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autumn-leaves · 3 months ago

Note

it's fanfic writer appreciation week and i wanted to take a minute to appreciate you!! i recently read your vld fic on AO3 and loved it so much. you're a very talented writer with creative ideas and great dialogue. you're also a delightful person to interact with in any capacity!! i think you have a lot to be proud of :)

I am. So genuinely touched by this, thank you 😭 I have been a very big fan of your writing for years now, and knowing you have read my writing is insane, and I'm especially grateful because I know you cut ties with that fandom a while ago.

Thank you so much for this kind message, I read it and blacked out and wrote a camp camp fic for you 😭😭 hope you enjoy, and thank you for being you!!! <3

(written all in one go and barely checked for errors, so my apologies for any mistakes)

When Gwen woke up that morning, she knew it was going to be a terrible day. She didn’t know the how or the why yet, but deep down something was telling her to roll over, close her eyes, and block out the world until the sun rose again tomorrow.

Unfortunately for Gwen, that wasn’t how being responsible for a group of kids worked, no matter whether the kids in question were absolute shits or not. So, instead, she took a deep breath, forced her eyes back open and sat up looking over to David’s side of the shared councillors cabin. Normally Gwen would wake to the sight of David preparing supplies for the day’s craft activities, or planning the hiking route, or even doing some kind of strengthening yoga routine, which took entirely too much energy and willpower for five thirty in the morning, in Gwen’s opinion.

Instead, what greeted her today was a vaguely David-shaped lump under the covers. Gwen blinked once, then twice, but the view didn’t change. In all the time Gwen has worked alongside David, she cannot recall a single instance in which she has woken up before him, and it does nothing to calm her nerves.

Shrugging it off, she hauls herself out of bed and into the shower, and by the time she emerges David is up and ready to go, smiling and chattering away as usual, and part of her relaxes. Maybe today won't be so bad.

Typically, the day gets worse.

That, in and of itself, isn’t strictly unusual for Camp Campbell, but it’s a different brand of WrongTM today, one that Gwen does not care for. That morning in the mess hall, a food fight had broken out, getting so bloodthirsty that multiple windows ended up smashed, shattering completely. Honestly? Gwen couldn’t care less; that was a problem for the Quartermaster. Their first activity of the day had been archery, which had ended in a flaming arrow planting itself firmly into their trash bin and starting a foul-smelling, impossible-to-put-out, literal dumpster fire. That’s whatever, if Gwen is honest. Lunch had passed in a blur, in which David and Gwen had had to ban knives, leaving the kids to poke aimlessly at their food with plastic sporks, but she thought maybe the little shits deserved it.

Collapsing back onto her spot on the councillors table with David, she watched them wolf down their ice cream, clearly none of them willing to risk the rare treat by acting out, then looked sideways at David, pleasantly surprised to see him looking almost as exhausted as she felt. Don’t get her wrong; it’s not that she wanted her friend to be miserable, it’s just that he had this incredibly frustrating ability to remain the happiest, most chipper person on the planet in the face of the most infuriating circumstances. Sometimes it made Gwen feel insane, like she was the only one aware of what was going on in the camp.

Some of that relief faded, however, when David rested his forehead in his hands and mumbled, “How is it only lunchtime?”, with a weariness she’d never heard from him in her life.

Frowning, she tilted her head down, trying to catch his attention. “What’s up with you?” She asks, and she doesn’t think it sounds angry until David is whipping his head up, plastering a - somewhat unnerving - smile across his face.

“Sorry, Gwen! Nothing’s wrong, today just seems to be a bit of a slower day today, is all. At least that means more time for fun activities, though!”.

She realises it’s meant to be reassuring, but honestly it’s downright freaky watching David put a personality on like a coat.

“Are you okay, David?” She presses, voice slightly softer than before.

“Of course I am, Gwen! Why wouldn’t I be? The sun is out, the birds are singing and I’m here at Camp-”

“Don’t bullshit me, David.” She says, her gut feeling from the morning coming back full force. “What is it? Was it Campbell? Are we getting more budget cuts? Or was there a complaint? Are we getting a surprise inspection, or - oh god, is our pay going down?” She asks, thoughts going a mile a minute about what could possibly have made David look so defeated a few moments ago.

“What? Gwen - no, it’s nothing like that.” David replies, a little startled. He sighs, and then he looks tired again. He’s still smiling, but it's smaller and a little awkward, and it’s so not David but somehow more David than Gwen thinks she’s ever seen him. “I’m just a little under the weather, that’s all.” He finishes, quietly, like he’s scared the campers might hear. Which - fair, Gwen can only imagine what those little assholes would do if they sensed weakness.

“Under the weather how?” She asks, sceptical.

He frowns, but seems to weigh his options and decide being honest is a better choice than keeping quiet, because he answers all the same. “A headache. And maybe a minor fever, some dizziness. I’m mostly just tired, so it’s nothing a little rest won’t fix. I’ll be right as rain tomorrow, don’t worry.”

Looking at him now, like, really looking, Gwen realises he’s pale and a little shaky; there’s bags under his eyes and a slight flush on the heights of his cheeks like he’s been rushing around, which he has, but she suspects it has more to do with fever than it does managing the kids. Part of her wants to reach out and press her hand to her forehead, but she gets the feeling David wouldn’t appreciate that, especially not in front of all of the children because god forbid he shows them that sometimes he isn’t having the time of his life, enjoying camp every step of the way. God forbid they see him as human, and not a punching bag only there for entertainment.

“You know, I can handle the kids for an hour or two if you want a power nap? I’ll get the coloured paper and markers out and make up some bullshit about writing a letter to their future selves or something.” She offers, and the fact that David actually considers it for a second proves to her that he’s feeling worse than he lets on. Ultimately, though, he shakes his head.

“No, it wouldn’t be fair to leave you to run camp by yourself. Besides, we’re supposed to be doing plant identification today, and I can’t deprive the kids of a valuable skill like that just because I’m a little poorly. I’ll be fine.” He says, decisively, like he’s trying to convince himself as much as Gwen.

Before she can argue the point further, the sound of the kids talking escalates to a volume that’s too much to tolerate as they get restless, dessert finished and their boredom rising. Standing, she shouts over the racket, “Everyone look at me! Shut up for a minute, would you?”. It takes a moment, but they do quieten and look in her direction, so she takes the win. “In a moment we’re going to head outside for our afternoon activity, okay, so everyone go and put your plates on the hatch for Quartermaster and then line up at the door.”

Predictably, there is no neat, single-file line like Gwen had asked, and instead a crowd of pushing and shoving by the mess hall doors. Shaking her head, Gwen lets them out, allowing David to start explaining what they’d be doing. In all honesty, Gwen tunes this part out, knowing vaguely that each group would have a plant identification book and a list of plants to find. Instead, she uses this time to study David, who’s energy seems to be waning quicker now that he’s on his feet. Max is giving David some kind of shit, and his plastered-on smile is faltering ever so slightly, the longer Max refuses to stop.

Sighing, she shoots Max a look and he backs off, for now, but he doesn’t seem very deterred. David finishes up his explanation and sends the kids off in groups of four, instructing them not to go out of his and Gwen’s sight. A few moments pass in silence as they observe the kids, enjoying the peace for the first time that day. Around them, the kids seem to be genuinely enjoying themselves - the task gives them just enough freedom that they’re satisfied, goofing off as they look at plants half-heartedly and enjoy the sun, with the added bonus of letting Gwen and David take a backseat for a little while.

The kids have quite a long time to find all of the plants on the list; they know their campers well enough to know that the work-to-messing-around ratio will not be equal, so Gwen takes a seat on one of the nearby picnic benches. She expects David to follow her lead and sit down too, and she hopes he does because he wasn’t looking too hot during his instructions earlier, but he remains standing. The feeling in her gut grows stronger, but she forces it down. She’s getting worked up over nothing, David said it himself, he’s just a little under the weather. David is a grown man; if he feels like he needs to sit down, he’ll sit down.

Another fifteen minutes pass and the feeling only grows. She glances at her co-councillor again, but she can’t see his face from the angle of the bench. Before she can think better of it she’s standing and walking over to him, placing a hand on his shoulder with the intention of turning him towards her. However, the moment her hand touches his shoulder, her stomach drops. He’s so warm she can feel it through his shirt and, although they are standing in the warmth of the sun, that’s all they’re doing, there’s no reason he should be that warm. It’s a suffocating, dry kind of warmth too, one that makes her throat tighten and she steps round him, blocking the camper’s view if they were to look over.

His eyes are cloudy and slightly unfocused, and he’s paler than he has been all day, swaying just slightly where he stands. His breathing is slightly wonky, like he can’t quite figure out a comfortable pattern and it takes him a while to track his gaze over to meet hers, and he shakes his head minutely, almost imperceptibly. Abruptly, she makes a decision.

Whirling around to face the section of clearing that the campers are exploring, she raises her voice loud enough for all of them to hear. “Okay, David and I need to head inside to take care of some paperwork, so Quartermaster is going to take over for a little while. Do not give him any shit or I swear to god there will be hell to pay, understood?” She asks, waiting for nods before she’s satisfied. She turns back to face David, unsure if moving is a good idea right now given how pale he is. “Can you make it to our cabin?” She asks, quietly.

Something in David seems to click, and he tries to gather himself, swallowing hard. “Sorry, Gwen, I’m fine. There’s no need to worry, or- or bother the Quartermaster, I’m-”

“David I swear do not even try it. You look like you’re about the pass out.” She hisses, reaching her limit. “Now can you make it to our cabin or not?”

Chastised, David looks down, but nods anyway. “Yeah, I can.”

“Okay,” Gwen takes a deep breath, nodding as well. “I need you to stay here with the kids while I go and grab Quartermaster, can you do that?”

David nods again, but doesn’t protest when she leads him to the bench and sits him down. “Do not move.” She says sternly, then turns on her heel and rushes back to the mess hall, grabbing Quartermaster and dragging him out to the clearing, explaining on the way. He agrees in the weird, creepy way of his, and she has no doubt the campers will end up part of some crazy wilderness ritual, but she trusts him with the campers safety and that's enough for now.

As they arrive at the activity spot, it’s just in time to see Max sauntering over to David, a glint in his eye that she doesn’t like. “Max!” She calls, intercepting him only a few feet away from the bench. “What do you need?”

Max regards her curiously, and she feels vaguely like prey. “What I need is to talk to David.” He says, and Gwen knows deep down that he has realised what’s going on.

She has two options now: lie and bullshit her way out of this, or tell the truth and hope Max doesn’t abuse the knowledge.

Placing her hands on both of Max’s shoulders, she drops down to one knee, putting her at his level. “Look, Max, you and I both know why you can’t do that.” Max’s face lights up at the confirmation, and he opens his mouth to say something, but Gwen continues on, barrelling over him. “Max, listen to me, I need to get David inside, okay, I think this could be serious. I need to get him inside, and check his fever and maybe even take him to a hospital,” She says, looking into his eyes to try and drive her point home. She really isn’t sure if it will warrant a hospital trip, or even come close, but she thinks maybe that’s what Max needs to hear to back off a bit. “If I check him over, and he’s okay, I promise you that tomorrow you can have your fun with him, but you have to let me make sure he’s good first, okay?”

Max is silent for a second, eyes darting from Gwen to where David is slumped over, face in his hands now that Quartermaster is here and someone is keeping an eye on the campers. There is a solid ten seconds where Gwen thinks she’s made the wrong choice, that Max is going to grin and jump on the opportunity to trash the camp and make today even worse for David, but then he deflates and nods. “Fine. I’ll keep these assholes in check. But as soon as he’s feeling better there will be no mercy. So watch out.” He says, but Gwen has known Max long enough to know he’s concerned. Another beat of silence passes and then Max follows up quietly, “Do you…need help getting him inside?”.

A spark of surprise hits Gwen’s chest, alongside a feeling she thinks might be pride. She ruffles Max’s hair and he scowls, swatting at her hands before shoving his own hands back into his sweater pockets.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got him handled. You focus on finding those plants, okay?” She smiles at him, and Max pulls a face in return.

“Ew, gross. I wasn’t worried.” He insists, and Gwen doesn’t argue it, just lets him walk back to his group.

Gwen forces herself to take some more deep breaths before she turns around, trying not to let her heart beat too fast when she finds David, arms braced on his knees and his head in his hands, eyes closed and breathing shakily.

“David?” She asks softly, touching his shoulder.

He lifts his head, blinking blearily at her, squinting in the sunlight. He doesn’t say anything.

“You ready to get inside?”

He nods shakily, standing up and immediately stumbling, but Gwen catches him quickly enough. Luckily, Quartermaster seems to have distracted the kids with some kind of dramatic retelling of a battle he had with some squirrels, and Gwen can’t quite tell if it’s made up or not, but it doesn’t matter because it means they don’t have an audience right now. (Except Max, and Gwen can feel his worried eyes tracking them, but she’ll have to deal with that later, because right now David needs to be inside and lying down, out of the heat of the sun and away from the stress of the children.)

She loops his arm around her shoulders, hooking her own around his waist and they begin to slowly walk - or stumble, in David’s case - back to the councillor’s cabin. What should have been a two minute journey becomes a five minute one, and the whole way Gwen can only think about how it got so bad so quickly. David is silent for the entirety of it, eyes closed and trusting Gwen to keep them on track. They’re barely ten feet from the door to the cabin when David finally speaks.

“Gwen, I think I’m going to pass out.” He chokes out, and she turns to find his face so pale he’s practically grey.

“Shit!” She hisses, and she effectively drags him the rest of the way shoving the doors open, desperate to get him to his bed but he’s dropping like a stone the moment they’re inside, and it’s all she can do to stop his head from slamming down. His knees connect roughly with the wooden floors and she winces, knowing it’ll probably bruise, but there’s bigger things to worry about at that moment.

Carefully, she lowers him to the ground and props his feet up on a nearby trunk, racking her brain desperately trying to recall her first aid training. She settles on checking his airways and, once satisfied, moves to the bathroom to grab their thermometer. It’s clear enough that he has a fever, but she needs to know what she’s dealing with and now is as good a time as any to check.

The thermometer is an old thing, scuffed and peeling but it works and so she gently pushes it into his ear, waiting for it to beep. 103.1ºF. She sucks in a breath through her teeth. Not good.

Wasting no time, she gathers a washcloth and wets it with cold water, filling a glass at the same time. There’s a standing fan in the corner of their cabin which she manoeuvres to point at David and turns onto the lowest setting, trying not to shock his body too much, then places the washcloth on his forehead.

Slowly, David stirs, eyes blinking open, cloudy and confused but he’s awake and a huge weight lifts off of her shoulders.

“David?”

“...Gwen? What- why am I on the floor?”

A flash of irritation hits her. “Because you’re an asshole who can’t wait two seconds to lay down in his bed and insists instead on passing out on the floor next to it.” She scowls, but the irritation is ebbing just quickly as it peaked, being replaced by concern.

“I passed out?” He asked, voice still slightly muddy from sleep.

“Yeah,” She sighs. “You did. And your fever is really high, as well. You scared me.” She admits, quietly.

David’s face crumples with guilt, and he tries to sit up but Gwen firmly pushes him back down. “Gwen, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

“I know you didn’t David,” Gwen placates. “It’s not your fault, it's just a sucky situation. You should have said something sooner, though, David. You could have taken a break, or even taken the rest of the day off and we could’ve avoided all of this. I’d rather have to handle those kids by myself any day of the week than for you to get hurt.”

David nods, wincing. “I know. You’re right, I should have said something I just - I just have some things to work on.” He replies, quiet and raw. “But that shouldn’t affect you, I’m sorry.”

They look at each other for a moment longer before Gwen smiles, softly. “Hey, what are CBFLs for?” She asks, nudging his shoulder, and David smiles back, touched. “And besides,” she continues. “You deal with enough of my shit, only fair I deal with some of yours. Now, think you can handle getting up and into bed? You need proper rest and I’m not letting you do it on the floor.”

“Yeah, I’m actually feeling a bit better now.” David says.

Gwen snorts, holding out a hand to help him up. “Tell me that again when you’re upright.”

As expected, David immediately pales again the moment he’s stood, but he smiles shakily and manages to get to his bed fine, so Gwen doesn’t worry too much. Once he’s sitting with his back against his pillows, she hands him the glass of water and grabs some pills from her own bedside table. Dutifully, he downs them, and then lays down, damp cloth back on his forehead. It’s mid-afternoon and still light out, but Gwen just draws the curtains and turns off the light, leaving the bathroom light on with the door cracked to allow her to see without aggravating David’s head too much.

Gwen pulls her armchair over to be near David’s bed, turning on Bob Ross with the volume almost muted, just loud enough for the man’s soothing voice to reach them. Beside her, David’s eyes are closed and his eyebrows pinched, but there’s a small smile on his face and he looks comfortable enough. For the first time all day, the feeling in her gut subsides, appeased, and she lets herself relax as well.

Two hours later, Gwen jolts awake, eyes flying around the room before settling on David, still fast asleep where she’d left him. Bob Ross is still playing idly, and she grabs the remote to turn it off. As quietly as she can, Gwen finds the thermometer and takes David’s temperature again, breathing out slowly when it reads 100.5ºF. Still a fever, but lower. Despite herself, she runs her hand through David’s bedhead of red hair, shaking her head and then sitting back down.

She has just settled back in her chair when there’s a quiet knock at the door. Opening it reveals Max, shuffling awkwardly. “He’s okay.” Gwen smiles softly, deciding to cut the kid some slack, knowing Max isn’t going to outright ask about David.

“Pshh, I don’t care. I just came to tell you Quartermaster is doing a shit job. He taught us how to fight a deer and now he’s making us wash the outside of our cabins.” He complains, but Gwen can see a bit of relief on his face.

“Hm, not a bad idea. Maybe I need to get him to plan a couple of our activities next week. The cabin thing, not the deer thing.” She clarifies, seeing Max’s face. “Maybe tomorrow you can complain to David yourself.”

Max nods, satisfied with the knowledge that David isn’t too ill, and Gwen knew that was what he’d been waiting to hear. “Yeah, I will. Uh, but I should get back before Quartermaster realises I’m gone. He’s way less of a pushover than you and David.”

Gwen rolls her eyes, but waves him off. “See you tomorrow, Max.”

“Night, Gwen.”

She closes the door, still smiling softly.

Sometimes, the kids were okay.

#camp camp #camp camp fanfic #camp camp david #camp camp gwen #cc david #cc gwen #sickfic

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enjennie · 4 years ago

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Sweeter than Sugar | Na Jaemin

summary: wherein Jaemin goes through hell and back to bake a cake for you on your 3rd anniversary.

genre: fluff / boyfriend au

warnings: none

word count: 1.3k

[3:48 pm]

It looked as if a hurricane had swept over the kitchen as condiments, various baking tools along with spilled ingredients that managed to miss the massive bowl Na Jaemin was baking in cluttered the usually spotless counter that you and your boyfriend obsessively kept at its cleanest. Today, Jaemin couldn’t give a damn about being tidy, as he whisked the eggs vigorously with one hand, and tried to simultaneously sift the flour into a bowl with the other.

“Mom, mom! Please repeat what you said after beating the eggs,” Jaemin called over to his mom, who he’d speed dialed and put on loud speaker once the idea of baking came to him.

“Pour it into the dry ingredients then mix! Ah, why didn’t you get boxed cake mix instead?” His mother nagged. It did cross his mind, but Jaemin didn’t want to take the easy route. He never does. Not for his girlfriend, never. He’d go the extra mile for you.

“Did you preheat the oven?” His mother asked through the phone. Jaemin looked behind him to check. He’d randomly turned the knob when his mom told him to 15 minutes ago. “Yeah? It’s heated,”

“Okay, well after this you can put it into the cake tin then pop it into the oven for up to 30 minutes,” his mother instructed. “You could’ve just bought something special. Girls like that,”

Jaemin couldn’t help but smile. “You know Y/N isn’t like other girls,” He tells his mom. He knew for a fact you’re a sucker for handmade gifts, freshly baked goods and handwritten letters.

“Anyway, mom. Thanks for the help, I’ll send you a photo once I finish,” he reaches for his phone to end the call.

“Alright, goodluck! I love you!”

With that, Jaemin gets to work on his own. He places the cake into the oven and starts coloring the icing he had prepared to decorate the cake with. Originally, you both had agreed to spend the whole day together as a celebration. But, due to your busy schedule and requirements that seemed to have chosen this day specifically, you’d apologized to Jaemin and promised a date night instead. A date night was all you prepared yourself for, but Na Jaemin had some tricks up his sleeve.

He quickly shot you a text, asking how you were. This wasn’t unusual, as he regularly liked to check up on you and asked if you needed anything. So, you replied without any suspicion.

@ the campus library, getting some articles for our thesis

Sigh. I’m sorry, honey. Will make it up to you l8r! xo

Jaemin chuckled, finding it cute how guilty you were even if he didn’t mind. He always wanted you to focus on your studies.

[Aug 2019]

“I can wait, your future won’t so focus on it for now,” Jaemin caressed your cheek lightly, brushing the hair out of your face and watching as the sunset hues reflected in your eyes as you both stood by the terrace of your shared apartment, watching the sun die down.

“You’re my future,” you mutter stubbornly to him. You watch as the corners of his mouth stretch into the gorgeous smile you’ve fallen in love with.

“I’m serious, Y/N. Do well or I’ll have to tickle you,” Jaemin poked at your side and you jolt as a reaction. A laugh escaped his pretty lips as he pulls you in closer and began to tickle you everywhere. “Na Jaemin!” You screamed his name, trying to free yourself from his hold but the man was strong with the softest touch, making him seem like a buff teddy bear. Or a bubble wrap for that matter.

Jaemin turned you to face him, pressing his head against yours.

“Put yourself first, and I swear I’ll always be right beside you,”

And that’s how it’s always been between you and him. You focusing on your studies, knowing you had a supportive boyfriend to go home to who’d recharge you and understand your struggles. Someone who’d wipe your tears away, motivate you and refill your coffee mug at 3 in the morning when the 5000 worded essay just wouldn’t write itself.

Nothing was sweeter than Jaemin, not even the most decedent of cakes, or the most sugary cupcake.

[4:21 pm]

Ding!

The oven had sounded, letting the boy know the cake was done. He rushes to see and to his delight, it looked normal. He pulls it out with oven mitts and places it on the counter to cool.

Jaemin popped a candy into his mouth, getting excited as things were turning out perfectly.

[6:08 pm]

“Jaemin?” You called into the dark hallway of your apartment as you come in through the front door. The house was usually lit when you came home at this hour, so you wondered if maybe Jaemin had fallen asleep, or left to go somewhere. So, you walk in and switch the lights on yourself to reveal an empty house.

At the end of the hall where you stood, you noticed a little card stuck to the entrance which led to the living room. You flip it open and it read, ‘Welcome home! Meet me at the terrace?’ A smile instantly shows up in your face as you excitedly pocket the card. Of course it wouldn’t just be an ordinary date night, you’re dating Na Jaemin. You’d be a fool to expect anything less.

You make a quick stop to your shared bedroom, throw your bag to the floor and quickly pick something to wear. The pink dress you’d reserved for special occasions catches your eye and you take it off the rack, knowing your boyfriend was a sucker for the color.

After a little while, you finally make your way to the terrace, which he’d drawn the curtain over so you wouldn’t see. You push it out of the way, and find a panicked Na Jaemin huddled over a cake with its candles nearly touching the surface of the cake, almost ruining the design.

“Quickly, quickly!” he calls for you and lifts the cake. Without even being able to register and appreciate the perfectly set up dinner, or the sunset that stretched in the horizon, you ran to Jaemin, which was always the most beautiful in your eyes anyway. “On three, make a wish and blow,” he lifts the cake between you two and smiles.

With closed eyes, you sent your wishes to the sky and blew. You didn’t even notice he had kept his eyes open, and let you do it alone, with nothing but a smile on his face. Once you opened your eyes once again, you see the writings on the cake.

Always beside you.

Jaemin sets the cake aside and wraps his arms around you. “What took you so long? The candles almost burnt out,”

“Sorry,” you couldn’t help but laugh. “I wanted to look good for you at least,”

He chuckles, “You’re something else, Y/N,”

“Hmm, what am I then?”

“Everything I’ve ever asked for and more,”

Jaemin didn’t waste a second more, and pressed his lips against yours, as each second that passed without your lips on his was a second wasted. He tasted sweet, both in a non literal and literal sense. Your boyfriend loved sweets, after all. Each kiss was enough to give you a sugar rush.

As you both pulled away from the exhilarating kiss, you found yourself licking your lips, craving for the sweet taste he’d left.

“Happy anniversary,” he gives you another peck. Your eyes land on the table he’d set up for the two of you and the sight almost brought you to tears. The sun had died down while you were busy with each other, which left you under the dim lighting that the string lights Jaemin had hung up provided. You realize it looked extremely similar to your first date. Like Jaemin had tried to replicate the one at the restaurant he’d taken you to, three years ago. “You didn’t-,” your voice came out unstable as you were getting emotional and extremely nostalgic.

He grinned and pulls a seat out for you, “C’mon, the roasted chicken is getting cold,”

“Na Jaemin, I’m gonna marry you one day,” you walk over to him and pinched his cheeks before sitting.

You hear him chuckle, and nothing in your life could have ever prepared you for the next thing Jaemin does.

“Why not now?” He asked, getting down on one knee and opening up a red box, revealing the prettiest ring you’ve ever laid your eyes on.

#this is for my friend kim #nct jaemin #jaemin na #jaemin fluff #jaemin oneshot #nct dream #nct dream scenarios #jaemin scenarios #nct u #nct scenarios #nct imagines #nct dream fluff #jaemin x reader #nct fluff #nct dream fic

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effinsusie · 3 years ago

Text

Day 7: Purple

CLASS ACT ch 2 on A03

Summary: School’s finally out. Rated T+

Their tangled bodies fell together in a heap of sweaty exhaustion, clinging on as the world around them slowly fell back into place. Kagome's head finally stopped swimming, but she was still catching her breath, and the heavy rise and fall of his scalding chest beneath her cheek told her he was as well.

When the last stars sparkled from her vision; the fingers buried in thick, wild strands gave a gentle tug that forced her to look up.

"Look at you," she croaked, nuzzling deeper in his embrace, "So smug. It just slipped."

"So much for your restraint."

Those long, talented fingers lazily worked through the knots he'd put there. His own hair was no better, and she braved the arrogance she spent the last two hours feeding just to take another glimpse of the rare, disorderly sight.

Too rare, she sighed. At least lately.

She rolled on top of him to put her face in his own; the challenge in her eyes caused his eyebrow to lift.

Soft lips drifted to his ear. "Bet you can't make me say it again," she whispered before heatedly kissing the abused flesh, sucking on his lobe.

Warm hands smoothed over her backside, squeezing roughly when she rotated her hips. He rocked into the friction that stirred his arousal once again, releasing a guttural groan when skillful lips moved down his neck.

"Hn, I have worked too long around children to not identify such a childish ploy, Miss Higurashi."

Lean legs parted, pinning him between her knees and she rested her forehead heavily atop his own. Blue eyes looked innocently into his, batting dark lashes against his heavy lids.

"Does that mean you are going to discipline me, Principal Taisho?" she taunted, squirming into him again.

She let out a delightful shriek when he made firm contact with her ass, which became a pleasured gasp as he soothed the erotic sting with the offending palm. She threw her head back, encouraging the attention as he feasted on her throat to a chorus of breathy moans and sighs.

When she tried to rise up on her knees, a swift maneuver toppled her, so she was trapped half-way beneath him.

"You are in for a long night," he promised lowly. "I will ensure you are hydrated."

As he tried to pry himself off, she clung to him in protest. He returned for a kiss.

"I will not have you passing out from exhaustion before I am through with you."

Another slap reddened her other cheek, and she finally let him rise, rolling onto her back with a satiated smile.

Scooting to sit against her headboard, Kagome watched on fondly as he took a couple of tall glasses into the bathroom and busied himself at the sink. His chiseled body was covered with bitemarks and bruises, and she admired her handiwork in the various shades of purple littering his long, pale form.

"I meant it, you know."

He looked up from the glass he was filling, lips quirked. "I know."

The smile they shared relayed much more than the lust they'd spent the better part of the evening celebrating. But the circumstances of their relationship forced too much to go unsaid as it was.

"I've really missed you this week."

The hint of sadness in her voice reflected in his gaze, making her feel guilty.

"I will endeavor to make the next more accommodating, lest we find ourselves both seeking employment."

He was only half-joking, but it was clear that ignoring their desires at work was impossible if they couldn't find at least some time together during the week.

She hated those rules, but she loved this job. And she had only just started there. She didn't know if his tenor made the situation better for him, or worse.

"Maybe me, but they won't fire you."

"I am your superior," he said, and shut off the sink. "I am held to a higher standard."

"Don't think that's not how I'll plead my case if we get caught, either." She grinned cheekily as he walked back in the room, a full glass of water in each hand.

"Don't think I will not support those claims."

She was only kidding, but Kagome truly believed she was the only one in danger of getting put up on the chopping block if their colleagues found out about them. At the very least, his job would be spared.

His reputation, on the other hand...

Not that hers would be any better, but that was the more likely consequence of their torrid little affair.

At least, she had to believe it was. She didn't know if she could carry on like this if she thought their actions might ruin him. Speaking of which...

"I meant to ask; did you get ahold of Kagura?"

He rounded the bed carefully with his cargo, looking too stoic not to be uncomfortable with the topic.

He'd pointedly avoided discussing her, though she suspected it was for as his benefit just as much as hers. But enough time had passed, and she didn't want to avoid anything when it came to him.

She'd proven that just thirty minutes ago.

"Unfortunately, I missed her at pick up this afternoon- despite the messages I left."

He handed her a glass and took a seat on the edge of the bed while she greedily gulped it down.

"I called three times, and she has yet to respond," he said, and paused halfway to bringing the water to his lips. "Though considering how we left things, it is not entirely unexpected."

Seeing how much this daunted him, she felt guilty for troubling him with it. But she knew he would have wanted her to.

She began rubbing his back supportively.

"I hope she does, for Rin's sake. You're her daughter's principal; she can't avoid you forever."

He sighed, placing his empty glass next to hers. "You are right, of course, but the wounds are still fresh." At her insistence, he stretched out beside her on the bed, pulling her close as she happily nuzzled into the embrace.

"Regardless, if need be, I shall pay her a visit. Though I hope it does not come to that."

"Me too." She smiled deviously, sliding her body over his. "But I have to say; it's really sexy how you go above and beyond for your students."

Mischief returned to his eyes, staring back at her through sodden, silver bangs. She gyrated, hands smoothing over the planes of his broad chest as he arrested her arms in his grip.

"Let us not forget all I do for the teachers," he rumbled, craning forward.

Before their lips met, she pushed him back.

"I hope I'm the only one getting such special attention."

"Of course," he said, and leaned towards her again. This time, he landed a kiss.

When she pulled away after only a quick moment, he was not discouraged, affirming his hold and busying himself at the hollow of her throat.

"Hm, I don't know," she grinned. "I see you talking to Kaede an awful lot in the lounge..."

A muffled noise vibrated against her, making the hands at his shoulders clutch tightly.

"Merely a decoy," he removed his lips long enough to say, "to divert from the tawdry affair I am having with the pretty, young new hire."

She giggled as he returned to kissing her neck, but they became breathier as he grew more assertive.

"So scandalous," she gasped. "I'm starting to think you didn't hire me on account of my exemplary credentials."

"Of course, I did," he said, dragging his mouth over salty, heated skin. "Though I must admit, that was not the reason I insisted on taking you to lunch on your first day."

She feigned incredulity, forcing him onto his back.

"You mean, you don't take all the new teachers to the nicest restaurant in town to welcome them aboard?"

"No." He kissed her again. "Nor do I invite them to my personal residence for celebratory drinks, offer to help them move into their new apartment or... any of the numerous events that took place afterward."

She rested her full weight atop him, batting innocent blue eyes in his face once again.

"Except Kaede," she asserted.

She shrieked when he flipped them effortlessly, a mixture of giggles and screams as he pinned her beneath his body and let her punishment finally commence.

They continued long into the night, along with a myriad of other noises that made him glad he got her hydrated.

TBC

***

A/N: That's SessKag Week! I wish I could have given you guys (and myself) closure on all these stories, but I'm actually pretty syked I managed to post everyday. I couldn't quite make it last year, and I did not think I'd have more than 3 days to contribute when the week began. I was literally writing until the moment I posted on these, so it was pretty exciting! I learned a lot about what I can get done if I really push, and don't worry about perfection (or whatever my version of that is lol) So, I have this story and Greener Pastures to finish, along with another installment to Transparent (Opaque). Which would you like to see first? I'll see what i can do.

And for those of you screaming WTF? FINISH RENDEZVOUS ALREADY! or UPDATE VICE; don't worry! I did not abandon them. I was just trying to get through this week, and then I swear I will get back to those. Sometimes space from a story makes it better, and i think you're gonna be glad i let it settle.

Thanks for reading! I have a ton to catch up on.

Oh yeah, and Feudal Connection is having their Inuyasha awards rn on Tumblr. So you can go vote for the fics and art you like for a bit longer.

#skw2021 #sesskag #inuyasha #sesskag fanfic #skw2021d7

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caffeinatedbraincell · 4 years ago

Note

Thank you so much for the wonderfully sweet andromaquynh story! 🥰💖 if I may request more since I saw the Touch sheet and uh I’m in love:

24. Whispering in their ear, lips touching their skin, either pairing

Thank you for this ask Shatters!!! And for encouraging me along the way<3 I know it took forever but I hope you enjoy this!

Read on AO3

The door of Dr. Shukla’s office rattled. Inside, Joe took a sharp breath. Nicky threaded their hands together beneath the table, murmuring reassuringly.

A second later, the doctor walked in, large yellow folder in hand and a stethoscope slung across her neck. Joe and Nicky stood to greet her.

“Please, be seated. It’s alright,” she said, voice low and steady. “I’m Dr. Shukla, a neurologist. I have some CTs and MRIs here of Mr. Yusuf Al-Kaysani’s brain that we’ll be discussing today.”

Joe exhaled shakily as they all sat down. Next to him, Nicky cleared his throat.

“How bad is it, doctor?”

“Good and bad aren’t diagnoses, Mr.…”

“Al-Kaysani. I’m his husband. But call me Nicky, please.”

“Of course, Nicky.” She extracted the prints from the folder. “There is no easy way to put this. The truth is, the symptoms Yusuf is presenting with, and these images from his scans, make it very likely that what we’re dealing with here is early-onset dementia. Possibly Alzheimer’s.”

In the silence that followed, Joe sighed in relief. Finally, someone had said the words. It wasn’t a vague suspicion hanging over his head anymore. It was reality. They could work with reality.

Next to him, Nicky was arguing with the doctor.

“…but how can you be sure? Scans are inconclusive when it comes to diagnosing-”

“I would not have brought this diagnosis to the table if there was any better explanation for what Yusuf is experiencing. Any at all.”

“But-”

“Nicolò.” Joe moved his hand to Nicky’s thigh. He looked at the doctor. “So where do we go from here?”

Dr. Shukla leaned forward, resting her forearms on the table. “I will not mislead you, Yusuf. There is no cure. But there are treatments - therapies, medications, management strategies - that can slow the progression of the disease. You can still live a long and meaningful life.”

“Of course he’ll live a long and meaningful life!” Nicky exclaimed.

“Tesoro, please-”

“Look,” Dr. Shukla said. “I know this is extremely hard. For both of you. But what’s important in this moment is that you take your time to process this news and adapt to it. Be there for each other, and be patient with each other.” She stood and walked over to her computer. “I’m going to put in a prescription for something called Razelon; it’s a cholinesterase inhibitor that will reduce early behavioral symptoms and boost cognitive function.”

“Do we need to pick it up today?” Nicky asked.

“Yes. Yusuf, I’m starting you off on half a pill. We’ll see how you react to it. If it works for you, we can modify the dose as necessary going forward.”

As they stepped out of the clinic into the stinging wind, Joe pulled his coat tighter against his body. At his side, Nicky fumbled with his phone, pulling up the prescription.

“Razelon,” he muttered to himself, typing it into Google. “Look, Joe, it seems to be a fairly common and effective treatment. Actually, it’s good the doctors caught this early. I’m sure we can-”

“Nicky.”

“-make this work until something more effective comes out. Alzheimer’s research is at a revolutionary place right now and-”

“Nicky…”

“-there’s definitely going to be some new, highly effective treatments on the market in a few-”

“Nicolò!”

Nicky froze where he was reaching for his car keys, lips pressed into a thin line. “What?”

“My love, we’ve had over one thousand years together.” Joe stepped forward, gently taking his hands. “Haven’t you had enough of me yet?”

Nicky shoved him away lightly. “Stop it, Joe. That’s nothing to joke about.”

“Listen-”

“No, you listen. I don’t care if it’s been a millennium. If you don’t think I’m going to fight tooth and nail for every second - every single second - we can possibly have together, then you’re wrong. You’re wrong.”

“I will fight with you, my love, I swear. But-”

“But what?”

“But I cannot watch you mourn me while I am still here. Promise me this changes nothing between us, Nicky. I don’t want you to treat me like I’m suddenly made of glass.”

“Says the person who tried to wrap me in literal bubble wrap when we discovered we were mortal.”

Joe snorted. “Touché.”

Nicky stared at him for a second. Then, he leaned forward and kissed him, slow and sweet. “Get in the car. I’ll buy you a caramel frappucino by the pharmacy, yeah?”

***

“Joe, don’t forget, Nile’s coming over at 8 tonight for dinner, so we’ll have to be back at least an hour before that.”

“I don’t know, tesoro, forgetting is kind of what I do best now,” Joe quipped from the couch.

Nicky stuck his head out of the kitchen testily. “Still not funny, you asshole.”

It has been several months since that fateful day at the clinic, and Joe could tell he was getting worse. He didn’t feel it, exactly; the Razelon was helping, and Dr. Shukla had added an antidepressant to his prescription to ward off the vague sense of dread and loss that sometimes settled in his chest.

No, Joe could tell he was getting worse because of Nicky. The way Nicky never let him make the same mistake twice. Joe had forgotten to take his medication one night, and ever since, Nicky made a ritual of bringing it to him with a glass of water after they brushed their teeth. A few mornings ago, Nicky had seen Joe walk away from the coffee machine without turning it on, and ever since, there would be a freshly brewed pot of coffee on the table before Joe woke up.

It was as if by covering for Joe enough, Nicky could pretend this wasn’t happening at all. Joe frowned deeply at the thought.

“Hey,” Nicky said, coming to sit next to Joe. “What’s wrong, hayati? Would you rather stay in today than go to the beach? I won’t mind, you know.”

Joe shook his head. “No, it’s not that, it’s…” He furrowed his brow, then sighed in defeat. “Nevermind. Let’s just go to… the place. What you said.”

“The beach?”

“Mhm. Let’s go to the beach.”

“Alright. I’ll get us a bag.” Nicky kissed Joe’s forehead gently and got up to leave.

“Nicky, wait.”

“Yes, love?”

“Is it- Am I getting a lot worse, do you think?” Joe blurted.

Nicky frowned. “Why would you say that?”

“It’s just- You didn’t let me pay rent this month. Usually you remind me, but you did it yourself last week, didn’t you?”

“So what if I did? I don’t want to make things any harder for you than they already are. Let me be there for you in these little ways, ya qalbi.”

“You are. You’re always there for me. But you’re doing so much now, too much, and I feel like I’m not pulling my weight anymore. I don’t want to become a- a…”

“A burden?”

Joe was already shaking his head, having clocked the disappointment in Nicky’s eyes. “No! No, Nicky, that’s not what I-”

“Joe. I think we should move back to Malta.”

Joe paused, a little taken aback. “Back to Malta? Like, for good?”

“For good.”

“We’ll be far away from Nile and Booker, though.”

“They can come visit whenever they want. They’re still immortal, Joe. We’re not. I want to spend the time we have left in the place I married you one thousand years ago.”

Joe stood up and looped his arms around Nicky’s neck. He grinned as Nicky’s arms circled his waist, pulling him closer. “And you say I’m an incurable romantic.”

Nicky laughed. “So you’re okay with that, then?” he asked, hopeful eyes searching Joe’s.

“More than okay. I can’t wait, amore.”

***

Dinner with Nile was a lovely time, as always.

“How is Booker doing, sorellina?” Nicky asked as he dished second helpings of lasagne onto everyone’s plates.

“Fine,” Nile said with her mouth full. “His therapy group is taking a field trip to the Met tonight, so he couldn’t come. But he said to bring him back some food.”

Joe laughed, turning to Nicky with delight. “Sir, be sure to pack this young lady your restaurant’s finest lasagne, to-go.”

Nicky rolled his eyes. “If Booker wants food, he can come get some himself,” he grumbled, nevertheless grabbing a clean tupperware from the counter. “It’s been ages since he’s shown his face around here.”

“He wants to come all the time, I promise,” Nile reassured him. “It’s just so busy now, between jobs and therapy-”

“I keep telling Nicky we can still work the jobs,” Joe cut in. “Just because we’re mortal doesn’t mean we can’t help with intel and stuff. Or Nicky can, at least.”

“And I keep telling you it’s not necessary,” Nile countered, gentle but firm. “It’s important that you two spend this time with each other. And anyway, Booker and I are managing just fine.”

“It can’t be easy, though.” Nicky popped open a bottle of wine. “Do you mind non-alcoholic, Nile? If so, I can pull up another-”

“No, no, non-alcoholic is great. And to tell you the truth, we are taking on less now. Choosing our battles more carefully. But the ones we choose, we’re fighting them better, I think.”

Joe sat back, smiling fondly. “Good. Good. I think we’ve all been prioritizing doing a better job of living. But the offer always stands, Nile. If you two ever need some extra hands, we’re here.”

Over lasagne and wine, the conversation ebbed and flowed late into the night. It was nearly 2AM when Joe stood up, yawning.

“Bed, habibi?” Nicky asked.

“Hmm. I think I’ll call it a night.”

“Let me get you your medicine. Nile, would you mind moving the dishes to the sink? I’ll be back in a minute to wash them.”

Nile stood up, piling the dishes together. Joe and Nicky walked towards the bedroom.

As Joe settled into bed, Nicky puttered around to arrange his pills and a glass of water.

“Nicky, we forgot to tell Nile about the plan. That we’re going to move back to, uh…” Joe’s eyes widened in mild horror as he struggled to remember. “Malta! Malta. We’re moving back to Malta.”

Nicky walked over to him and sat down on the edge of the bed. He lovingly cupped Joe’s face, leaning in to rest their foreheads together.

“I’ll tell her. Here. You take this medicine and rest. I should go-”

“Do you want to see what I drew at the beach?” Joe cut in. He didn’t want Nicky to leave just yet.

“Ya amar, of course I do. Where is your sketchbook, still in the bag? I’ll get it.”

Nicky handed him the book, and Joe flipped through it until he found what he was looking for.

“It would have been better if I had colors, but…”

He held out the book to Nicky, who promptly forgot how to breathe. Done in nothing but ordinary pencil graphite was his own profile, set against the background of a stunning black and white sunset. The fading rays of light gleamed on the ocean’s surface, and the waves looked, magically, like they could move.

“Do you like it?” Joe asked. Nicky realized he’d been staring in silence. He set the book on the nightstand and wrapped a hand behind Joe’s head, pulling him in for a kiss.

“I love it,” he said, kissing him again. “I love you. It’s beautiful. Everything you make is beautiful, but this one especially so. And you’re beautiful.”

Joe giggled beneath the onslaught of kisses and praise. “You’re a sap. Now go, Nile is waiting for you.”

“Alright, alright. I’m going.”

“Nicky?”

“Hmm?”

“Come back soon.”

Nicky grinned. “It’s almost 3AM. I won’t be long; Nile is probably exhausted, too.”

“Tell her to stay the night,” Joe mumbled, already half asleep. “Too late to drive.”

“I’ll tell her, love. Sleep well.”

“Tell me what?” Nile asked as Nicky returned to the living room.

“To stay the night, it’s late.” He looked towards the kitchen. “Where are the dishes?”

“I washed them, they’re on the drying rack.”

“Sorellina! You are a guest!”

“I’m family. I can help with the dishes,” Nile argued, rolling her eyes.

Nicky smiled, settling down next to her on the couch. Nile shifted, curling up close to his side and resting her head on his shoulder.

“How are you doing?” she asked after a beat.

“Fine, Joe’s been-”

“I said you, Nicky.”

Nicky hesitated. “I’m alright, I think. Life is not harder now, not really. It’s nice to spend our days enjoying each other’s company, without having to worry about jobs and stuff. But…”

“But?”

“I can’t shake this sense of… loss? Our every interaction is tinged with it. He is the one diagnosed, but sometimes it feels like I’m the one who’s losing my sense of reality. I feel untethered.” Nicky broke off with a dry chuckle. “He gets upset if I’m too sad around him, so I try not to show it.”

“Oh.”

“Is it terribly greedy of me, Nile?”

“What?”

“That we’ve had over a thousand years together, more than anyone else in human history, and all I can think of is that it’s not enough. That I’m not ready. That I want more.”

“Love always wants more, Nicky. And no one is ever ready, no matter how much or how little time we have. Like, Andy and Quynh, right? You knew them for centuries, I knew them for a few years. But neither of us were ready to lose them.”

“I can’t do that again, Nile,” Nicky said wearily, feeling the full weight of his years. “I can’t mourn anyone else. I can’t mourn Joe.”

“You already are.”

Nicky’s eyes snapped to hers. “Wha- what do you mean by that? He said something like that, too.”

“You’re mourning the parts of him he’s already forgotten. You’re mourning the Joe who remembered his sisters’ names. The Joe who could differentiate San Paolo ‘34 from Berlin ‘27. The Joe who-”

“Stop.” Nicky squeezed his eyes shut. “He’s still here. My Joe is still here.”

“That’s exactly my point,” Nile said. “Think about the Joe you fell in love with outside of Jerusalem, Nicky. Now think of Joe sleeping inside. Everything has changed, but you still love him. What was it you fell in love with, the one thing that’s remained constant? His body? His mind?”

“His soul.”

“And can Alzheimer’s touch that? Can death?”

Nicky sniffled. He kissed the top of Nile’s head. “You’re far too wise for your age, you know.”

“I’ve had practice,” she mumbled.

“Yeah. Let’s get you to bed, alright? Will you stay the night?”

“Mhm.”

“Good.”

Nile ended up finding out about Malta the next morning, when Joe mentioned moving plans to Nicky over breakfast.

“You didn’t tell her last night, tesoro?”

“I meant to. But I guess we were all really tired.”

“I think it’s a great idea. When are you two planning to move?” Nile asked.

“As soon as possible. Joe and I were looking at flights for this weekend.”

Nile nodded. “Booker and I can help you pack. How’s tonight?”

“Fine, if a bit early. We don’t have that much stuff,” Joe said between sips of coffee. “At least not here. There are some things in the safehouses…”

“Sure. You and Nicky make a list whenever you’re free, and I’ll make a few trips with Booker and ship everything to the Malta address.”

“You’re an angel, sorellina,” Nicky said.

In the comfortable silence that followed, Joe looked back and forth between them, trying to memorize this moment. Nicolò di Genova is reading the paper, he thought. Nile Freeman is eating toast. Nile is married to Sebastien Le Livre, whom we call Booker. Booker isn’t here because he was- he had-

“Did Booker send you any pictures from the Met?” Nicky asked Nile.

Ah. He’d gone to the Met with his therapy group.

Nile shook her head. “A few cute ones they took outside, but I think the exhibit they went to see didn’t allow photography. He’ll probably have some brochure pictures to talk our ears off about later, though.” She smiled fondly. “It’s our turn to bring something over for dinner tonight, okay?”

“Absolutely not,” Nicky argued. “I love cooking for you guys. Let me make dinner. You’ll be stuck with your own cooking once we leave for Malta, anyway.”

Nile gasped in mock offense. “Well, someone has an inflated sense of their own abilities.”

“Habibi, listen, she’s disparaging my cooking,” Nicky complained.

“You insulted her first, my love. If you can dish it, you’d better take it.”

Nile laughed at the look of utter betrayal on Nicky’s face as she walked her empty plate to the sink.

“I’m gonna head out,” she said. “I’ll be back with Booker around 7. And fine, looks like dinner’s on you, Nicky.”

“I’m making poisoned mushroom risotto.”

“Suit yourself, I’m not the one who’s mortal.”

“Oh, fuck off,” Nicky muttered around a grin as Nile and Joe high-fived. “See you later, Nile.”

***

Midnights were Nicky’s favorite part of Malta. The sky hung heavy like a black velvet blanket, and the sparkle of the stars reminded him of Joe’s eyes.

In the months since they’d arrived, Joe’s health had taken an undeniable turn for the worse. They’d talked to Dr. Shukla and doubled his dose of Razelon. Soon after, they’d doubled it again. But the disease progressed with a vengeance of lifetimes, as if it was trying to recompense Joe’s immortality by cutting his mortal life short.

Nowadays, Nicky almost never left Joe’s side, from waking him up in the morning, to bathing him, to feeding him, to taking him on long walks to visit their favorite places.

And truly, there was nowhere he’d rather be. But Nicky was wracked with guilt over the terrifying intensity with which he missed Joe. He found himself clinging fervently to Joe’s few and far-between moments of lucidity, dreading the day when Joe would look at him and no longer remember his name.

A tear startled Nicky as it slipped down his cheek. He wiped it away quickly, leaning over the balcony railing and breathing in the sleeping city.

“Nicky?”

Nicky whirled around. “Joe? You’re not asleep?”

“I woke up. I- I missed you.”

“Oh, my love, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you’d wake up. Come on, let’s go back to bed.”

As they settled back under the covers together, Joe reached for Nicky’s hand and squeezed gently.

“What is it, hayati?”

“Nicky, I need to tell you something.”

Nicky turned to face him. “I’m listening.”

“You don’t have to do this.”

There was a tense pause. Then-

“Do you know how much I look forward to this, Joe? These brief minutes when you’re present, fully alert and oriented? Tell me, have I waited for this moment only to hear you say those words?”

“I just- I want you to know that you can leave. This is only going to get worse, Nicky. You didn’t sign up to change my diapers.”

“I didn’t sign up for immortality, either. But I embraced over a thousand years of it, Joe. Because I was in it with you.”

Joe rolled onto his back, staring at the ceiling and blinking back tears.

Nicky groaned, propping himself up on an elbow. “Listen here, you idiot. I know I can leave. I could’ve left when you offered me your hand outside of Jerusalem. I could’ve left when we had our first fight. I could’ve left when we lost Quynh. I could’ve left after WWII, when we became so depressed that we could hardly stand the sight of each other.”

“But you didn’t.”

“Of course I didn’t. I love you, Joe. I don’t ever want to leave you.” He paused. “Unless you want me to.”

“And if I say I do want you to?”

“I’d tell you not to be a martyr.” Nicky sighed in frustration. “What would you do if it were me, Joe? Would you walk away?”

Joe’s breath hitched. He immediately shook his head.

“Why?” Nicky barrelled on. “Because of some twisted sense of morality? Because of some obligation-”

“Because I love you, amore. I would suffer a hundred deaths to spend just one hour more in your arms.”

Nicky slowly lay back down. He cupped Joe’s tear-stained cheek, tenderly guiding their lips together in a warm kiss.

“See? Can we drop this, now?”

Joe nodded. “If you’re sure.”

“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life, ya qalbi.”

They drifted to sleep in each other’s arms, exchanging quiet kisses and hums of contentment. The next morning, Nicky realized he’d made a terrible, terrible mistake.

It was their wedding anniversary. Their original wedding anniversary, the approximate date they’d gotten married in Malta over a thousand years ago.

Nicky had meant to be absolutely insufferable about it, to go on and on about it from at least three days prior. That way, Joe would remember. He wouldn’t have to deal with the guilt of forgetting, or the reality that his dementia no longer afforded him keeping track of the date.

Instead, Nicky had all but forgotten as well, only to be jarringly reminded by the date flashing on his phone.

He cursed as he fiddled with the coffee machine, analyzing his options. First option, he could simply remind Joe that today was their anniversary. Slip it into casual conversation or something.

But then he imagined Joe’s eyes going wide with shock and sadness as it sunk in that this is where they were at, now. He imagined Joe apologizing profusely for not planning anything special for Nicky. He imagined the guilt that any further attempts to celebrate would be tinged with, and that just wouldn’t do.

Second option, Nicky decided. He would simply not say anything. They’d treat this just like any other day, and what Joe didn’t remember wouldn’t hurt him. Something ugly twisted in Nicky’s gut at the thought that this could be their last anniversary together, but he stubbornly shoved it down. He could do this for Joe.

“Nicky?” Joe’s voice echoed down the hall. Nicky quickly switched on the coffee machine and returned to their bedroom.

“You’re awake already, love. Did you sleep well?”

Joe nodded, looking a little dazed. Slowly, his eyes focused on Nicky. He smiled. “Can we go brush my teeth? I want to kiss you.”

Nicky laughed, coming to sit at the edge of the bed. “How about a kiss first, beautiful?”

Joe’s smile went soft, his gaze drifting languidly to Nicky’s lips. “Okay.”

Nicky reached for Joe’s hand as they kissed, threading their fingers together. Joe made a small noise of happiness, draping his other arm over Nicky’s shoulder and pressing closer.

This is enough, Nicky realized with startling clarity. This is more than enough for celebrating today. If he’s happy, I’m happy.

***

Awareness was strange for Joe, these days. Dr. Shukla had told him that no two people experience Alzheimer’s the same way; it was better to observe what happens than to expect a specific process.

These days, life often felt like working on the corner of a painting, some zoomed-in fragment for his mind to get lost in. He would zone out and zone back in, switching between his immediate reality and some dark, floaty place deep inside his consciousness. Any concept of the “bigger picture” seemed uncannily absent.

It would be terrifying, he knew, if not for Nicky. My husband, Joe thought fondly. That, at least, he had not forgotten yet.

Joe’s body still remembered perfectly well what his mind could no longer articulate. Nicky’s hand in his hand, Nicky’s lips on his lips. The instinctive way he’d reach out for comfort and find Nicky there, calm eyes and steady arms and gentle smile.

“Joe?”

With tremendous effort, Joe pulled himself out of his thoughts, trying to focus on the voice. “Hmm?”

“Hey, it’s okay, don’t strain yourself.” Nicky rested a hand on Joe’s shoulder, and he immediately relaxed. “I’m making pastizzi. You remember pastizzi?”

Joe furrowed his brow. He doubted the word alone would have meant anything to him, but combined with the savory smell wafting from the kitchen, a fuzzy memory clicked into place.

“Favorite.”

Nicky chuckled softly. “That’s right. It’s your favorite.”

“Special. It’s for special days. Is today something special?”

Nicky startled like a deer in headlights. “Uh, wha- Yes! Of course it is.” He leaned down to kiss Joe’s curls. “Every day with you is so, so special, my love. It goes without saying, does it not?”

Joe grinned guilelessly, taking Nicky’s hand and kissing his knuckles. “Is Andromache coming?”

“Andromache is not here, sweetheart.” Nicky wrapped his arms around Joe, swaying gently from side to side. “It’s just us, for now.”

“That sounds nice, too.”

“What do you want to do after breakfast today?”

“Draw. I want to draw you. But can we take a nap first?”

“Of course.” Nicky unwound his arms from Joe and walked into the kitchen. “You got up too early today, habibi. I told you, you should rest more. You’ll be tired all day, otherwise.”

“I only like to sleep with you, tesoro.”

Nicky barked out a laugh. “You don’t need to tell me twice. Here, let’s eat. Then we’ll nap together.”

Joe enjoyed breakfast, taking comfort in the familiar, grounding taste of Nicky’s homemade pastizzi. And he definitely enjoyed falling asleep in his husband’s arms, head pillowed on Nicky’s chest, bathed in the late morning sunlight.

When Joe woke up, it was in one of those increasingly rare and precious moments of clarity. Nicky lay beside him, still fast asleep. Joe stared unabashedly, marveling at how Nicky managed to look even more soft and peaceful than usual in his sleep. He reached for his sketchbook and began drawing.

As the hours passed, portraits turned into poetry, and poetry into letters. Joe wondered, for a moment, if he should wake Nicky up for lunch, but he was loath to disrupt the little rest that Nicky managed to get these days.

Instead, Joe sat quietly by his side, taking advantage of his own lucidity to write a letter to Nile and Booker. He vaguely recalled Nicky mentioning that they would visit at some point, and he wanted to make sure he could convey what he wanted to say to them.

Just as Joe was wrapping up, Nicky stirred beside him.

“Joe?” he said, voice rough with sleep.

“Sono qui.”

Nicky glanced at the bedside clock. He scrambled to sit up, gently taking Joe’s face in his hands.

“Hayati, why didn’t you wake me? It’s three in the afternoon! Oh my love, aren’t you hungry? Did you drink water today?”

Joe smiled, kissing Nicky softly. “I went and drank water. I accidentally dropped a glass, though-”

“That’s alright.”

“-and don’t worry, I’m not hungry yet. Breakfast was very filling. You looked so relaxed sleeping, I didn’t want to wake you for no reason.”

“I’m so sorry, Joe, I didn’t mean to crash like that. How long have you been up?”

“Since noon. But please, amore, don’t apologize. You deserve to rest.” Nicky opened his mouth, presumably to protest, but Joe pushed on. “Do you want to see what I drew? And I wrote you a poem, can I read it to you?”

Nicky’s expression softened, the tension visibly draining from his shoulders. “Absolutely, Joe. Show me everything you’ve sketched and written. Then we can go out for a late lunch, okay?”

To Joe’s immense satisfaction, the mental fog largely stayed away for the rest of the day. There were moments, of course, when all he could do was hold Nicky’s hand and follow his footsteps, mind eerily blank except for the buzz of physical sensation right beneath the surface.

But for the most part, Joe was present. He recognized by name the café they stopped by for lunch and the restaurant they went to for dinner. In between, when they visited il-Moskea, Joe was able to pray properly for the first time in weeks. Nicky had prayed alongside him, and as Joe listened to the quiet recitation of Quran verses from his lips, peace had seemed so easy. So reachable.

“Lean forward, hayati,” Nicky murmured. The moment they’d come home, Nicky had started a hot bath for Joe. Joe complied, leaning forward until the lightly scented bubbles tickled his beard. “Feels good?” Nicky asked, swiping a washcloth over his back.

“So good. Ti amo, Nicky.”

“Ti amo tanto. Now lean back, let’s rinse.”

“Did we- did we used to do this before?”

“What, bathing?” Nicky teased.

“Shut up. I mean, bathing each other. It feels familiar. An ancient ritual from way before I got sick.”

“Hmm.”

“But I can’t remember, Nicky. I visit the place in my heart where I stored those memories, and it’s empty. Like they’ve been stolen.”

Joe heard the distress creep into his tone, and he was sure Nicky could hear it, too. Sure enough, Nicky set the washcloth down and cupped Joe’s face.

“Hey, shhh. Just breathe, my love. It’s okay. We’re okay.”

“I feel like I keep hurting you when I forget important things about us. I don’t want to make you sad. But I can’t help it, Nicky, I don’t know-”

“Joe, ya amar, this isn’t your fault. You never make me sad, do you hear me? And it’s okay if you can’t remember. Getting to be here with you, in this moment, is so much more important to me than anything that came before.”

Joe lowered his eyes, unconvinced.

Nicky sighed. “Hey. The water is getting cold. Let me get your towel from the dryer, I’ll just be a moment.”

Seconds after Nicky left, his phone buzzed, sliding from the toilet lid to the floor. Joe frowned, extending a shaky arm out of the tub to put it back.

But as he picked up the phone, Joe caught sight of the date. June 18th. His frown deepened. June 18th, June 18th, June 18th…

Joe had no idea how he did it, but somehow, he managed to put two and two together. The pastizzi for breakfast. Their favorite restaurants. The trip to the mosque. The way Nicky’s hands had been impossibly gentler today, the way his eyes shined even softer with love.

“Why didn’t you tell me it’s our anniversary?” Joe demanded as soon as Nicky set foot in the bathroom.

Nicky froze. “Joe. How in God’s name did you remember that?”

“I figured it out.”

Nicky set the freshly washed towel on the toilet lid and knelt by the tub. “Joe-”

“You were celebrating it without telling me.” Joe sniffled, mortified to feel tears pooling in his eyes. Of all the things dementia had taken from him, this had to be the worst. He hadn’t even bought Nicky a present.

“Yusuf, please. Please let me explain?” Nicky begged, reaching into the tepid water to hold Joe’s hands.

Joe shook his head, feeling the tears slip loose. Nicky drew a shaky breath, leaning forward to kiss them away. He was crying, too, Joe realized with a start.

“Perdonami, my heart. Perdonami. I didn’t think you’d remember. I didn’t say anything because you would have been devastated that- that it’s gotten this bad. I couldn’t bear you blaming yourself for something so utterly out of your control.”

Joe didn’t reply.

“Joe, listen to me. It’s just a date on the calendar, my love.”

“I don’t want to forget you,” Joe whispered.

A sob caught in Nicky’s throat. He pulled off his shirt and stepped into the tub, wrapping Joe in his arms. Joe tucked his face into Nicky’s neck and cried like a baby.

“Shh, shh, it’s okay. It’s okay,” Nicky croaked, rocking them back and forth. “Everything will be okay.”

It was late by the time they dried off and made it to bed, not bothering with clothes. Joe watched as Nicky put a second comforter at the foot of their bed, in case it got cold during the night. When they were finally snuggled together beneath the covers, Joe spoke.

“Nicky?”

“Hmm?”

“If- when I forget you, will you forgive me?”

Nicky pulled him closer, inhaling deeply as he tangled a hand in Joe’s hair. “There will be nothing to forgive, hayati.”

“I’m not doing it on purpose-”

“I know, Yusuf. I know. You never need to explain yourself to me.”

“Nicolò, promise me that- promise me that you won’t forget. Please don’t forget me.” Joe muffled a whimper, pressing closer until he could feel Nicky’s heart beating against his chest.

There was a long silence. When Nicky spoke, his voice was the steadiest Joe had ever heard.

“My beloved, I promise you that I will not forget. Whether or not you remember, whether or not you can even tell I’m there, I will be at your side for as long as we have together. I will take care of you in every way I know how. And when there is nothing left to do, I will honor your memory until my dying breath. I promise.”

Joe couldn’t reply, couldn’t breathe, as he felt his eyes well up again. His husband rubbed a soothing hand up and down his back, and gradually, the moment of terror passed. Joe relaxed into the sensation, falling asleep to the rhythm of Nicky’s heart and the echo of his magnanimous words.

***

“He doesn’t speak much, now,” Nicky briefed Nile and Booker as he helped carry their overnight bags in. “You’ll have to introduce yourselves.”

Months had passed since their anniversary, and Nicky was adjusting to this new life right alongside Joe. Their dynamic had changed, but their love had not.

Joe no longer walked up behind Nicky and hugged him while he cooked. Nicky no longer woke up at 2AM to find Joe hunched over his sketchbook, struck by some untimely inspiration. They’d never had much need for words, but now, verbal conversation was even rarer.

Instead, they spoke the well-loved language of gentle touches, of midday naps wrapped in each other’s arms. A spontaneous kiss never failed to make Joe smile, and Joe’s smile was enough to make Nicky’s entire day. Their interactions fell back on a bedrock of trust one thousand years in the making. Of course there were bad days - days colored with grief and sickness and loneliness - but far more often, Nicky found his heart flooded with quiet gratitude.

“Hello, Joe,” Nile said, kneeling in front of Joe’s chair and taking his hand. “I’m Nile. It’s lovely to see you.”

Joe said nothing, but his lips curved up in a tentative smile. Booker came forward and knelt next to Nile.

“Hey, buddy. It’s Booker. Long time no see. I don’t know how much of this you understand, Joe, but I hope you know that we love you. So, so much.”

“Hmm,” Joe grunted softly. He turned his other palm over in his lap, as if in invitation. Booker wrapped his hands around Joe’s, eyes shining as he brought it to his lips with reverence.

“I think he knows, Booker,” Nicky smiled fondly. “Come on, I made rice. You two must be hungry from the long plane ride.”

It was later that night, after everyone had eaten and napped, that Nicky remembered about the letters. Joe sat on the couch wrapped in a blanket, watching with interest as Nicky, Nile, and Booker played Snakes & Ladders on the coffee table.

“Oh! I almost forgot,” Nicky exclaimed.

“What?” Nile asked.

“No, no, no - stop trying to distract us,” Booker said shrewdly. “You’re about to land on that snake and you know it. No cheating.”

Nile laughed. “He’s right. Take the fall, old man. You’re back to square five. Come on.”

Nicky scowled, sliding his piece all the way down the board. He’d been so close to winning.

From the couch, Joe snickered. Nile and Booker looked at him in surprise.

“He understands what’s going on?” Booker asked incredulously.

“Just enough to know when to laugh at me.” Nicky rolled his eyes, stopping to kiss Joe’s forehead as he walked away. A soft smile melted across Joe’s face, and he snuggled deeper into his blanket.

“I didn’t think he could get any more adorable, but here we are,” Nile commented. “Joe, you’re a sap, you know that?”

“You’re one to talk,” Nicky countered as he returned with the envelopes. “Remind me again what you gave Booker for your last anniversary?”

“A five-page poem comparing our love to the heavens from five different religious traditions,” Booker bragged. “It was the best thing I’ve ever read.”

Nile blushed furiously. “Alright, alright. Point taken. Hey, what are those?”

Nicky held up the envelopes. “Joe wrote us letters a few months back. One is for you two, and the other one is for me. But he said I couldn’t open mine until I gave you guys yours.”

Nicky handed Nile one of the envelopes and slipped the other into the pocket of his hoodie. Joe watched with mild curiosity, clearly not recognizing the letters.

“Should we call it a night?” Booker asked. “It’s nearly 1AM.”

“Quitting while you’re in the lead, Book?” Nicky teased. “But no, I think that’s a great idea. Joe would normally have slept hours ago.”

“He doesn’t look tired,” Nile observed.

“That’s because he’s entertained. He loves when people visit.”

The four of them walked towards the bedrooms. Nile and Booker waved goodbye to Joe as Nicky guided him into their room, before continuing down the hallway to the guest room.

“Nicky’s set everything up for us,” Nile appreciated. “These sheets are so soft.”

“That man works too hard. I worry about him.” Booker ran a hand through his hair fretfully. “I don’t know, Nile, I feel like we should hang around here more. Help Nicky out, spend more time with Joe.”

Nile stepped out of her clothes and curled up under the covers. Booker followed suit.

“We could,” she agreed. “I would appreciate the change of pace. And of course, having the family together will be nice.”

“But you would get restless.”

“Me and you both, Book.” Nile turned to face him, reaching out to caress his cheek. “I know, I know the point of immortality isn’t to fight all the time. But when we’re not fighting, I feel like we’re wasting this gift.”

“Yeah. I’ve had centuries longer to get used to immortality, and I still feel that way.”

“Maybe we could visit more often?”

“Hmm,” Booker smiled. “That would be nice.”

“Hey. Should we open Joe’s letter?”

“Oh, yeah! Definitely.” Booker propped himself up against the headboard, holding out an arm to Nile. She snuggled up next to him, carefully opening the envelope.

“Here we go.”

***

There were good days, and there were bad days. Nicky had spent centuries caring for the world, and now, he savored the years he’d been given to care for his world.

Nile and Booker visited more now, and Nicky sensed, deep down, that something had changed. Late-stage Alzheimer’s had not been easy on Joe - the darkness that came with cognitive decline was an extremely unpleasant experience for someone who preferred putting their emotions into words. And then, as Joe’s motor skills wore down, he’d found himself increasingly cut off from his art. Nicky had ached for him, helpless to provide much relief.

But these days, there was a calmness about Joe that hadn’t been there before. The anxiety gave way to an aura of peace, especially when Joe could see or hear Nicky nearby. Often, Nicky would stop whatever he was doing to just come sit with Joe, trying to absorb some of his serenity. It was like being in the presence of someone deep in meditation.

One night, Nicky returned to their bedroom after doing the dishes to find Joe sitting up against the headboard.

“Still awake, hayati?” He shook out the sheets as he undressed for bed, not expecting a response.

“Nicolò.”

Nicky froze. Surely he’d hallucinated that; it had been over a year since Joe was able to recognize him by name. He didn’t dare look up.

“Nicolò, my beloved,” Joe repeated, voice hoarse with disuse. Nicky closed his eyes, clamping down on a sob. He tossed the sheets aside and crawled into bed, reaching for Joe.

“What is it?” Nicky asked as he took Joe’s hands in his own, kissing his cold knuckles. “Tell me.”

“It’s time.”

“No,” Nicky shook his head, wrapping his arms around Joe. He was utterly unprepared for this. “No, no, please God, please, no…”

Nicky clung to Joe, sobbing unrestrainedly into his shoulder. This couldn’t be happening. This was madness. A nightmare, Nicky decided - a particularly torturous nightmare that he would soon wake up from. And Joe would be next to him, perfectly fine, their lives untouched by this ugly monster of a disease.

When he finally calmed down enough to pull back, Nicky found Joe watching him, eyes round with unshed tears. The moment of lucidity had passed, Nicky realized. All Joe could see now was his seemingly causeless distress.

Joe tightened his grip on Nicky’s arm minutely in a silent question, and Nicky almost wanted to laugh. Even now, Joe was still checking in with him.

“It’s nothing, love.” Nicky wiped his eyes quickly. “Let’s sleep, yeah? You must be tired.”

Nicky helped Joe lie down on his back before lying down next to him. He pulled Joe closer, gently kissing the shell of his ear.

“I love you,” Nicky murmured, the words feeling like too much and not enough. “I’m going to tell you a story tonight, okay?”

Joe grunted his assent, already half asleep. Nicky closed his eyes, taking a deep breath to ground himself. He thought back to Joe’s letter, to the words he’d memorized the very night he read them.

When the time comes, amore mio, I ask that you hold me close. And speak to me, please. I want to hear everything - how we met in Jerusalem, our adventures with Andy and Quynh, all the bets you lost to Booker, the delight on Nile’s face when you let her use the paints you’d preserved from the 1500s. I want to hear about all the times we got married, and all the anniversaries we celebrated. Most of all, Nicky, I want to hear your voice. I want to move on from this world surrounded by you, your beautiful voice, your loving hands.

And in case I can’t tell you then, I love you. Deep down, I think I’ve always loved you, even before we made peace. And I know I will always love you, be it in this world or the next. Please never doubt this, my all. I love you so much.

Nicky struggled for a moment to regain control, overwhelmed at the memory. Then, lips touching Joe’s ear, he began to speak. He held Joe in his arms as he whispered their story into the silence of the night. Joe sighed deeply in his sleep, pliant in Nicky’s embrace.

Nicky had no idea how long he continued on - hours, at least. There was so much to say. He talked and talked until he fell asleep next to Joe, right where he belonged.

***

“Abort mission,” Nile hissed into the comms. “Code Red. Meet me at the checkpoint ASAP.”

Minutes later, Booker jogged up to the checkpoint. “What happened? Are you okay? I’d almost gotten through-” Booker stopped, noticing Nile’s tear-streaked face. His tone softened immediately. “Mon amour, what is it? What’s wrong?”

Nile sniffled. “Joe’s gone, Book. He’s gone.”

Booker staggered backwards like he’d been slapped. “Gone?! What the fuck do you mean, gone?”

Nile pressed a fist to her mouth to stifle a sob. “Voicemail.” She held out her phone.

Booker put the phone to his ear and listened. He heard Nicky’s voice, quiet and anguished, but felt oddly removed from the whole situation. What language was Nicky speaking? It sounded like Italian, so why wasn’t it making sense?

“Hey, Book? Talk to me, love. Hey.”

Nile’s voice, Booker thought. It sounded like she was talking to him through a very long cardboard tube. His vision swam. Everything seemed so distorted.

“Booker!”

The next thing he knew, Booker was blinking up at Nile from the ground, head half in her lap.

“Do not pass out on me,” Nile muttered through gritted teeth. “Get up, Book, please. I can’t do this. Not alone. Please.”

Booker felt an itch on his cheek, but when he reached up to scratch it, his hand came away wet with tears. Nicky’s words, tinny and wrecked with sorrow, floated back into his head.

It suddenly struck him that Nicky was an ocean away, alone with his grief. Booker pushed himself to his feet, holding out a hand to Nile.

“Come on. We have to go to Malta.”

They fought on the trip, during a two-hour layover in Spain. Exhausted, hungry, and grieving, it was no surprise their tempers ran unusually short.

“What do you mean, let him be?” Nile assuredly did not yell. She was simply disagreeing loudly. “He’s lost his life partner of a thousand years, Book! He needs support - he needs family.”

“And what makes you think we can be that for him? What makes you think we can even start to fill the void left by Joe’s absence?!”

“It’s not about filling the damn void-”

“You don’t know what it’s like! When I lost my mortal wife, I felt like I’d lost everything! Even though I had Andy, and Joe, and Nicky, and- and you.”

“You were entitled to your grief, Book. So is Nicky. But I lost people too, so don’t you dare tell me I don’t know what it’s like. I’m immortal, too. I’ve lost my parents. It’s not just you.”

“No, that’s not- Listen! It took me centuries, centuries, to overcome that grief. I didn’t want to. I wouldn’t have done it if I had a choice. All I’m saying is… Nicky has a choice, Nile. He’s mortal.”

Nile’s eyes went wide. “So you’re saying we just- let him take his own life?!”

“I’m saying it’s not our decision to make! And it’s not… morally wrong or something if he chooses that. Look, chronic pain is real, Nile, whether it’s physical or emotional. Everyone who can has a right to opt out.”

“This isn’t the same thing as euthenasia, Book.”

“It’s not so different either, is it?”

There was a minute of silence as they stared daggers at each other across the terminal bench. Then Booker sighed.

“They’re closer than we could ever imagine, Nile. They’re one soul, two bodies. If he wants to go, we have to let him go.”

Nile sat down, running a hand down her face in devastation. “What about the letter?”

“What letter?”

“You know what letter. Joe’s letter. He asked us for one thing, Booker. One thing only. And that was that we don’t let Nicky die of a broken heart.”

“It doesn’t matter. Joe’s not here. Nicky is.”

“How could you dismiss his last wishes like that?”

“Nile, look at me. What do you think Joe wants above all else? What’s the only thing he’s ever really wanted?”

“For Nicky to be happy,” Nile whispered after a beat. “Love, can’t we at least try? Can’t we just… be there for him?”

“Of course,” Booker said, sitting down next to her and taking her hand. “Of course. But we cannot choose for him, amour. That’s all I’m saying.”

“Okay,” Nile sniffled, not entirely convinced. “Okay. I’m sorry I shouted at you.”

“I’m sorry, too. I’m just really…” Booker waved a hand in the air, trying to find the words. “Broken. I feel broken. Like I’m not myself.”

“I understand. I feel like that, too.”

“Hey. We don’t board for another 20 minutes. Can I get you a coffee?”

Nile managed a tired half-smile. “I’d like that. Thank you.”

***

In the end, it took four days of sleeping on Nicky’s couch for them to convince Nicky to drink water. It was another two days before he could keep down any food.

On the ninth day, Nicky broke down in front of them for the first time, crying his heart out as Booker and Nile just held him, murmuring gentle nothings and waiting out the tears.

They decided, at length, to take the year off from missions. They stayed with Nicky in the large house, trying to make it feel less empty. The grief would hit each of them at different times, and when it did, the other two would be there, always ready to lend a shoulder to cry on.

Within a year, the depression was slowly starting to lift. None of them had quite moved on, but they were very deliberately trying to make peace with this new reality.

Nicky fell back on simple rituals. Across from his bed, where he could see it first thing in the morning and last thing at night, he pinned up one of Joe’s charcoal self-portraits. Nicky loved it for how raw and alive it was in its beauty; not simply an image of Joe, but one that still carried traces of his fingertips in the sweeping strokes, the perspective of his eyes in the lighting.

Every morning, Nicky would kiss the tips of his fingers and press them to the bottom of the portrait in benediction. Then, he would close his eyes, letting the love and sorrow flow freely in his chest for a few minutes.

“I will see you again, hayati,” he would say. “Wait for me by the gates of Heaven, just as you did by the gates of Jerusalem. I will be with you again soon.”

It was a ritual that Nile and Booker supported wholeheartedly.

“Tell Joe to say hi to Andy for me,” Booker would add.

“Tell Joe I miss him. No one else will geek out with me over the Impressionist Movement,” Nile would grumble.

Sometimes, Nicky thought, it was like Joe was simply away on a mission. Like he would walk back through the door at any moment.

“Maybe he never left,” Nile mused once when Nicky voiced this thought. The three of them were sitting on the veranda, sipping hot tea and watching people mull about on the street.

Nicky frowned. “I want his soul to be at peace, Nile. Not wandering around like a ghost.”

“You know what they say. Not all who wander are lost.”

“I do feel like he’s here, sometimes,” Nicky confessed. “People say that your loved ones never truly leave you, that they stay alive in your heart, but I always figured it was a metaphor. I never imagined it could feel so real.”

“Can I ask you something, Nicky?” Booker’s voice shook slightly with hesitation.

“Hmm, go ahead.”

“How- how did you survive?”

Nicky rubbed his eyes. “Joe would never forgive me if I didn’t. That was the main reason. But I also believe that this is my penance.”

“For what?”

“For how we met. For what I did to him, to his people, his family. All this pain - being without him, mourning him - this is what finally cleanses me of my actions. It hurts, every day it hurts, but I can’t bring myself to run from it.” He stared down into his tea for a long moment. “I will continue on until it is my time, because it’s what my Joe would have wanted.”

***

Three years after Joe’s passing, Nicky finally gathered the courage to sort through his things. As he carried a stack of notebooks from the closet to the bed, one slipped to the ground and fell open.

Nicky set the others down and picked it up, running his fingertips over the page. It was a poem, written in Joe’s familiar cursive.

Empires rise and fall In a blink of God’s eye, The laws of nature bend As what’s mortal becomes divine. And the realization dawns When I see I’m left behind, Humankind’s greatest inheritance Is losing something to time.

As Nicky contemplated this, his cell phone blared to life on the nightstand. He reached for it distractedly.

“Hello?”

“Nicky,” Nile gasped on the other end.

“Nile? Dio, isn’t it like 3AM there?”

“Yeah, I woke up. How fast can you get to Medina?”

“Uh… I could book a flight for a few hours out?”

“Great, do that. Booker and I are already on the way to the airport.”

“Wha- Nile, slow down. What’s going on?”

There was a brief pause. Then-

“We had this dream. There’s a new one.”

16 notes · View notes

heart-forge · 4 years ago

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(1/5) (I reread this before sending it, and realized it starts to sound like it could be going in a negative direction, so let me preface by saying this is positive.) So I always enjoy reading your thoughts on gender bc, as a person who is more-than-usually-cis (but very aware of the fact that many people are not), your words give me new ways of looking at and thinking about the gender spectrum that I am unable to come up with on my own. Some time ago you said something like…

(2/5)…‘my personal version of gender is don’t-look-at-me’ (I hope I remembered and paraphrased that close enough to still reflect your words), and I love how perfectly concise and evocative and clear and relatable that description is. Your explanation of dying if ‘put in everyday women’s wear or anything fitted for men’ is equally evocative and understandable. I love your explanation that all of your characters are somehow nb in part bc you have no idea what being cis is like…

(3/5)…so how could you write it confidently? Bc I’m ace, and I feel the same way about all of my characters: how could I ever feel confident saying one of them is really allosexual when I have no idea what that is like? But then, BUT THEN, I see your comment about your opinion on gender being like how sometimes spinach wilts and sometimes it crisps up and that’s fine too, and…what??? What is this delightful hieroglyph??? What is this mysterious riddle, this enigmatic epigram? XD

(4/5) I stared at that sentence for like ten minutes trying to figure out how to interpret that and understand it in a helpful way, and when I gave up I then looked down at the tags to see a further comparison to 90s beading kits? Marti, sweetheart, I am so delightfully confused by this comparison, and I can make neither head nor tails of it.

(5/5) I’m not asking for an explanation or clarification or anything. I suspect it just isn’t a simile that works for me. Maybe bc I don’t like spinach—crispy, wilted, fresh, or otherwise. I just wanted to let you know that I like your writing and thoughts, and this one in particular amused me. Keep being you <3

Thank you for the message !! I’m glad my nonsense speaks to you 😅😂

Ultimately I do think I see a lot of NB describing their gender with super abstract terms, which I think is just chalked up to “how do you talk about gender when you don’t really believe in it”? I don’t mean that like “all gender is fake including yours, sucker!” just that it’s hard to describe yourself as “masculine” or “feminine” when those are....kind of binary terms, even separated from the cisnormative concepts of men are masculine and women are feminine. It feels loaded to describe oneself like that, because I don’t necessarily feel feminine even when I’m achieving one of my many aesthetic ideals (”Extremely Online Older Sister in the 90′s”), so even though it’s a feminine aesthetic....I’m not feminine while doing it.

I mostly associate gender with things that I associate with myself. So, I’m a 90′s beading kit that I always had even though I never remember actually making beaded jewellery with it. I’m spinach that I didn’t cook quite right but it was fine and I ate it so whatever. Everyone’s different so some NBs might feel more comfortable working with typical gendered terms, but in my specific case (and as you brought up) the “don’t look at me” gender is less about not wanting people not to look at me at all (although......) but more or less the way that I’m constantly looked at in terms of what I look like (pretty gendered, which in and of itself don’t bother me much at all by itself) and not in terms of what I am, which is someone who has gone through extreme pains to use my original Xbox 360 controller on my PC even though the controller UI for most games is so much worse and every month I have to go shake my device manager so it remembers that the controller exists.

I know you didn’t ask for an explanation, but I’m sure everyone is well aware that I do literally nothing but talk so here’s one anyway !! 💚💚💚 💚💚💚 💚💚💚 💚💚💚 💚💚💚 💚💚💚 💚💚💚 💚💚💚 💚💚💚 💚💚💚 💚💚💚 💚💚💚 💚💚💚 💚💚💚 💚💚💚 💚💚💚

#talkForge #Anonymous

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praycambrian · 3 years ago

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hey! i have had a GREAT time discovering your fic this year and, since i haven't left half as many comments as i would've wanted, i thought i'd try and make up for it with some end of year writing asks (if you're still doing them). so 13 and 24 because i love a rec, 14 because it sounds fun, and 21 to give you an excuse to reflect on the (deservedly) nice things people have said about your writing. take care and thanks for sharing such banging stories!

STOP I’M BLUSHING. that’s so sweet, friend, thank you <3

(the meme in question, which i am absolutely still doing because i am definitely not above preening like narcissus at the water’s edge)

13. favorite writing song/artist/album of this year: a somewhat tough question because i don’t usually listen to music when i’m actively writing because it makes my brain do the equivalent of the trolley problem except with way more flashing lights and klaxons. HOWEVER when i do listen to music while writing, it’s probably Daniel Bachman (my beloved) whose guitar and drone work just....settles me and energizes me at the same time, and also has such a phenomenal sense of place. (it took a lot of strength of will not to include like six of his songs on my ridiculous justified playlist.)

14. a fic you didn’t expect to write: lol a magic the gathering fic that came out of me in like twenty frenzied minutes and which is and will likely remain my least popular work. (it’s about making friends <3)

21. most memorable comment/review: also a very tough question. i have gotten no end of lovely comments from my dear justies that have made me clutch my face in delight. but i have to go with this one comment on On this ground that was just so sweet and effusive and thoughtful and attentive, but which also arrived on a really tough day for me personally. i ended up crying on the bathroom floor for an hour for like, unrelated reasons but i was trying to cheer myself up and i read this comment for like the fifth time and then showed it to my partner and then THEY cried because it was so sweet and special. i felt like the person got what i didn’t even fully realize i was trying to say with that story and it came at exactly the right time. anyway faintlystrange if you’re reading this i love you

24. favorite fic you read this year: wow roxane you really picked all the hardest questions on this list huh! i will cheat and give multiple answers, one new fic and one old fic: a kind of dwell and welcome, obviously, because it consumed me for literal weeks (@leupagus i would apologize for continuing to fill your mentions about this story but it’s only what you deserve). but i also reread some old favorites, including The Bushwick Avenue Stomp, which is a perfect subtle joyous nervewracking little novel that i frequently forget is actually a fic about suits, i show i briefly and casually watched like ten years ago.

#memery #my fic #long post

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jess-rewatches-prodigalson · 4 years ago

Text

Speak of the Devil (S2, E2)

Damn. I love this show.

As usual, my time stamped SPOILER FULL thoughts are below.

As always, I reference Malcolm’s mental health. A lot. So if talk about depression/mania/suicidal ideation is going to be a trigger for you, don’t keep reading.

0:14 - Hector’s back!! hahaha :)

0:40 - So Martin is worried about Malcolm.....he could stop manipulating Malcolm if he’s so worried. That would make Malcolm feel slightly better at least.

0:50 - What. A. Boss. That ambush was gorgeously executed *chef’s kiss*. haha how many times do you think Jessica has orchestrated this type of ambush on one of her children?

0:52 - I love this outfit on Malcolm. Seriously - why is it sooo attractive when he’s not wearing a tie?

0:55 -........he’s not seeing Gabrielle....but but he had a lollipop last episode. Am I supposed to believe he buys his own lollipops? Maybe he bought some to throw the team off the scent? UGH. MALCOLM, SWEETHEART, GO BACK TO THERAPY. YOU’RE IN CRISIS. ....wait. I bet you he’s not seeing Gabrielle because she knows when he’s lying. He’s probably scared that he’ll end up telling her about Endicott. And I’m pretty sure that legally Gabrielle can’t keep a crime a secret regardless of doctor-patient confidentiality.

1:02 - .....Malcolm didn’t know that he wasn’t paying his own therapy bills? WHO DID HE THINK WAS PAYING THEM?!?! Damn. Rich people, am I right?

1:10 - You ever wonder how many therapists Malcolm saw as a kid before they found Gabrielle? Just me? Cool.

1:15 - OMG. “Sexual in nature”?!?! Calm down Jess. He’s a grown ass man and even if it was sexual Malcolm sure as hell wouldn’t want to talk to his mother about his sex life.

1:19 - Oh so now both of your kids are in a “good place”? Martin, less than a minute ago you were ‘worried’ about Malcolm. Further proof that Martin is a liar and we can’t believe anything he says. Ever.

1:43 - Tom Payne’s physical acting during this interaction with Jessica is incredible. Ugh. Honestly, can I give him an Emmy myself? Look. Look at his face when he says, “You wouldn’t understand.” This is a teenage boy trying to hide something from his mom and is terrified that she’ll see the lie if he makes eye-contact. <3

1:45 - You know, Jessica really isn’t a perfect mother (especially to Ainsley) but she does care about her kids. I love her for it. She actually shows more concern for her adult children than most parents with adult children that I’ve been exposed to.

2:08 - I can’t decide if I love the music that was playing through that scene or if it’s just super cheesy and cringey. I mean “I did a bad bad thing” right as the title page rolls out? Kind of amazing but also super dorky.

2:13 - So Mr. David hears this whole conversation. Malcolm talking about his guilt, Martin calling Malcolm a hero, and Malcolm saying that the only person he can talk to about his problems is Martin. Sooooo either

Mr. David is being paid very well to keep quiet on Whitly family drama,

Mr. David stopped listening years ago.

Mr. David is a moron who can’t connect the dots. OR

Mr. David is going to blow this whistle on this fiasco to Jessica soon. I mean, he called her in the first season when Malcolm started visiting Martin. Mr. David has Jessica’s number...and I have a hunch that Mr. David cares about Malcolm. He’s watched Malcolm grow up into a troubled, bizarre, but very sweet man.

2:14 - “Why are you calling me?” Malcolm sounds upset that Martin is calling him; so why pick up the phone? I mean, I guess Martin will call him back incessantly but still.

2:19 - Malcolm’s completely honest version of how he’s doing mentally is heartbreaking. He “doesn’t recognize himself anymore”? Ugh. Baby. My heart is shattering. Someone hug him. OR TAKE HIM TO GABRIELLE.

2:30 - There is a moment when Malcolm says, “narcissistic psychopath” where is genuinely sounds like he’s about to have a complete breakdown. This boy is on the verge. My whump heart loves it and it makes me evil.

2:56 - aaannnnnnd there’s Malcolm on the verge of tears. This boy. Ugh. <3

3:00 - “It’s not going away Malcolm. The guilt. Take it from me.” Sooooo Mr. David isn’t a moron right? He’s going to connect the dots. He has to. ISTG Jessica keeps saying “No more lies” in the promos because Mr. David told her what he overheard.

3:06 - And that is the face of a boy who is dead on the inside. Seriously, he’s spent his whole life trying to convince himself (and others) that he is nothing like his father. But here we are - all his fears confirmed and it’s killed him.

3:20 - “Is this what you used?” Ainsley is talking about how Malcolm disposed of the body right? Because last episode she thanked Malcolm for covering for her. Sooooo she clearly knows that she killed Endicott even if she doesn’t remember it. I mean, she was covered in blood - Malcolm wasn’t.

3:23.- OMG. Endicott was killed with the Milton family silver. hahahaha why is that so funny to me?

3:43 - Just how big is that gap in her memory? I’d truly like to know. When did she check out, when did she check in, and are those times different than what she’s letting Malcolm believe?

3:55 - Yeah - I still want to know why she moved in. COVID? Is she afraid she’s going to do something else murdery? Because surely, living in the house where you know you killed someone can’t be pleasant. Or easy. Unless of course Ainsley is more like Martin than we’d like to believe.

4:09 - hahahahaha I am living for Malcolm’s facial response to Jessica saying, “I am in charge of boxes.”

4:22 - hahahaha Malcolm and Ainsley teasing Jessica about Gil is so precious. I love it. I wish they were always that happy.

4:40 - Look at Malcolm’s face when he says, “You and a certain Lieutenant”. He’s practically giddy. Whether that’s because he’s thoroughly enjoying the opportunity to tease his mother OR because he’s always wanted Jessica and Gil to be together in that way that many children who grow up in single parent homes hope for a fairytale parental ending. My guess - a mixture of both.

4:45 - Ainsley looks delighted at the idea of Gil/Jessica too. I assume it’s because she loves the gossip and the opportunity to tease Jessica. BUT I also wonder what Ainsley’s relationship with Gil is like? Do they have one?

4:58 - “Does he let you wear his turtlenecks?” OMG. bahahahaha comedic GOLD.

5:10 - THIS. The evolution of JT and Malcolm’s friendship is everything. 10/10 would recommend. So sweet. LOOK AT HOW CONCERNED MALCOLM IS. <3 <3 Malcolm’s been calling JT?!?! UGH. This warms my cold dead heart.

5:20 - JT is a bad liar. This dude is not okay.

5:27 - “When I say I’m fine, I’m always lying.” .....we already knew this but it hurts to hear Malcolm say is so nonchalantly.

5:32 - JT does the sign of the cross....so he’s definitely religious.

5:56 - “Holy...” “Watch it Bright.” hahaha how much do you want to bet that Gil took Malcolm to church once (1) time as a kid. It went so poorly that Gil never brought him again. Malcolm was probably questioning the priest and generally just asking a lot of “why” questions.

6:15 - Gil is so done with the Edrisa+Bright banter. Look at his face - he’s just sooo tired. .....is Gil particularly cranky this episode because Jessica is dodging his phone calls?

6:23 - Malcolm looks pensive as soon as Gil mentions that the Father had been with the church for 30 years. Why?

6:56 - I’m not going to lie. I’m really getting tired of the crap Dani (and even Gil in this episode - is he mad at Malcolm for avoiding him when he was hospital-bound? Or just cranky because Jessica isn’t calling him back?) are giving Malcolm. He’s asking a question relevant to the case. Sure - it’s not an easy question to ask but last season they wouldn’t have glared at him for asking it. I understand that Dani is upset with Malcolm for lying to her and she probably thinks he knows something about how Endicott died. I get it - Malcolm screwed up. BUT Dani’s reaction is so over the top. I understand where she’s coming from - she has trust issues. That doesn’t give her the right to treat him like garbage for the rest of his life. It’s been literally MONTHS.

7:11 - “That’s not a no.”....Damn, he looks cute when he says that.

7:30 - I LOVE that Malcolm knows so much about the Bible and Catholicism even though he’s not a believer. It makes me think he investigated a ton of religions as a kid - looking for relief from his trauma. I respect that he did the research and I respect that he doesn’t (openly at least) think other people are moronic/short-sighted for believing in God(s).

7:56 - I’ll be honest, my first reaction to Jonah was: “Why does he look and sound like he’s dying?”

8:03 - “Catholic.” haha I love some good religious comedy. BUT AGAIN GIL, THAT GLARE IS SO NOT NECESSARY. That wasn’t a ‘warning - you’re being insensitive’ glare. That was a ‘I’m your father and you’re in sooo much trouble’ glare. I love Gil with my whole heart but everyone is being a dick to Malcolm today (minus JT and Edrisa) and I’m done with it. Malcolm’s fragile mental state can’t handle it. Be nice to my boy.

8:35 - Is this Gil’s church?!? Why does he know all the church staff by name? He either attends this church or someone gave him an amazing briefing before he got to the church.

9:34 - At least Gil knows something is wrong with Malcolm.

9:41 - What? That’s it? No. Gil - press on. Don’t accept Malcolm’s “I’m fine”.

10:18 - I wish this scene didn’t end with Gil’s look of disbelief and concern. I wish we got to see Gil tell Malcolm not to go see Martin. I wish we got a more concrete papa!Gil moment.

10:42 - Something about the fact that Martin is tethered to a pole like a tether-ball is hilarious to me. Also - why are some prisoners not tied up? The inmate talking to Friar Pete has no rope.

10:52 - Ugh. When exactly did Martin give Malcolm “The Talk”? Like how old was Malcolm? How traumatic was it? Ugh. It’s very upsetting to remember that Martin acted like a good father to Malcolm for a good portion of the first 10 years of Malcolm’s life. It really doesn’t help Malcolm’s PTSD.

11:00 - That’s right Malcolm. Don’t let Martin ramble. Stand your ground. <3 So proud of Malcolm <3

11:15 - Listen to the way Malcolm says, “Who is that?”. He’s some combination of resigned and scared. I love it.

11:33 - Friar Pete is so creepy. The way he just walks up to Malcolm until his rope goes taught?! UGH. Poor Malcolm looks so done with this whole situation. He’s rolling his eyes and grimacing at various points throughout this scene. He has some major sass right now and I’m here for it.

11:41 - “You two should talk!” ....Is this Martin’s really eff-ed up way of trying to help Malcolm with his guilt about Endicott? I don’t like it.....and Malcolm’s face tells me he doesn’t either.

12:48 - Is that true? Can churches really not exorcise people without medical permission in the current day? I thought exorcisms were just banned? IDK - I’m a Christian, my branch of faith doesn’t do exorcisms.

13:33 - YES! A JT AND MALCOLM SCENE. <3 <3 I’m unreasonably happy about this.

13:45 - sooooooo is this Norman’s real home and his real mother? The first time I watched it I thought it was some sort of weird catholic-inpatient facility but now I’m not sure.

15:10 - Ok. I can’t hold back anymore. Malcolm’s shoes. They. Are. Awful. I understand - Tom Payne is a short guy. He probably needs heels to fit in the shot. I’m not mad about the heels. I’m made that they gave him very very ugly heels. Is it just me? These shoes are hideous.

15:14 - “Hi Norman.” .....Malcolm is so soft here and I’m in love with it. My cold dead heart is melting. Also JT’s freaked-out look in this scene is everything.

15:25 - There’s something about the way Malcolm says “Good.” that just hits me really hard. It’s beautiful. He sounds and looks a little scared but he’s also really calm and professional and it’s just...*chef’s kiss*.

16:44 - “He’s clearly mentally-ill.” I love this. I love that Malcolm is defending the person with a severe mental illness because he doesn’t have any proof that Norman committed a crime. It also breaks my heart. Makes me think of how many people dismissed or judged Malcolm poorly throughout his life because Malcolm’s mental illnesses. Even though they weren’t quite as extreme as Norman’s.

16:54 - I love this. JT is telling Malcolm to stay behind the line partially out of fear (because this whole Norman situation is clearly freaking JT out big time) but also partially because he just cares about Malcolm. I love their friendship and it’s evolution. SO. MUCH.

17:21 - Is there a mirror of something? How the hell did Norman know that Malcolm crossed the salt? Was it the slight creaking in the floorboards?

17:54 - Dude. Is every suspect this season going to accuse Malcolm of being a killer? First Boyd, now Norman. This is not helping Malcolm’s mental state or his ability to hide his guilt from the team.

18:30 - “Malcolm Bright. Always crossing the line.” lol. I love JT here. He’s half-teasing Malcolm. Makes me think that he subtly trying to tell Malcolm that he isn’t the killer Norman says that he is.

18:44 - I DO NOT LIKE THIS. LOOK AT HOW SCARED MALCOLM IS WHEN HE WALKS INTO THE ROOM. A ROOM WITH GIL AND DANI IN IT. THIS IS NOT RIGHT. HE’S NOT SUPPOSED TO BE SCARED OF THEM.

19:00 - “What the hell do you have?”. Wow. Okay. No. I love Gil. I understand that he loves Malcolm like a son and he’s scared for Malcolm and Malcolm’s mental state. But this question is so over the line. Gil knows damn well what Malcolm’s mental diagnoses are. It feels like he’s accusing Malcolm of being crazy. I don’t like it.

19:17 - “Are you serious?” Ok. Dani really needs to start being nicer to Malcolm. She doesn’t have to trust him but some professional civility would be great. I really don’t like how hard the writers are pushing this tension between Dani and Malcolm. It makes Dani look so immature. An adult would be pissed but get over the anger after literal months. The relationship wouldn’t necessarily be the same but it sure as hell wouldn’t be this hostile.

19:40 - Something about Malcolm being the calmest person in the room is both comforting and upsetting.

19:55 - “My father gave it to me.”.....that’s so not going to help Gil’s concern about Malcolm.

20:50 - This is cute. We don’t get to see enough of Jessica and Ainsley acting like a semi-normal mother-daughter duo. I love it.

21:00 - “We are WASPs. It’s. What. We. Do.” OMG. Hahahaha

21:05 - I love how invested Ainsley is in the Gil/Jessica relationship. It’s so clear that she wants her Mom to be happy and I love it. It also makes me wonder if she ever wanted Gil to be her real dad as a kid.

21:30 - Damn. This episode is creepy.

21:45 - First clue that this is a dream - Malcolm says “we” but he’s alone.

21:57 - ...are Nuns allowed to paint their nails? #GenuineQuestion

22:14 - Not going to lie. This made me cry. I relate to Malcolm so damn much here. I’ve had a severe anxiety disorder for as long as I can remember (seriously I saw my first therapist - against my will - at the age of 4). I’ve also had chronic depression for almost as long. AND I’m a christian. I can’t tell you how many times other christians have told me to “cast my worries on the Lord” and “be free” of my pain. Or that I don’t really believe in God because I’m still suffering so visibly. The problem is - I don’t know if I want to be free. I’ve had these issues so long that I’m genuinely not sure who I’d be without them. It’s how I define myself. It affects every aspect of my personality. I feel like Malcolm might feel the same way - he doesn’t want to suffer anymore but he’s afraid of finding out who he is without the pain.

22:17 - Okay. So there’s Gil’s voice. So Gil+ Malcolm = “we”. As though I’m supposed to believe that Gil would split up with Malcolm when they’re looking for a nun, who isn’t even a suspect, at a church. Nah. I don’t buy it. This is clearly a dream.

22:30 - “You have to tell them what you did.”...and then we see the knife. Does this mean Malcolm is slowly convincing himself that he killed Endicott. Not Ainsley? Either way - I agree with nightmare-Ainsley. The team loves Malcolm but they’re also detectives. They’ll figure out what happened. And when they do - yikes.

22:46 - I hate this. All season suspects have been calling Malcolm evil. Martin has been calling Malcolm a “hero”. Malcolm’s guilt is eating him alive. Simultaneously, the people who are supposed to trust and care about him (Dani, Gil, the precinct, Jessica) have all shown signs of doubting him. Dani alone has pointed a gun at Malcolm’s head. Now she’s wearing body armour? AND LOOK AT THE OTHER COPS. THEY ALL HAVE THEIR HANDS ON THEIR GUNS AS THOUGH MALCOLM IS A CRIMINAL. A THREAT. DANGEROUS. This is very bad for Malcolm’s mental health......God, the whump-whore in me hopes he has a major panic attack or something this season.

23:23 - I love this scene. This is the papa!Gil content I’m here for.

23:51 - JT expressing fear and concern for his unborn child makes my heart grow several sizes. Look at his puppy dog eyes here? Ugh. So precious. This whole JT arc is heartbreaking and beautiful. I love it.

24:15 - Sooooo JT knows about Jessica right? He’s a detective and a husband. He so knows. hahaha this is so cute.

24:19 - Gil. You. Are. A. Liar......and you’ve been really grumpy this episode but I’m going to forgive you because I love you.

24:28 - GIL. You’ve waited 20 years. How much longer can you wait for Jessica?!?!

24:35 - Maybe JT didn’t know? At least - not until Gil rambled on about waiting? JT looks like he just connected all the dots and he’s super uncomfortable.

24:43 -...... so she verbally attacks him all episode then drives him home and acts like she did toward Malcolm by mid-season 1? I’m getting whiplash.

25:18 - This scene is so cute. They actually made the real life version of heart-eyes at each other. And Malcolm pours her a glass of water. Because 1) she’s driving and 2) she’s a recovering addict. He’s so casually respectful and I love it.

25:28 - “Are you any different?” Ouch. Look at how hurt Malcolm is. :( Although, props to Dani for confronting him about it. Someone needed to and she’s being really calm and caring about it.

26:10 - Dani’s little speech about being a black woman feels a little forced? Like the writers put it in so she doesn’t feel left out compared to JT? Idk, the whole thing just seemed not quite believable. Probably because when JT was racially profiled Dani - a black woman - pulled out her badge and all the white cops listened to her. It just doesn’t track. They wouldn’t have listened to her if they were racist and bold enough to attack JT in the first place.

26:47 - Anyone else think that all those lit candles are a fire hazard? Just me? Cool cool cool.

27:21 - Yo. This is stupid. I understand why this happened - because the plot needed it to happen. BUT WHY DID ALL THREE ARMED COPS LEAVE THREE UNARMED PEOPLE ALONE?!? And when does a team of 4 split into a group of 3 and 1??! It makes no logical sense (except for plot purposes).

28:03 - Creepy.

28:30 - Oh. HELL no. This is absolute bs. My entire heart is breaking for JT.

29:05 - I really like how chill this Priest is. Like - he respects that Malcolm’s a disbeliever and he’s willing to talk to him without trying to convert him.

29:55 - Listen to how upset JT sounds here!! :( :( :( My heart. :(

30:08 - Ok so how did she end up tied in the closet and not murdered?

30:40 - ....so did Jonah ruin that painting while Sister Agnes was in the closet or is the Sister just a moron who didn’t say anything about the guy ruining the painting?!?

30:50 - Sooooo Jonah is an “expert”. He taught Sister Agnes how to safely handle the lead-based paint. Yet - he didn’t use the protection? We saw him with a gas mask at the beginning of the episode? Did the sister not notice that he wasn’t using the protection? So much of this doesn’t track. Thankfully, I don’t watch this show for the “murder of the week” plot line.

31:30 - Malcolm is a good dude. Even now. He’s trying to help Jonah. <3 Heart of gold.

32:25 - Martin - shut. up.

32:45 - Friar Pete is a creepy treasure. I love him.

33:24 - “Oh you’ve gotta be kidding.” hahaha I feel you Malcolm. I feel you.

33:34 - Not gonna lie - when I watched this the first time all I could think is “How the eff does Malcolm remember everything Pete just said?” Maybe it’s just me but I would need Pete to go 1-2 words at a time. And slowly. ....maybe Malcolm took Latin in school?

24:06 - Oh so all the killers this season are also going to accuse Malcolm of being a killer and/or evil.

34:40 - Damn. I wish the team walked in right as Malcolm was screaming “the power of Christ compels you!!!”.

35:15 - I. Love. This. Gil screaming on the phone is everything. Him going to bat for JT is everything. Malcolm saying “This is bad”?!? *chef’s kiss*. ISTG Malcolm’s been scolded by Gil when Gil is that mad at some point during his teen years.

35:53 - “I’ll take care of it.” JT. Is. My. Hero. What an absolute king. He’s going to take care of it, even though he’s terrified, because he needs to protect his family. Not just Tally and the baby. But little sister Dani too. <3 My heart is full.

36:11 - ....okay so not to ruin a totally beautiful and profound scene but every time I’ve watched this scene JT doing that lean into the wall is very weird to me. Because he turns to face the camera. If he just slid down the wall or just leaned his head against the wall - it wouldn’t have felt so strange. It honestly distracts me from the scene. Every. Time.

36:18 - This is hot garbage. I don’t even want to rewatch this scene because it makes me so upset.

37:51 - I understand where Jessica is coming from but I also think she’s being a moron. I will say though, I respect the hell out of Gil for walking away when asked. A lot of men wouldn’t but he respects Jessica even if he doesn’t like what he’s hearing. So he left because she asked him to.

39:00 - If this isn’t a red flag for Jessica about Ainsley’s mental health idk what is.

39:25 - Poor Malcolm looks like he’s on the verge of tears here. :( I’m genuinely scared that Malcolm is becoming suicidal. He’s reaching the level of depressed and guilt where I think it’s a possibility. I genuinely think he’d rather kill himself to stop his guilt and suffering than to admit it to Gil, Jessica, JT, or Dani. ...for legal reasons he definitely can’t tell Gabrielle.

40:00 - Sooooo Martin is finally suggesting that it was his idea to dispose of the body. I hope it’s the truth.

40:05 - Martin is a piece of trash. He really needs to stop playing with Malcolm’s head. It’s literally killing Malcolm.

40:50 - Oh. SHIT. Malcolm just clapped back hard. I am so so proud of him. ...also concerned about this deep anger in him though.

41:46 - I swear - if we don’t get a Gil and Martin face-off when Martin breaks out, I will lose my mind. It’s one of the top things I want from this show. A Martin+Gil showdown.

Ok. So I kind of loved this episode? Even though there were...many plot holes and things that annoyed me about it. Is it just me or has this season felt much darker than last season so far? It makes sense given last season’s finale but it’s still thrown me a bit.

BUT I CAN NOT WAIT FOR 2x3. That promo. Ugh. <3 <3 We’re going to get traumatized teen!Malcolm content and I’m a sick bastard who is living for it.

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salexectrian-heir · 4 years ago

Text

messages from last night update

chapter below the cut | ao3 link

✧ Oracle ✧

SEPT 1ST 4:57 AM

[Joker] Hi

[Joker] Story time

[✧ Oracle ✧] i see yusuke returned ur phone

[Joker] Aha, yeah. After swearing on my life I would not make any more poor life choices

[Joker] I assume that was your doing

[✧ Oracle ✧] ur welcome

[Joker] Hmm well I might not have sworn hard enough

[✧ Oracle ✧] ???

[Joker] bet you 500 yen you can’t guess where I woke up this morning (without hacking my location)

[✧ Oracle ✧] oh god akira… jail?

[✧ Oracle ✧] again??!

[Joker] No

[Joker] Better

[✧ Oracle ✧] !!?

[Joker] On the catwalk of the auditorium

[✧ Oracle ✧] BRUH

[✧ Oracle ✧] didnt yusuke like walk u home???

[Joker] He did

[Joker] I just didn’t stay home after

[✧ Oracle ✧] (-_-;)・・・

[✧ Oracle ✧] but don’t they lock up the buildings at night….

[Joker] ...

[✧ Oracle ✧] also i’m p sure catwalks are at least fifteen meters in the air??

[Joker] ...

[Joker] I am surprisingly still very dexterous while intoxicated

[✧ Oracle ✧] o m g

[✧ Oracle ✧] what possessed u to sneak out of the dorm, pick a lock, scale scaffolding, and fall asleep on a metal beam is / literally / beyond me

[Joker] Me too, It's all very...fuzzy after getting back to the dorms

[Joker] Maybe I was a cat in a past life

[✧ Oracle ✧] cat!kira

[✧ Oracle ✧] congrats u now have a fursona to add to your growing list of ‘sonas

[Joker] Cat!kira go prrr?

[✧ Oracle ✧] HAHAH a self-drag?

[✧ Oracle ✧] Someone truly is hungover and regretting his life choices

[Joker] Jokes aside, all that flexibility training I did in hs apparently paid off

[Joker] I have no new bruises or injuries that I am aware of so I made it up in one piece. Somehow.

[✧ Oracle ✧] wait hold up I thot all that “training” u’d say u were doing was just like horny akira code for “going to mess around with Sumi after school”

[✧ Oracle ✧] don’t tell me u actually were doing gymnastics with her that whole time

[Joker] Okay

[✧ Oracle ✧] ????

[Joker] You literally just told me not to tell you

[✧ Oracle ✧] but was i right?! i NEED to kno if i was right

[Joker] Haha yes and no

[Joker] We did both

[Joker] is typing...

[✧ Oracle ✧] oKAY OKAY OKAY NO DETAILS (SAVE THOSE FOR ANN)

[✧ Oracle ✧] JUST CONFIRMATION THANK U next

[Joker] You have written fanfic more explicit than anything I could ever tell you I’ve done, AND I PROOF READ IT FOR YOU

[✧ Oracle ✧] ヽ(•//д//•)ノ [ok true]

[✧ Oracle ✧] but

[✧ Oracle ✧] ヽ(•̀//д//•́)ノ

[Joker] Ik Ik, I’m teasing. I won’t corrupt your virginal ears

[✧ Oracle ✧] /anyway/ people r gonna be mad jealous when they find out u dated an olympic gymnast

[Joker] She wasn’t one when we dated though so technically I didn’t

[Joker] She found out she qualified shortly before we went back to being just friends

[Joker] I think we’re both much happier this way

[✧ Oracle ✧] Obviously. you still talk to her??

[Joker] Yeah

[Joker] We caught up before the semester started

[Joker] She said she was nervous, but that’s to be expected when you’re on the global stage. Aside from that she’s fitting in really well with her new teammates. She just wishes Kasumi could have been a part of it

[✧ Oracle ✧] </3

[Joker] Yeah :( </3

[Joker] But she’s good

[Joker] Still calls me senpai though...which idk how to feel about that

[✧ Oracle ✧] lol its ~cute~

[Joker] Hmm leaning towards don’t think so

[✧ Oracle ✧] “oh ~senpai~ you’ll still watch me compete in the olympics on TV right?”

[Joker] ...did you listen in on the call

[✧ Oracle ✧] no

[Joker] “no,” she lied like a liar (I know you still have my phone bugged damn it)

***

The Phantom Thieves of Cats

SEPT 1ST 5:01 AM

[✧ Oracle ✧] *kicks down the door to the thieves den*

[✧ Oracle ✧] INARI U FAILED

[✧ Oracle ✧] GUESS WHERE AKIRA IS

[✧ Oracle ✧] (hint: not where he’s supposed 2 be)

[Fox] Preposterous! He was safely returned to his dorm room. I personally put him to bed.

[Panther] you stayed over in their dorm room Fox… isn’t he in there w/you??

[Fox] is typing...

[Fox] Ah. It appears that I am in his bed and Akira is indeed missing. I was on the floor when we went to sleep. I have no recollection of this transfer.

[Fox] I have awoken Ryuji but all he has done is throw his possessions at me in an attempt to silence my “pestering” so I do not think he will be of any help in this situation.

[Joker] Don’t bother with him Fox. He isn’t responsive until at least 9am after a night out.

[Joker] Also, why aren’t the rest of you sleeping?

[Panther] Joker! you’re alive!!! are you okay???????

[Joker] Define okay

[✧ Oracle ✧] *cackles*

[Panther] where are you?!?

[Joker] You aren’t going to guess?

[Panther] jail?

[Fox] Please let it not be true your detective arrested you last night, and you are suffering in incarceration as we type.

[Joker] Why is jail everyone’s first guess? I was only arrested once!

[Joker] Fuck

[Joker] Also, he is not “my” detective

[Fox] is typing…

[✧ Oracle ✧] u sure about that

[Joker] Oh no

[✧ Oracle ✧] pls reread our messages from last night

[Joker] Oh GOD

[✧ Oracle ✧] *cackles louder*

[✧ Oracle ✧] i can’t wait to hear what inari is about to dish out

[Panther] wait what did akira say to you @ ✧ Oracle ✧?!

[Joker] Futaba please *softly* don’t

[Fox] Last night I had to relieve you of your phone before you texted the detective prince incriminating evidence of your state of inebriation and infatuation. You were adamant that you had to send him a picture of a cat as a token of your feelings, which I objected as the image you selected was not flattering of the cat. I may have just met you a few days ago, so please tell me if I am overstepping my bounds, but I do not think sending hideous pictures of cats is a wise way of winning over this man’s affections.

[✧ Oracle ✧] pls show us the picture he wanted to send

[Fox]

[Panther] Hahahah oh akira

[✧ Oracle ✧]

[Joker] …

[Joker] I’ll be staying at this undisclosed location until further notice

[Panther] no Akira!!! seriously where are you??

[Joker] the_view_is_nice.image

[Panther] :O

[Panther] how did you get up that high???

[✧ Oracle ✧] gymnastics training

[Panther] huh? i didn’t know you were a gymnast Akira!!

[✧ Oracle ✧] im sure he’ll tell u all about it now

[Joker] -____-

[Fox] I cannot believe I failed my first mission as the Chosen One.

[✧ Oracle ✧] i can

[Fox] is typing…

[Panther] @ ✧ Oracle ✧!!!!!!

[✧ Oracle ✧] kek

[Fox] I am an utter disgrace to this friendship. How can I even call this a friendship when I have done nothing but leech from the kindness you all have bestowed upon me. How will I ever be able to show my face among you, those whom I have failed. I must atone for the shame I have wrought.

[Joker] You didn’t fail @ Fox, and you are not a disgrace. It was my fault. I was the shitty friend in this situation. I’ll make it up to everyone, and to you Fox. I’ll think of something.

[Fox] Food would suffice.

[Joker] Dinner for a week it is.

[Fox] Delightful!

[Panther] wow he got over that fast

[✧ Oracle ✧] welcome to being friends with Inari, the path of forgiveness is through his stomach

***

✧ Oracle ✧

SEPT 1st 5:07 AM

[Joker] Slight problem

[Joker] I actually have no idea how to get down

[✧ Oracle ✧] u really r part f*cking cat

***

Regrettably, some of his life choices last night did him no favors.

Mistakes had been made. Limits and Lessons had been learned. Unfortunately the hard way.

After miraculously finding a way down off the catwalk without injury into his dorm shower and a fresh set of clothes, Akira managed to show up for his opening shift at Big Bang Blends ten minutes early.

Haru took one look at him when he slinked into the kitchen and immediately said, “Oh dear.”

Akira spun a damp curl around his finger. “That bad, huh?”

“Uhm.” Haru offered him a wobbling, pitiful smile. “You kind of look like how I would imagine a cat that got caught outside in the rain might feel.”

He let out a self-deprecating chuckle and wandered over to the apron rack. “Fair comparison.” Selecting his off its hook, he pulled it over his head. “I’d add on that the cat also got stuck in a tree and developed a splitting migraine.”

“I know just the thing that’ll sort you out!” Haru hovered over to Akira’s side. “Whenever I--” she paused, considering her words with a finger to her lip, “overindulge,” she settled on with a giggle, “I’ll make myself a cup of my special tea. It instantly clears my head and calms my stomach.”

Akira’s stomach rolled unpleasantly. “ Special tea ?”

Haru nodded vigorously. “It works like a charm! And I’m not just saying that because I drink it, I have a friend--well, I might be overstepping if I were to call him that, we aren’t that close,” Haru sighed, “but I make it for him too when he occasionally stumbles in here in a similar state.”

“Do I want to know what’s in it?” he asked hesitantly.

Haru beamed brightly at him. “No.”

Akira groaned.

“I promise it’ll work,” Haru said, wandering out of the kitchen and over to her collection of loose leaf teas that were displayed in clear, sealed jars behind the counter. She called back to him, “You’ll perk up in no time!”

He gave her a weak thumbs up.

Picking up the task list from the side of the walk in freezer, he resigned himself to his fate of ingesting whatever the fuck concotion Haru was going to feed him. It couldn’t have been worse than what he drank last night. In all honesty, he would have been feeling way, way, worse if Yusuke hadn’t convinced him to drink so much water when they got back. Akira would like to think the fact he wasn’t curled up on the floor in the fetal position on the cafe floor was also thanks in part to the Amazake he had chosen to drink the night prior too. But the thought of the non-alcoholic sake made his stomach churn harder so he stopped that train of thought immediately, and focused on setting up the dining area. His head felt like it weighed five pounds heavier than it usually did, which made moving it a bit of a hassle, but he had the opening sheet to finish before the cafe opened and he’d damn himself if he didn’t deliver.

What his stomach did seem safe to think about was luck stats, and that maybe Futaba was onto something when she had made that off hand comment in their chat last night. Akira was incredibly lucky to have landed two bosses ( three if he counted Sojiro but the man was more like a father than he ever was a boss) who cared more about his well being as a person than as a source of cheap labor. Watching Haru make his tea as he flipped chairs down off the tables only amplified his guilt of showing up before her utterly and unmistakably hungover.

Being the sloppy friend did not sit well with Akira.

He swore to himself as he pushed in the last chair he took down that this was the first and last time he ever did anything as stupid and irresponsible as he did last night. Not to mention, his luck wouldn’t last if he kept this up. He’d make it up to everyone somehow, and Haru in particular now. He wouldn’t let his current state impact his work.

And once he stopped feeling like dogshit and could form a coherent argument, he was going to have a long, hard talk with whichever one of his personas decided it would be great fucking idea to drink so much, scale the interior of the theatre, and fall asleep on a steel beam no greater than sixty centimeters in width. Because honestly, what the fuck ?

Even In high school, his “peak stupidity” years, he hadn’t done anything as dumb as this.

Okay, well, that was a lie.

He had done a lot of stupid, often illegal things (see: petty theft, breaking and entering) in high school that to him, had been justified. He was quite gifted at stealing and knew his way around a lock with professional proficiency, and he had gotten away with it unscathed for a very long time.

Except for the whole getting arrested and put on probation thing , which ironically had been for a crime he didn’t actually commit.

“It’s ready!”

“Thanks, Haru.”

Akira swung by the to-go counter reaching for the mystery tea waiting for him and continued on.

After thirty minutes of sipping on whatever miracle cure Haru brewed as he checked off the morning set up tasks, it fucking kicked in. The mind fog and nausea disappeared almost entirely, settling his stomach enough that he was able to keep down some Advil and melon pan with Haru for breakfast. Akira could handle the headache until the medicine took over.

He just couldn’t move too fast or too sudden (Akira was still a little too off balance for that), or turn his neck sharply (thanks to what he had drunkenly decided to use as a pillow the night before). But he powered through it as he set about stocking the various coffee beans in their containers.

The last item on the task sheet they completed together. Prepping the food items for the pastry case with all of the baked goods Haru had made the night before. In addition to mochi, goma dango, and other pastries one would expect to enjoy with tea and coffee, there was always some kind of cake. Meticulously and lovingly decorated, sliced by hand that Haru showcased in her cake display. Today’s selection was a daring one, a pink lemonade cake with delicately applied ombre pink frosting and topped with candied lemon slices that were evenly spaced, each sitting on an artful dollop of whipped white icing.

“Did you want to try a piece, Akira-kun?”

Akira glanced over from where he was sliding a tray of nerikiri into the case. A plate with a modest slice was being extended to him. Eyeing the color up close, his stomach protested. Apparently still a little too hungover to test the limits of his digestive tract with such an extravagant confection.

“It looks amazing, but I think I’ll stick to the melon pan this time Haru.”

“I can always save it for la--”

A sharp series of knocks interrupted their conversation.

From his position squatting on the floor, he checked the time on his phone. There were still five minutes until the cafe officially opened for the day. Haru had warned him there were always a few people who showed up early and failed to read the sign.

“I’ll get it,” Akira sighed, sliding the door of the pastry case shut. “You finish with the cake. I’ll handle our impatient caffeine addict.”

“Oh don’t worry the cake’s all done, I just cut the last slice.” Haru waved Akira off. “I can get him.”

Him?

He hastily straightened up, brushing a few stray sugary crumbs off his apron and immediately looked over at the entrance. Every muscle in his body seized up. Waiting outside the glass doors was one impeccably dressed and restless looking Akechi Goro. Akechi rolled his shoulder, adjusting the strap of his messenger bag while he checked his phone.

The message Akira sent Akechi last night intrusively echoed in his head the moment the former detective looked up and locked eyes with him. Pocketing his phone into his suit jacket (it had to be custom fit, because there was no way it could have cut his figure that well without tailoring), he lifted his chin ever so slightly. Akechi’s expression twisted wickedly into something that short circuited Akira’s brain.

Oh.

Fuck .

A war waged between two primal instincts in Akira’s body at the sight, the overwhelming urge to run in the face of danger clashing with a tidal wave of lust. The rush coursed through his veins, freezing him in place. Much like prey that had been cornered, his heart began to thrash against his ribs.

Akechi’s grin was sharp and salacious, a stark contrast to the innocent and winsome smile that the T.V. ready Prince so often wore. Akira didn’t know him all that well (... yet ), but God , that smile just seemed to suit Akechi so much better.

Akira got to witness this side of Akechi knowing it was reserved for only him for about two whole seconds before Akechi’s face changed, shifting into his composed, manufactured doll-like mask when Haru made it over to let him in.

The transformation gave Akira something pretty close to whiplash.

Really arousing whiplash.

“Good morning Akechi-san,” she greeted him, holding the door open with a warm smile.

“And same to you, Okumura-san,” he returned politely, stepping past her and into the cafe proper. “Pardon my early arrival, I have quite the busy day planned unfortunately and was hoping to get a jump start.” He brushed aside a few strands of hair that had fallen into his eyes with a gloved hand. “I hope your morning has been going well.”

“It’s barely started,” Akira muttered, reaching for a to-go cup to start Akechi’s order to busy himself with so he wouldn’t stare at the breathtakingly handsome man in front of him. His heart needed a break already.

Instead of writing Akechi’s name, he doodled a pair of handcuffs with the bold letters A and G within the negative space in each cuff (Akira admired his work for a brief moment and thought Yusuke would be proud). He marked the drink as a caramel latte, recalling what Haru had put down on his cup yesterday. Then proceeded to make a pour over instead.

Haru flipped the sign to open, and then said, “Very well, so far! I tried out a new cake recipe, you have to try it.”

Akechi laughed, and Akira’s stomach clenched--but this time in an all too pleasant way. Akira diverted his attention from grinding the beans for his drink to watch the detective ( Fuck! ) The sound was light and lyrical, and after what Akira witnessed… sounded totally out of place coming out of the same mouth that had held that smug, voracious grin a moment ago.

“As much as I would love to, I must decline. I cannot get into the habit of having cake for breakfast.”

“Then you must take a slice with you!” Haru walked past him and over to her cake display, lifting the glass lid and taking a piece out.

“Alright, if you insist,” Akechi conceded, coming to a stop in front of Akira, who moved on to scooping the grounds into the damp filter. The proximity made it near impossible to keep his eyes off the detective, but Akira somehow managed it, forcing himself to pay attention to his pour.

“Actually, would you mind if I borrowed your barista for a moment, Okumura-san?”

Akira snapped his head up from his preparations and met Akechi’s eyes once more ( God damnit! ). Which was a really dumb idea as a shock of pain spiked down his neck. He bit the inside of his cheek to stop from wincing.

A dangerous glint appeared in that maroon gaze that catapulted Akira’s thundering heart into his throat.

“Is he in trouble?” Haru peered over her shoulder from where she was packing a bright pink slice of cake into a to-go container.

“He might be,” Goro murmured just loud enough for Akira to hear, then broke their eye contact to address Haru, “I assure you, nothing of the sort.” He smiled that infuriatingly fake smile at her, complete with an innocent tilt of his head. “I just need to ask him a few questions, in private.”

Haru shot Akira a questioning stare, Do you need me to say no?

He shrugged nonchalantly, or as nonchalantly as someone who was having a very intense internal meltdown over an insanely attractive man could, and said, “It’s fine, Haru.” He continued to pour the scalding water in a circular motion over the coffee grounds in the filter, doing his best to quiet all the alarm bells in his head.

His response must have come off convincingly enough because Haru nodded and said, “Well, I can’t see why that would be a problem.” She hesitantly returned Akechi’s smile. “But I will need him back in a bit when the morning rush hits.”

“This shouldn’t take too long,” Akechi turned and gestured to a table in the corner of the cafe--far away enough from the counter that Haru couldn’t possibly overhear their conversation. Then under his breath he added, “As long as Kurusu-kun doesn’t resist, that is.”

Akira cleared his throat, willing his throbbing heart to drop back into its cage between his ribs. “Go on, I”ll join you when I’m finished.”

Akechi nodded, leaving the yen for his coffee on the counter and sauntered away. Akira topped off the pour over and transferred the liquid into the to-go cup. On his way around the counter he snagged what was left of his miracle tea and took a swig. He hoped it would replenish his mental reserves to handle the upcoming verbal sparring match he was sure he was about to walk into.

Akechi, in his immaculate glory, was leaning back in his chair languidly with one dark clad leg crossed. He watched Akira closely as he wandered over with their drinks. Akira suddenly felt incredibly out classed and underdressed in his usual cardigan-v neck combo he had going on compared to Akechi’s tan suit jacket and pressed button down shirt.

He slid into the seat opposite Akechi and pushed his coffee across the table. Akechi nodded in thanks and brought it to his lips.

Akira pretended he didn’t watch the way Akechi’s throat moved as he swallowed his first sip.

The detective hummed approvingly. “Black.”

“The way you actually like it,” Akira said with a knowing smile. “Don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me.”

“Is it now,” Akechi chuckled darkly against the lid still pressed to his lips. “Sadly, my coffee preferences are the extent of where your knowledge of me ends.”

In the tenuous silence that descended after that statement, they sipped at their respective drinks. Gazes not once wavering off one another.

“I assume you know why I’m here,” Akechi finally said, cutting the tension.

“When I said ‘come get me ’ I didn’t mean ‘corner me at work ’,” Akira hissed over his cup of miracle tea.

He could think of many other, far more superior places he would have loved to be cornered by Akechi in. But Akira kept that part to himself.

The detective leaned forward, resting his chin on his fist. “You do realize if this were a real investigation and I caught you as unaware as you were this morning, you being at work with your Boss present wouldn’t have deterred me.”

Akira stole a glance at Haru, who was busy writing the specials of the day on their blackboard, then drained the rest of his tea.

Akechi followed his gaze and continued on in a saccharine tone that contradicted the alluring smile his mouth had split into again, “But since it’s not, I highly doubt you want an audience for when I bend you over the counter and take what I want from you.”

Akira promptly choked.

Any lingering doubt Akira may have had about Akechi’s preferences evaporated. Akechi knew exactly what he was saying. He had to have, right? There was no heterosexual explanation for that response.

Point to Akechi, he thought, accepting the fact his face was probably as red as the flowering plant hovering three inches above his head.

“How considerate,” Akira managed to rasp once he got his tea to go down his throat correctly. Swallowing burned like a bitch. Now he had to deal with a sore throat on top of the rebellion being staged by his heart and stomach, and the leftover vertigo from his hangover.

“Will you hand it over now?” the detective asked with a hint of sugar coated venom.

“Hate to disappoint, but you’ll be walking away empty handed this morning. I left it in my room.”

Which wasn’t a lie. In his haste to recover from last night’s ��escapade and get to work on time, he hadn’t thought to grab the handkerchief. The last thing he expected was this.

“I think you’re sending me mixed signals.”.

“Am I?”

“You tell me you want one thing, then act like you didn’t expect it to come to fruition when I follow through on it so I’m curious,” Akechi titled his head and his hair shifted, shining ethereally in the early morning sun streaming through the window. “What is it you really want, Kurusu?”

For you to fuck my brains out, Akira thought. But admitting that so bluntly to Akechi’s face felt like defeat. So, he kept the stupid illusion of their game going and leaned in.

“I want to see if the Detective Prince is really as good at his job as the rumors say he is.” Akira mirrored the detective’s head tilt and offered him a crooked grin. “I won’t be that easy.”

“If you want me to physically remove it from your person, then I must insist from this point forward you carry it with you. If every time I corner you, you… aren’t ready,” Akechi’s smile grew wider, “then doesn’t that defeat the purpose? And unlike you it seems, my time and attention is limited.”

“Rude.” Akira mimicked the detective’s posture, dropping his chin into his palm. “My time is limited too. I just can’t have you stalking me at work. And--” what Akira really meant to say next was , I cannot possibly work and retain my sanity with you watching me like that all the time. But instead said, “--Think of Okumura-san’s business. You’ll scare away her customers.”

Akechi shot him an unimpressed look. “Somehow I highly doubt that.”

Wow. Cocky bastard.

"Well,” Akira said, changing tactics by imbuing a little bit of truth, “I imagine you can relate to not wanting to be distracted at work, with your fans and all.”

“They can be...rather inconvenient at times, yes.” Akechi studied him intently. “Alright then. Let’s make a deal.”

“Making a deal with the enemy? Akechi,” Akira feigned a gasp, “don’t tell me you’re a dirty cop.”

The detective snorted into his coffee. “I’m going to choose not to entertain that comment and suggest we establish some ground rules.”

“I thought rules didn’t exist in investigations,” Akira said mischievously.

“Like I previously stated, good thing this isn’t one, then?”

They shared a private smile.

“I propose this,” Akechi said, straightening up, hands clasped on the table. “From this point on, you will carry it on your person. I will catch you off guard within the next two weeks and take back what is rightfully mine. Our working hours are exempt from this. Obviously, the common spaces in the dormitory will be too by default. Should you ever need me as your RA, that will come first and foremost, I take my duties seriously. As should you. I think you’ll find these terms agreeable and respectful of each other’s time. Unless there are any other locations you want to deem off limits.”

Akira made a show of considering Akechi’s words, tapping a finger against his cheek. This was literally the most drawn out, intellectually charged foreplay Akira had ever engaged in but he couldn’t say it didn’t excite him. In fact, there was something exhilarating about it.

“No. Everywhere else is fair game.”

“Really?” Akechi inquired, grin breaching that rapacious territory again. “Be careful what you agree to, Kurusu.”

Akira shrugged and leaned back.

“So,” Akechi prompted, “you won’t say no, will you?”

Of course he was going to accept. So Akira simply said, “I think I’ll hold on to your handkerchief.” And then held out his hand. It felt like the right thing to do.

“Hah, excellent,” Akechi smiled and shook it firmly. The leather was soft and warm as it dragged against Akira’s palm. “Otherwise, I will be forced to order a room inspection and somehow I doubt that is how you want this to play out.”

“If you are inspecting the room while I’m in it, then I might be.”

Right after the words left his mouth, the logical part of his brain that wasn’t stuck on being hungover and horny on main finally spoke up and reminded him of the very important, expulsion worthy, major cockblock that was currently being housed in his room: Morgana.

But then Akechi’s mouth upturned devilishly, and suddenly Akira decided he’d cross that furry bridge when he got to it.

“Well, then. I must be off. Thank you for the coffee,” Akechi said, dropping Akira’s hand as he stood up. “I have an interview taping in…” he checked his phone and sighed, “just over an hour. Hopefully the trains are on schedule.”

Akira tilted his head. “Still doing those?”

“Yes, keeping up appearances on behalf of the precinct,” Akechi explained, “I may be officially on hiatus as a full time student, but I still pick up cases from time to time. The media wants to know how I balance it all.”

“Ah. Explains the get up.”

Akechi bristled at the comment, his nose wrinkling ( cute! ) and brows drawing down as he straightened his already perfectly straight tie. “What’s wrong with my outfit?”

“Nothing,” Akira teased with a lilt in voice, “It’s nice, maybe a little stuffy.” He deliberately looked Akechi up and down. “But I bet you’d look better out of it, judging by what I saw you wear the last time you showed up here.” He couldn’t fight the coy smile his mouth twisted into even if he tried. “If you’re looking to show off, those shorts from yesterday would do a better job.”

The call out was meant to fluster Akechi, but the detective’s face remained remarkably even toned. Flawless even. Too flawless.

Could he be... he's totally wearing makeup.

Akira lifted a brow pointedly.

That did the trick, earning Akira a heated glare before Akechi turned his head sharply away. The movement roughly shifted the hair around his face, revealing a sliver of skin previously hidden. To Akira’s rapidly dawning delight, the detective’s neck was rapidly turning pink.

“Shut. Up. Kurusu.”

Oh, so Akechi blushes all the way down when he’s flustered. Fascinating. Akira filed the thought away for… later.

For totally innocent purposes.

Totally.

Akira stood up and slipped in front of Akechi, demanding to be looked at. Giddy with his new discovery. “Oh? What’s this? He can dish it out but can’t take it?”

Akechi’s eyes flashed as he brought himself up to his full height, and stepped into Akira’s space. Scowling down the few centimeters he had on him, he forced Akira to take a step back. “You,” he said lowly, continuing to move forward, making Akira walk backwards until his back hit the counter, “are a brat .”

“Just figuring that out now, detective?” Akira smirked. “I thought that was obvious.”

From this close Akira could see just how gorgeous the detective’s eyes truly were. Flecks of light red dotted the center most part of his eyes, giving off the illusion of glittering in the light. He was close enough that if Akira leaned in a fraction more their noses would touch.

A very polite, soft cough came from somewhere on Akira's right.

The detective’s eyes widened in shock. He quickly put space between them again and turned to face Haru, who was standing in between the kitchen and the counter area looking anywhere but at them.

Akira owed her now a second apology.

“I wish both of you a good day,” Akechi gracefully recovered and turned on his heel. He flexed his shoulders as he opened the door but stopped with one foot out the door.

“Oh, and Kurusu-kun?” Akechi turned halfway to face him, “Be sure to check your email this afternoon.”

And then he was gone.

***

It’s Always Snack Time in Tokyo

SEPT 1ST 8:00 AM

[Takuto Maruki] Hello! I was going to wait until I saw you in person, but I can’t resist telling you the good news! I submitted the paperwork to bring on an official research assistant. The chair of the department should grant me an answer by the end of the week. The position is yours once I get the documented approval.

[Takuto Maruki] That is, if you are still interested in conducting research with me like you did over the summer

[Akira Kurusu] I am

[Takuto Maruki] Even more wonderful!

[Akira Kurusu] Won’t it be unethical if you don’t let other people apply for the position though?

[Akira Kurusu] You can’t play favoritism

[Takuto Maruki] I, fortunately, get to make the rules in this situation and I wrote that I could appoint the position to any student that met certain criteria and showed promise in the field

[Akira Kurusu] You literally wrote the position description so that only I fit that criteria, didn’t you

[Takuto Maruki] You would be correct! :D

[Takuto Maruki] So if you’re free and want to get a jump start on assisting, I was hoping to recruit you this upcoming Friday to proctor an exam.

[Akira Kurusu] An exam? The second week of class? Savage Sensei

[Takuto Maruki] It is a 300 level that meets M/W/F so the curriculum moves fast. This cohort in particular is grasping the concepts at a much faster rate than the other two I teach for this course.

[Akira Kurusu] When is it? I open the cafe Friday mornings

[Takuto Maruki] 2pm

[Akira Kurusu] Okay, I can make that work. I’ll be there

[Takuto Maruki] Wonderful! :)

***

The Phantom Thieves of Cats

SEPT 1st 11:12 AM

[Skull] yo i am not back readin any of that

[Skull] wat did i miss?

✧ Oracle ✧ Changed Skull to Edgelord Can’t Read

[Edgelord Can’t Read] I CAN EFFIN’ READ!!!

[Edgelord Can’t Read] i said i wasn’t gonna, not that i cant big difference

[Edgelord Can’t Read] ur the one who cant read

[✧ Oracle ✧] wow gr8 comeback edgelord im so offended. what r we 7yrs old

[Edgelord Can’t Read] shuddup

***

Gotta Go Fast

SEPT 1st 11:28 AM

[Skull] BRO A CATWALK?! WTF?!?

[Skull] how the eff did u get down??

[Joker] My amazing cat-like reflexes

[Skull] bro

[Skull] how u feelin btw

[Joker] You know that feeling you get when you’re about to go over the hill on a rollercoaster?

[Joker] Like that

[Skull] oof

[Skull] ill make u my ma’s soup when ur shifts over, its the best for this kinda shit

[Joker] Why is everyone being so understanding with me today

[Skull] were ur friends man we gotchu

[Joker] alsdjflskf

[Skull] uh did the rollercoaster drop or smth

[Joker] Haha no

[Joker] Thanks Ryuji

***

The Phantom Thieves of Cats

SEPT 1st 2:01 PM

[Edgelord Can’t Read] UH HOLY SHIT EVERYONE CHECK UR EMAILS

[Panther] what?? why??

[✧ Oracle ✧] im surprised u even read ur email

[Joker] Oh.

[Joker] Fuck.

***

To: Shujin Hall_5th Floor

From: Akechi Goro; Niijima Makoto

CC: Kawakami Sadayo

Subject: Violation of Dormitory Rules

Dear Fifth Floor Residents of Shujin Hall,

This is a friendly reminder that there is a strict No Pets Policy in this Residence Hall. A contraband item, a can of pet food, was located on the floor inside the trash room on Friday night. As such, we will be conducting room inspections beginning tomorrow, starting with rooms located in the Girls’ Wing. Let this be an example to all that the consequences for violating this rule will be termination of their dormitory agreement and the loss of their on campus housing status. Any additional charges will be determined by the Residence Hall Director, Kawakami Sadayo.

If you have any further information on this subject, please feel free to contact us.

We hope you have a wonderful rest of your weekend.

Sincerely,

Your Resident Assistants

Akechi Goro

University of Tokyo | Class of 20XX Criminal Justice / Psychology Major | Philosophy Minor [email protected]

Niijima Makoto

University of Tokyo | Class of 20XX Criminal Justice Major | Psychology & Law Minor [email protected]

#akeshu #shuake #akeshuake #goro akechi #persona 5 royal #persona 5 #akira kurusu #goro akechi x akira kurusu

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junseotual · 4 years ago

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bye bye 2020, hello 2021 !!

happy new year everyone!! there’s a lot of people i want to thank for making last year so much more bearable so i tried writing some messages for some of my dearest mutuals this year as well!! (keyword tried because i absolutely cannot put my feelings and thoughts into words. i love you all though and thank you so so so much!!!)

@angelhyunjin : angi!! i know you’re not on here anymore (actually i just found out . i ran to twt to find u as quick as i could!!) but it felt weird not?? putting you on here because you WERE a big part of my year!! i was always excited to chat with you and i rlly rlly loved (still do) seeing your art and your dance covers i can’t believe how talented at both you are!! you are really really lovely and even if it’s been a while i hope you know i still think of you and hope you’re doing well!! this year might have been hard but i hope 2021 will be much nicer to you because you definitely deserve it!! i love you!!

@cinanamon : stephie!! i think we haven’t talked in a while until we started suddenly bonding over minho but all is well that ends well because now we are the founders of a minho cult and that’s all i could hope for in life i think! we don’t talk that much but seeing your tags in all the minho posts is always a TIME i absolutely love reading them! thank you for being there to lose it over minho, always, but also for being there in general! you are really sweet and i do love to talk to u!! i also know you are a really good writer so i hope 2021 brings you lots of inspiration to write more!! (and i’ll finally catch up on your fics too! hehe) happy new year!!

@cocogoat : puppy !! i think we haven’t been friends for long actually and that sounds fake because that would mean there was a time i didn’t instinctively check your blog when i woke up in the morning (or the evening let’s be real)?? you are so! adorable and for what!!!!!! i really do love seeing you pop up in my phone notifs and reading your posts even if i dont have any idea what they’re saying half of the time unless it’s dgrp (i cannot believe i have a dgrp friend now. amazing i think i won) u are so funny and so cute and i’m really glad i got to know you because!! you’re such a nice friend that i! love! times can be hard but i hope 2021 is gentle with you because that is! what! you deserve! gentle pats and tight hugs! (maybe that’s why i associate ab6ix’s heaven with you it’s the gentle vibes) <3

@glossiers : miss bri i am in love w u that’s it. no i’m kidding that’s not it i have much more to say . i am in lov w u though #brillie2k21 i think. i think it’s been a surprisingly short time since we’ve actually started talking?? which is kinda crazy if u ask me because?? how the hell did i live my life without screaming BRIIIII whenever i see u on the dash like for real how . that sounds like a life so empty like. that would rlly be missing . something?? anyways u are a dear dear friend that i really really love and i’m sure you know that but i will keep saying it anyway! i’m sure i’m pretty annoying so thanks for putting up with me! and for talking to me! i feel like i’ve said it before but! you are a delight to see on the dash and i lovlovlov talking to u (and sending u pics of my cats, thank u for appreciating them). i still cannot believe u managed to convince yourself i was a hyeongjun stan though. hope i can be convincing enough to clear that up and leave no doubts in your brain this year. anyways i love you and i hope we can continue to be friends and talk even MORE this year!!!!!! happy new year ilu <3

@hwacinth : miss dia my sweet sweet floral nymph real life shirayuki and queen of urls! i am? so so so so so glad that we are friends you literally have my heart it is YOURS i can’t even try to claim it back!! you literally are shirayuki i don’t even know how to elaborate i think it’s just self-explanatory but you are just. such a sweet little sunshine!! it’s like you bring spring everywhere you go!! we could be in a middle of a metaphorical storm but when you appear the skies clear up and flowers bloom wherever you step and i cannot help but smile when i see you online!! thank you so so much for being my little ray of sunshine in these tough times! i hope to see even more of your posts this year!! don’t hesitate to live blog anything you watch in my dms if you feel like you’re posting too much (but i hope you never feel that way because you’re not . love seeing u live post it is absolutely amazing i won’t ever get tired of it)!! happy new year and i love you!! ps only 1 more hour until your birthday HAPPY BIRTHDAY DIA ILUUU <3 I HOPE YOU CAN HAVE A WONDERFUL ONE!! IM SENDING YOU CAKE TELEPATHICALLY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

@hwisgf : sorinaaaa! happy new year!! we don’t talk that much but it is always nice seeing you around! you are vv sweet and i really appreciate that, thank you for taking the time to talk to me sometimes!! you are also probably my only fantasy mutual?? which is terrible on one side because i think everyone should stan sf9 but that’s besides the point . i really do love the fact that i at least have u to talk to abt sf9 if need and i LOVE seeing u in love with hwi it is absolutely amazing. i am forever grateful for all the free hwi pics days too!! <3 i hope 2021 can be a year full of happiness for you!! (also that is also besides the point but @ fnc i want an sf9 cb announcement) ILY!! (and so does hwi)

@inkigayeo : miss vivi galaxy brain happy new year!! we only started talking recently but u do have my heart already!! i hope this year treats you well and that we can get to know each other more and be friends hehe!!!! <3 (my other wish is for u to stop breaking my heart with those fake titles. please . why should san NOT come back explain yourself .)

@jeongcheols : mimi . mimi mimi mimi im literally typing this as u are listening to that ten n dj stage ok now it’s kai ok anyways . ANYWAYS i am loving your sm concert live commentary . criminal is sounding amazing taemin is insane indeed (yes i took a break before coming back to writing this) i truly don’t know what to say?? n i have to keep watching the time so that i can scream HAPPY NEW YEAR into the mic in 14 minutes. but like?? i love you?? like. like for real i don’t know what i would’ve done without you?? also it’s weird writing this for tumblr instead of just in your messages (also i can’t focus with idea playing. idea soty). and i mean. you technically know all of this but like?? i can’t believe we’ve known each other for so long but also such a short time at the same time like. what. thank you for being my bestestest friend and my soulmat i don’t think i would’ve been able to remain sane this year (and last year too honestly) if it wasn’t for you?? thank you for always listening to my incoherent rants and i’m always so sorry for spamming you while you’re asleep i know you must wake up to like 150+ messages with absolutely no connection between them and they’re all just so random i truly don’t know how you manage to not get annoyed and to just stay with me all this time i’m- getting emotional. you had a terrible year, i know it! i really do!! and while it might not be looking too bright right now, i hope the universe hears me and treats you much better in 2021 because!! you deserve so much more!! you deserve the world, really!!! i love you!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (i would write more really but like what is there to say literally i’m just (your emoji)) i love you for real;;

@nakyngs : ele <3 happy new year!!!!!! we haven’t talked much this year but i do think of u a lot daily i hope you know that!! and i love u a lot! even if i still need to catch up on all your aus </3 i hope 2021 can be a fun and stress-free year for you!! and we should catch up sometime too!! ps i hope your fish are ok

@ncityzen : dear spring fairy!! i already sent you a new year’s message earlier today like what. 6 hours ago but! once again!! i really do hope you can leave the hard times behind in 2020 and only get the best things possible this new year!! i’m always very happy to see you appear on my dash and curious to see your life updates and your random literature-related mini-rants in the tags they are always very interesting to see!! so! hoping to see even more of that this year <3 i hope you know that i love you and i really care about you!!

@woojjongs : MISS IRI! i am screaming this very loud so hopefully u can hear me all the way in canada! okay i had to leave this one for last because i?? don’t really know how to start i’m just a pink glittery puddle with lil hearts flowing in it that is how i feel towards u right now . how does one think and how does one write down their thoughts coherently give me a second. this is going to be a mess maybe u shouldn’t read it (‘accidentally’ forgets to tag u). just know that i decided to play txt’s wishlist to write this and u might be confused by that but all u need to know is that it means i love you very much. OKAY so miss iri you are . such a wonderful pal i truly don’t know what i would’ve done without you like . it would feel so weird not seeing you around tumblr would be so so so so empty i don’t even think you can begin to imagine how empty i’d feel without you around here ksdjbskbds i absolutely adore you but we already knew that. i’m always super excited to see your gifsets and your nonsense!! be it your love for woojong or u missing lim jimin (play m.. 🔪) or your snoo brainrot or hating literally anyone on smtm or whatever else it might be i love it all!! you are so cute and adorable and talented and sweet and funny i cannot believe you also happen to be the prettiest person on earth too. how does that feel! anyways i love you so so so so so much? i keep telling you to hold back from committing crimes but i absolutely WOULD commit a crime for u i really do adore you!! i mean . how many groups did u make me stan . (ok actually i don’t think there’s that many. but STILL) i know i can be super annoying but thank u for taking the time to chat with me nonetheless!! i’m all over the place but . there’s times i come online literally just to check your blog nothing else! i hope we can continue to be friends this year too n perhaps talk more (or the same amount idk please tell me off when i’m too annoying)!! happy new year, i hope it holds wonderful things in store for u!!!!!! and we really are starting off great since victon comeback is approaching <3 (this got way too long i’m so sorry i’ll cut it off now before i write 10 pages)

@xiaocity : miss siya hello hello hello first of all i’m just so very glad that you’re back i l o v e you!!! i love seeing you around be it your gifs or your text posts which yes. i cannot properly understand half of the time but google is my best friend after all! you’re such a wonderful person and i’m just?? really glad to have you around like?? you feel kind of like a cousin i don’t always get to see but am always excited to talk to when i can? this might not make sense but. you are vvv cool and talented and funny and feel very like. reliable? i feel like i am not making any sense so like ignore me. what i’m saying is i really really like you a whole lot and i really hope we can talk even more in 2021!! happy new year, i hope it’s a wonderful one for you!!

@yunwoo : miss anna we haven’t been moots for that long and we haven’t talked much but u are vvv cute and i hope we can become (better) pals this year!! i’m looking forward to seeing u on the dash more often, hopefully!! happy new year <3

#happy new year everyone i love you all;;;; thank you again!! hope 2021 treats you all nicely!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!#there's like a few mutuals i rlly do appreciate but didn't really have much to say to/abt because we haven't really . talked #i really do love all of you though!!!!!!!!!!;;;;;

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ceealaina · 5 years ago

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Title: In My Dreams I Turn You On - Chapter 3 Collaborator Name: ceealaina Card Number: 3088 Link: AO3 Square Filled: A3 - Free Ship: WinterIron Rating: Explicit Major Tags: Alternate Universe - No Powers Summary: Tony’s crushing hard on his new massage therapist, but doesn’t want to be a sleazy businessman. Bucky’s crushing hard on his latest client, but doesn’t want to take advantage of him in a vulnerable position. So they handle it like any sane adults - pretend it’s not happening and refuse to discuss it. At least they both have terrible friends to help them through it. Word Count: 17,235 Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three

It had taken some doing, but with a quick rundown to Rhodey — who had fallen off the couch he’d laughed so hard — Sam had managed to talk Bucky into joining them at the gala. Tony was busy making the CEO rounds, hadn’t made his way over to them, or even spotted them, but they’d seen him once or twice. Bucky had sounded like he’d been punched in the gut the first time, eyes focusing in on Tony’s ass like they were laser targeted.

“Oh man,” Rhodey laughed, shaking his head as he sipped on his champagne. He patted Bucky on the back consolingly. “You’ve got it bad, huh?”

Bucky just whined, raking his hands through his hair. “He’s just so handsome,” he sighed, watching as Tony walked across the room.

Sam shook his head, pulling the champagne flute out of Bucky’s hand and knocking the rest of it back himself. “Okay, you’re cut off. Can’t go talk to him if you’re fall-down drunk.”

Bucky stared at him with wide eyes. “I can’t go talk to him!” he hissed.

Sam just shook his head, leaning into the arm Rhodey had around his waist and resting his head on his shoulder. “Jesus Christ,” he muttered. “I can’t believe this is the guy that Tony’s so in love with,” he added, body shaking when Rhodey burst out into loud laughter.

And that made Tony look over, eyes crinkling happily at the familiar sound of Rhodey’s laughter. And then he did a double take, eyes going absolutely enormous as he realized who they were standing with. Rhodey was still snickering as they watched Tony stammer out an excuse to the group of executives and practically stumble his way over to them.

“Hey,” he said, waving vaguely at Sam and Rhodey, sounding breathless. His eyes were trained on Bucky a small smile playing over his lips like he couldn’t believe he was there. “Hi,” he added before staring back and forth between the three of them. “You know each other?”

“Wait…” Bucky’s eyes shot over to where Sam and Rhodey were snickering loudly. “You know each other?”

They both looked utterly lost, and Rhodey took pity on them, elbowing Sam when he was laughing too hard to speak. “Tones, Tones, this--” He gestured dramatically at Bucky. “Is Sam’s best friend, Bucky.”

Tony’s eyes grew impossibly wider. “You’re Bucky??”

Rhodey choked on another snort of laughter. “And Bucky, this is my best friend, Tony. Stark.”

“See?” Tony yelped, turning on Rhodey because his brain couldn’t focus on the real issue at hand right now. “See, I told you to let me throw your wedding. This is what happens when you elope! I would have met him two years ago if you’d just had an actual wedding instead of eloping to Niagara like a couple tacky tourists.”

Bucky looked like he was maybe having a heart attack, it was hard to say for sure. “You said he was a mechanic,” he said, voice sounding strangled. “And then Sam started laughing, but I thought that meant he was a bad mechanic, not, you know… Not a mechanic.”

“Hey!” Tony protested. “I’m a mechanic! Wait, what do you mean, you thought I was a bad mechanic?”

“Oh no!” Bucky’s eyes went wide, mouth twisting into a grimace. “I’m sorry, I mean… I didn’t mean like that, I’m sure you’re a great mechanic.” He scrubbed a hand over his face and groaned. “You can’t be a worse mechanic than I am massage therapist,” he added.

Tony frowned at him. “What do you mean? You’re a great massage therapist! You’re amazing!”

“Yeah, so amazing that I’m spending half our sessions thinking about how bad I wanna fuck you,” he grumbled, before promptly choking on air as he realized exactly what he’d said. “I mean… Oh god.”

Standing forgotten beside them, Sam snorted again before leaning in close to Rhodey. “I think it’s gonna take awhile,” he told him. “We could probably come back.” He made a show of looking Rhodey up and down, licking his lips as his eyes lingered on Rhodey’s throat. “Wanna go… Refresh our drinks?” he offered, grinning when Rhodey nodded enthusiastically.

Tony was staring at Bucky in shock, still not fully processing what was happening right now, and Bucky immediately went into panic mode.

“I’m so sorry,” he said, not even noticing as Sam and Rhodey snuck off. “I… I’ll hand in my resignation immediately, that’s so inappropriate, oh my god.”

“No!” Tony said quickly, finally snapping back into focus. “No, it’s okay. You don’t have to quit. It’s fine!”

“It’s not fine! That’s such a breach of trust. You’re in a position of vulnerability, and… I mean, I know I didn’t do anything, but that’s still such an abuse of power, and --,”

He cut himself off abruptly as Tony suddenly started laughing, the sound closer to a giggle. Even in the midst of his panic, Bucky had the stray thought that the sound was absolutely adorable. He blinked at him.

“Are you… Are you laughing at me?”

Tony immediately clapped his hand over his mouth, shaking his head. “No!” he insisted, reaching out to grab Bucky’s wrist, like he thought he might try and leave. His hand was warm, fingers calloused, and Bucky nearly shivered at the contact. “I’m not… I’m not laughing at you. I’m just laughing because I was literally thinking the exact same thing. That it would be an abuse of power because, well… Technically I’m your employer.”

His eyes were trained on Bucky’s, but his thumb was tracing a delicate line over Bucky’s wrist, distracting him, and Bucky shook his head. “No, it’s different. You’re not my direct supervisor, and…” He trailed off as he realized exactly what Tony had said. “Wait, what?”

Tony shrugged, a soft smile playing over his lips. “Uh, surprise? Apparently we’re both a couple of clueless idiots.”

“Holy shit,” Bucky breathed. He twisted his wrist to catch Tony’s hand. “Okay,” he said, taking a deep breath and rubbing his prosthetic hand over his mouth. “Okay. Tony, I’m afraid that, effective immediately, I can no longer be your massage therapist. I’ll be transferring your file back over to Louise on Monday morning.” Then he grinned wide. “Now, can I please buy you a drink?”

Tony grinned, looking absolutely delighted. “You know the drinks are free, right?” he couldn’t resist teasing.

Bucky rolled his eyes. “I’ll make it up to you later.”

***

When Rhodey and Sam returned half an hour later, Bucky and Tony were sitting side-by-side at a table, barely-touched glasses between them, talking animatedly about something or other.

“Oh my god,” Sam groaned exaggeratedly, still a little giddy. “You two are still here? You didn’t immediately run off to ravish each other?”

Tony turned to give him a dirty look, and his eyes caught on their mussed clothing, Sam’s tie shoddily tied and crooked, the hickey on Rhodey’s neck. “Oh my god. Really?”

Rhodey just arched his eyebrows back at him. “Not the thing to focus on, Tones,” he returned, giving a pointed glance between the two of them as he curled an arm around Sam’s waist. “Are you two gonna kiss, or should we go... ‘refresh our drinks’ again?”

“God, I hate you,” Tony muttered. But then he looked over at Bucky, his eyes catching on his lips, delighting in the way that Bucky flushed a little and bit at his lower lip. Grinning, Tony shifted forward and curled his hand around Bucky’s neck, leaning in to kiss him gently. The gentleness lasted only a minute before Bucky was making a soft, desperate noise, tongue coming out to trace over the seam of his lips, and then Tony was kicking his chair away to stand up and move closer, tipping Bucky’s head back as his other hand threaded through his hair. Bucky moaned, and his hands moved to grip Tony’s hips, pulling him in close between his legs, neither of them seeming to notice that they were still in the middle of a party.

“There we go,” Rhodey said.

“Annnnd that’s our queue to leave,” Sam added, hauling Rhodey away. “Get a room!” he added over his shoulder.

Neither Bucky nor Tony seemed to actually hear him, but Tony did pull back, grinning down at Bucky while he stared up at him with wide eyes. He scratched his fingers over Bucky’s scalp, and Bucky shivered at the touch. He hands clenched around Tony’s hips again, sliding slightly lower and stopping just shy of squeezing his ass. Tony drew in a shivering breath, and dropped back into his chair only to pull it close and lean into Bucky’s space.

“Does it make me a complete cockhound if I wanna leave with you, like… Right now?” he asked, voice rough. His hand settled high on Bucky’s thigh, thumb tracing over the seam of his pants.

“Oh god,” Bucky muttered, swallowing hard. He huffed out slightly stupid laugh. “Do I look like the kinda guy who cares, Tony? Also, I kinda figured that’s what I was getting into. Your reputation does proceed you, ya know?”

“True, fair, valid, all good points,” Tony was nodding enthusiastically, his thumb moving closer and closer to Bucky’s cock, half hard in his dress pants. “But, uh…” He ducked his head a little. “Don’t believe everything you read,” he added softly, giving Bucky a crooked smile. “I do have a squishy, candy centre.”

Bucky arched a brow, smirking at him. “Now that I know you’re the mechanic that Sam and Rhodey are always talking about, I have a suspicion.” He narrowed his eyes then, tilting his head as he considered Tony. “And what’s the back half of the joke, there?”

Tony smiled serenely back at him, looking ridiculously pleased with himself. “Wanna get out of here and see how many licks it takes to get to said squishy, candy centre?”

Bucky made an involuntary, punched out noise. “Yes. Yes, please.”

Tony beamed back at him, and then seemed to realize there was still a party going on around them. “Shit, okay. I just gotta…” He leaned in and gave Bucky a quick kiss, lingering just a second longer than he’d obviously intended. “Wait right here,” he said, still grinning a little stupidly. “I’ll be right back.”

He was gone before Bucky could say a word, and he took advantage of the moment to take a deep breath, trying to calm himself down. He had a glass of ice water on the table, sweating in the warmth of the room, and Bucky sipped at it, his eyes automatically tracking Tony as he maneuvered around people and tables. He watched as Tony tracked down a gorgeous red-headed woman, pulling her in close and murmuring something in her ear. He had half a second to feel jealous before her eyes went wide, and then her gaze landed on Bucky on return, and she smiled wide. Shaking her head, she leaned back to say something to Tony in return and then kissed his cheek. Tony beamed and then he was darting back over to Bucky, bypassing a group of important looking men and fiddling on his cell phone at the same time.

“Okay!” he said, grabbing Bucky’s hand and pulling him out of the chair with surprising strength. “Follow me, quickly, before anybody else decides to try and network.” He gave an exaggerated shudder at the thought and grinned before hauling Bucky around the outside of the room and then out an unnoticed side door, leading him down a back staircase. Bucky couldn’t help laughing, reeling with the excitement of sneaking around.

“You do this often?” he asked, light and teasing.

Tony cast a look at him over his shoulder. “Less often than you might think.” He turned back completely to give him a quick kiss, humming when Bucky’s hands grabbed his hips, pulling him in for a longer one before he could pull away. “But,” he added. “It doesn’t hurt to have an escape route for when those rich old octogenarians start getting a little too handsy.”

He grinned when Bucky barked out a surprised laugh, then gave his hand another tug.

“Come on, baby. I promise I’ve got somewhere much more comfortable than a dingy stairwell to make out in.”

Bucky grinned right back at him and then they were hurrying back down the stairs, coming out into a side street where there was a limo waiting. Tony shooed him into the backseat first, climbing in so close behind that he was practically on top of him.

“Home please,” he called, eyes locked on Bucky’s. “And, uh, Happy? Don’t mean to be rude, but I’m going to be closing the partition.”

“I’d prefer it, boss!” the driver tossed back cheerfully.

The second they were underway, Tony turned to face Bucky expectantly, waiting less than a second before he was leaning in to kiss him. He pressed in so close he was half on him, and in the relative privacy of the car, Bucky didn’t hesitate to grab his ass, gripping tight and hauling him in closer. He felt Tony’s lips curl into a smile against his own, and then he shifted so he was on top of Bucky, straddling his thighs. He rocked down against him, half hard cocks grinding together, and Bucky had to break away from the kiss to tip his head back against the seat, trying to catch his breath. This didn’t deter Tony at all, who took advantage of the new position to leave little nipping bites on Bucky’s throat.

“Good Christ,” Bucky breathed, shivering when Tony’s teeth dragged over his adam’s apple.

Tony did pull back then, looking entirely too smug. “Everything you thought it would be?” he asked, batting his eyelashes a little ridiculously and fuck, Bucky was maybe in love with him.

“Better,” he promised fervently. His voice was little more than a hoarse growl, and he didn’t miss the way that Tony’s eyes darkened with interest at the sound.

“Well.” Tony’s eyes were caught on his lips again, tongue flicking out like all he could think about was tasting them. “I do my best.”

“Fuck, come here,” Bucky groaned, squeezing his ass again and pulling at him until they were pressed together, chest to chest. He wrapped his arms tight around him, using his strength to rock Tony in his lap, and the other man seemed to melt against him.

“Oh fuck,” Tony moaned. “I’ve been dreaming about you doing that for months.”

“Yeah?” Bucky moved him again, this time grinding his hips up against Tony in the process. “Like that?”

Tony keened, loud enough that Bucky legitimately worried that the driver — Happy — might have heard. “Fuck. Your goddamn arms, James.”

“Oh god,” It was less sexy, this time, and Bucky pulled back, shaking his head with a grin around his lips. “Don’t call me James. Please don’t call me James. Nobody calls me James, not even my ma.”

Tony leaned back too, grinning when Bucky’s hands held his weight so he didn’t tip off his lap completely. He gave him a perplexed look. “What else am I supposed to call you?” Then he made an exaggerated face. “Oh. Oh no. Tell me I’m not supposed to call you Bucky.”

Bucky just gave him a half shrug and a crooked smile. “‘S my name, sweetheart. James just feels weird.”

“It’s how you introduced yourself to me!”

“I was being professional! Nobody’s gonna take me seriously in my job if I’m going by Bucky.”

“But they’ll take you seriously in bed? Your logic is flawed, Barnes.” Tony was laughing though, a twinkle in his eyes, and he gave a heavy sigh. “Fine. But I can’t be held responsible for any slip ups. I’ve been imagining calling your name in bed for quite some time now.”

“God, you’re a menace.”

Bucky wasn’t even sure how he made it back to Stark Tower without him completely losing it in the back seat, but the next thing he knew, the car was pulling to a stop in the garage. Tony pulled away from him with dazed eyes, blinking like he’d forgotten where they were entirely. It was a good look on him.

“Right,” Tony said. “We’re here.” He shook his head then, trying to get his bearings. “God, you make me stupid,” he said, laughing. “Come on, let’s go.”

He pulled Bucky out of the car. There was no sign of Happy, and Bucky had a brief moment to wonder if he’d run away that quickly, or was just hiding out in the driver’s seat until the coast was clear, before Tony was practically shoving him into a small elevator.

“Private elevator,” he explained when it started to move without any buttons or voice commands. “Goes straight to the penthouse.” He was blatantly looking Bucky up and down, practically vibrating, like he was itching to touch but knew if he did he wouldn’t be able to stop himself again.

Bucky could relate.

The elevator shot to the top of the building in what was probably record time, and Bucky stepped out into a living room area. He’d known who Tony was, obviously, but he still couldn’t help the way his jaw dropped at the wall of glass looking out over the city.

“Holy shit,” he breathed. “What an incredible view.”

“Yeah,” Tony said from just behind him, and Bucky could hear the smirk in his voice. “View’s incredible.”

Bucky glanced over to find Tony blatantly checking out his ass. He lifted his eyes, arching a brow at Bucky with a wicked grin on his lips, and Bucky shook his head.

“Menace,” he repeated, moving closer to back Tony against the wall. He shoved a thick thigh between Tony’s legs, rocking it against his hard cock and smirking at the way his eyes rolled black, breath escaping in a shuddering exhale. “You got a bedroom in this fancy-ass joint?” he asked, leaning in close enough that his lips were almost pressing against Tony’s with every word.

Tony shivered, but then he was grinning right back. “You sure you don’t want a drink or something first?”

Bucky groaned, dropping his forehead to rest against Tony’s shoulder. “You make me wait much longer and I might start to cry.”

“Well that certainly wouldn’t be sexy,” he agreed with a stupid little giggle, even though that barely qualified as a joke.

Bucky adored him.

“Follow me, handsome,” he said, catching Bucky’s hand and pulling him down a hall and through a doorway.

The view from the bedroom was no less spectacular, but Bucky was more stuck on Tony’s ass as he moved down the hall in front of him, and then the frankly ridiculously enormous bed sitting in front of them.

He felt a little thrill go through his stomach, the idea that they were actually doing this, after months of pining and thinking that it would never happen. “Jesus, okay,” he said, feeling just the slightest hint of overwhelmed. “How, uh. How do you want to do this?”

Tony smiled at him, like he could tell how Bucky was feeling. “Well I, for one, have been itching to see you naked, hot stuff. Seems only fair, really, after all the times you’ve seen me in nothing but my skivvies.”

Bucky flushed a little, thinking of the time that Tony’s ‘skivvies’ had consisted of nothing but a bright red thong. “That’s different,” he protested. ‘I was working.”

“Uh huh.” Tony sat on the end of the bed, legs spread wide, and Bucky’s mouth went dry as his eyes were drawn to the bulge of his cock, marring the line of his dress pants. “Except you already told me about all the dirty thoughts you were having while ‘working,’ so you want to try that excuse again?” He shifted his hips a little, moving a hand to stroke himself through the fabric. “Come on, handsome. Give me a little show?”

Bucky felt flushed and hot all over, but Tony was looking at him so hungrily that he couldn’t help the surge of confidence that went through him. He took a couple steps back until he was just out Tony’s reach and then met his gaze steadily, slipping out of his suit jacket. It came off easily, despite his tendency to get stuck in the arm even when he wasn’t nervous as all hell, and he couldn’t help being relieved. Dropping the fabric to pool on the ground, he dragged his hands up his sides before moving to undo the buttons of his shirt. He could feel his nipples peaked against the silky fabric, and he made a point of dragging his thumbs over them, choking off a moan at the sensation that spiked through him.

“Oh yeah,” Tony breathed, his voice rough. “You like that, huh?”

Bucky nodded, pinched until his eyes rolled back. “Yeah,” he admitted, voice breathier than he’d intended. “A lot.”

“Oh, sweetheart. I’m going to have fun with you.” is

Bucky felt a jolt of desire go through him at that thought, his cock jerking in his boxers, and he moved back to the buttons, unfastening them quickly now, until he was shrugging off his shirt and left in just his tank top and dress pants. Tony looked him over, leaning back a little on the bed, right hand rubbing over his clothed cock.

“I like this,” he told him. “It’s a good look on you. Like you’re right out of the thirties, or something.”

Bucky couldn’t help grinning at that, let his hand slide over his hip and tease the bottom of his shirt up. He liked working out, he knew how nice the cut of his hips looked. Sure enough, Tony’s tongue flicked out of his lip before he chewed at it, swallowing hard.

“Come on. Don’t be a tease.”

Bucky snorted, but his dick was aching and he just wanted Tony to touch him. He tugged the shirt up hastily over his head, shaking out his hair as he was left bare chested. Before Tony could say another word, he was moving to undo his pants with slightly fumbling fingers. He kicked them off quickly, toeing off his socks in the process. Then, when he was left in nothing more than his boxer briefs, he finally looked back up at Tony with a crooked grin.

He was expecting more teasing, another snarky comment, but the look on Tony’s face sent a shiver up his spine. Tony was staring at him, slack jawed, eyes running up and down Bucky’s body like he couldn’t figure out where he should look first. His hand squeezed around his dick and he gave a low moan, hips jerking up at the touch.

“Oh fuck,” he muttered, swallowing hard. “Sweetheart, come here.” Then he was reaching out, making grabby hands in Bucky’s direction, and Bucky was helpless to resist.

He moved towards him, letting his hips swagger just a little, and his grin grew wider when he saw Tony’s eyes zero in the on the movement. But the second he was close enough, Tony’s hands were closing tight over his hips, yanking him in between his spread legs. Tony moaned softly, leaning in and scraping his teeth over Bucky’s lower abdomen, and Bucky groaned, felt his abs clench as he tipped his back and scrubbed a hand through his hair.

“Gotta…” Tony’s voice cracked, and he cleared it, tried again. “Gotta let me blow you, honey, please. You have any idea how badly I… Every time you were giving me a massage, when you came up around the head of the table, all I could think was how easily I could suck you off, how much I wanted to.”

“Jesus Christ,” Bucky swore. “Good thing I already fired you as my client. I’d never be able to get through another session, now that I know that.”

Tony grinned up at him, eyes crinkling in delight, and then his smile turned wicked and he mouthed his way lower down Bucky’s stomach, until his chin was bumping the tip of his cock.

“Come on, Bucky,” he purred, teasing over his skin. “Tell me I can.”

“Yes,” Bucky said quickly. “Yes, fuck, ‘course you can.”

Tony positively beamed, and then Bucky was whining as he pulled away entirely, tipping forward without Tony’s grip keeping himself upright. He caught himself on the edge of the bed, watching as Tony turned around to crawl up the length of the mattress and dig through the bedside table. Bucky’s gaze caught on his ass, perfectly framed in his dress pants, and he groaned again.

“Oh my god,” he muttered, moving to sit on the side of the bed before his legs gave out entirely. “I’m gonna die.”

Tony huffed out a laugh, and then he came back over, condoms in one hand, lube in the other. “Well,” he said, stepping off the bed to loom over him, tossing the items on the mattress beside Bucky. “At least try and hold out for the fun stuff.”

Then he was dropping to his knees, shoving his way between Bucky’s spread thighs, and leaning forward to mouth at him through his boxers. His mouth was warm and wet, the sensation dampened through the material, and Bucky cursed again. Something about Tony on his knees, still fully dressed was especially appealing to some primal part of Bucky, and his cock jerked. He could feel a drop of pre-come sliding down his length and then further, following the seam of his balls. Tony leaned back again, looking extremely pleased with himself, and then he was tugging at the waistband of his shorts, poking at Bucky until he lifted his hips so Tony could pull them down his legs.

For just a minute Tony sat back on his heels, staring. “God, look at you,” he breathed. Normally Bucky would have felt self conscious under the heat of his gaze, but instead he found himself almost preening, body heating deliciously under the weight of Tony’s stare. His cock twitched again, and he could tell Tony had noticed by the way his lips curled at the corners. “Eager are we?” he teased, but there was a soft tone to his voice, and an instant later he was reaching for one of the condoms on the bed, opening it and then sliding it down Bucky’s length with efficient, practiced movements.

God, Bucky couldn’t wait until they could do this without anything at all.

The moment Tony’s mouth was closing around the tip of his cock, Bucky was practically wailing. Fuck, he was so good at this, all hot pressure and perfect suction. The muscles in his thighs tightened as he fought the urge to thrust up into Tony’s mouth, his fingers twisting into the sheets so he’d remember to keep his hands to himself. He couldn’t help the way his eyes rolled back, falling shut as Tony pulled back a little, flicking his tongue out to tease at his frenulum, but a second later he was snapping them open again, not wanting to miss this.

Tony was looking up at him, eyes dark and heavy and a hint of a smile playing around the corners of them. He pulled off again with an obscene sound. “God, you’re big,” he hummed, half to himself, and Bucky felt his cock twitch again. Then Tony was smirking up at him. “It’s okay, you know,” he said, voice hoarse and rough already.

Bucky blinked back at him, uncomprehending, and Tony’s grin grew a little more self-satisfied. He picked up Bucky’s hands in each of his, prying them free of the sheets and then moving them to the back of his head, biting down on his lip when the cool metal brushed against the back of his neck. Bucky swallowed hard.

“I like it,” Tony told him. He leaned back in, licked a line down the length of Bucky’s cock, showy and a bit desperate. “Pull my hair, a little. Whatever you want.”

Before Bucky could say another word, he was sucking him down again, steadily, methodically working his way to taking all of Bucky. The tip of his head slid into Tony’s throat and he swallowed around him, and Bucky gasped, twining his fingers in Tony’s hair and tugging reflexively. He had half a second to feel guilty before Tony was groaning around him, sounding so obviously hungry for it even with his mouth full of cock.

“Christ,” Bucky bit out. His hips hitched up despite his best efforts, pushing himself just the slightest bit deeper, and Tony groaned around him again. He had one hand curled around the base of Bucky’s cock, but the other he used to grip at his thigh, pawing needily at the sensitive skin until Bucky rocked up into him again. “Oh fuck me,” Bucky moaned as they settled into a steady rhythm, Tony swallowing greedily around him. “You’re so fucking good, Tony. ‘m not gonna last long.”

Tony hummed encouragingly around him, and Bucky thought he was going to pass out at the rush of pleasure that shot through him. Then Tony’s free hand was slipping off his thigh, sliding between his legs to rub at his own dick, like he was so turned on by sucking Bucky off that he couldn’t wait, and Bucky was gone.

With a slew of curses, he was coming, fingers tangling further in Tony’s hair as the other man teased him through it. Bucky shivered his way through the aftershocks, breath coming in sharp, heavy gasps, until he was oversensitive and twitching and Tony was pulling back, looking ridiculously pleased with himself.

“Holy shit,” Bucky gasped, flopping back on the mattress to stare dazedly up at the ceiling. “That was… Holy shit.”

There was a soft, delighted laugh from Tony, before he crawled up beside him, nuzzling into Bucky’s neck. “Good?” he asked.

“Good doesn’t begin to cover it,” Bucky assured him. “Jus… Jus give me a minute. ‘M all about reciprocation, I swear.”

Tony giggled into his skin, leaning further into him. He shifted so his cock was pressed against Bucky’s hip, rocking into him shamelessly. “Won’t take long,” he admitted, panting against Bucky’s skin. “Christ, you’re gorgeous when you come.” He sucked a mark into the underside of Bucky’s neck. “Want you so bad.”

Bucky grinned at that, and with a carefully placed shove he had Tony on his back, looming over him. Tony went wide eyed at that particular move, and Bucky smirked down at him. A second later though, his face turned distraught. “Good Christ, how are you still dressed?” he asked, not even caring how plaintive he sounded.

Tony just groaned, arching his hips up against him. “Later, baby,” he groaned. “I promise, later I will strip naked, and lay on the bed, and you can stare at me for six hours straight, if you want. But honey, I’ve gotta come like five hours ago.”

Bucky rolled his eyes at him, like Tony being so desperate wasn’t making his own cock give a valiant attempt at getting hard again. “Yeah, alright,” he purred, sliding his hand down Tony’s body to work his pants open. The second he got his hand around him, Tony was melting into the mattress. “Oh fuck,” Bucky murmured. “Look at you, sweetheart.” He closed his hand firmly around him, mouth watering at how thick he was, and the desperate noise Tony made as he started jerking him off with quick, steady motions. “Can’t wait to take my time with you. Lay you out, spread you out on the bed…” He dipped his head, kissing over Tony’s neck. “Take my time with you, drag it out, tease you until you’re screaming for it, can’t remember your own name.”

Tony’s hands grabbed at Bucky’s sides, gripping tight enough to bruise as his back arched in pleasure, head tipping back. “Yes,” he choked out. “Yes, fuck, Bucky please. All of that, I want… I want…”

His words trailed off with a low groan, and when Bucky shifted his weight so he could tease metal fingers up his length, Tony came. He clung tight to Bucky’s body as he did, back arching, eyes squeezing shut, breath coming in thick heavy gasps for air, mixing in with a desperate whine. Bucky stroked him through it, kissing him sweetly in the process.

“Oh fuck,” Tony moaned as the aftershocks finally stopped going through him. Bucky pulled away enough to flop down beside him, and Tony turned his head to beam at him, giving him a slow, lazy kiss. Then he shifted, and his nose wrinkled up in distaste. “Oh fuck,” he said again. “Well, these pants are ruined.”

Bucky burst out laughing at that, and Tony’s smile turned soft and sweet again.

“So, I definitely need a shower. But, uh… Maybe you wanna join me? And uh… I know it’s not usually the done thing after a first date — Does this even count as a first date? I mean, it was more of a right place right time kind of thing, not something that was actually planned. Although, knowing Rhodey and Sam, it actually was completely, totally planned, because they’re assholes like that. Which, hi. You already know that, obviously, because you’re friends with them, and that’s kind of a trip, really. Now I’m trying to think of everything I may have said about you and how embarrassing it was on a scale of one to that time at MIT I was simultaneously drunk and sleep deprived and kind of accidentally robbed the bookstore in nothing but a red thong and the permanent moustache marker that Rhodey drew on my face.” He suddenly clapped both hands over his eyes.”Oh God. I have this thing, when I get nervous, I kind of talk incessantly… Please, why aren’t you saying something? Save me from myself.”

Bucky had been watching his diatribe with a bigger and bigger smile on his face, but at Tony’s desperate plea he leaned in and kissed him quiet, not stopping until they were both out of breath and Tony was giving him that wide-eyed, dazed stare again.

“I would love to stay the night,” he told him, just a little shy. “Uh. That is what you were asking, right?”

Tony’s gave him a bright, open grin. “Yeah, it was. And the fact that you followed that through that entire fucking monologue I gave? I think I lo… like you. A lot.”

“Yeah?” Bucky bit his lip and grinned back. “I think I like you a lot too.” He leaned in, kissing Tony one last time before hauling himself off the bed and pulling Tony along after him. “Come on. I’m looking forward to seeing what fancy rich people’s showers look like. And by the way?” he added, blatantly ogling Tony as he finally stripped out of his clothes. “You’re going to have to tell me how you managed to accidentally rob the bookstore, I kind of insist on it.”

“Aw come on, handsome,” Tony teased, waggling his eyebrows as he sauntered off to the bathroom, blatantly wiggling his hips as he went. “Gotta keep the mystery alive!”

***

A week later, Tony was heading into his favourite open air cafe for a lunchtime date with Bucky when he spotted a familiar blond head.

“Oh hey!” he chirped, sliding easily into the seat opposite to Steve. “I forgot. Thursdays are your day to awkwardly flirt with the waitress, right?”

Steve rolled his eyes. “Eat my entire ass,” he returned, just as cheerfully. “We can’t all hook up with our massage therapists.” He gave Tony a fond smile then. “How’s it going with your new boytoy, anyway?”

Tony couldn’t help grinning at just the thought of Bucky; he knew he looked sappy, and he didn’t even care. “Amazing,” he sighed. “He’s meeting me here for lunch, actually, if you want me to introduce you.”

Right on cue -- because they were in sync like that -- Tony spotted said boyfriend walking up the sidewalk toward him.

“Hey baby!” he called, hopping up and waving Bucky over. “Come meet my friend Steve.”

Because he couldn’t resist, he met Bucky halfway, giving him a soft kiss hello before practically dragging him over to Steve’s table.

“Steve, this is --,”

Steve looked up at them and grinned. “Oh! Hey, Buck!”

Tony stared back and forth between the two of them, Steve smiling obliviously and Bucky looking more and more pained.

“You two know each other?” Tony asked faintly.

“Yeah!” Steve told him. “It’s Bucky. You know, my paintball friend? I know I’ve told you about him before. We grew up together? And now we meet up every couple months? Go paintballing or axe throwing or whatever, and -- Ow!” He ducked and winced as both Tony and Bucky simultaneously whacked him on the shoulder.

“What the fuck, Rogers?” Tony demanded. He gestured wildly at Bucky. “This is James, my hot massage therapist! You knew him the entire time?”

Steve offered up his most innocent smile. “Whoops?”

@tonystarkbingo

#tonystarkbingo2020 #tsb2020 #winteriron #tony stark #james barnes #warfalcon #sam/rhodey #sam wilson #james rhodes #mutual pining #fluff #fic #my fic

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ruthlessnessisyourdesire-archive · 5 years ago

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Anonymous said:

❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥

Send ❥ For the Mun to write some positivity for a blog of their choice! | Quota Reached

// Anon you’re a damn cheat lol OK I’ll post a few but not all of those hearts. My God.

@rk800isalive > OK you know the love drill for Eme but it’s fully here > Click

@stayhuman-genevieve > Same thing with my babes Lea and that love > Click

@coffee-and-guns > Feli I love you to death. You are one of my best friends. I’m blessed you commented on that one fic (I can’t remember lol) when you did. Such a long time ago it seems but that’s the moment we were in this. Your writing is wonderful. You make me laugh all the time with our mutual insatiable thirst. And our OTP? Lotixty? They were born from crack originally and damn I cannot imagine NOT having the 60 x Lotus ship. I’m glad to share that with you and even happier to call you a friend for life.

@diivinerose > Curls! We’ve been doing this for so long and I’m just so happy we met across the other side of this fandom. Even happier that we get to do this together. You’re a literal babe. You’ve been there for me during some really rough shit especially now. We can talk about anything and you’re a literal best friend. Your writing is so much better than you give yourself credit for. Same goes for your muse who my muses adore. That good DD60 x Main!D? OTP BABY. Let’s not forget the OTP to top OTP’s with Det!D and Corvus. Finally we get to bring our problematic loves to full swing here. I missed them. I’m so happy to call you a friend for life too babes. I love you too much.

@ninehartx > My canon Nines right here! The only Nines of my life! Iron you are simply amazing. That goes for you as a person, friend and your muses. All of them, especially the wonderful boy that is Aiden Barnes, deserves so much recognition. Your writing is wonderful. I love when we plot. I love when we just chat. You’ve done some amazing things for me while I’ve been going through ish but I will never forget it. Chatting with you daily just brightens my life. You’re one of a kind. And Sixden? My OTP boys are absolute love. I adore you.

@creatorofclay > Waifu! WAIFU # 2! Kam, Ash, Clay you’re such a delight. I mean I’m super stoked that we’re finally interacting so much. You are my Kamski. The canon Kamski of my life and 60 secretly (and not so secretly) has a thing for his creator. Then again so does Corvus in that killer human au but you know what I mean. ;) Platonic murder husbands otp? Never thought that dynamic would come about but damn it’s gonna be a blast. Talking to you is always a blast. You’re so chill and down to earth. I love hearing you in VC and damn I still haven’t been able to go live in VC with you there. Hopefully soon. I adore the hell out of you Kam. Your writing is amazing.

@rxseguided > Cupcake! My sweet angel babe! I love you a lot. We’ve only just started really interacting but damn do I love every minute of it. I’m all on that Jesse x Corvus. You have no idea. He’s just so stuck on her in almost every verse but the killer au? Oh man that’s juicy. 60 never expected to gain an adoptive mother but he’s rolling with it. He just loves his angel mom. Every time you pop on I’m just so down to chat. You’re super fun, chill and amazing all around. That writing tho! You’re so good and let me tell you this. Jesse is an amazing original muse and deserves all the damn love in the world.

@dulcis-pythonissam > My baby Hime you are wonderful. I am so happy you followed me when you did. I’m even happier we started chatting. You’re such a sweet person even if you might not see it. Please just have my hugs. You deserve them. Shizu is absolutely adorable and needs more love! All my muses are here to give her that but I’m already hype on this cute Shizu x Nines. Look what you started with that ask. I love to read your threads. I love to read your plotting. Your Kara is wonderful and 60 is totally in love. I love you lots!

@deviant-by-design > Already gave my love to my baby Crow and their amazing Connor here > Click

@vexeddetective > Lots of love for Vex my babe already gushed here > Click

@nightofthefall > Cherub I will tell you this as I have always. You are a talented writer and you will go far. I remember when you first started talking to me in the other side of this fandom. You were the last good thing to come out of that before I moved away from that mess into here. Your muse deserves more. She’s very well thought and unique. I will always give you writing advice, tell you that your writing is better than you think. Just know you are the sweetest!

@musesdivine > I know you’re on a break here right now but Tori you are an absolute doll. When you followed me I saw Alex and immediately fell in love. 60 was just “ha! a new foil!” And Connor? Well, Connor loves Alex with all of his synthetic heart. Conlex is here and is waiting to set sail again. Then came the rest of your muses. I love them all. I love your writing. I love you! You deserve all good things. I’m glad to have met you through this fandom and will always be grateful we made the choice to dm each at the same time. lol It was too good! And you’re too precious ok?

@amyriadofmuses > A literal babe. You were one of the first people to follow this blog and I’m just so blessed to know you. You’re so sweet and just I love when we get the chance to interact. 60 is all in for Vanessa. He fooled around and fell in love. You tackle so many muses in so many different fandoms and I just adore reading all of yours threads. Please give me all of your DBH muses. I want to interact with each one. With all of my muses. Your writing is lovely. You put so much effort into every single muse and you’re a mutual for life.

@fearlessandchaotic > OK let me just say I missed all the plotting and just being chill in chat. Shenanigans are afoot! Shenanigans are being had! I’m so happy we’re back at it. All of my muses just want to pounce and 60? Oh boy 60 is a hyper puppy with his precious fox around. Let me give love to your Chloe as well. I’m so ready ok? It’s been so great getting back to it. Here’s to more and more my baby Ely!

@theveryfirst > Angel babe who is the Dove to 60′s stone cold heart. I’ve missed you a lot and whenever you manage to pop back up, I just gush. You’re super sweet and were one of the early ones to follow this blog. I’m happy you gave 60 a chance because Sixloe? SIXLOE. I ADORE THEM SO MUCH. She’s so soft and he’s so hard. They just fit so well. All of that good plot we’ve done I’m still ready to do. Whenever you’re ready babes. I love your Chloe so much. Your writing is just beautiful.

@beeutifulmuses > Bee! My precious Bee! I adore you! You’re just so wonderful and such a pleasure to chat with! I’m super happy you dropped on Corvus and I love the added dynamic we’ve plotted with your Forgiveness (tommy) for the demon au. Let me say that you have many a muse that are just so well thought out, canons and oc’s alike. I love reading you on my dash. I love plotting. I am so looking forward to more threads together. You’re just a wonderful writer and I’m so glad to know you!

@negotiiator > Andrew! While we haven’t interacted in a thread lately I just want to give love to this wonderful Connor. Your blog is always so aesthetically pleasing. I love to read you when you pop up on my dash. 60 is just always gritting his teeth and wanting to pounce. He has to suck it up because you’re a pleasure to see. Your writing is just too good. I’m glad you followed when you did. Slap me up in dms again. 60 wants to love on you....with his fist but still.

@anderson-residence > My baby Alley! All the muses. Give me all the muses for all my muses! You’ve been nothing but a doll from the moment you followed me on my Connor blog. That was the first and then you followed me here and beyond. I love seeing all of your plot, ideas and just your enthusiasm for all of your muses. It’s infectious. You have such a great sense of humor and I love you to pieces!

@idontkillorphans > FLO! I love you to death. Sleip is such a mood and a wonderful OC. Whenever you’re on the dash I smile because I know he’s up to something. lol I want to interact more especially with my devil man Corvus. You’re super sweet and just an all around wonderful person. <3

@jericholeader > OK but the Markus queen herself. Always a pleasure to see on the dash. I just adore the way you write Markus. I love your writing. It’s just so good. Becca you’re an angel and I have to toss my muses more at you. 60 is just shaking his head whenever he sees Markus doing good. He hates it but secretly respects him for standing his ground. You’re amazing OK? OK.

@dpd-detective-in-training > 60 is in love with one Isles Turney and I can’t stop him. Seeing you on the dash whenever you are able just makes me smile. I’m super glad you followed me. I adore Isles so much. She deserves way more love. Honestly, she deserves the damn world and no one will tell me otherwise. That’s the truth.

// OK I lied. I posted more than the hearts you sent lol Give all of these babes some love. Oh and shout outs to >

@gracioustwin > Whenever you come back let me love on you with my muses. You’re such a sweetheart. Hannah is love.

@cyberlifefortune > While you just followed me here and on a few of my other blogs, I can already say you are a pleasure. I’ve been reading everything you write on my dash and I’m super excited to start writing with you!

@electricshxxp > Just started following but already I’m so hype to interact. 60 is ready for Kamski. Been reading you on my dash and I’m loving it. I’m super excited to start writing and plotting!

#ask database #identifying: inferior #//process:anon//#[meme // replies]#[code: long post]#[05/05]

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1-racha · 6 years ago

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I Can Do Better (Badboy!Jungkook/Gang!au)

Well let me tell you this has been sitting in the drafts for literally years and I read it again and thought shit this is actually kinda good so here I am continuing it let me know if it’s any good and you want more parts!!

Warnings: Language, Violence, Smut in future chapters

Starting school during the middle of the semester, can’t tell if this was a good or a bad idea. I mean I purposely didn’t start school so I could start fashionably late and have less work to do so it’s on me that everyone was now staring but I couldn’t really care any less. I did have reputations back in the UK. Reputations I wish to hold onto.

And yes, I’m from the UK I had to leave in a bit of a em hurry and so now here I am standing outside a new school in South Korea. Fun. I grew up with my dad. However, after my certain ways and behaviour he has now disowned me and wishes to never talk to me again. Not that I mind so I went to live with my mother in London where I met with some em people... Any way my mother was always out at work and as much as I love your mother to the moon and back staying there was dangerous for her so I came here to Korea to stay with my Auntie . However, at last minute she got the opportunity to travel the world for 3 years so obviously she took it leaving me completely alone, Fucking amazing, I have her house all to myself. Another reason why I didn’t start school on time.

I walked in and went to the reception desk.

“Hey, it’s my first day” the lady looked up from her computer and smiled sweetly

“ah yes y/n, is it? here’s your schedule for today” I took the paper from her and thanked her. As I turned around I smashed right into someone cursing as he dropped his phone.

“shit my bad dude” I said grabbing the phone silently praying it wasn’t broken. Unfortunately, it was cracked in the corner. Well fuck.

“fuck my bad do you want money to repair it?” I asked giving him the now cracked phone. He simply smiled at me.

“it’s alright, I wasn’t looking where I was going anyway” I nodded looking down at his phone feeling guilty but he quickly moved it out of my view and into his pocket

“are you new?” I nodded although suspiciously and he smiled a huge smile.

“Cool, hey Ms. Choi I’ll take her for the tour thingy” he told the woman from before she smiled and typed something up.

“oh you are now?” I questioned with a raised eyebrow

“yup, my names Jimin” he smiled at me so I smiled back

“Okay Jimin, the names y/n”

10 minutes pass and Jimin has shown me around. He’s told me the unspoken rules and now we were just walking around aimlessly

“Hey so do you have any friends here yet?” he asked looking down at me although not by much he was maybe a few centimetres taller than me.

“No, because I literally got here 10 minutes ago and the whole time I have spent with you so nope” I replied walking backwards in front of him. He laughed at me then immediately stopped and tried to signal something. I was confused why but it soon hit me… literally. I quickly turned around away to apologise when I was cut off by the taller male.

“the fuck!? Watch where you’re fucking going” he yelled not even sparing me a glance. I was away to snap and call him out when Jimin spoke up.

“Jungkook it’s cool bro she was walking with me, she’s new actually” the boy suddenly snapped to look at me giving me a smirk. I raised an eyebrow at him

“oh, didn’t know that we had a newbie, what’s your name beautiful?” he reached out to touch my cheek but I just scoffed and threw his hand away from my face. He was surprised not expecting that much power to come from me but quickly smirked again seeming impressed.

“yeah so, her name is y/n, and she has some strength on her” Jimin spoke winking at me referring to when I smashed into him before It then dawned on me that I have acquired a new habit of bumping into people. I just laughed back at him Jungkook seemed to be confused.

“aww I’m sorry, I promise to repay you” I winked at him. Jungkook gave Jimin dagger eyes and Jimin nodded at him smiling to himself. Jungkook then grew more satisfied it’s as though they just communicated threw their eyes. Jungkook then smirked at me bidding farewell as he walked down the hallway. Right, that wasn’t weird at all. Jimin then spoke up

“soo, as I was saying if you haven’t found any friends you can come sit with me at lunch and I’ll introduce you to my friends although you just met one” he smirked. I just nodded at him

“sure, I don’t have anything better to do” he grinned at me jumping it was adorable.

I walked into the classroom handing the teacher the piece of paper. He took it and smiled asking me to wait outside or wander for a minute or two so I did just that wandering down the opposite way of the classroom I stopped seeing a familiar head of hair.

“Taehyung?” he did a dramatic twirl to look at me and when he did he grinned so widely running and engulfed me in a hug. He rocked from side to side kissing my cheek he put me down beaming at me.

“holy shit y/n you got hot, what are you doing here?” I slapped his chest laughing at him and explaining why I was there. Me and Tae became friends when I would come to visit my auntie and grew close. I stopped coming at 9 and it’s been about 9 years since we last saw each other it was still easy to recognise that box smile anywhere.

“well now you’re here and you’re not leaving without me ok?” I laughed nodding at him then saying goodbye deciding to wait outside the classroom. A few seconds later the teacher came to get me and made me stand in front of the full class and introduce myself. I rolled my eyes and introduced myself.

“my names y/n, and I’m from the UK and deliberately started school late so I can do less work” I smiled sickly at the teacher. “was that satisfactory?” he scowled at me realizing I wasn’t going to cooperate at all during the next few months he stated that I should sit in the spare seat at the back. I walked toward the seat noticing Jungkook sitting in the seat next to it smirking impressed. I sat slouched in the chair giving off the ‘I don’t give a fuck’ vibe much to Jungkook’s delight it seemed he would grow to like me.

Lunch came and since I had the last class with Jimin I turned in my chair to look at him he smiled grabbing his stuff and pulled me to the cafeteria. He got his food me following suit and followed him to a table where I saw that Jungkook was already siting at eating some noodles, Jimin sat his stuff opposite him and I decided to sit next to Jungkook which he looked up to you and smiled. Soon you saw Taehyung bounce over to the table and sitting next to Jimin giving him a small piece of paper. Jimin eyed him and looked at the note an annoyed sigh leaving his lips as Tae just grinned then turned to look at me surprised.

“y/n you’re sitting with us? Yes, fate is on my side” he got up and hugged me tightly. Jimin and Jungkook both looking on in shock.

“wait Tae you already know y/n? how?” Jimin questioned clearly confused “or did she walk into you too?” I glared at Jungkook who only winked back.

“what? No, I’ve known y/n since forever she’s my childhood friend I told you guys about” Jungkook nearly spat his noodles out choking all of us looking at him weirdly. Once he calmed down he spoke up

“wait y/n y/n? as in the y/n I protected at the store when some boys tried to take your shit?” it was my turn to choke this time. “THaT was you!?” I yelled he eagerly nodded his head smiling.

“Oh shit” someone from behind said. I turned to see who it was only to find all the excitement from before leave in a flash. Oh shit indeed

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lovelylogans · 6 years ago

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*cracks knuckles* it’s time for me to go galaxy brain on main.

i present: an overanalysis of virgil’s deposition (specifically, deceit weaseling badgering the witness)

so, virgil is very clearly reluctant to take the stand:

to which deceit responds “very well. you don’t usually have anything helpful to add anyway.”

to me, this reminded me of the past lines (i forget which eps and i’ll edit this post when i find it) in which numerous sides speak about virgil being unhelpful, pre-accepting anxiety arc: “virgil always seems to get you down,” “we’re talkin’ toons, dr. gloom!” in “becoming a cartoon” in which the other sides actively ostracized virgil bc he was unhelpful, or brought the group down.

let’s take a look at accepting anxiety part two (which is only 13 minutes long and we thought it was a MARATHON, weren’t we cute back then?) when virgil rises up, he says “i’ve decided to duck out... i removed myself from the equation. i quit. decided it wasn’t worth it. it didn’t seem like i was wanted. you all made that pretty clear anytime i showed up.”

later in that ep,

this clearly rankles virgil, so he takes the stand: agitated, on edge, keyed up—precisely as deceit wants him.

“okay! ask me your questions.”

look at his posture, the tone of his voice—he’s hunched forward, arms crossed, bangs in his face. he’s on defense (from the defendant i’m so sorry i’ll go) and he’s irritated. deceit then asks him the clarifying question:

“you are in control of thomas’ fears, are you not?” honestly, it’s a fair question. he poses a similar question to logan earlier (logic as an oversimplification) though he does eventually highlight logan’s other roles (for instance, his punctuality.)

however, look at that phrasing. you are in control of thomas’ fears. not you are thomas’ fear response. not you represent thomas’ fear. you are in control of those fears.

back to accepting anxiety part two! “i’ve always aimed to protect you!”

to quote logan: “look, anxiety, you’re a natural fight-or-flight reflex. that’s what you’re instilled in humans to act as.”

to quote virgil himself an ep ago: “me being able to elicit fear doesn’t mean i haven’t grown.”

virgil’s been established, yes, as anxiety. however, it’s anxiety that he doesn’t want to overpower thomas with. in accepting anxiety two, as thomas says, he wants to work with anxiety to overcome those fears, rather than without him. virgil can elicit fear, true, but that doesn’t mean he intends for it to be so aggressively overwhelming—or, at least, that’s been my interpretation of canon, and if i’m missing something please feel free to let me know.

back to the most recent ep!

“oh my go-we all know each other! who are these clarifications for?? CUT TO THE CHASE!” again, i think this might be needling at virgil’s past. as fear/anxiety—someone not to include, someone to excise, someone to, well, fear. keep away from.

but look at how agitated he is. he’s so clearly on guard here, he’s so clearly defensive, he’s lashing out and shouting. after two questions. and admittedly one pointed comment. virgil does not want him here, he does not want to be in this situation, he wants out. cut to the chase indeed.

“is it true that you once said that ‘weddings are outdated, overly expensive pagentry?’”

i just really liked that imitation. i do also think, though, that this imitation tells us something about the past deceit and virgil relationship (friends, enemies, whatever it was.) personally, i can only get better at interpreting people the more time i spend around them. for example, a professor i have 3 days a week this semester? i can do a passable “oh, my” impression of her voice. but my roommate, who i have known since i was about 13? she and i have literally started saying “hell yeah!” in the exact same tone of voice, at the exact same time. i can do a much better impersonation of her. and granted deceit and virgil have the same face and similar voices, but look at deceit’s impersonation of patton (pretty spot-on) and logan (less passable) and then look at his impersonation of virgil. that’s on-the-nose. that’s practically perfect.

that’s an impersonation you get after a lot of time, study, and practice.

“yeah, well, i also once swore to thomas that the drink he left alone in the other room for ten seconds was definitely poisoned and if he drank it, he would die. i’m not exactly a beacon of truth.”

first, it’s just nice to know that i’m not the only one who panics about drinks getting poisoned. second, that line i bolded. that’s a turning point. that is a target. that is what deceit will narrow his focus in on.

“so you’ve changed your mind then?” see? narrowed in. focused. virgil knows it, too. look at his posture: he’s drawn his shoulders back, though he still has his arms in front of him.

“next question.” however, i do think that there could also be an undercurrent of history there, which i won’t speculate about; i’m gonna just assume that it doubles back to the dilemma of this episode, ie, the wedding vs the callback.

deceit chuckles, there, and let me just say thomas that is a VERY good evil chortle, 10/10. anyway, “very well. as thomas’ anxiety, do you have any relevant information about his norepinephrine levels in regards to these two conflicting commitments?”

SCIENCE BREAK! note that i’m a journalism/english major and i nearly flunked out of chemistry in high school, so i’m mostly relying on google here. anyway, deceit specifically mentions norepinepherine, which directly stimulates adrenergic receptors. however, in my own research (again, not super known to be trusted here) i’ve found that anxiety is epinephrine. minor differences, sure, mostly centered on the effects that they have (norepinepherine, for instance, causes your blood vessels to narrow which increases blood pressure level, which epinepherine doesn’t do.) epinephrine, however, is the primary aspect of “flight-or-flight” response, aka virgil’s specialty. norepinephrine results in the formation of epinephrine: so essentially, deceit is asking if there’s an increase in norepinepherine, which would result in an increase in epinephrine: basically, is there gonna be a bad/anxious time happening any time soon.

science break over! virgil does not have the patience for it that i just spent researching and you just spent reading, though:

“i think it’s ridiculous that anyone is entertaining any of this. guys, he’s a liar! you literally know him as deceit!”

it’s true, we do know him as deceit. we also knew virgil as anxiety, which is where a popular strain of theory has popped up: ie, virgil being known as anxiety, and the name ‘virgil’ being a sort of lie. i’m not sure how much i agree with it, though i do think it’s a viable fan theory.

“glass houses, virgil. you yourself said that you are not a beacon of truth.”

his tone—especially when he chides virgil about glass houses with the finger wag and the little tsk—is mocking. he’s taunting virgil. as in beware calling me a liar—we both know that you aren’t as honest as you seem.

“yeah, because i’m wrong a lot.” virgil’s still on the defensive.

“oh, so you’ve never been reluctant to share anything with the group then?”

this. this is the line that makes me think that it’s not quite centered on the name, coupled with deceit’s next line. if any of you have siblings—you know how you taunt them with something, or tease them, and they say “DON’T” or “STOP” or you get that response that you were looking for, because little kids are jerks, and you just say “whaat, i just meant insert thing here...” it’s vaguely like the “i’m not touching you!” defense. this scene gives me very similar vibes. deceit is definitely taunting virgil over something that he didn’t share—whether it’s with the named sides we’ve got, or if it’s with the unseen friends of deceit.

let’s throw it back an ep, shall we? to that endscreen. “you are hilarious virgil, you always have been...” and “just be sure to keep up that personal growth, virgil. maybe soon, you could be rid of us all.”

definite history. definitely a pattern of needling virgil over their mutual past.

“don’t.”

“what?! i just meant your name...”

look at him. he’s delighted he’s gotten the reaction he wanted. he’s delighted that thomas is now glancing back and forth between them, curious about that history. and again, see, look, the petulant little “whaaat? i just meant...” and hey, look, another moment of deceit needling something of virgil’s past with the sides: they kept trying to figure out his name, saying his name was a big thing for him, and now deceit is bringing that up, too.

“DON’T!”

he’s an ANGERY boi! he does not want deceit prying, he does not want him bringing this up in front of the others, especially thomas, and he does not want to revisit the past.

“maybe that’s why it’s so easy for you to recognize me for what i am. like i said before, it takes a liar to know a liar.”

this is the point where patton breaks in, and this little scene is ferreted away for fanders to overanalyze until they’re dizzy (guilty!) but hey, that parting line, huh?

it takes a liar to know a liar.

so i think the main question is: what’s virgil lying about? is it his past as a “dark” side (which i think is pretty widely accepted fanon, and very heavily hinted in canon) or is it about a potential betrayal he did to the dark sides, or is it something that the “light” sides (and therefore the audience) don’t know about virgil yet? something that could really affect their trust of him?

either way, this scene was a little over a minute, and yet it provided this much for analysis, so. even if i’m wrong about most of it, i am not wrong about the fact that the deceit and virgil conflict is gonna be intense, everybody.

#my post #text #ts spoilers #sanders sides spoilers

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queenmorgawse · 6 years ago

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bang bang, there goes your heart

here’s some modern / espionage au sangcheng as a somewhat belated birthday gift for @hua-lian !! once again, HAPPY BIRTHDAY JY, ilysm and i hope you enjoy this. <3 ( read on ao3 + end notes )

For the eighteenth time in the span of twenty-four hours, Jiang Cheng asks himself how the hell he ended up here — stuffed in a janitor’s closet, with his heart racing in his chest and about two inches of breathing room between his face and Nie Huaisang’s.

It begins, as all disastrous stories do, with a dare from Jiang Cheng’s idiotic brother.

“You wouldn’t have the guts.”

“Like hell I wouldn’t.”

In retrospect, it really is laughably easy to get Jiang Cheng to do anything, especially when your name is Wei Wuxian and even a slight smirk from you can be enough to send him spiraling downward into an ocean of spite. It’s like they’re eight, not twenty-eight.

The mission isn’t even anything complicated. Get in, socialize, wheedle the right information out of the right people, plant a few cameras and microphones here and there, get out. ( Wei Wuxian is not actually dumb enough to suggest they pull this kind of stunt during an assignment that requires their full focus, much as Jiang Cheng hates to admit it. )

“You’ve got to go together anyway, don’t you?” His brother flutters his lashes at him, and any charitable thought towards him Jiang Cheng might have entertained immediately vanishes from his head. “Why not as a couple?”

“What am I getting out of it?” Jiang Cheng grits out. After twenty years of knowing each other, he’s learned to exploit an opportunity when he can.

“If you do it, Lan Zhan and I will do it next time we have to be undercover together,” Wei Wuxian declares, and Jiang Cheng snorts.

“With you? Like he’d let you.” If he’s being honest with himself, he’ll admit that one was mostly to get a rise out of the other. Lan Wangji will definitely let him pass as his fake boyfriend, fiancé, husband, whatever he asks of him, a fact obvious to all but the interested party.

Whatever. It’s not the point. If they go, Wei Wuxian might finally clue in on Lan Wangji’s feelings, and then Jiang Cheng will (hopefully) be free of his oblivious pining. What’s one evening of pretending against that?

“Fine!” he snaps, and Wei Wuxian’s face lights up. “I’ll do it, but only if Nie Huaisang agrees.”

“I doubt he wouldn’t,” the other retorts, intently checking out his own nails. “You’ve got to change your personality for this thing, which is clearly your most disagreeable trait, so once that’s done, anyone would jump on the chance of going on a not-date with you.”

Jiang Cheng launches himself across the desk at him.

The evening even started out well. No one even glanced twice at their forged invitations, the appetizers weren’t half bad, and Nie Huaisang clearly charmed at least one of the targets they were supposed to. Everything goes exactly according to plan, until Jiang Cheng spots an unfortunately familiar set of faces across the room and swears under his breath.

“If you’ll excuse me,” he says with the most convincing smile he can, crossing the room and tugging at Nie Huaisang’s elbow. “Darling,” the pet name leaves a strange taste on his mouth, though not an unpleasant one, “can we walk out for a minute? Family emergency.”

The lady across from them makes sympathetic noises and waves away Nie Huaisang’s apologies. Jiang Cheng watches him deliver a few more carefully chosen lines about how sorry he is and how he’ll be delighted to bask in the light of her company again when their business is taken care of before he lets himself be led away.

“What is it?” Huaisang asks the moment they’re out of earshot.

Jiang Cheng jerks his chin towards the entrance, where a commotion is visibly kicking up some metaphorical dust. “Wen Chao, some new girl of his and Wen Zhuliu just got here.”

Nie Huaisang’s eyes widen. “What? Qishan didn’t notify us.”

“When do they ever tell us anything important?”

“...Good point. What do we do?”

Jiang Cheng only hesitates for a fraction of a second. “Lie low, tell the boss so they can take it up with Qishan themselves, and follow what they’re doing on the cameras we already placed. Wen Chao won’t give a shit about the Five’s agreement, he’ll definitely be an asshole and expose us if he recognizes us.”

He doesn’t voice the more pessimistic possibility : that this is indeed something none of the other four central offices know of, and Qishan Wen has its own agenda in sending its own agents here without warning them. It could be nothing, just Wen Ruohan’s usual pride in assuming he doesn’t have to notify anyone else of his will if he doesn’t want to, or - knowing the Wen patriarch - it could be suspicious.

It’s not Jiang Cheng’s place to decide. The best he can do is not compromise their mission, report to the higher-ups, and comply with what they’ll do.

“I hate them so much,” Nie Huaisang sighs, and though his tone is merely annoyed, Jiang Cheng is reminded of Nie Mingjue’s usual fits of rage whenever Qishan’s central office is involved.

“Ditto,” Jiang Cheng echoes. They exchange an exasperated look, several years’ worth of disagreement flashing through their heads, before Jiang Cheng sighs and offers Nie Huaisang his arm again. Together, they sweep out of the ballroom unseen.

For such a majestic place, the museum certainly lacks spacious, empty rooms. Oh, Jiang Cheng does not doubt that there are offices aplenty in parts of the building that aren’t accessible to the public, with locks that would be laughably easy to pick, but the only cameras they’ve managed to place so far have a ridiculously small range. Which leads them here, now ⎯ crammed together in a closet, with the light of Jiang Cheng’s phone between them and not much room for anything else.

He’s uncomfortably aware of Nie Huaisang’s presence, from his quiet breathing to the flowery smell of his cologne. When he tries to move, they knock together once again, an awkward tangle of limbs in the dark.

Nie Huaisang takes a sharp breath.

“That is indeed a gun in my pocket,” Jiang Cheng hisses before he can add anything.

He must have gotten it right, as in the glare of his screen, the other’s mischievous look turns into one of disappointment. “Jiang-xiong, if you ruin my jokes before I even get the chance to tell them, what am I to do?”

“Get a better sense of humor,” he snaps back, ignoring the flush creeping up his neck at the way Nie Huaisang’s lashes cast delicate shadows on his cheeks.

“How rude.” Jiang Cheng can feel him tilting forward. Deliberately closer, he tells himself. He’s just teasing you. Still, it’s hard to keep his thoughts in order when Nie Huaisang quite literally leans on his chest, his face now just a breath away from Jiang Cheng’s. “Don’t I even get an apology?”

Maybe it’s because of his nerves. Maybe tension has been running through him like electricity through a wire for the past hour, and something had to take the edge off. Or maybe it’s the warm weight of the arm Nie Huaisang has slung around his neck, his general proximity, and the fact that Jiang Cheng has kissed him once at a drunken college party and lived from that point onwards with the knowledge that perhaps, just perhaps, he wanted to do it again.

Regardless of the reasons why, here is what happens : Jiang Cheng tilts Nie Huaisang’s chin up and presses his mouth against his.

Nie Huaisang makes a little surprised noise and goes boneless in his arms. It only lasts an instant ⎯ before Jiang Cheng can overthink his decision and jerk away, Huaisang is the one grabbing him by the collar and bringing their lips together again. They crash against the back wall of the closet, Jiang Cheng’s arm coming up around the other man’s waist to brace the fall.

“Jiang Cheng,” Nie Huaisang breathes, like he’s discovering it for the first time. Jiang Cheng finds he likes the way it sounds on his tongue, soft and breathy, like something to be held dear rather than carelessly thrown around.

He should say something. Explain. Ask him, is that alright?, even though it must be, given the enthusiasm with which Nie Huaisang reciprocated, tell him he’s been thinking about this an embarrassing lot. But Jiang Cheng has never been good at juggling with words, especially when they matter as much as they do now, so instead, he runs his fingers through the loose strands escaping from Nie Huaisang’s bun and kisses him again.

He loses track of time ⎯ the only thing that matters then is the warm touch of Nie Huaisang’s lips on his jaw, on his neck. He makes a sound he would be way too embarrassed to let anyone here in different circumstances, but Huaisang doesn’t point it out, only seems to take it as encouragement.

Then Jiang Cheng’s earpiece, so far carefully tucked under his hair, crackles, and both of them are brutally jerked back to reality.

“A-Cheng?” Jiang Yanli’s voice on the other end of the line instantly sobers him up. “Are you alright? We reached Qishan’s office and demanded an explanation, they should be removing their agents now.”

Next to him, Nie Huaisang has also recovered, as straight-faced as someone who was not making out in a random closet just a few seconds ago. He swipes Jiang Cheng’s phone out of his hand and flips through the cameras before nodding his assent. “Gone,” he confirms. “Or at least I can’t see them anymore.”

“Good. Do they know we were there?”

Jiang Yanli chuckles. “Not your names, no. I wish I was there to watch them try to figure out which of the guests were Lotus agents.” She pauses before her voice turns serious again. “Coast’s clear. Go do what you have to do. I sent Nie Huaisang some convenient excuses in case you need to explain what took you so long.

“Thank you, A-jie,” Jiang Cheng says, just as Nie Huaisang echoes with thank you, miss Jiang.

“Good luck, you two.” He can almost feel the smile in her voice before the earpiece goes silent again.

The atmosphere is awkward as they step out of the closet into a mercifully deserted corridor and fix up their clothes. Jiang Cheng’s collar is somewhat rumpled, and he knows without looking his hair must be a mess.

He catches Nie Huaisang looking at him, an amused glint in his golden eyes. “What?”

“You’ve got lipstick on your neck,” Huaisang says dismissively. “Better clean that up quickly.” He taps a finger against his lips (now somewhat smudged themselves), then seems to take pity on Jiang Cheng and pulls a packet of wet wipes out of seemingly nowhere.

“Thanks,” he mutters. The first wipe comes out stained with a dark shade of red.

If he’s blushing, and Nie Huaisang is watching, he might as well end himself here and now.

“We are not talking about this,” is what Jiang Cheng finally settles on. He pairs it with a withering glare, for good measure.

“No, we’re not,” Nie Huaisang agrees, then winks. “Not before I take you out for dinner for real.”

Not for the first time tonight, and - he has a feeling - probably not for the last, Jiang Cheng is left speechless.

#mdzs #mo dao zu shi #sangcheng #jiang cheng #nie huaisang #kim's fics #hua-lian

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