can call when I’m done.”

The Gorilla turned to look at the bakery for a few long moments before nodding and grunting again.

“Thank you! You won’t regret this!” Adrien dashed across the street and ducked into the bakery before the Gorilla changed his mind. Immediately he was immersed in the delicious smell of fresh bread and pastries.

“Oh, hello dear!” Sabine smiled at him as he approached the counter. “Alya mentioned you’d be stopping over. Study partners, hm? I’m sure you two get to spend a lot of time together. Do you remember where her room is?” He nodded as the bell over the door ran behind him. “Good, just make sure you knock first.”

As she greeted her newest customers, Adrien slipped into the back and headed up the stairs.

----------------------------

Marinette was feeling better - admittedly not at her best, but certainly better. In all honesty, she had gone to school in worse shape before, but if she thought this was just a mundane illness then she wouldn’t have stayed home. But waking up to stomach cramps right after something as weird as a power swap with her partner? That left a lot of unanswered questions, questions she had hoped to get answers to today.

And she would have gotten those answers if she hadn’t somehow forgotten that her parents could be overbearing even at the best of times. While them rushing up to make sure she was alright every time they got a break in the bakery was endearing, it made transforming and finding Master Fu impossible. Instead, she just had to while away the day doing some work on different projects she had laying around. At least the day hadn’t been wasted and she could relax a little as she ignored the fading stomach pain.

...Or at least she could until Alya texted her, asking questions about designs. Some prodding later and Marinette discovered that Ms Bustier had given them hours of extra time to work on their projects. Time that she could have spent with Adrien. Time that he ended up spending working alone.

She vented about it to Alya, who started asking her wildly irrelevant questions like, ‘are you contagious’ or ‘are you feeling better.’ The conversation ended with a cryptic, ‘You’re welcome.’ After that, Alya stubbornly refused to respond - Marinette was sure she was probably canoodling with Nino somewhere.

Marinette had to adjust her assumptions when she heard a knock at the trapdoor leading into her bedroom. Maybe her best friend had decided to pay her a visit after all. It was only after she shouted for the person to come in did she remember that Alya almost never knocked.

Adrien rose into her room, his eyes glancing around the handful of posters on the walls. She’d taken many of them down already, but even so she winced a little. Not that he didn’t already know about them, but it still felt private. Those thoughts were quieted when his eyes landed on her and he smiled, bright as the sun. Despite her shock and lingering worry, she found herself smiling dumbly back.

“Hey, boss,” he said with a wink that caused her heart to flutter. “You look like you’re doing better. Well, not that I saw you being sick or anything, but you don’t look sick. Not that I’m calling you a liar! But, uh, you look… uh, nice,” he finished lamely, rubbing the back of his neck.

She looked down at her old pajamas and big T-shirt, felt her hair still up in a messy bun. It didn’t feel like she looked nice. “Th-thanks? So, um… did you want to work on the project or something?”

“Oh, that reminds me!” The lingering awkwardness vanished as he became consumed with excitement. He took a seat on the chaise next to her and pulled his tablet out from his backpack. “Look what I found today!”

She gingerly took the tablet that he shoved toward her and skimmed what was on the screen. It was a scanned newspaper article from about ten years ago. Her eyes widened as she realized it was about a pair of vigilantes in Paris that ran across rooftops and seemed to have superhuman abilities. As she read on, she was a little disappointed that they were apparently more known for just… running around and having fun rather than fighting crime. No wonder she was only hearing about them now - they didn’t do anything!

“Do you not like it?” She looked up to see Adrien looking like a kicked puppy. She rushed to console him.

“No, no, it’s fine, really! I’m just disappointed they weren’t more, well… heroic. That’s all.”

He nodded along. “Yeah, I get that. It’s the most concrete proof of French superheroes, though. And in Paris, no less!”

“Do you want to see if you can find out more about them? I have a few leads I wanted to follow on some people from history that I can look up.”

“Sure!”

He looked down at his tablet, eager to get to work. Marinette allowed herself a few moments to watch him and enjoy the situation before reluctantly turning her attention to the project.

-------------------------

Adrien looked up when he heard Marinette hit her head softly against her table. “Um… are you okay, boss…?”

“None of them!”

“Huh?”

“I had five leads and I can’t say with any certainty that any of them could have been superheroes. The hero part, sure. But I can’t prove they have super powers. The closest I can get is that Joan of Arc is similar to Ladybug, but even that is more of a gut feeling than anything else.”

“Oh.” He frowned. “Well, I’m kinda the same boat too since I haven’t found anything else about this mysterious duo.” Shaking his head, he added, “Not even a picture. Apparently there had been a good one, but some private collector bought it or something.”

Marinette reached past the platter of goodies her parents had brought them half an hour ago, and grabbed her glass of water. “Do you think we’ll be able to do this project?”

“Of course!” He gave her his best winning smile as she raised the glass to her lips. “I know it looks bad, but I believe in you, Marinette. You’re awesome!”

The praise didn’t have the effect he was aiming for since, in her surprise, she spat out the water and ended up with a soaked shirt.

“Gah!” She stared down at herself in a panic before wrapped her arms around her. “Uh, Adrien, could you go downstairs for a minute while I change?”

There was such misery in her voice that his surprise was quickly swapped out for sympathy and understanding.

“Sure. I’ll just… be downstairs then.”

With an iron will, he avoided looking at her soiled shirt as he left and closed the trapdoor beside him. He took a seat on the stairs and pulled out his phone to pass the time. Nino had sent him some texts over the past couple hours that he’d been ignoring in favor of studying. He didn’t feel very motivated to answer him since they were just questions clearly authored by Alya, snooping into what Marinette and him were doing. He’d be glad to tell him if anything besides working had happened, but…

He heard Marinette’s voice from above him. “Okay, you can come back in now!” The trapdoor opened and Adrien started walking through as Marinette continued. “So we aren’t having much luck with our project so I thought we could maybe do some movies. How does that sound?”

“That sounds grea-” Adrien trailed off when he saw what she had changed into, much to Marinette’s confusion. After all, it was only a too-large Jagged Stone t-shirt.

A limited edition shirt that Adrien had gotten months early.

For Ladybug.

[ldybluerse]

My Heart and Head Hurt.

So Very, Very Much

I am Asexual. I like cuddling, kissing, loving touches, I even love to make inappropriate sex jokes. Okay, I can make some pretty lewd sex jokes but that’s what happens when like 90% of your friends for the past ten years identify as pansexual. I just don’t feel sexual attraction and I am mostly repulsed by sex (ehhh it’s too much to explain).

At the first of the year, I moved to Texas from Michigan. Leaving behind all my friends, which with the internet isn’t terrible... but also my friends are shit at peopling on the Internet. Not angry or blame, they all have depression and anxiety. I get it. Just saying it’s hard to pretty much completely lose that connection with my friends. My friends are also the type where we would all pile into my bed and watch videos while cuddling with each other and my dogs. They spent so much time caring for me after my surgeries.

Being handicapped, and still learning how to live with it (it’s a relatively recent thing and takes relearning how to live life in a way that works for your limitations) I live with my parents. They are great but... they have their own mental health issues that really fucked me up as I grew up. It means that I don’t feel like I can open up or talk to them about anything because of what happened back then. I love them and I know they would do anything for me, but it’s just this thing I have. Heck, I have trouble opening up to my therapist for a long time. My therapist, who I also had to leave in Michigan. And Texas Medicaid? Kind of non-existent. Plus, I’m too old for my parents to be taking care of me, you know western standards and all, so I can’t have insurance through them.

Basically, I ran out of some of my medicine months ago, which means I live in near constant pain too. I can’t go see a therapist, because I can’t afford it. I haven’t run out of my depression medication yet, so there is that.

Since my accident (I will do another post on that later, because that will take a while), I haven’t been able to work. The accident was in December 2011, since 2013, I have had ten surgeries. I started back to school because it doesn’t seem like I’ll ever be up for any type of manual labor. But it also means I feel useless because physically I’m limited and mentally I am so fucked up I can’t do what I can handle doing. I graduated with my Bachelor (really proud of) but Texas has some different requirements that will add a lot of time towards getting my Masters, because Michigan didn’t have those requirements. This means I am going to enroll in an accredited online program, hopefully. Have to get accepted, fingers crossed.

To summarize, for ten months I have been isolated in a different state, dealing with body trying to adjust to different weather and medicine changes. Self isolation isn’t helping but the other problem is when I do reach out, there isn’t someone there...

Background info done, now to what’s troubling me:

My best friend and girlfriend is also Asexual. We’ve been together for almost eight years, but it’s always been long distance (we’re Ace, it doesn’t bug us too much) and I have gone to visit her. We started “talking” through Role Play and until recently, whenever there was lulls in life when a lot wasn’t happening, we could lean back on the Role Play to stay connected. There wasn’t a day when we didn’t talk to each other, even during the hospital visits we both went through, we stayed connected in some small way. And we talked about everything and anything. Our fandoms didn’t always match up, but it was fun listening and learning... I thought...

She was dealing with a lot of stuff, and for a few years was out of work, probably why she had so much time and energy for me. It was really bad for her for a while, where she even verbally attacked me on a few occasions. I know it wasn’t her but her mental illness, so I forgive her for it. But it was bad.

She was raised super Christian (DONT celebrate Halloween because it’s evil type Christian), and she has always been Christian even if she yelled at God a lot in her low days. Yeah, the good Christian girl is dating the Goth Pagan Celtic Witch... whatever you will call me. I’ve been Pagan for about 2/3rds of my life by now, so it’s not like she didn’t know she I was one. She’s never tried to shame or convert me.

My Bachelor is in Religious Studies, I know how good a religion can be for someone’s mental health if they are religious. I would talk to her about rekindling her faith. Finding a church she could at least go sit and listen to, so she could reconnect. She did! And it’s been amazing for her mental health. She has held a steady job for a while, actually is the poster child for the program that helped her move foreword and get her life back in order. I am so very proud of her and I do love her so much.

I just think... she’s outgrown me. The only fandom she talks about anymore is... Christianity. She doesn’t talk about LoZ anymore. She doesn’t talk about Tolkien. She doesn’t watch anime or cartoons anymore. She has no interest in Role Playing, as I said a big part of staying connected.

She talks about work, her cats, crocheting, and her religion. The thing is, I can’t fault her for any of it if it’s what’s best for her. She deserves happiness and stability. But...even when I’m back in school and when I get a job I don’t think I could leave the world of fantasy and fiction behind.

I grew up going to Ren Faires, my dad wearing tights. My first boyfriend I met at Ren Faire, while he was in tights. Labryinth and The Last Unicorn are still my favorite movies of all time! I collect Dragons of all sorts. I’ve watched the whole series of Fraggle Rock a few times, because it’s just wholesome and sweet.

My parents are Trekkies, my mom has had some of her fanfiction a published in old Starlog Zines. We watch fantasy, fiction, actions, cartoons... my mom has always loved the world of books, especially fantasy. She collects unicorns, so many unicorns. When I got into Anime, so did my mom. Kenshin is still her favorite, although to be fair she loved Ultron and Speed Racer when they first came to the states (she says Speed Racer was her first ever crush).

My brothers love the same thing, my oldest brother still fans for Jason David Frank. My other brother, well, he named his cat Pandea after WoW, we have his LotR sword collection, all his movie memorabilia...

We’re nerds and dorks and not afraid to be so.

Since the move the only thing making me happy has been my animals (Gods and Goddesses the fluffy bastards are clingers and just want to love you and be loved which is something I need) and fantasy. I’ve watched several animes I just want to gush about, but if you don’t have someone who is watching it too... you don’t want to ruin it. I want to just talk someone’s ear off about Steven Universe or Miraculous the Tales of Ladybug and Chat Noir. Hell, even Ducktales and Tangled. Do you know how AMAZING they have made Ducktales?! I watched the original series when I was younger but...! And all the inside jokes!!!!

The books! I probably read about thirty or forty in one month when I went on a book binge. They were all trashy romance novels, and admittedly the sex scenes were... meh... I’m Asexual, what do you expect?! Okay... some Aces like sex and stuff. It’s not that important to me. What is, is the connection two people have to each other. The love. And trashy romance novels aren’t the best at giving that... but it’s something.

Oh and the Webcomics. I have always, always loved Webcomics. I used to have the folders on my old computer organized down to the day of the week the comics updated because I so many, that I had to organize them just to get the right updates! Right now Lore Olympics. OMG Lore Olympics. Be still my heart! I am reading several on WEBTOON. I have a few I follow through DeviantArt; Erma is so frikken cute! Daughter of the Lilies, ahhhhhh so amazing and the artwork!!! Pincushion! Constructs will always have a place in my heart!

I just got into the Good Omens fandom, because I’m a Whovian and Tennant is defiantly one of my most favorite of Doctors. He was just so beautiful in it. And when I took my Shakespeare course my teacher had us watch Hamelt and ohhhhh Tennant. Ohhhh you really can’t tell if Hamlet has gone crazy or it’s an act (which he claims it is!!). Sir Patrick Stewart was also just... oh!!! I entered Good Omens because my Instagram was all Ineffable Husbands (I think because of my Doctor Who love). Finally, finally i watched it.

That was like three weeks ago I got into Good Omens and I still am completely in love. The tenderness, the loving looks. I have to read the book! And the script book! (Depression, yay!). I need to listen to the radio adaptation and revisit Queen (I was raised on rock’n’roll. And I mean, David Bowie has probably been the only Rock Star I ever went heart-eyes for... also kinda sad he wasn’t mentioned in Good Omens because he did work with Queen and let’s face it, Bowie was so gender-nonconforming!). I just want to ramble and babble on and on about the series with someone. About all the hidden bits and pieces and theories and things in my head!!!

But... I don’t have anyone. My girlfriend sort of shuts down when I talk about any of the fandoms I like. She will just skip those parts of the conversation and comment on the animal videos I send her or something else. She will talk about work or God. Again, I’m know Religion and people. If there is something I know best is you can’t dictate what someone else’s beliefs are. So while I know the Bible and Christian theory, when she talks about it and tells me stories I can only “nod” and “smile” because if a persons religion isn’t harming themselves or others, and it’s helping them, I don’t think it would be right to argue theory and philosophy with them over what is mostly fairytale stories in a book. I’m not saying their isn’t a Christian God, or many Gods, or things in the Bible didn’t happen, but not all of it is factual nor was it ever meant to be seen as strictly factual. I try to show I am at least paying attention to what she says.

At the same time, with the state I have been in, I probably haven’t given her what she needs when she is telling me about stuff.

Fantasy and fiction has been the only thing keeping me afloat. Religion and work has been helping her. I just can’t see a world without the magic of make-believe but that’s not where she is anymore.

So... I’ve been thinking for a bit now maybe we’re no longer what we need for each other in our lives. Not that we don’t love each other, and not that we can’t still be friends... but maybe it’s time we adventure out? We were what we needed from each other for years... maybe we just aren’t that anymore.

[brynandchristopher]

Island hopping round 2!

Hello! 

It’s been 2 weeks since we last updated and a lot has happened. Last we updated we had just finished our 2nd Great Walk and were heading down the southwest coast to Wellington on the North Island. 

When we arrived in Wellington we were a bit surprised to find how developed and industrial it seemed. There were some low-key skyscrapers, a huge port harbor, and quite a bit of hustle and bustle. Outside of Auckland, New Zealand is very sleepy and quaint so it was a just a bit shocking to be back in a real city. Cities can be cool though! We walked along the seaside wharf and admired the harbor as well as visited the Te Papa Tongarewa Museum. The museum is argued to be the coolest in all of NZ, and being the only museum we’ve been to, we will have to agree. It was indeed super cool and we were enthralled to explore the nature exhibit that explained and demonstrated the unique wildlife and geophysical phenomena present along these volcanic islands isolated out in the ocean. We drove down to the southern most point of the north island to stay the night before our ferry ride the next day. Where we stayed happened to be a marine reserve that boasted an incredible amount of biodiversity. It also advertised marked snorkeling trails in the water - I have a snorkeling set with me from our time in Asia so the next morning before our ferry I decided to brave the water and dive in. I saw a couple of girls the day before snorkeling the route wearing wetsuits but I figured I would be fine without one. The water here is pretty cold but we take a quick dip most days. I was very wrong - it is very difficult to swim long distances in really cold water while breathing through a tube. Unfortunately I had to get out of the water real quick and all I really saw was some cool seaweed but, it was pretty funny for Bryn to watch me flounder.

Later that afternoon we were off to take our ferry to the south island. We got there early and after driving our car up into the giant Bluebridge Ferry we got a lovely window seat and began the 3.5 hour trip across the Cook Strait. The last hour of the trip was incredible. We climbed up to the top of the ferry to watch as our hulking hull glided through steep glacially carved fjords. We disembarked and drove an hour or so to a campground out in the woods where we regrouped and spent the night. 

The next day we drove down the coast and made our way to a town called Nelson. Our plan was to get to Nelson, pick up some more butane gas canisters for our stove and keep driving. We ended up staying for 2.5 days. Nelson was a really hip, fun town with lots of cool organic food shops, local artisan stores, 3 farmers market every week and a freedom-campers service hub with free hot showers! The service hub had just opened up and a a news reporter was taking videos and asked to interview us. We ended up on national news here in New Zealand! If only for a few seconds. (https://www.tvnz.co.nz/one-news/new-zealand/nelson-charity-appalled-efforts-host-freedom-campers-instead-homeless) We did some shopping and our first night there we went to a movie at the local theatre, which also happened to be an Italian restaurant but that’s beside the point. We saw 1917 and it was thrilling. Going out to the movies is something we both enjoy a lot and reminds us of home so we had a great time, especially since we snuck in our own popcorn and candy to save some money. :) The next day we went to the local beach called Tahunanui and spent the day walking around and basking in the sun. We have a data plan for our phone(s) but it is somewhat limited so we can’t download a whole lot of stuff - however our provider has these free wifi-hubs where we can get some extra data and download movies to watch in the van. On the hub was a poster for a music festival that night in Tahunanui so instead of leaving we decided to stay another night and check it out. We made our dinner on the beach and found the very small outdoor stage. It was definitely a local family affair with lots of kids running around, local musicians and food vendors, and silly games like limbo and egg tosses between each act. The music was nothing to write home about but all in all It was really fun and we got some boysenberry ice cream.

We were going to try and do a short backpacking trip before our next Great Walk but the weather was amazing and we were feeling the beach, so we decided instead to head up and around the northeastern coast called Golden Bay and check out the highly acclaimed beaches. As we drove up the coast we stopped at the Te Waikoropupu Springs, the largest freshwater spring in the southern hemisphere! We walked 20 or so minutes out to a walkway over the springs where we were able to look down into the clearest water I have ever seen. It has an underwater visibility of nearly 200 feet! It is a sacred place to the local Maori tribe so we were unable to swim but it was still really amazing! And we found a place to swim a ways downriver that was allowed so it all worked out :) We spent one night part way up the bay and chilled on a small beach adjacent to a lot of rare and endangered bird species. We camped near to there and the next day drove all the way up to the northern tip of the south island. There is a famous beach there that we wanted to check out so we got up early and walked the mile or so out to the beach. Wharariki beach was definitely the coolest beach I have ever been to. We had to cross an expanse of massive sand dunes just to get out to the main beach which was probably around 2 miles end to end with huge hills, tons of caves, tidal pools littered with baby seals, and natural archways out in the water and up on the beach. We spent a while just chilling reading our books but the walked the length of the beach gawking at the seal pups and spelunking into the dark beach caves. There was a one that seemed particularly smelly and I had quite a fright as a nearly walked into a sleeping seal hiding in the shadows. We spent 8 or so hours out there and treated ourselves to an ice cream at the very remote and tiny cafe near the parking lot. We drove back down the bay and stayed in the woods outside the town of Motueka.

The next day we drove into Motueka and did some much needed laundry and shopped for our upcoming Great Walk. We mooched some wifi from the KFC parking lot and talked to our parents and then spent the night at the beach in Motueka. We have developed a bit of a tradition of what we eat before and after our Great Walks, and we made rice and dahl that night and went to bed early to rest up. We woke up early and drove to the town of Marahau where we dropped off our car and took a water taxi to the top of Abel Tasman National Park to begin our 3rd Great Walk - The Abel Tasman Coastal Track. 

We expected our water taxi to just be a a quick transport up the coast but we were happily surprised to find out it was bit more a tour. We were blessed by the tides and had the pleasure of exploring tidal lagoons and seeing some cool wildlife and beaches while our captain told us about the history of the park. We got dropped off in Totaranui where we started the trek. We planned the trip a bit differently that most people do the track and went north on an inland track up Gibbs Hill and then back towards the coast up and around to Mutton Cove. It was a very steep hill and we were feeling the burn after ~9 miles. This first day was by far the hardest elevation wise. We had a lovely campsite right on the beach and were nearly alone which was awesome. We had a dinner of instant rice and quinoa and then instant pasta which we used to much water to make - it was my first time having alfredo soup and it wasn’t all that bad! 

The next day we got up early and headed down the coast winding up and down small hills through the rainforest that hugs the beaches. We made it back to Totaranui and after a quick lunch of trail mix and granola bars, kept heading down the beach to our campsite at Waiharekeke beach. It was a short day of ~6 miles and so we got there in the early afternoon. This was by design so we could avail ourselves to the famous golden sand beaches of the park and bask in the hot sun. We read our books alone on the nearly mile long beach for hours, swimming in the crystal clear turquoise water frequently to cool down. Abel Tasman National Park is known for it color contrasts. The water has vibrant shades of blue, turquoise, and teal and all of the beaches are a rich golden color from the granite cliff-sides and every beach butts right up to the rainforest. We were loving our life in paradise. We had some couscous and lentils and played cards before heading to bed as the sound of the waves crashing against the cliffs lulled us to sleep. 

The next day we slept in and there was a bit of an unexpected morning drizzle so we snuggled up in the tent and let it pass. We were in no rush this morning because shortly after our camp was the Awaroa Inlet, which had to be crossed 2 hours before or after low tide. Low-tide being 4:09 in the afternoon we had to wait quite a while to start the bulk of our walk. We took off our boots and rolled up our shorts and crossed through the knee/thigh deep tidal streams that were running out - there was a nice little station to rinse off feet and put our boots back on before heading out to hike 8 more miles at 3:30 in the afternoon. We trudged on quickly up and down some pretty big hills with some incredible views of the sea. We were a bit weary hiking later in the day but we listened to an audiobook as we walked and still had a nice time. We made it to Bark Bay at 7:30 and set up camp and jumped in the ocean to clean ourselves off. By the time we were cooking our dinner everyone else had gone to bed. We had some more rice and quinoa, and pasta mixed with instant peas, not so soupy this time. :) 

The next day we were quite tired. We only had around 7 miles to got but it seemed to drag on and both of us were getting a bit sore. We considered cutting the trip a night short and hiking out the final 6 miles that day but that would’ve sucked and I am very glad we didn’t. Around halfway we did a little side trip to Cleopatra’s Pool, a series of natural pools and waterfalls - it reminded us a bit of the rock slides along the Kancamagus Highway in New Hampshire. We had planned to swim but were dissuaded by the 50 or so day trippers already at the pool. Really cool natural places lose a bit of their luster when you have to fight for space in them. We shared a granola bar as we admired the falls and headed back to the track. After some moaning and groaning we finally reached the cutoff to our campsite and descended down a precipitous few hundred feet to Observation Beach where we spent our final night. This was our favorite campsite of the trip, it was a cool little cove looking out at Adele Island with a family of Oyster Catcher birds and chicks right nearby. There were a couple of families at the beach who lived nearby to the park and had taken their boats in. We were very envious of their variable array of potato chips and cookies, coolers full of wine and beer, and fresh fruits. We chatted them up a bit and got a little bit of trail magic - one of them ended up offering us a bottle of wine and a couple beers as the night went on and it was one of their kids birthdays and we got a slice of birthday cake. It was a perfect night to cap off our adventure and were super appreciative of the luxuries on the trail. 

We woke up for sunrise on our final day and were treated to a beaut. We made our fourth and final breakfast of oatmeal mixed with dried apricots and trail mix, had our tea and set off before 8 o’clock. This was the easiest section of the entire trail and we did the ~6 miles in just over 2 hours, hustling ready to be done. We made it back to Sweetie and were very glad to see her. We had stashed some reward treats in the van and dug-in. We drove back to Motueka for the weekend farmers market and restocked on vegetables and at the recommendation of our booze/cake friends, got a loaf of sourdough bread from Rodrigo’s bread stand. We drove back down the coast and back to Nelson for the free hot shower to scrub the sweat and dirt off of ourselves. After our shower we got the other half of our Great Walk food tradition, post-walk pizza. We got a small veggie and a small cheese and were a bit bloated after eating them both in about 5 minutes flat. We went to the grocery store for some needed staple items and drove a few hours south down the coast to Westport where we stayed the night on the beach. It’s always a pleasure to sleep in our comfy van bed after the sleeping mats for days on end and we slept in. We spent the morning today unpacking our bags and organizing the van, as well as doing some much needed cleaning of our kitchen. We are hanging out in the Westport library and are going to head farther south here in a little while. Not really sure what we are going to do the next few days but totally cool with that, we will figure it out as we go.

Hoping you are all enjoying yourselves. We love and miss you all. <3

Our very best,

Christopher and Bryn

[robronsecretsanta]

a madness to the method

(AO3)

Rating: E

For @notforonesecond . Merry Christmas! From your Secret Santa. May this bring you as much joy as your presence on here brings me.

:::::

He stands there, script page in hand and a growing pit in his stomach, as Robert Sugden walks up to him with a grin.

“What you waiting for? Get your kit off.”

:::::

It’s his third big role, but the first one that actually means something, Aaron having acted in a couple of big-budget blockbuster films to date; the last two even giving him some lines and some stunts, the latter of which he’d done himself. But so far most of his career has involved plenty of little-known stage work and a few well-received indies, as well as a particularly popular episode of Black Mirror.

He’s fairly certain that’s what landed him this script, his wide body of emotionally driven work. Not every day a Frank Clayton production sends a part your way. Not every day Harriet Finch is attached to direct. (Aaron’s pretty sure he’s one of the few people who’s seen the entirety of her oeuvre, even purchased some of the early stuff on DVD, forcing his best mate Adam to sit through whole movie marathons of her work, dissecting every shot inch by inch.)

The film’s a period piece about two young men who fall in love as a war looms over them; two lovers star-crossed in one of the worst ways possible. Both stuck going to war terrified the other won’t come home. Only they do, if not a little emotionally scarred and a little physically injured. The reunion is emotionally sweet and full of hope — exactly the kind of story Aaron wishes he could have grown up with. Because sometimes a happy ending really makes a difference. He’d almost learned that hard way.  

“You sure you want to do this?” His mother asks, curled up on his sofa in his flat in North London and peaking up at him with big brown eyes through dark, bit-too-long bangs. “People might start asking whether you’re gay, love.”

Aaron understands her concerns and where she’s coming from. Doesn’t stop him from shrugging them off and holding firm to the feeling in his gut.

“Let them,” he says, lips downturned at the corners as he paces across the living room determinedly. “Not got anything to hide, have I?”

Despite all his bravado, there’s a flicker of doubt. If this somewhat calculated risk doesn’t pan out, it could be the end of the upward trajectory of his acting career. For all it’s progress on the LGBTQIA-depiction front, Hollywood itself isn’t as accepting of openly queer actors. And while Aaron won’t miss the perks of rising fame at all, he will miss getting to work on more interesting projects or movies, like this one.

Still, Aaron Dingle has never been a liar, and he’s not going to start now. Especially when it comes to his sexuality.

:::::

His agent, a no-nonsense woman named Priya, approves of his decision immediately. She knows he’s gay, has known from the start. But it’s never affected her decision to take him on as a client. (It’s one of the reasons Aaron’s stuck with her so long; tying his rising star to her job.)

“You’ve certainly got the talent and the range to pull this off,” she states and it feels less like a dream and more like reality. “With Finch directing it, this could become potential Oscar material. This part’ll definitely get you noticed.”

Aaron smiles and nods along, because that is nice he supposes. He’s just glad the production company don’t want yet another audition, or even a chemistry read with his yet-to-be-announced co-star. He’s sick of them at this point.

“Who’s the other lead?” He asks, fingers picking at each other, left knee bouncing in the chair. He’s about ready to leave Priya’s office. But the second he hears her answer, he’s stuck bolted to his seat. His mind reeling with the news of it.

Robert Sugden.

:::::

To say he’s heard of Robert Sugden is the understatement of the century. If anything, he’s the one responsible for Aaron’s sexual awakening.

Like most teenage boys his age, he’d been obsessed with the Transformers movies. Only unlike his best mate Adam, he didn’t fall asleep and wake up hard to thoughts of the hot female lead. No, despite his best attempts at the time, his mind always drifted to the slightly older but also teenaged Robert Sugden; the son of a famous actor who’d also made it big quite young, starring in at least two popular TV series. (In hindsight, Aaron’s desire to purchase and put up a shirtless poster of Robert on his bedroom wall should have been a big hint as to his nascent gayness. But like all sexually confused teenagers he’d managed to convince himself he was more into the trucks instead; that he wanted to be Robert Sugden, not be with him.)

He’d spent a full summer when he was 15 watching his way through Robert’s early work, bingeing that one popular science fiction series where he and a group of teens investigated strange paranormal phenomena at their English boarding school. A part of him had come alive when a body-swap episode had caused Robert’s character’s body to be a possessed by a female friend’s, resulting in him kissing and making out with her boyfriend who’d been played by Pete Barton. (Aaron had spent the ensuing weeks reading and rewatching everything to with those few minutes of airtime, refusing to let anyone play over his recording. He’d worn out the tape till it could play no longer.)  

The first time he’d come was a few weeks later, Robert’s name on his lips as he’d pictured being kissed by him, his hand moving up and down the length of his naked shaft faster and faster; rock hard and aching at just the thought of him.

Robert. Fucking. Sugden.

What are the odds?

He doesn’t know whether to quit the project or just die of mortification. How is he supposed to act against someone he’s had those kinds of thoughts about? (He’s never had limits for who you should love and be with. After all, that would be a tad hypocritical of him. But some lines shouldn’t be crossed, no matter the project, and he’s fairly convinced this is one of them.)

He mentions this to Adam when he comes over to play FIFA on the PS4 later, only his best mate doesn’t quite seem to get it. Though to be fair, he’s never really had to deal with this, has he?

“So what? You used to jerk off to him. Big deal!” Adam shrugs, cycling through the options and picking his players. “If I said I’d avoid every female celeb I did that with, I wouldn’t be able to work with any of them.”

Aaron makes a face, even if he does concede that Adam has a point — not that he’s out there having to act against… (He’s actually not sure who this week’s flavour of the month is. Adam’s feelings of attraction waxing and waning like the moon.)

“Though,” Adam says, turning to look at him when he’s satisfied with his choices. “His sister Victoria is pretty fit. Do you think you could get her number?”

Aaron tosses a cushion at his face. Leave it to Adam to miss the point completely.

It bounces off and falls onto Adam’s lap, he picks it up and places it beside him.

When he turns toward Aaron this time, he looks a lot more serious, an earnestness in his gaze that wasn’t there before.

“Listen,” he says, voice soft yet firm. “You’ve wanted to be in one of Finch’s movies ever since I’ve known ya. Don’t back out now just because of Sugden.”

Aaron nods, though he’s still not convinced. Adam must see it because he then adds, “You’ll do fine. You’re an amazing actor. That’s why they wanted you for this part, you know, instead of me.”

Aaron shoots him a look and Adam just shrugs. Turns his attention back to the TV screen as he says, “What? I’m a scene stealer. Everyone knows that.”

That triggers a laugh and when it’s over, Aaron feels a lot lighter. But even as they both accept their team and kit selections and start the game, his mind drifts back to a young, shirtless Robert…

:::::

He keeps the part after all, the announcement making some waves in the press. However, any intrusiveness into his personal life is circumvented by the latest news about Robert. Rumour has it that he’s up for consideration as the new James Bond. Aaron had laughed when he’d first read the news. But laying in bed, later that night, he can’t help but picture Robert in a trademark suit, smirking down the barrel of a gun, the way he’s become known for.

It’s enough to make him shaken and stirred — not that he lifts a finger to relieve himself of the dull, building throb. (If there’s one thing Aaron Dingle’s sure about, it’s that it’s impolite to pleasure oneself to the thoughts of an upcoming co-star. Even if they were the starring role in his teenage fantasies.)

He ends up taking a cold shower instead.

:::::

Meeting Harriet Finch is everything like he’d imagined, and yet nothing like it at all.

Aaron spends all morning practicing what he wants to say to her, pacing back and forth in his newly assigned trailer — which happens to be both bigger and more luxurious than he’d expected. None of the words of praise he’s wanted to lavish her with seeming right for the moment, or even worthy of her, but he keeps practicing all the same.

That’s why he’s thrown when she comes to see him, telling him how much she’d enjoyed his turn in a small play he’d done last summer as a favour to an old friend (and ex-boyfriend), Ed.

She smiles at him with kind, dark eyes and outlines the many ways in which he’d knocked that role out of the park, followed by his performance in those few movies and, of course, Black Mirror.

“I knew you were the right man for the part the moment I saw you,” she says, voice like a warm woollen blanket, the words wrapping him up in a cocoon of comfort. “You’ll make a marvellous ‘Thomas.’ I just know it. I’m glad to have you on this project.”

But just as he’s basking in the glow of her reassurance, she asks the dreaded question.

“Have you met Robert Sugden?”

:::::

If first meetings dictate how the rest of a working relationship might go, Robert and Aaron’s is already off to a really bad start.

He’d shown up to Robert’s trailer and gone in after knocking a few times, only to find him in the throes of being orally pleasured.

Aaron hadn’t recognised the woman, just seen the back of her head, as she’d kneeled in front of Robert and blown him. Robert was sitting on the edge of his trailer’s bed and leaning back, both arms supporting his weight across the still-made comforter. His shirt was unbuttoned and he’d got his leather jacket on, neck exposed as he half lay there jerking and groaning.

He’d seemed to sense Aaron because Robert had looked up at once, locking eyes across the short distance. He’d given him a long hard look, then flashed him a wink and a smile, before closing his eyes and coming into the woman’s mouth not very long after.

Cheeks reddening and more than a little shocked, Aaron had turned and bolted. He’d wanted to spare that poor woman the embarrassment of knowing he’d seen this happening, but more importantly, process it all himself.

Standing in his own trailer he wants to kick himself for being such a goddamn fool. The tabloids had been reporting this side of Robert Sugden for years on end. But Aaron had ignored them because that’s what you were supposed to do. (And maybe, he tries not to acknowledge as his heart continues to pound, because it had ruined his fantasy of Robert and his younger self.)

But for all his talent — and he has plenty of it — Robert Sugden has always been a bit of a playboy; has the ex-wife and half a dozen ex-girlfriends to prove it. The result of this is a respectable body of work, but no one noticing because of all the gossip. (Aaron had once suspected this was Robert trying to undersell himself, maybe a bit nervous of all the extended limelight. He’d grown up Jack Sugden’s son, had had to bear that mantle, while also carving a name for himself, with not much room for error.)

Any sympathy he’d once felt though, has now been stripped away, replaced with cold, hard knowledge. Robert Sugden actually enjoys behaving like this, and Aaron can’t believe he’d liked him.

As he starts pacing, his heart still racing, Aaron gets madder and madder. They’ve both been given a golden opportunity being cast in these roles, and it’s something Robert wants to squander?

He’d wanted to walk away from this project because he’d been worried about his own personal hang-ups. Not wanting any former feelings for Robert to affect his performance. But now all he can think about is Robert’s smile and his wink, as if showing off his sexual prowess to Aaron.

This feels good, and I made that happen. Maybe I can do that for you as well?

Aaron growls, feels like punching something nearby, hating the small part of him that had kind of enjoyed it; that place deep within himself that still tends a tiny flame devoted to Robert Sugden; that place that had enjoyed watching him come.

It’s not your fault, Aaron tells himself, trying to banish the recent memory from his mind — though he’d spent years picturing and imaging exactly that. Him blowing Robert and feeling him coming under him, his palms flat against his thighs. (Sometimes he’d imagine the flip of it too. Him coming apart in Robert’s hands, his mouth smirking as Aaron comes right into it.)

He’s just managed to get rid of it, when he hears a dry chuckle, spins around to find Robert standing in his trailer, blue shirt all buttoned and jeans up and belted, like that midday blowjob hadn’t happened.

He smiles at him, blue-green eyes glittering, “So I take it you’re Aaron Dingle.”

It sends a thrill up his neck, short hairs lightly lifting, at the prospect of Robert Sugden saying his name. But then annoyance sets in as that memory comes back and Aaron grunts his affirmation.

“What do you want?”

Robert doesn’t seem deterred, doesn’t even seem to clock his rudeness. Just smiles at him like he said something funny. “To apologise. That wasn’t how I’d pictured our first meeting.”

“Why? You plan on having your cock in someone else’s mouth?” Aaron fires back, a little shocked that Robert had ever given meeting him any thought.

Robert’s eyes widen at the accusation, but whatever it is that came over him passes because he laughs and clears his throat. “No. Wasn’t planning to, actually. Just wanted to tell you what a big fan I am.”

His eyes flit away, and his smile kind of softens. Robert looks back at Aaron. “And that I’m looking forward to us working together.”

If Aaron hadn’t seen what he’d seen, he’d believe every word of this, Robert coming across well-meaning and earnest. But then he remembers just how good of an actor his co-star-to-be really is and snorts. “Nice try. Hope you’re better on camera.”

Robert winces at that, but his smile remains, even if it’s starting to look a little brittle.

“I’m sorry about what happened, alright?” Robert says, frustration colouring his voice at the edges. Aaron can see that this really is paining him; Robert not that good of an actor. “Let’s start over.”

He takes a step forward and holds out his hand. “Hi. I’m Robert Sugden.”

Aaron ignores it, crosses his arms across his chest.

“I know who you are,” he spits out.

Robert looks confused, studies him further before withdrawing his hand and eventually letting it drop. He puts it in his jacket pocket and renews his smile at Aaron. It’s just as small and soft as earlier.

“I’m trying, you know,” he says and Aaron can feel himself willing to give him that inch, to soften and forgive Robert so they can start over. But then he thinks about how smug and cocky he’d been just before he’d come right in front of him, and a wave of pulsing, hot annoyance shoots right through him.

“Then try harder,” Aaron half-growls, taking a small step further. And then, “And maybe try keepin’ your dick to yourself.”

:::::

Production kicks off without any further hitches, and he quickly gets to know the rest of their cast and crew — even becoming friends with a production assistant named Ellis.

Though most of the time Aaron just stays put in his trailer, constantly rehearsing and working on his character.

Harriet seems happy with his performance so far, giving him any extra takes he wants to do. But Aaron hasn’t been able to get in a groove that makes him truly happy; where he has an understanding of his character inside and out.

From the script, his own chat with Harriet, and the homework he’s done, he knows “Thomas James” to be a straightforward fellow, a little tentative, but earnest with his feelings.

He’s a farmer who owns and works his own farm, before one day he runs into Felix, his new and struggling neighbour. Felix’s family has lost most of their estate; bad debts and investments before the beginnings of the war hit. All they have now, is this one farm to their name, and Felix, a city boy — or rather, man — through and through has no clue how to run it.

Unable to stand it, Thomas steps in to help him, and Felix promises to do his accounts in trade. Thomas agrees, the spark between them growing and burning brighter.

Robert and he have played and shot a handful of those initial scenes, mostly set up for the rest of the story. But as their characters have seemed to find an easy camaraderie, there barely exists one between them.

For his part, Robert hasn’t really paused his efforts to win Aaron over, always making jokes and trying to give him an opening. Internally, Aaron struggles not to let go and give in, not having run into Robert with his cock down someone else’s throat since.

He doesn’t understand how Robert can just switch into his role and then right out of it, a slippery fish if there ever was one. He throws on Felix’s skin like it’s one of those button-up shirts he so favours, constantly remaining in costume longer than needed. (Aaron actually doesn’t mind that because it’s easy on the eyes and for their characters, Robert wearing 1920 period garb like he was born for it.)

Felix is smart and inept, but also charming and funny, a gay man in his shell, with no real interest in marriage. Just a blushing eye turned towards Thomas.

And that’s the part that kind of stings in their scenes, because it’s in those moments that Aaron feels he can really see the Robert he once had a crush on; a hint of him shining through.

It’s in Robert’s small smiles and the soft in his eyes, the blue-green of them a warm summer ocean.

But then Harriet says, “Cut” and it all disappears, Robert’s eyes growing cooler, his body more indifferent; tensed and held in a way he doesn’t when he’s Felix, like he’s holding a deep breath in.

That’s the first thing Aaron notices as they take a break before they shoot their first big scene, a first kiss where both men realise their mutual attraction.

They’re standing in a field, where Felix’s tractor has broken down, and Thomas has ridden up in his horse to help fix it.

As Aaron walks through the wet grass, his period accurate boots and jeans sinking into the mud a little, he gets his first glimpse of Robert.

His shirt sleeves are rolled back and his brow is plastered with sweat. He’s clearly been out in a full afternoon of labour.

They go through the dialogue, Felix directing Thomas to the back of the tractor, some kind of malfunction trapped within it. Thomas gives it a look, and Aaron produces a short grunt of surveyance, really giving it a decent study.

Then exhaling slowly he offers Thomas’ suggestion, that sometimes you just need to push it. He does as he says, and gives the tractor a shove, before letting his knees soften and himself fall forward in the muck.

Above him, he can hear Robert’s laughter bursting forth loud and clear, and he knows instantly it’s not his acting as Felix. He turns to his side and shoots Robert a dirty look, but in his chest his heart skips a beat at it.

Finally springing into action Felix leans forward and offers Thomas a hand, Robert bending and extending his hand out. The laughter still shines in his eyes, even if it’s not coming out his lips, his breath still short and him still panting.

Something surges in Aaron and he feels Thomas’ quiet sense of humour, reaches up and pulls Robert down towards him.

Robert captures all of Felix’ (and probably some of his own) surprise, his own knees bending as he falls atop Aaron; the hard firmness of his limbs utterly unexpected, and yet fitting against him perfectly.

He’s now laying on his back in the mud, feeling the cold soak into his tough warm denim, the flannel of his shirt doing little to protect him. But none of that matters as Robert gazes down at him, both their chests pressed together.

The script says this is where Felix kisses Thomas, too physically close for any more doubted restraint. Only Robert hasn’t moved, just keeps on laying there, mere centimetres away, his eyes trained down on Aaron’s lips, as if frozen by disbelief and nervousness.

Probably just nervous about kissing another man, Aaron thinks, flashing back to Robert kissing Pete Barton, and the way his hands had cupped his face. Probably worried that this time someone might think he’s gay.

Deep inside Aaron, something aches. He lets out a small, frustrated huff, his head relaxing back into the wet dirt, resigning himself to a long wait.

And then it’s like something snaps, because Robert leans forward, lunging for his lips with everything he has; his tongue barely waiting as Aaron’s lips part. (They hadn’t rehearsed this, or even really discussed it. Aaron not wanting to spend more time around Robert than entirely necessary.)

But as he lays here now, Aaron can’t help but give himself over to it, letting Robert’s fingers skim his sides before they bunch up in the warmth of his flannel shirt, his hands finding their way onto Robert’s lower back and his hair. He holds Robert’s head firm as he deepens the kiss. His co-star isn’t the only one who can improvise.

He doesn’t feel the lack of oxygen until the tail end of a groan, too deep into it to know if it’s from him or Robert.

When they pull apart both of them are panting. Robert’s gaze comes back up and they lock eyes again, a lock of his blonde hair dropping onto Aaron’s forehead, as his breath continues to tickle his lips; both wet and a little blitzed.

Deep in the depths of Robert’s green and blues, Aaron sees a spark of searching nervousness and hesitation. He brushes that bit of hair back almost without thinking; an unconscious act of soothing.

He can hear Robert’s breath hitch at the feel of his thumb pad on his skin, sees the way his eyes drop back down to Aaron’s lips. No longer nervous, and still barely thinking, Aaron leans up and presses another kiss to his lips, this time a more sweet and chaste one.

When he pulls back, Robert still has his eyes closed, almost cute in his stunned still surprise. Aaron finds himself smiling and recording this picture mentally; filled with the desire to go back in time and tell himself, “We kissed Robert Sugden!”

Robert opens his eyes and a second later Harriet yells, “Cut!” Aaron can’t help but feel interrupted.

What did you want to say? He wants to ask, as they both get to their feet. Aaron barely makes an attempt to clean himself off. He knows he needs a good shower.

Next to him, Robert seems to be avoiding his eyes, focusing a little too hard on dusting his pants off. Aaron tries not to spend too much time admiring his bum in the process.

They’re walking off set, when Robert makes the joke, voice flippant and tone just insulting.

“Feel like hitting a strip club, eh?” He says with what is meant to be a playful nudge. “Need to see some naked tits, pronto.”

It shouldn’t hurt as much as it does, this being a movie and all, but it still stings hard and deep all the same.

Aaron feels hot anger come over him without much warning, and he explodes back at Robert in a rage.

“All of this is just one big joke to ya, isn’t it?” He practically spits out the words in a low, angry growl as he shoves Robert backwards into a nearby trailer.

He doesn’t care if anyone’s nearby, or if they even see him. All he can see and hear is Robert.

“These are people’s lives,” he continues, the line of his right forearm held against Robert’s chest, constricting the way he breathes slightly. “Do you even get that?”

“It’s just a joke,” Robert answers, sounding both defensive and soft.

Aaron couldn’t give a toss about it.

“Excuse me if I don’t think bein’ gay is funny,” he fires back, leans in a little and lets the anger radiate off his face, hoping Robert gets the message.

Apparently, he does, because his eyes just widen, and then he’s saying, “Aaron, I’m sorry. I didn’t-“

He knows he’s not exactly hiding his sexuality, but Aaron isn’t really advertising it either, so it sends him reeling back the second he realises Robert has figured out he’s gay.

He stands there panting, anger being replaced by panic, the air evacuating his lungs just as his heart takes residence in his ears.

He turns and walks away before his balance decides to go, can feel his knees weakening with each step he takes; thinks he hears Robert calling at him in the distance.

Calling him because he knows this thing about him.

Calling him because he knows he’s gay.

Shit.

:::::

He’s exiting his trailer when he runs into Robert again. Aaron almost bolts the instant he sees him — only to realise he’s blocking his way.

“Aaron, wait,” Robert pleads, looking up at him from the bottom of those short metal stairs. Aaron almost turns around and goes back inside.

But then he notices that Robert is still in his costume — which is not too much of a surprise — but it’s a sign that he’s been waiting outside this entire time. As much as he doesn’t want to, Aaron knows he must honour that. From what he’s seen, Robert Sugden does that for no one.

“You going to invite me inside?” Robert asks when he sees Aaron willingly to stick around in his trailer doorway.. His attempt at a teasing smile fades when he gets Aaron’s answer.

“Whatever you want to say in there, you can say out here.” Aaron crosses his hoodie-covered arms across his chest, retaining the warmth within it.

Robert nods, and takes one step higher, making this whole conversation a little more private. Aaron can smell him, even standing a few inches away; the intermingled scent of mud and sweat and Robert. (The note is slightly floral but kind of muted like Lavender, but Aaron can’t be sure because he doesn’t know flowers.)

“Sorry I made those jokes earlier,” Robert says softly, and Aaron can see that he’s being absolutely serious. “I don’t think being gay is funny…”

Aaron doesn’t say anything, just keeps on watching. He can see that Robert is on the edge of something.

After what feels likes very long pause, it finally drops. “… because I’m actually bisexual.”

He can’t seem to meet Aaron’s eyes as he says that, his cheeks going pink as he looks away and to the left. Standing this close Aaron can feel the tension radiating off of him in waves, coming over him in rapid succession.

Aaron swallows, not sure what exactly to make of it; his teenage dreams all coming true in an instant. So he bites his tongue and holds back his first three replies, and then offers the one he feels is most supportive.

“Thanks for telling me,” he says and he finds that he means it. He’s actually a little touched by Robert’s choice to trust him.

“Figured it was the least I owe you,” Robert says with a shy smile, and for a second Aaron really feels like he’s looking at Felix.

His inner Thomas makes him return it.

“That why you wanted to do this movie?” Aaron asks when the moment eventually passes. It’s a big question he knows, but he needs an answer.

“No, actually,” Robert explains with a chuckle, something raw and unguarded about him now. Like he’s been acting this entire time Aaron has known him.

“I’m a big fan of hers,” Robert says with an excited smile. “She was my mum’s favourite director.”

Aaron gets it and gives him a nod. “Yeah, I’m a big fan myself.”

Robert grins at this little piece of information, a bigger reward than he was expecting.

“Guess this means we should definitely be friends,” Robert suggests, shyness still lacing his voice. “Don’t know many people who’ve even heard of Harriet.”

Aaron studies Robert, takes the entirety of him in, considers it and then shrugs. “Guess you’re not a complete idiot.”

Robert’s smile when he says that is radiant.

:::::

That night he dreams of Robert, the same one he’d had when he was fifteen. Only this time his brain fills in all the missing details.

He needs another shower in the morning.

:::::

Things improve on set by a thousandfold. Robert’s one-sided jibes giving way to Aaron returning them, both of them ribbing and teasing each other between takes. Robert somehow becomes a mainstay on his trailer’s sofa, as they hang out a lot more between scenes, running lines and even whole scenes together.

They seem to have found a quiet understanding when it comes to each other and their space.. (Though, coming out to each other does that, Aaron supposes.)

It’s crazy, but he genuinely thinks it makes both of their scenes better. Both of them now freer with how they move and touch each other. Aaron had once read somewhere that it has to do with the language of how queer people sometimes act and speak; a quiet understanding of how love can be writ across their bodies. He doesn’t know how much he agrees with that exactly. But he does feel it when Robert hugs him as Felix.

It’s a gentle gesture, Robert coming from behind and embracing him around the waist, one hand coming up to rest over Aaron’s heart. Aaron presses those fingers close to his chest, letting Robert feel the steady rise of his heartbeat as he sinks back into him; Thomas leaning into Felix.

They stand like that in silence for a moment longer, Robert’s chin on Aaron’s shoulder, both of them

bathing in the pale sunlight of a cool autumn morning, as filtered through the dusty windows of Thomas’ work shed.

It’s as they’re standing, silently breathing and hearts quickly beating that Aaron is seized by a sudden urge. Following the wave of it, he brings Robert’s fingers up to his lips, gently pressing a kiss on each knuckle as if soothing away newly-formed blisters — the results of Felix’ recent hard labour.

The moment his lips touch skin he hears Robert’s breath hitch, but it only guides him forward. He holds that last kiss longest, before pulling away and spinning them around, Robert’s back now pressing into the edge of Thomas’ workstation, their hands caught between them; Aaron’s fingers wrapped around Robert’s wrist, his thumb resting on his speeding pulse.

Robert for his part, seems to be trusting Aaron implicitly as he gazes down at Aaron first with surprise and then excitement. He smiles softly, clearly anticipating a kiss. Aaron smiles back and obliges him.

It’s completely unscripted and wholly them and yet none of it feels any bit of wrong. Aaron leans forward, slowly edging closer, his eyes locked into Robert’s. He hovers for a second, feels his breath bounce off Robert’s lips, then dips forward and claims them.

This kiss doesn’t progress as quickly as the first one did, Robert letting Aaron set the pace by which they go by. So he takes his time, focuses on nipping at Robert’s bottom lip; gentle kisses that should convey Thomas’ affections.

But then Robert’s hands start to slide across his back, pulling and holding him closer — only nothing about the gesture feels overtly sexual. It’s just two men standing and savouring the act of kissing, two men revelling in their affections.

They kiss a little longer, the pace still languid, Robert letting him take his sweet time, before Aaron decides to pause and not take it any further.

He pulls away, lets out his own small exhale — the matching one to Robert’s. He smiles at him, Robert returns it. Then with another small breath he leans his forehead against the other man’s; shuts his eyes and feels the feel of his skin against his own.

A few seconds pass, Robert still holding him close, Aaron feeling like he’s just survived a continuous free fall.

It’s in the middle of this that he hears Harriet’s quietly spoken words, “And that’s a wrap. Not going to get a better take than that one.”

:::::

He’s on his way off set when Robert catches up with him, grabbing his elbow to still him.

He doesn’t let go even when Aaron stops in place, only does when Aaron looks at him questioningly, despite the whole thing feeling natural.

“You doing anything later?” Robert asks, both hands in his leather jacket pockets, a leather messenger bag slung across his chest and shoulders. “Thought you might like to come over for a drink.”

Aaron considers it, gives it a long hard thought, but it must make Robert panic because he blurts out, “We can run lines or something.”

“Yeah, okay,” Aaron tells him, giving him a nod. And then, because he thinks Robert might have the wrong impression of him and he doesn’t at all like that.

“We don’t always have to work, you know. I do have other interests..”

Robert grins and nudges him in the side. Then he goes into an impression of Aaron.

“I’m Aaron Dingle and I think work is fun. If you don’t, then you’re a right idiot.”

Aaron tries not to, but he can’t stop himself chuckling, a little charmed by Robert’s intonation.

:::::

He finds that Robert’s home is nothing like he’d imagined, more lived in and comfortable than overly posh — though he has all sorts of shiny appliances in the kitchen. A mark of either a man who cooks, or just someone who likes the aesthetic. (Aaron is willing to bet it’s the first one.)

The bookshelves — of which there are two big ones — are stuffed to the gills, brimming with books threatening to fall off them. The walls, a nice calming shade of blue, are covered in posters paying homage to some of his favourite works of science fiction.

“Didn’t know you were such a nerd,” Aaron says when he’s got a drink in hand, as he looks up at a poster of The Xavier Files, the show he’d been more than a little obsessed with. Robert is standing front and centre as the star, his boarding school uniform fitting him flatteringly. (Aaron swallows, his blood growing warmer as he understands where certain fantasies might have originated from. He tries not to think about it in case he’ll need another cold shower. He’s already taken one before coming to this place.)

“You just don’t understand art,” Robert retorts, coming over to join him. He looks at the poster for a good second and then adds, “Or quality science fiction.”

Aaron snorts at that, unable to contain himself. “Think you’re using the term rather loosely. The ‘Gavoorians’? Come on.”

Robert looks at him in surprise, and maybe a hint of pleasure, as he says, “Don’t tell me youwatched it?”

Aaron goes red, feels his mouth turn dry, so he answers as honestly as he can, trying not to let the truth of the matter slip out even as he looks Robert in the eye.

“Might have caught an episode or two one summer,” he says, voice straining to remain casual. Then he adds, because he can’t help himself, “Saw the one where you kissed Pete Barton.”

Robert’s face goes from surprise to embarrassment to all-out amusement, barking a laugh with his neck tipped back, his shoulders relaxing and also dipping down. Aaron’s never seen him this joyful.

“What?” Robert says, growing suddenly conscious, his laughter fading and his body going still. His cheeks are pink as he studies Aaron.

“Nothing,” Aaron shrugs, voice above a whisper. His ears are hot, his pulse pounding. “Just wasn’t expecting this reaction, is all.”

“Well, it’s a bit of a surprise,” Robert explains, as if it all makes sense. “Didn’t think you’d have even heard of it, let alone watched it.”

“Why not? Because I don’t understand ‘science fiction’?” Aaron teases, oddly thrilled at subverting Robert’s expectations like this. “Don’t have to watch a lot to understand quality.”

“So you agree,” Robert smirks, nudging him with his elbow, a twinkle in his eye. “It is science fiction.”

Aaron snorts, nudges him back. “I suppose. But you’re really stretching the definition.”

They smile at each other, then go back to sipping their drinks, settling comfortably in the silence.

“I loved working on that show,” Robert says after quite a long beat, his voice holding a note of pride. But it’s quiet and with absolutely no hint of preening. “And kissing Pete wasn’t half bad either.”

Aaron feels his cheeks redden as he pictures it again, teenage Pete and Robert going at it.

“Did you have a crush on him, or something?” He looks down at the glass in his hand. He’d never thought he’d be having this conversation with Robert Sugden.

“God, no.” Robert shakes his head beside him. “Pete was pretty fit, but he’s pretty much as straight as they come.”

He waits a beat and then adds, “Decent kisser though.”

How about me? Am I decent too? Aaron wants to ask. But he just chuckles in amusement, enjoying this behind the scenes glimpse into one of his favourite episodes of television ever.

“But what about you?” Robert asks, turning his attention to Aaron. He finishes the last of his drink and asks, “Did you fancy him?”

His smile is conspiratorial and all kinds of knowing. His eyes are dark but inscrutable. Aaron’s cheeks redden despite himself, as he struggles not to blurt out, No. I fancied you, you idiot.

What he does manage to say, after a long moment of waiting, is, “Well, I wasn’t watching for the plot. Was I?”

It doesn’t feel like lying, because it is completely true. Though he does see the flash of something in Robert’s eyes. It disappears behind a laugh a moment later.

“No, I guess not,” Robert concedes, turning and walking over to the sofa. When he takes his seat, it’s with his legs spread wide, all the focus on his crotch. Aaron struggles to not let his gaze drift downward, keeping it trained on Robert’s face instead. And honestly, it’s worth it.

Robert’s smiling up at Aaron, buzzing with excitement. Aaron smiles back because it’s infectious.

“If you liked The Xavier Files, there’s a film you should check out,” he says, switching on his TV, Aaron no longer the focus of his attention. He pulls up Netflix, slowly searches through it, before he asks, “Have you seen The Cabin in the Woods?”

The way he’s looking at Aaron now is just pulling at all his heartstrings, an element of youth befalling all of Robert’s features. His eyes are sparkling, his smile is crooked, and his excitement is radiating off of him.

Robert Sugden: Horror fan.

“Uh, no, I haven’t,” Aaron says shaking his head to clear it. It wouldn’t do to fall for Robert Sugden again. Not when he’s a full-fledged adult. Not when he could accidentally act on it. (Aaron’s always has a rule against dating fellow co-stars or crew members. But no one’s been openly queer enough to test that — or even simply Robert Sugden.)

“Oh, you’re in for a treat,” Robert says patting the sofa seat beside him. Aaron glances at the screen where the movie is waiting, already cued up, then goes ahead and joins him. “Joss Whedon wrote and directed it.”

Even sitting next to Robert makes his heart rate spike, as does the warmth he feels from his proximity. Robert’s choice to sit in the middle of the sofa and almost spread himself out means he’s just a few fingers far away from Aaron, their hands centimetres apart on the same cushion; the dip caused by Aaron sitting causing Robert’s hand to slide a little closer to him.

He barely manages a nod when he hears Robert talk to him, asking him if he can start the movie. (He would have said yes, but his tongue has ceased to work. Another symptom of sitting next to Robert.)

The film begins and Robert reaches forward and places the remote on the coffee table and suddenly Aaron can focus once more; the thought of Robert accidentally touching him no longer playing on his mind, now free to enjoy the movie.

But as he watches the story of a group of friends — one played by Chris Hemsworth — who decide to spend a weekend in a cabin in the woods, there’s a growing sense of disappointment.

He quickly looks over to Robert’s hands in his lap, and starts to wish they were once again closer.

:::::

He doesn’t have to worry for very much longer, Robert reaching out and grabbing his forearm, when the movie presents its first real scare. Aaron isn’t expecting it, the move causing his heart rate to surge for the monster on screen itself, the feeling of warm, solid fingers clutching him clear even through thick fabric.

As it turns out Robert’s not a very passive watcher, constantly leaning over to make asides or jokes. But mostly it’s all facts he finds fun about the movie. (Aaron agrees. They’re actually quite interesting.)

It’s sweet, Aaron thinks, as he gets more and more invested, both fretting for the imperilled college students and watching Robert.

Gone is the tall and handsome actor who practically grew up in the limelight. In his stead sits a tall, handsome, and surprisingly knowledgeable genre film buff. He’s on the edge of his seat and mostly turned toward Aaron, a bit of a contrasting match to his own seating. (Aaron’s sat back, leaning on the right arm of the sofa, a little too tired to really make himself sit up properly.)

There’s another scare. Robert’s grip tightens. Aaron hides a chuckle at Robert’s expression, the shock of fear stealing the words out of his mouth. He’s left eyes wide, mouth open, and gaping. It’s almost as if this is his first time watching the movie.

Robert doesn’t seem to notice himself holding Aaron’s arm as the movie ticks on, and for his part, Aaron doesn’t alert him.

:::::

He’s enjoying the movie well enough when Robert excitedly tugs at his arm.

“This is my favourite part,” he says, before turning to look at Aaron, eyes crinkling in delight at the edges.

He’s not sure what it is in that moment — the steady warmth of Robert’s grip, the pinks of his cheeks undercutting his freckles, or the reminder of how much he used to want him — but there’s a swell in his chest and Aaron leans forward and steals a kiss from Robert.

His lips feel just like they have every other time, soft, firm, and tender. But unlike all those times they’ve kissed on camera, his co-star isn’t responding.

Panic sets in and Aaron instantly pulls back. He sees that Robert is frozen in surprise; lips barely puckered. Instantly, he realises he got carried away by his feelings, and so backtracks as quickly as possible.

“Sorry,” he mumbles, getting to his feet, Robert’s hand falling away in the process. The loss of warmth immediately starts to smart, Aaron already having gotten used to the feel of it.

“Aaron,” Robert starts, but he just cuts him off.

“I shouldn’t have done that,” Aaron swallows roughly unable to look at Robert again, his embarrassment turning his stomach. He feels like he might throw up. “Better go home now. Early call time tomorrow.”

With that, Aaron bolts out of the room and then out the front door all without waiting for another word from Robert.

:::::

He doesn’t sleep a wink that night, just replays the moment in his mind.

Each time it gets worse than before, Robert looking at him in shock bordering on disgust, green-blue eyes flashing. (Aaron knows objectively that Robert didn’t actually sneer at him, but emotionally he might as well have.)

This is what happens when you let your feelings get confused, Aaron chides himself, tossing and turning, his sheets all a tangle. This is why you can’t fall for your co-star.

By the time it’s morning he’s tenser than before. But at least he knows what to say to him.

:::::

He goes to Robert’s trailer before he goes to his own, knocking on the door once and then going right in.

Immediately he’s faced with an eyeful of half-naked Robert in snug boxer-briefs, pacing the space and going over his lines by himself.

Aaron loses his voice, his throat going dry. He just stands there in stunned silence. (He has actually seen Robert without a top on a few times before this, courtesy of a few of his movies. But like with all things, real life is proving better. He’d forgotten just how many freckles he has — and how much he used to want to count them.)

Robert notices him ogling him a few seconds later, and he pauses mid-pace. Just stands there frozen, script page in hand.

“Hi,” Aaron says, for lack of anything better. He smiles nervously, both his hands tucked in his coat pockets, watching Robert quietly.

“Hey,” Robert greets back, sounding almost relieved to see him. He doesn’t look like he’s slept either — probably trying to come up with ways with which to let Aaron down gently. Aaron swallows nervously.

At least you don’t have your cock out again, he wants to joke. But now hardly feels like the time for that.

“About yesterday,” Robert begins, taking a step forward, his tone already sounding apologetic.

Aaron takes that as his cue to take over, and so springs into action.

“It was a mistake,” he says matter-of-factly, having practiced this a few times coming in. “I got carried away. Forgot we’re not Felix and Thomas. Don’t worry it won’t happen again.”

Learned my lesson the hard way.

Robert’s brow is furrowing and he doesn’t seem too pleased. Probably because Aaron is issuing a gentle let down for him. He’d figured this was the easiest way to save face: to acknowledge his crime and issue an apology, save Robert the trouble of having to do any heavy lifting.

“Besides,” Aaron says, trying to lighten the mood, even though it’s absolutely twisting him inside. “Wouldn’t want any rumours ruinin’ ya chances, eh Mr. Bond?”

He offers him a smile, but it feels too watery and shallow. He’s barely able to keep his lips turned upward for long.

Robert’s expression doesn’t soften even a bit, just grows more dark and displeasured. He opens his mouth to say something, but before he can the trailer door swings open.

“Oh excellent,” Harriet states, coming in with a smile, happy to see both of them. “This should save me some time.”

She must sense the tension in the air, the trailer now thick with the smell of it. Her smile fades and she looks between them, then asks, “Everything alright?”

Aaron chances a glance at Robert and finds him looking almost inscrutable. (Though to be fair, his mind hasn’t moved on from the fact that he’s practically naked.)

“Just fine,” Aaron says, with another thin smile, this one a little easier than that first one.

He’s not sure if she believes him, but she does nod anyway, so he finds that to be heartening.

“There’s been a bit of a change in the shooting schedule, seeing as the weather forecast for today is a bit unexpected,” Harriet tells them, looking from Aaron over to Robert. “So we’re going to try and do today’s scenes tomorrow, and tomorrow’s stuff today. You fine with that?”

Aaron thinks real fast, runs through his memory, trying to figure out what tomorrow brings. He realises it a second later, his stomach sinking quickly, filled with dread about how they’re going to do this.

“Yeah, sure,” Robert replies, sounding quite casual, like what’s about to happen isn’t a big deal to him.

Aaron doesn’t know whether to be hurt or happy, so he just files it as a temporary win. He nods his acceptance when Harriet looks at him questioningly, then follows it up with a, “Should be fine.”

“Perfect! I’ll let the rest of the cast know, and I’ll get makeup in here first thing,” Harriet says, smiling in relief. “Why don’t you two work on any blocking you feel you might need? Especially since all of this is short notice.”

She turns and leaves, the door slamming shut behind her. Leaving nothing but aching silence.

When Aaron finally hazards a glance, he sees that Robert’s staring down at his script page, all focused like if he stares hard enough he can change what just happened.

“So do you want to…” Aaron starts, gesturing between them, unsure what else to say. He kicks himself mentally once again, for ruining any progress in the working relationship between them.

Robert sighs, long and deep, then says, “Suppose we can just figure it out when we both get there.”

He only looks at Aaron when he’s done talking, like he can’t bear to look at him.

Aaron nods his agreement. “Cool. Better get going then. Get into today’s ‘costume.’”

It’s meant to be a joke but Robert doesn’t respond. Just nods back at him pensively.

Aaron desperately wants to ask if everything’s alright between them, but he doesn’t want to make the situation any worse than it seems to be already.

“Yeah, great. See you on set,” Robert finally says, turning away, and walking towards the opposite end of his trailer. A non-verbal dismissal.

Aaron exits, then shuts the door, letting out a sigh as he leans back against it.

It was every bit as awkward as he’d expected — only now it’s been ratcheted up to a million. They’re going to need every single bit of their acting skills if they’re going to sell what’s about to happen. Because Aaron’s not sure how else he and Robert are going to get through the rest of this day, when they’ll both be shooting Thomas and Felix’ first sex scene.

:::::

He stands there, script page in hand and a growing pit in his stomach, as Robert Sugden walks up to him with a grin.

“What you waiting for? Get your kit off.”

The words hit him before the tone does, Robert’s voice sounding teasing but brittle. Aaron’s eyes shoot up towards him, and he sees that the smile on his face is nowhere near his eyes and he’s clearly keeping up pretences.

Right, of course, Aaron tells himself, after getting over the initial surprise of it. We’re all actors here. No point pretending.

It’s silly and it shouldn’t sting as much as it does but Aaron’s still aches at Robert’s reaction. It’s one thing to not be interested in his romantic advances, but it’s another thing to pretend they completely didn’t happen. (He knows it’s hypocritical to feel this way, seeing as he’d actually prayed they could do this last night. But now that he’s living the exact reality he’d hoped for, he knows to be careful what you wish for.)

Still, he smiles right back, feels it hurt to even do so, as he lobs back a response of his own. Both of them standing there in bathrobes.

“Why don’t you get yours off first?”

Robert’s eyes widen, but his smile never falters. Instead, he winks and says, loud enough for anyone standing close by to hear, “Looks like you’ll be getting your wish soon enough.”

Aaron rolls his eyes, but his cheeks are still blushing, Robert having hit upon a wish from his youth.

Thankfully, Robert doesn’t see it, Harriet having arrived on the closed, private set, the number of people limited to just her, the two of them, and a small team of production people.

When she gives them a nod, they both strip out of their robes, both of them left standing naked, except for their actors’ modesty socks hiding their cocks and balls. Aaron does his best to keep his gaze level and facing forward, as he goes and finds his mark. The scene involves Felix making love to Thomas, on the floor of the latter’s barn.

The wooden floorboards are tad bit cool and just a little prickly — stray stalks of hay strewn across them — Aaron discovers as his bare back and arse come to rest against them, the sensation causing his skin to stand on end and his back wanting to arch off of it.

Aaron doesn’t have much time to process it, because now Robert’s crawling into his position, slowly lowering himself across Aaron and coming to rest on both his forearms. Aaron keeps his eyes pointed towards the barn ceiling and the rig of artificial lighting, hoping to make things as less awkward as possible.

He can feel Robert’s breath against his cheek, and the heat of him on his arms and chest as they silently hold these poses for the lighting check; Robert is now laying between Aaron’s spread and bent thighs, his arse exposed for everyone to see — not that he seems to care or even looks embarrassed. Instead, Aaron can feel him looking down at him, pinning him to the ground where he’s laying. Still, he refuses to look back at him, his heart furiously beating, as he refuses to make even a hint of eye contact; his last vestige of privacy.

“This isn’t going to work,” Robert says with a sigh after what feels like a day and an age, and Aaron feels his stomach clench, preparing for Robert to clamber off him, already missing him despite no part of them really touching at the moment. “Not if you don’t look at me.”

That gets Aaron’s attention and he looks up into Robert’s eyes, where he finds nothing but calm and watchful understanding.

“What?” He whispers, not meaning to come off so rude, but he’s nervous about what Robert might say and this is a pre-emptive strike — a test to see if he can handle it.

“About yesterday-” Robert begins, and Aaron immediately protests.

“I thought we were done talking about it.”

“No,” Robert insists, voice firm and kind of steely. ���You talked about it. I just listened.”

Aaron swallows and lays there, his heart in his ears, as he wishes himself anywhere but here.

But then without warning, Robert dips down and kisses him, a firm press across his lips before a tongue swipes against the bottom one. Aaron grants him eager entry.

Robert pulls back, a half a moment later, remains naked and panting over Aaron.  

“What was that?” Aaron asks, body locked in surprise, though his cock is already having a bit of a reaction. He tries his hardest not to think about it.

“What I wish I’d done last night,” Robert replies, speaking softly, as he shoots Aaron a tentative smile. “What I wish I’d done this morning.”

“You mean…” Aaron trails off, struggling to compute, still feeling like this puzzle is missing a few pieces. Any thoughts about his dick fall by the wayside.

“I like you, Aaron,” Robert says like it’s a well known fact, and not something he just demonstrated with his tongue down Aaron’s throat. “And as you can see, I don’t really care who knows it.”

Aaron glances around and sees that no one’s really paying them much attention, Harriet studying the film monitors in front of her from the director’s seat, the sound guys standing and chatting in the corner.

“Guess that’s a relief,” Aaron finally sighs, when he comes back to look up at Robert’s face. “Seein’ as I like you too.”

It’s like a wave ripples between them because suddenly they’re both touching in millions of tiny ways. Robert’s arms move a little closer, Aaron’s a little wider, both their limbs now settling together. Robert’s planking position lowers, causing him to actually lay across Aaron, their chests just centimetres apart, even as their belly buttons touch, and their cocks, swaddled in their actors’ modesty socks now rest against each other; both steadily hardening. (Aaron smiles as he realises that, flushed with pride that Robert Sugden wants him.)

“So, you going to kiss me back or what?” Robert then asks, smiling down at Aaron, his arms framing either side of his face.

Aaron shakes his head, grinning back cheekily. “Thought we’d save it for the camera.”

:::::

When Harriet yells, “Action,” Robert’s focused and gazing into his eyes. But he doesn’t lunge forward like Aaron expects him to.

Instead, he slowly comes forward, nudges his nose against Aaron’s, before touching their lips together and letting them hover that way for a second, before increasing the pressure, one hand coming to holding the side of Aaron’s face.

Slowly, Aaron’s waiting lips part, as he opens his mouth and lets his tongue curl and slide against Robert’s; allowing him to steal the breath right out of him.

They kiss like that for a couple of minutes, Aaron’s hands sliding up Robert’s back to wrap around the balls of his shoulders, half holding, half gently kneading.

Slowly and gently, Robert starts to rock in place, dragging his thick and hard cock against Aaron’s. He may be simulating sex, but the feelings are all real, as Aaron feels his own shaft throbbing and aching harder.

Robert kisses his way down his jaw, and then his neck and then his chest, Aaron’s back arching unconsciously against him.

Robert comes back up kiss at his lips, the movement of his hips growing faster.

Aaron closes his eyes and pictures his teenage self and all his exploration of sexuality with another boy in his class in the local village pavilion. None of that compares to Felix and Thomas’ first time, none of that compares to this moment with Robert.

Another wave comes over him and he gives himself into it, rolling them over so Robert is now under him; shaggy hair blending with the straw on the wooden floorboards. Aaron takes his lips in his and resumes their kissing.

He continues to grind, increasing the pressure and speed just a little, chasing that spark that shoots through him when their cocks touch through their socks at just the right spot. He can feels his balls tighten and Robert groan into his mouth, the sound of it soaked with wanting. His own cock feels swollen, now more than thick and leaking, the leaking come making the fabric stick to him and his erect shaft more than sensitive.

Aaron can see his climax rising on the horizon, can feel it gathering at the base of his spine, the pressure building to a tall cresting wave, threatening to crash down over him. Under him, Robert continues softly groaning, loose hands scoring up and down Aaron’s back; the movements causing a little thrill of pleasure.

Then just when his orgasm starts to move towards his peak, pushed onward by the friction between their penises, he hears a sound that causes him to stop almost instantly, and Robert to whine under him.

Aaron lays there panting, cock now more than aching, he curses the gods and this particular profession. He brings his forehead to rest against Robert’s. The sweat on both their brows mingling as the chill in the barn begins to set in.

“Alright,” says Harriet from somewhere behind them. Her voice is firm and brooks no questions. So they know better than to protest it. “This was great. But let’s try that again.”

Aaron drops his head into Robert’s neck and groans.

:::::

An hour later he starts to wonder if Harriet is doing this intentionally; guiding them close to the edge with her takes and directions, only to cause them to pull back again, just adding to their rising frustrations.

His only solace is the presence of Robert, who moves from over to under — and even one time, beside — him, as they keep kissing and grinding against each other for the camera; both more sensitive than ever.

“Come back to mine after,” Aaron grunts softly in the middle of one take, too soft for the boom controller to hear him. Robert’s mouth nipping at his shoulder.

“And do what?” Robert whispers, when Aaron rolls them over. It’s clear that he’s a little beyond thinking.

Aaron gets it, biting his tongue as a wave of pleasure sweeps through him.  

“What do you think?” He asks, through gritted teeth, as his hips begin simulating trusting. Then he grins slyly as he looks down into Robert’s unfocused eyes.

“Reckon we could run lines or something.”

:::::

They bolt off set before Harriet can even declare it a wrap — or pull either one aside to talk to them — neither of them able to keep the smile off their faces. Aaron tries not to speed, or run a red light, but it’s a struggle with Robert’s right hand on his thigh, slowly inching higher and higher the entire time.

He manages to still his breathing — and his body’s tetchy reaction — as they exit the vehicle and later enter his building. In fact, they make it all the way up and into his flat, without him making even a single move to try and tear Robert’s clothes off.

“Nice place,” Robert says, as Aaron shuts and locks the door behind. Aaron glances around at the classic film posters on his own living room walls and the lived-in state of his sofa; the prime location for all his movie marathons between projects.

“Thought you might want to see it,” Aaron says coming up to stand in front of him, his hands coming to rest on Robert’s lips.

“You were right about that,” Robert says, though his focus is on him. He smiles and adds, “I’m a big fan of Aaron Dingle.”

Aaron smiles back. There’s a flutter in his chest, like a flock of birds flying back after winter. He swallows roughly and gives his answer, his voice coming out rougher as his gaze drops to Rober’s lips, “I’m right about a lot of things. Guess you’re going to have to remind me.”

That’s all it takes because Robert’s lips are on his, with all the urgency of a man drowning.

Aaron grabs at his jacket and starts pushing it off him, as he also walks him to the bedroom.

They stumble a little, the room still a mess from this morning, Robert grabbing Aaron’s biceps so as to not trip backwards over a pair of kicked trainers lying in the middle of the floor.

“You know, a little tidying never hurt anyone,” Robert says coming back in for a kiss.

“Do you want to talk cleaning, or do you want to fuck?” Aaron growls back, still very frustrated from this morning.

Robert stripping him of his hoodie is his answer.

Grinning into the kiss, Aaron tugs Robert’s shirt up and out of his jeans and then makes quick work of the buttons up front — not caring if he loses one. He pushes it off him, and trails kisses down his neck, before pausing to nip once at his collarbone.

Robert inhales sharply, pressing closer into him. So Aaron does it again, just a little bit harder, earning him a groaned, Aaron.

Smiling again, he licks the same area once, then kisses it as if to make it better. Then he turns his attention to Robert’s jeans, his dick already bulging in the front of it.

Robert’s hands are once again moving, pushing Aaron’s own jeans down to pool against his feet. He tries to step out of them, while undoing Robert’s belt buckle, only to feel one of Robert cup his cock through the fabric of his boxers, the pressure firm but gentle.

Aaron lets out a gasp as Robert just chuckles, “Well, hello there Mr. Dingle.”

“Do you ever shut up?” Aaron asks, as he tried to focus on the jeans button in front of him, Robert’s cock already straining against his zipper, as his hand slips from outside Aaron’s boxers into them, drawing out a shuddered gasp as he squeezes his erection.

“Make me,” Robert says with a smug little grin, the words a low purr that goes straight to Aaron’s eardrum.

Aaron takes him up on his offer, kissing him thoroughly, before pushing him back against his mattress.

A thrill runs up his back as he sees a mostly naked Robert Sugden, resting on his elbows and across the unmade purple sheets of his bed. He kneels down at the base of his bed, then reaches up and pulls the hem of Robert’s underwear down. His cock springs out, already wet and leaking, and every bit as long and thick as Aaron had expected.

He runs a hand up it, giving it a test of a stroke, in front of him Robert twitches.

Pleased with the response, Aaron leans forward and hovers over it, feeling Robert’s eyes watching carefully. Then he smiles up at him, before dropping his head down as he sets up about fulfilling a fantasy.

On either side of his head, Robert’s thighs jerking and flexing — just like that first day in the trailer. Only this time it’s Aaron with his mouth on his cock, him being the one to draw the groans out of Robert.

Down between his own legs, his cock is once again aching, having been denied release too many times in one day. Aaron wraps a hand around it, smearing his own pre-come over his head and down around it, his thumb flicking the edge of his frenulum and causing a thrill of excitement. He keeps on steadily stroking.

When he feels Robert nearing the edge — now more than well-versed in his body — Aaron pulls off and hears the expected moan of disappointment. He gives him a kiss as he reaches for the lube, eager to avoid a painful experience.

He slides two fingers in, gently twisting and scissoring, Robert groaning and pushing down into it.

When he feels he’s ready, Aaron slides his now slick dick into Robert and gets a satisfied sigh for his efforts.

He waits a second for Robert to adjust to the discomfort, but all he gets is grunted, “Hurry up and fuck me.”

Doing as he says, Aaron sets up a punishing pace, the front of his thighs smacking against the back of Robert’s in a satisfying rhythm.

It’s not too long before he feels his climax once again approaching, having been at the edge of his fingertips all day. Below him, Robert’s busy stroking himself as he keeps on moaning Aaron’s name, punctuated by a gasp every time Aaron hits that special spot.

His neck is tipped back and his eyes are tight shut, his hand is rapidly pumping, Robert lost to the build of his own orgasm.

With his own edge within sight, Aaron makes a quick decision, he leans down, hips still rolling as he positions himself right beside Robert’s ear, and then whispers, “It was you I liked, not Pete Barton.”

He hears Robert’s strangled cry and his come hit his chest. It’s enough to make him come inside him.

:::::

He wakes up a few hours later to Robert on his phone, just laying next to him naked. The white light from the small iPhone screen illuminates the side profile of his face in a strong but gentle white glow; his features looking like he was sculpted from marble.

There’s a fondness in his eyes and a glow in his cheeks as he lays on his back, biting his bottom lip, staring at the screen intently, probably skimming the news on a gossip news site. (Aaron actually reads a few of them himself, a couple proving quite reliable in terms of casting news and breakdowns.)

“Anything good?” He asks, when he’s drunk his fill — though he’s finding that his thirst for Robert might be bottomless.

Robert doesn’t startle or even really flinch, just looks over at him like he was gently awakened. His smile is radiant — but more so in this light, white teeth flashing in the phone light, which also renders his freckles a little paler.

“Nothing as good as what’s right here,” Robert says, affection coming through loud and clear. He then lifts his right arm above his head, an open invitation.

Aaron accepts it, shuffling in closer, and bringing the covers with him. He snuggles in closer until his head is resting on the ball of Robert’s shoulder as he turns himself sideways on his left side. Robert’s arm comes back down, wrapping around his back and resting on the curve of his arse.

When Aaron turns towards the phone screen he sees instead that it’s a book, Robert’s attention instead captured by some kind of video.

It takes him a second to clock what’s happening on screen, because then he gasps in disbelief.

“Are you watching my episode of Black Mirror?” He shifts to gaze up at him, searching Robert’s face for any detail of an answer.

“Why?” He asks, horrified.

Robert turns from the phone to look down at him, and then says without any embarrassment or shame. “The first time I ever saw this, I knew I had to meet you.”

“You’re joking me,” Aaron barks a laugh. “My character was mental.”

“Yeah,” Robert agrees, his index finger now rubbing a lazy circle into Aaron’s hip, the feel and motion of it deeply soothing. “But you played him with such intensity.”

“Probably just thought I was fit, or something,” Aaron protests, rolling his eyes at Robert. “I spent half the episode naked.”

“Well, obviously there was that,” Robert concedes, but even with his playful tone, Aaron can tell he still means it. That he’d actually been attracted to Aaron’s acting.

“Does this mean you fantasized about me?” Aaron asks cheekily, even though he’s nervous about the answer.

“If I didn’t, I’d be mental,” Robert says with all the confidence in the world, like this is an undisputed fact.

He’d wanted to hear it, but it still makes him blush. Aaron rolls inward towards Robert’s shoulder. Robert’s hand and finger don’t stop their circling.

“Shut up,” he chides him gently.

“It’s true though,” Robert admits, voice quiet in the night, his face growing ever more thoughtful. “It’s why I wanted to do this project. Figure at least this way I’d get a chance to work with you.”

“More like, hoped you’d get a chance to shag me,” Aaron retorts, but there’s nothing in his voice but affectionate lightness.

“Not going to lie and say I didn’t dream about that,” Robert chuckles. “Though I did really hope you might be bisexual as well.”

“Worked out in the end, I suppose,” Aaron says quietly.

Robert hums his agreement. On his phone screen a younger version of Aaron fights against a male co-star.

Time passes, a few more moments go by, then Aaron says, trying not to keep the worry from creeping into his voice too much, “You know, if people find out about us, we might have to come out publicly.”

He doesn’t want to say it, but he feels like he has to, not wanting to cost Robert his career. “You could lose the Bond role.”

“I told you, Aaron, I don’t care who finds out.” It doesn’t sound flippant, and it doesn’t sound thrown away. It sounds sure as can be and confident. “Didn’t exactly take this job to prove I could do my own stunts. Though I think we both did well on that front.”

Robert pinches his hip as if to underscore the point, sending a spark of shock right through him. Aaron startles and arches his back closer, his bare chest now snug into Robert’s side.

“You’re an idiot, you know that?” Aaron grumbles poking his chest. Under his left ear, Robert shakes with quiet laughter.

“Yes, but an idiot you like,” Robert says when he can finally answer. “And an idiot you had a crush on.”

Aaron rubs his hip sorely. “I can still kick you out of bed, you know.”

“You wouldn’t do that to a poor, defenceless, idiot,” Robert offers in his defence. Aaron just rolls his eyes at it.

“Do you seriously ever shut up?” He questions, not really annoyed.

Robert’s voice is low when he replies, “Like I said. Go ahead and make me.”

Aaron comes up for a kiss.

:::::

They do come out eventually, when doing the rounds to promote the movie, and all their fears are brushed aside as it makes their stock rise even higher. Suddenly they have interviews scheduled with all the top publications, with joint profiles in both The Guardian and Variety. (Aaron asks his mum to go buy extras of both, his idea to have them framed as an eventual moving-in present.)

The movie’s a success as it starts to do the circuit, opening first in limited release and then going wider and wider. It garners great reviews, most of it focusing on Aaron and Robert’s performance, with plenty of mentions of their chemistry. (Robert particularly likes reading those aloud in bed, pulling them up on his phone not long after Aaron awakens.)

Amongst all the furor and the immense fan support, the good news start to trickle in. George Miller wants to meet Aaron to discuss a possible part in Mad Max, while Robert has a meeting about playing Bond after all. As it turns out, times are very definitely changing, and the minds in charge of the franchise have decided they’d quite like to adapt along with it. Neither of them expect anything to actually come of it. But they still joke about Robert wearing that suit and celebrate.  

A few months after that, Harriet calls waking them both up, the film — as well as both their performances and her direction — having been nominated for an Oscar. They lay there together, Robert’s phone on speaker on Aaron’s bare chest, his cheek close beside it, neither of them daring to breathe in their shocked silence.

Aaron cracks first, a long and loud laugh, seconds later Robert starts to join him.

“Can you believe it?” Robert asks, lifting his head. The diffused sunlight from the hotel room balcony window backlights him, showing off his bedhead in all its glory.

“Sure I can,” Aaron shrugs easily, taking in the high cheekbones and the freckles dotting them, the unexpected pinkness of Robert’s lips. Then he looks into Robert’s eager eyes, letting the now-alert green and blue wash over him. “Harriet Finch, innit?”

“But you and me, nominated for an Oscar…” Robert quietly marvels. “Do you think we could win?”

Aaron just watches him, memorising this face, already planning their celebration. He brings a hand up, and cups Robert’s cheek, stroking a thumb across a warm cheekbone. Then he leans up, gives him a soft kiss, then lies back, his head hitting the pillow.

Robert’s eyes open slowly, and his smile grows softer; a small one that he reserves for Aaron.

“Reckon we could,” Aaron says, feeling himself return it. “Who doesn’t love a good love story?”