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peachhcs · 4 years ago

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Love Languages

Pairings Luke Patterson x reader

Summary Luke asks the reader what love languages are.

Warnings none but fluff :)

Word Count 1.8k (short I know but I'm working on it)

I haven’t really written on Tumblr before so don’t judge too harshly because there’s some insanely talented people on here who might judge hahaha. (hopefully not though) I don't know what the boy’s love languages are so I kind of just assumed based off of what we saw but I did see somewhere that someone said Luke’s was touch so I just went with it.

Gif is not mine so credit to the owner! I don’t know if anyone has done this idea before but I kind of like it because it popped into my head last night. Anyways, enjoy!! :) p.s. I sort of left this on a cliff hanger but idk if i’m going to continue it or not hahaha

PART 2

* * *

You were seated peacefully on the couch as you worked away on your laptop while listening to Julie and the guys practice a few songs for this weekend’s upcoming gig. You always loved listening to them practice, they sounded like absolute angels and you would never get tired of listening to them. However, Luke thought you should be doing your homework somewhere else because he didn’t want them to be distracting to you but truthfully, you really didn’t mind. If you were being honest, it actually helped you focus and the music didn’t let your brain wander.

You glanced up at the group after realizing they had stopped playing. Julie met your eyes with a warm smile, already reading your mind,

“We’re just taking a break. I got to catch up on some homework.” Julie explained to her best friend. You nodded in response, smiling slightly as she went back to work. The boys were talking amongst themselves over by the piano, using hushed voices so whatever they were talking about you or Julie couldn’t hear.

By some weird magical notion, you were able to see the boys even when they weren’t playing like Julie could. They haven’t been able to figure out why yet, though. Why you could see the guys but their other best friend, Flynn, couldn’t. Or why Luke’s parents couldn’t see him either but you still could. It was all just one big mystery they were all still unravelling. They had a theory that it had something to do with their unfinished business and the connections they all shared with one another, but that was yet to be explored with you and the boys. Julie and the boys sort of figured out how they were connected, but they hadn’t gotten that far with you yet.

Julie made an attempt one time to suggest that maybe it was because you were so close with Luke ever since you guys met, the connection just helped you see all of them, but you chose to deny that theory. Especially when Julie threw the word feelings into the mix. Julie knew all too well about your “little”crush on the lead guitarist. There was no doubt that she caught on to it right away when the pair first met and hit off right away. From there, she proceeded to question you about it once they went back to her room. Of course you denied, denied, denied, but after awhile you finally gave in and agreed to your best friend’s observation. Julie saw all the looks that you two exchanged and she knew very well about the boys talking about you here and there. It was just a matter of time until one of you finally broke and admitted your stupid feelings for one another.

“Hey..Y/n?” The cautious voice made you glance up from your computer, first looking at Julie thinking it was her who called your name but then turning your head to the boys who were glancing at you with quizzical looks.

“Yeah?” You ask glancing at Luke since he was the one who spoke up. You watch as the boys exchange a glance with one another and you push your eyebrow up in confusion. You meet eyes with Julie for a moment who was now looking between the boys and you just as confused as you were.

“We have a question.”

“Well, Luke does, but we’re curious too.” Alex cut in before you could respond. You chuckle slightly at their visible nervousness about what they wanted to ask.

“Okay, shoot.” You gave them your full attention, pushing your computer screen down and a small smile sat content on your lips. Julie also gave them her full attention too, because she was equally as curious as to what they could possibly be asking you.

“What..what does love languages mean? We heard you and Julie talking about it yesterday..” Luke’s asks softly. Oh. That was what they were asking..Your face goes a little red at the thought of them hearing your conversation yesterday since it started out as band schedule and then led into your crush per usual. You glanced to Julie for help who only shook her head with a quick shrug.

“They asked you, not me. Take it away, sister.” Julie laughed and your face went even redder. It wasn’t an inappropriate question or anything, you just didn’t really know how to describe it. Or because it meant talking about feelings and relationships which was something you didn't really want to get into with them, especially Luke.

“Uhh.. well.. I guess it’s a certain way somebody likes to express their love for someone. There’s different types of love languages like um, touch, words, gifts, spending time with that person, and doing nice things I guess..” You trail off slightly while scratching the back of your head, feeling a little flustered.

“What do you think my love language is?” Alex asks excitedly, not really to you but just to anyone who would answer him.

“I see yours being affirming words or something like spending time with them. You always love it when someone compliments you and reassures you if you’re having too much anxiety about something.” Julie cuts in with a smile and Alex points to her to say she was correct. Julie chuckles and you do too.

“Reggie, yours would definitely be gifts or like spending time with people. You always like to hang around Ray and stuff.” You say glancing at Reggie who smiles warmly at your statement.

“What about me?” You met eyes with Luke who was softly looking at you. You avoided Julie’s burning gaze into your head and Alex and Reggie’s small smirks as they waited for you to answer. You flushed again, looking to Julie for help who only shrugged. They both knew you knew the answer, that was what you guys had been talking about yesterday.

“I’m..I’m not really sure..” You lied and you hated the small hint of disappointment in Luke’s eyes. You quickly looked away and started to reopen your laptop.

“Hey, I’m hungry, I’m gonna grab some snacks. Y/n do you wanna come with?” Julie asks making an escape for you to avoid the now awkward tension in the room.

“Yeah. Yeah.” You were quickly nodding your head and jumping up from your laptop. You didn’t even wait for Julie as you made a beeline for the garage doors and pushed them open, hurrying up the pathway to Julie’s house.

Julie exchanged a knowing glance with the boys, reading Alex and Reggie’s glances before following after you saying you’d be back in a minute. You were pacing around on the patio when Julie finally got to you. She raised her eyebrows slightly trying to read your thoughts.

“Y/n, why did you lie? That could have been the perfect opportunity to tell him how you feel.” Julie says and you shoot her a small glare.

“Julie, he doesn’t like me like that. I just didn't want to embarrass myself but I guess I embarrassed myself even more by saying nothing.” You admit, slowing your pacing to look Julie in the eye. She lets out a small laugh.

“I don’t think you embarrassed yourself. You were just flustered which is understandable, but I say go for it. You never know what can happen. The Y/n I know doesn’t back down from a challenge either.” Julie puts a comforting arm on your shoulder and you were thankful for it. You squeeze her hand in response.

“Thanks. I don’t know, I guess I’ve just never felt this way about someone before..” You trail off and Julie squeezes your shoulder even tighter,

“Look, I get it, it’s scary, but you can do it. Think of this as me encouraging you to talk to him like you did for me and Nick. Just go for it. Have some confidence.” Julie winked at you and you chuckle at her actions.

“There’s the Y/n I know. Now come on, we still need to get snacks. I gotta make my lie somewhat believable.” Julie nudged your side before making her way inside as you followed after he with a laugh.

The two of you walk back into the garage a few moments later where the boys met your glances. Luke was now moved onto your spot on the couch while Alex and Reggie hung around by the piano still. You rolled your eyes that Luke took your spot but at least he was gracious enough to move your computer. You walked over to him where he smirked as you made an attempt to move him out of the way.

“Get out of my spot.” You tease trying to move Luke out of the way again but he didn’t budge and instead kept holding that smirk on his lips. You rolled your eyes so you instead took a seat beside him and grabbed your laptop from the coffee table.

“I’ll move if you tell me what you think my love language is.” Luke says and you quickly met his eyes. You glanced at Alex, Reggie, and Julie for a moment where they only shrugged. You huffed under her breath knowing you had no way out of this now.

“I don’t know.” You say simply trying to get off of the topic but Luke kept pushing. He leaned in closer towards you and you could feel his breath on your neck.

“I think you do..” Luke says and you meet his gaze again. You purse your lips together before glancing back at your computer for a moment.

“Touch.” You say plainly and simply. You refused to meet Luke’s eyes as you furthered your answer, “I always noticing you touching Alex or Reggie in one way or another. Whether it’s something small or a hug or just a reason to touch them. It’s sweet.” You finish a small smile on your lips as you opened the tab you had been working on previously. A comfortable silence filled the room and you felt pretty content with your answer. It wasn't as bad or as embarrassing as you thought it would be. Luke was silent beside you and you were afraid to look at him so you just kept her gaze on your computer.

You didn’t actually know if you could touch the boys, you just assumed you couldn’t because Julie was the only one with the real special powers. You had just been randomly gifted parts of them somehow. You all just walked around each other because the guys found it slightly weird to just walk through people they knew. Luke stared at you beside him and he wanted to at least try. If anything, his hand would just fall through like it did with everyone, so slowly and carefully, Luke reached out to turn your chin so you would look at him. The guys raised his eyebrow at his movements and then, he touched you.

You felt his hand under your chin and you both did a double take. Luke quickly pulled his hand away in surprise that you actually felt that. The two of you exchanged a wondering and surprised glance.

“We just touched..”

#luke patterson #luke patterson x reader #julie and the phantoms #julie molina #luke patterson x y/n #love language #love langauges #japt #japt luke #japt alex #japt reggie #fanfiction #fluff #reggie jatp #alex jatp #willie jatp #flynn jatp #Luke Patterson imagine

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maryannaugerbooks · 3 years ago

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The Beginning of Something Good

Fandom: Stardew Valley

Word count: 1.9k

Warning: Makeout session

This piece is on AO3, Wattpad and Tumblr.

Océane is the new farmer in Pelican town. She quit her job at Joja Corporation and decided to follow her grandfather's footsteps and take care of Blue Coral, the farm he left her when he passed away.

After her initial shock of seeing the farm in a pitiful condition, she admired the wonderful beach surrounding the cabin she would call home. When she found out her grandfather was leaving her a farm, she didn’t expect it to be a beach farm!

Thankful for not being stuck in an office anymore, the long ash-colored-haired farmer got to work. She watered the crops, explored the mines and spent her afternoons fishing.

She settled into a routine, every day looking slightly different but also very much the same. That is, until that Tuesday evening.

Océane had realized she was out of seeds. She wanted to extend her garden and grow a bigger variety of vegetables but Pierre’s General Store would be closed the next day. Determined to get her seeds so that she could start planting them in the morning, she ran all the way to the store, swung the door open and greeted Pierre with a big wave.

“Hey Pierre. Sorry for coming in right before you close. Can I get some potato and green bean seeds please?”

Pierre handed over the seeds and Océane placed them in her bag. She wanted to get home quickly in order to cut down a couple trees to make more space to till more soil.

She swung her bag over her shoulder and started walking towards the exit. She half-turned around to wave goodbye to Pierre when the wind got knocked out of her.

Before she fell to the ground, a sturdy – and soft – hand grabbed her arm.

At first, she was too shaken to see who she ran into. Then, she regained her senses and saw a young man with long brown hair and mesmerizing green eyes.

Oceane was pretty sure her mouth was still open when the man said “Hi. I don’t think we’ve met. My name’s Elliott. I live in the cabin on the beach.”

She slightly shook her head and said, “Oh. I live on a beach too! How fun.”

She internally cringed at herself. How fun she said mockingly in her head.

Elliott chuckled and it was the most beautiful chuckle she’d ever heard.

Get yourself together. She scolded herself.

“Thanks for... catching me. I’ll see you around.” Océane left the store quickly and walked home, her heart beating fast and her face flushed.

When she got home, the farmer got straight to work. She didn’t want to think about what happened. She was definitely embarrassed but there was something more underneath her bruised ego that she didn’t want to admit.

---

After a few days of mining and fighting monsters - trying to reach the bottom of the damn mines - Océane was tired. Her shoulders were aching. Scratch that, her whole body was aching.

Feeling like she deserved a break, she made her way to the Stardrop Saloon. It was Friday night after all. She was excited to speak to Emily. She hadn’t seen her all week as they were both too busy working.

They became friends soon after her arrival in Pelican Town. They had met when the farmer got to the Saloon on her second day in town, desperate for some food. She had been fishing all morning and afternoon and had forgotten to eat. Her grandfather’s old house didn’t have a kitchen so she had hungrily made her way to the bar for a bite to eat. After ordering, Océane had sat at the bar and Emily and her talked about clothes, the universe and everything in between.

The local bar was booming with the regulars. Océane sat down at her usual spot, the barstool in the middle. Not the one closest to the cash and not the one closest to Shane. She didn’t particularly feel like getting cold remarks from the disheveled young man.

Also, by sitting in that spot – although not the original intention behind sitting there- Océane’s main goal was trying to hide Emily from Clint’s view. He was notorious for sending furtive glances her way all night. Emily was friends with Clint, but the farmer didn’t like him.

“Hey Emily. How’s your night?”

The blue-haired girl who was facing away from the bar cleaning some glass turned around and flashed a bright smile to Océane.

‘’Hey girl. Tonight’s pretty busy but that’s usual for Friday. How was your week? I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever.’’

Océane brought her hand to her forehead and rolled her eyes. ‘’I made a huge fool of myself on Tuesday. I’m still embarrassed.’’

Emily gave her that tell me more look so Océane continued, ‘’On Tuesday I went to Pierre’s to get some seeds and as I was walking towards the door, I turned around to say bye to Pierre and I ran into someone - hard. I think he said his name was Elliott. I had never seen him before.’’

Emily squealed which made Océane shush her. ‘’People are going to hear you!’’

Completely ignoring her friend, Emily subtly nodded in Elliott’s direction with her head. He was sitting at the table near the Jukebox with Leah.

After seeing the one who had made her heart race - from embarrassment, of course - Océane looked at Emily with wide eyes. ‘’Does he come here every Friday? How come I haven’t noticed him before?’’

Emily shrugged, ‘’He’s pretty quiet’’. After a pause she adds, ‘’you could buy him a drink. He likes a strong beer.’’

Appalled, Océane interjected ‘’Why would I do that? I don’t even know him!’’

‘’But he’s cute,’’ Emily said as if that was a good enough reason.

‘’I guess I have nothing to lose. If he rejects me, I’ll just dig a hole and bury myself in it.’’

Emily laughed, ‘’stop being so dramatic and hand him this beer. You’ll thank me later.’’

After staring at the beer for a couple of minutes, contemplating running away, Océane decided to get up and give Elliott the beer before it got warm. No one likes a warm beer.

She awkwardly walked towards his table, her feet feeling heavy. She was suddenly feeling self-conscious about the way she was walking.

When she got to the table, she realized that Leah had left. She was relieved. Océane set the beer on the table and said, ‘’I heard you like a strong beer.’’

He looked at her, surprised. ‘’This is for me? Marvelous!’’

‘’It’s for saving me from further embarrassment on Tuesday.’’ She said nonchalantly even though that’s not quite how she felt.

Elliott took a sip of the beer, licked his lips and motioned her to take a seat.

Her heart felt like it was about to explode in her chest, her face was warm but she kept it cool on the outside. ‘’How’s the beach life treating you?’’

‘’I like it. I moved here so I could get away from the big city and write.’’

‘’That’s why I moved here too. To get away from the big city, I mean. I couldn’t stand working at a desk all day,’’ Océane said, ‘’what do you write about?’’

“I typically write poems but I’m looking for inspiration to write my first novel.” Elliott took another drink. “What kind of books do you like to read?”

Océane’s cheeks got even warmer. “I like romance. It really helps me unwind and it gives me all the feels.”

The writer chuckled, “maybe my novel will be a romance in that case.”

Was he flirting with her?

“I would love to read it when you’re done.” She was genuine. She loved a good book, but she also wanted to see if Elliott was the kind of romantic she imagined him to be. She may or may not have been imagining scenarios between her and the writer as she was tilling the soil, planting her seeds and doing all her other farm work this week.

“It would be an honor to have you read my book,” Elliott responded with a smile.

Océane made to get up, gently pushing her chair away from the table with her hips. “I wish I could talk some more but I should get going, it’s getting late and I have a lot of work to do in the morning.”

“Let me accompany you home.”

Océane stared at the writer with wide eyes. Elliott quickly added, “only if you’d like me to, of course. It’s dark out and...” He hesitated before continuing, “it would be my pleasure to spend more time with you.”

The farmer’s heart started racing but she gave him a big smile before saying, “Sure, I’d love that.”

The cool spring air chilled her skin as they started walking towards the farm. Elliott noticed her rubbing her hands on her arms in an attempt to warm up. She watched as he removed his red jacket and handed it to her. “Thanks,” she said gratefully. His jacket smelled like old books.

They made small talk until they reached the front door of her cabin.

“Thank you for walking me home. I appreciate it,” Océane said. “Hold on a sec, I’ll give you your jacket so you don’t get cold on your way back to the beach.”

She removed the piece of clothing, already missing the warmth of it and the smell of books. Elliott’s gaze was on her as she handed him his jacket, their fingers brushing for longer than necessary.

Océane licked her lips and Elliott’s green eyes seemed mesmerized by the movement. She could tell he wanted to say something but he was hesitating.

“I probably shouldn’t be telling you this in case you don’t feel the same way, but I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since that day at Pierre’s.”

“Me either,” she breathed. He took a hesitant step forward and gave her a searching look. He was waiting for her approval. She looked directly in his eyes and nodded.

Elliott closed the distance between them, lifted his hand to her hair and brushed his lips against hers. Océane felt like she was going to melt on the balcony of her cabin.

She deepened the kiss and wrapped her arms around his neck. Elliott brushed his tongue against her lips and she opened to give him access.

The wood door of her cabin was now pressing against her back. One of Elliott’s hands braced him against the wood of the cabin while his other hand settled on her waist.

Océane lowered her hands from his neck to his chest, feeling the muscle there before lowering them towards his lower belly. She fidgeted with the hem of his shirt before sliding her fingers underneath feeling the warmth of his skin. Elliott gasped at the touch and Océane smiled against his lips.

His hands explored her curves like he wanted to remember the shape of her forever. They couldn’t get enough of each other. Océane finally allowed her hands to linger dangerously low.

Elliott pulled back, out of breath. “Let me take you out on a date first. Then, you can do whatever you want with me.”

“I guess I’ll see you tomorrow at 6 then,” She winked at him and kissed his cheek before entering her cabin, closing the door and leaning against it, heart racing.

She had a feeling this was the beginning of something good.

#stardew valley #stardew elliott #elliott stardew valley #sv elliott #fanfic #ao3 #wattpad #elliott and farmer #my writing #fanfiction writer

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delimeful · 5 years ago

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WIBAR Intermission: Cultural Differences

a commission for @secretlypansexualmango !! thank you so much for your patience with me during this difficult time, I hope you enjoy reading as much as i did writing it! :)

if you’re new to this AU, you can find the first story on tumblr here and the ao3 collection here!

warnings: anxiety, tense discussion, mention of nonconsensual drug use, medical experimentation, mention of child abuse, dehumanizing language, flashbacks, PTSD

Logan paced back and forth along his floor, hands strumming the air but not noting any particular information, just… moving. A nervous tic that he’d recently been struggling to repress around Virgil.

Speaking of.

“Patton, you are certain that Virgil will not wonder where you are and come to investigate?” he asked, turning on the balls of his feet to face the little Ampen.

“Yep, I showed him how to use the tech in the washroom and he said something about staying in there all day. Turns out Humans need water to clean, not dirt!” Patton tapped his fingers together consideringly. “Now I feel kind of bad about trying to get him to dust more often, no wonder he’s all grimy.”

Logan forced his hands to still so he wouldn’t record the information. That was the whole reason they were here, after all.

“Why are you so worried about the Human finding us huddling in your bedspace like a bunch of giggling adolescents?” Roman asked, adjusting his armor plates slightly so they didn’t pinch. He perked up for a moment. “Are we finally kicking him out?”

Patton frowned in disapproval at him, and he averted his eyes. “Joking! Just joking, Pat.”

Logan hummed lightly to recall their attention. “I am seeking advice in regards to the Human— or, Virgil, rather, but I don’t want to offend him or give him the wrong idea by openly excluding him from a conversation. Hence, covert gathering.”

Patton brightened— literally, his feathers aglow with excitement. “Oh, why didn’t you say so, Lo!”

Roman sunk further down, a grumble forming in his chest. “Yeah, why didn’t you say so. I don’t think I’ve got much to contribute about him compared to Patton.”

Logan inclined his head slightly in a Crav’n gesture to hold on for a little longer. “While I will admit that you have very different opinions on Virgil, I value both your perspectives equally and as such, would like to hear your honest thoughts on my query.”

Roman didn’t shift, but the grumble eased slightly, placated by Logan’s words. “Alright, what is it?”

Patton nodded encouragingly.“I’m all ears, kiddo! Feathears, that is!”

Logan didn’t dignify the atrocious pun with a response beyond his face pinching slightly. “I’m sure you all remember the incident we had recently, with the... yawning.”

At the reminder, Patton winced and Roman glowered.

Virgil had joined them for breakfast again the prior light cycle, a rare occurrence, and had nearly startled Logan out of his seat when he had stretched his jaw unnaturally wide with a crack, apropos of nothing. Patton had hurried to reassure them it was normal, and very much harmless, but it hadn’t prevented Roman from looking visibly on edge for the rest of the morning. Virgil had fled to his room early as a result.

“I believe that it would be beneficial for all of us to learn more about Human culture, and while I have scoured many texts for information, most of it has proven to be inaccurate or downright offensive. As a result, I’ve decided that I should attempt to ask Virgil directly to share,” Logan nervously fluttered his hands. “Ideally through a Vidi.”

Patton, who had gotten all fluffed up during his explanation, now paused slightly. “I think it’s a great idea for you to bond with Virgil, Lo! I’m not sure he’d be too keen on sharing minds, though. The idea seemed to make him nervous.”

Roman snorted.

“Yes, I predicted as much.” Logan gestured between the two of them. “Hence why I have gathered you to receive insight on how best to go about gaining his permission.”

His two closest friends shared a look, Patton having to crane his neck up considerably to do so. The Ampen piped up first.

“I say you should just ask him! What’s the worst that could happen?”

Beside him, Roman made a gesture to ward off bad luck, muttering about inviting chaos. Logan held a hand to his face to ward off any headaches.

“He could say no,” he emphasized, pointing out the obvious flaw.

“That is not the worst that could happen. And anyways, if he says no, it’s not the end of the universe. You can still make a valiant effort to convince him after the fact. Write a 20 page dissertation on all the reasons he should give it a shot, or bargain with jam, or any other nerd stuff. But if you try to go behind his back--”

“He’ll never trust you again,” Patton completed, antennae lowering at the thought. “Virgil is slow to trust, and for good reason. I know you of all people can understand that, Logan.”

“Actually, I was going to finish that with ‘you might never get a second chance to Vidi with anyone, because you’ll be dead.’ Humans don’t take lightly to intrusion,” Roman clenched his hands, gaze dark.

Patton drooped more, like he was attempting to become a puddle of sad Ampen. “I know you two aren’t as familiar with Virgil as I am, but… I’m telling you, he doesn’t want to hurt anyone. He’s probably even more scared of you than you are of him.”

“I am not scared of a Human,” Roman insisted, scales rattling in offense. “And anyhow, we aren’t talking about a little fuzzy pollinator from a flora planet, we’re talking about a Human. A deathworlder. I know he was merciful to you, Pat, and I’m glad, but that doesn’t mean we can trust him to go against his nature. The way he acts, the look in his eye… I’ve seen it before. So you’ll have to forgive me if I don’t believe for a second that he’s harmless.”

“Roman--!” Patton stopped short as the Crav’on rose to his feet and stormed out in a huff, dramatic as always. The small alien let out a frustrated trill, tugging on his antennae for a second before turning back to Logan.

“I never said that he was harmless,” he announced pointedly. “None of us are harmless, not even me. But just because he’s got the… the potential to be dangerous doesn’t mean we shouldn’t give him a chance. Try asking him about the Vidi, Lo, and if that doesn’t work out I’ll help you think of more options, okay?”

Frankly, Logan had been hoping for something more along the lines of a guide he could follow while striking a deal with Virgil, but he nodded anyhow. Sometimes researchers simply had to work with what little they had.

He spent the next few light cycles calculating the encounter, from his words to all the possible outcomes. He had plenty of time to consider such things, seeing as Virgil was particularly adept at avoiding him.

Though the Human was subtle about it, it was hard to miss the way he found an excuse to leave any room Logan was in more often than not. Even when he couldn’t make a hasty escape-- most often because Patton was sleeping on his person-- he was always following Logan’s movements from the corner of his vision. Tracking him. It was… nerve-wracking.

Logan was much more than a creature of instinct, though, and so he persisted despite the occasional shiver sent down his spine.

When he finally managed to get the Human alone, however, it happened completely unintentionally. He was fixing a middark snack before sleep, and had just put the jam back in the coolant box when a vague emotional pulse nearby made his skin prickle.

He paused. Neither of his shipmates would be so quiet while nearby, so… He squinted into the dim hallways, searching for movement. “Virgil?”

“Uh,” said the Human, from on top of the cabinets how had he even gotten up there— “Hey.”

Logan was suddenly thankful for his dulled physical response, since it prevented him from doing something embarrassing like jumping out of his carapace. “Hello. Might I inquire— May I ask why you are all the way up there?”

The vague shadow that was Virgil shifted slightly, before dropping to the floor with a muted thump that shook the ground. Logan hoped that he hadn’t left any imprints in the floor paneling; Roman would have a fit.

“Just, uh. Just felt like it,” he answered, avoiding Logan’s gaze. “I’ll get out of your way.”

“Wait, please,” Logan blurted, and to his surprise Virgil paused mid step. He quickly pulled himself onto a nearby stool, both so he could meet the Human’s eyes better and leave an exit available, seeing as a cornered Human was not one he wanted to deal with. “I had something I wanted to discuss with you, if that’s alright. Nothing bad, simply a request.”

Despite his attempt to be soothing, Virgil’s shoulders only seemed to rise further, a defensive gesture according to Patton. Logan attempted to look as non-threatening as possible.

“And what if it’s not alright?” Virgil challenged, voice low and rough as he glanced towards the hall entryway.

Logan folded his lower hands in his lap carefully, his words measured. “Then I shall ask again another time. It is late, after all. I don’t want to keep you from sleeping.”

Virgil made a half-exhale of amusement, or maybe resignation. Logan suspected it was because tonight was one of the nights Patton slept with him and Roman, nights that Logan suspected the Human often got little to no sleep. It was a concern to bring up at another time.

“Okay, fine, discuss away. But I reserve the right to leave any time.”

Logan blinked a few times, almost surprised that Virgil had actually agreed. He tapped his fingers together nervously— now came the difficult part. “My request is in regards to the incident at morning meal yesterday. Specifically, the misunderstanding about your ‘yawn’.”

Virgil visibly hid a wince. “I already apologized for that.”

“Unnecessarily, I believe,” Logan said, causing Virgil to dart a glance at him in surprise. “You know as little about us as we know about you. It’s unreasonable to expect you not to make a few mistakes.”

After a beat of stunned silence, Virgil shook his head slightly. “Try telling that to Roman,” he muttered.

“I did, actually,” Logan said, frowning slightly at the recollection. “Surprising nobody, he didn’t want to listen.”

“Wait, what?” Virgil asked, voice coming out a bit louder than before. “I thought you guys were like… cool. Uh, good. Friends.”

Logan forced himself not to interrogate the Human on the slang, noting his embarrassment at fumbling. “We are, now. When I first came aboard the Mindscape, however, Roman and I fought constantly.”

“No. Really?”

“Yes. We were-- and still are-- very opinionated individuals. Stubborn,” he clarified, seeing Virgil struggle with the unfamiliar word. “Patton had to intervene in our bickering more often than not.”

“Huh,” Virgil uttered, curious. Logan was pleased to note that he’d relaxed slightly, and pressed on.

“But that is a story for another time. My request is actually an attempt to help prevent such misunderstandings in the future. I would like to ask you about Human culture, in order to clear up common misconceptions and help me and the others recognize unfamiliar gestures or actions,” Logan ran the words through his mind, trying to see if he’d forgotten anything. “You’re free to say no, of course, I simply assumed that it would be easier for us all, but--”

“Logan.” Virgil waited for him to glance up before continuing. “This is a lot. I’ll… I’ll think it over, alright?”

Logan nodded, enthusiastic to not be rejected outright. “Of course. In that case, I am going to head to my quarters to rest. Don’t hesitate to seek me out if you would like elaboration on anything.”

The Human nodded, seeming deep in thought as Logan ducked his head in farewell and left. He could only hope that Virgil would be open to trying.

The next light cycle, Virgil appeared quite suddenly at the entry to his lab, never crossing the threshold.

“What are you going to do if I say no?” he asked, features clearer but also somehow harsher in the light. “Maybe I don’t want you to know anything about Humans, or me. What then?”

Logan hurriedly set aside the samples he’d been comparing, pushing his thick inspection lenses up so he could see the Human properly. He took a moment to think over the question. “Roman suggested that I write a dissertation-- that is, a sort of argument to convince you-- if you refused outright, but seeing as you’ve had time to consider your options already… I will take your refusal at face value and not pester you about it any longer.”

Virgil narrowed his eyes in a gesture that was most likely not an Ampen smile. “Just like that? Seriously?”

“I am always serious,” Logan told him, very seriously. “Though I do encourage you to speak with Patton on other potential solutions not involving me--”

“I’ll do it.”

“Pardon?” Logan asked, his ears twitching. Virgil raised his chin slightly, meeting Logan’s eyes solidly in challenge.

“I’ll do it,” he repeated, and Logan noticed the way his hands shook slightly at his sides. He slowly placed his lenses onto the countertop, turning to face Virgil fully.

“Would it be preferable to talk in the common area?” he asked, spreading his hands to accentuate the question. “We are simply exchanging information, there’s no need to do it here.”

Virgil raised an eyebrow at him, and then shoved his hands in his pockets, feigning nonchalance. “Sure, whatever.”

A short trek later, they were seated in the lounging area, Virgil a careful seat away. Logan had received permission to ‘take notes’ as the Human called it, and started off with questions that seemed simple enough.

Naturally, they immediately encountered problems.

“So, you do actually keep canids in your home for defense purposes?” Logan asked, hands stalling. “Is that not dangerous? Do you train them to not recognize the home’s residents as threats? I was under the impression all of Earth’s fauna was relatively vicious in order to survive.”

Virgil dragged a hand over his face. “I guess some people keep guard dogs, but most people just get them as like… companions. We take care of them and they live with us. We… ugh, I don’t know the word for it. We trained them to not be… angry? Wild? Way long ago.”

“Domestication,” Logan suggested, and then resisted a sigh when Virgil looked at him without comprehension. “Virgil, I would like to try something, if it’s alright with you. My species has the ability to link minds and share memories, referred to as a Vidi. It would allow us to bypass the language barrier and you could show me what life on Earth is like with far more clarity.”

Virgil was already shaking his head. “I don’t want you poking around in my head. I don’t know how it works on your planet, but thoughts are personal on Earth.”

“Nor on mine. I am not a mind reader,” Logan corrected wryly. “The Vidi is more like a form of shared thinking, and if you would like, I will take no part in paddling-- guiding where our thoughts take us. You will then have control over what you share and what you ask from me. Both Patton and Roman have linked with me in the past, and suffered no ill effects, if you are worried about cross-species Vidi.”

“Well, I am now,” Virgil muttered, and hunched his shoulders. “... Can I stop it?”

“Yes. It may take a few moments, since the flow of thought is unpredictable, but I have never gotten stuck in a link,” Logan tilted his head slightly, offering a hand. “Do you want to try something simple to test it?”

Virgil chewed on his lip for a click longer before reaching out and placing his own hand atop Logan’s.

Immediately, he was seeing from a different angle, different time, different eyes. The hall was dark, but he could see uncannily well in it, noting the outline of stairs in front of him. At the base of the stairs, a light illuminated a dog staring up at him pleadingly. An Australian Shepard, though he had no idea what that was.

“Zero, it’s three in the morning,” a familiar voice grumbled, Logan feeling echoes of the sound in his throat. The words were foreign, but he could understand the meaning. He observed the dog as the memory proceeded to stumble around the house and open a door to the night, releasing Zero into the yard.

‘This is bizarrely immersive,’ Virgil commented as the memory’s gaze turned up to the stars. ‘Like a dream. But… not as weird as I thought it might be.’ The memory flickered to a cartoon alien for a moment before stabilizing again, and Logan graciously ignored the lapse.

‘Just from this alone, I have a much better concept of dogs,’ he responded, his mental voice quite enthusiastic. ‘Can you show me the devices you mentioned earlier? The ones Humans ride for entertainment?’

‘Oh, yeah, roller coasters. That’s a good one.’

The world around them flickered, and then it was bright daylight streaming around them. The memory stepped forwards, leaving behind a line that had taken ages and climbing into a seat. Another human-- slightly older than Virgil, probably too old to be working this job-- stepped over and pushed the safety bar over the memory’s lap, locking them in securely.

The ride started, and Logan’s stress levels increased along with the memory’s sense of anticipation, peaking as they hit the top of the tracks and began to topple. The memory of Virgil’s stomach dropping was well-preserved, and fear-excitement-glee surged through the memory as the scenery blurred by too fast to process. After a period of time that was both too-long and too-short, the ride came to a stop.

Virgil’s smug amusement was tangible as Logan struggled to form words. ‘Humans do that for fun, you said?’

‘Yep.’

‘... I get the feeling this is going to be a truly interesting mindshare.’

Several alarming concepts later, including coffee, sleep deprivation, gender roles, and babies’ soft skulls, Logan was itching to take some time to journal all his thoughts out and also have a brief respite from horrifying implications.

Virgil snorted, which he had learned was a Human gesture of amusement rather than a Crav’n one of disdain. He visualized an image of Logan writing with all four hands in a book, and Logan responded with showing him the art form practiced back home, which involved exactly that. Drawing a full image at multiple points simultaneously was a honed skill for some Ulgorii.

‘This has been quite illuminating, however I am hoping to end it here,’ Logan requested, pulling them back on track.

Virgil hesitated for a moment, and then: ‘I want to check something. Really quick. I need to know.’

Logan had barely agreed when the scene shifted again, this memory tinged with haze around the edges. Physical sensation was dulled somewhat, but the cold metal underneath their back was a clear enough feeling. White walls above them, and aliens in thick bodysuits leaned over them. The memory was too fuzzy to recall what was being taken, but there was a sense of relief that it didn’t hurt. Not adrenaline, then.

Above them, a couple of the harvesters spoke. Logan recognized Virgil’s intent too late to do anything to prevent it. He couldn’t simply stop understanding Common, after all.

“Drain duty is so boring. You think it’d be entertaining with a Human, but no, all it does is lie here with those freaky dead eyes,” one complained. “Are they sure they didn’t accidentally grab a braindead one?”

“You wouldn’t say that if you’d been here for the Dren drain,” the other responded, voice morbidly fascinated. “Thing’s practically feral, the way it lashes out. I don’t envy the escorts who have to drag it back to its cage afterwards, even with the drugs.”

“If it’s so beastly, why not just treat it like one? Put two together till they breed and train the baby to be less of a monster, same as we do with the troublesome creatures,” the harvester suggested, jabbing a claw at Virgil’s form. Logan felt sickened. ‘Virgil--’

“And risk them tearing each other apart? Humans are rare as is, there’s no way the Uppers would authorize something that might end with both dead.” The harvester took a few paces to the side, meeting the memory’s gaze with complete apathy. “Those scientists that have dibs on the body want it intact for dissection, or else we’re getting fuckall for the payment.”

The memory flickered, unstable, to an alien that only visited when they were doing the painful tests, wearing what Logan recognized as scholarly gear instead of the customary bodysuit. Virgil remembered they had snapped out words with one of the smugglers, numbers, prices, bargaining for his corpse--

Back to the little white room where they drained him, bit by bit.

“It’s pretty sedate, considering,” A smuggler prodded him, to no response beyond a brief flicker of eyelids.

“Of course it is, we picked it up off the planet fresh. Stupid thing can’t understand a thing we’re saying, so what’s there to panic about?”

The memory fractured, splitting into a thousand different fragments that flashed by with increasing speed-- panic attacks in his cell, unable to count the days he’d been locked in the too-small space, the ring, being hosed down like a rabid animal.

‘Logan,’ Virgil managed weakly, his grip on the Vidi loosening, ‘change it.’

In his alarm at Virgil’s condition, he practically yanked the share back to his own memories. He was too concerned to focus on what or where exactly he was remembering, until it had already snapped into clarity around them. He should have known better.

The memory was a mirror of Virgil’s, summoned by Logan’s automatic recall. His younger self sat on a sterile white counter, kicking his feet as around him, four machines worked to draw blood from each of his arms. He moved to shift the share again, but Virgil nudged him, distracted by the surprise.

‘What… what is this?’ he asked, despite the fact that he was surely receiving information from the memory’s perspective as they spoke.

Logan sighed, watching as a pleased doctor removed the equipment and shuffled him off to be escorted back to his room. ‘As I told you before, you are certainly not the only one to deal with trauma or flashbacks on this ship.’

“You promised me a new book,” the memory said with the voice of a child who had grown up too fast. “I sat quietly, so I get a new book, right?”

“Of course, of course,” the doctor waved him off, already moving to bottle and package the blood to be sold. Ulgorian blood, which would make a fair amount of coin at market for its use as a paralyzing toxin. “Continue being such an obedient, quiet child and you will have any book you desire, Aconite.”

Logan finally broke the Vidi off, opening his eyes as Virgil jolted sharply across from him. He studied the Human’s complexion for a moment, and then reached into the table drawer for a water jug. “Drink something. I believe you have experienced the beginnings of a panic attack during our share.”

He held the water out patiently until Virgil took it, pulling back to give him space. “Though I had my suspicions, I now see why you reacted the way you did to my designation as a self-identified scientist.”

Virgil laughed hoarsely, sipping at the water. “Yeah. Sorry. I didn’t know--” He cut himself off sharply. “You won’t do anything to me. Patton told me, and I think I knew it too, really. I was just... nervous. That you’d ask for more than I could give--”

“--or change the parameters before you could ever reach them,” Logan finished, lacing his fingers together in a wry Crav’n gesture. “There’s no need to apologize. I understand, as you now know.”

“Sorry about that,” Virgil repeated. “I didn’t mean to peek at your trauma.”

“Again, no need. It’s nothing I haven’t already come to terms with,” Logan said, and then offered him a few thumbs ups. “We are cool, as I believe the term is used.”

Virgil gave him a small grin, and Logan finally understood what Patton meant when he called Virgil’s teeth-bearing friendly.

After a discussion on how PTSD affected the mind share, they settled for focusing on simply communicating through Common. It would be better for Virgil’s language growth, and reduce the amount of traumatic flashbacks they were both exposed to. If either of them got frustrated, they simply left off to discuss the matter another cycle.

This was how, a rotation later, Logan found himself enthusiastically quizzing a Human on his dietary habits.

“I know that there are Humans who raise livestock, presumably for meat. Do Humans prefer raw meats or cooked ones? Or are there other ways to prepare animal flesh? Is it determined by individual preference?”

Virgil waited patiently, ducking under one of Logan’s flapping hands as he moved to sit down. “We eat all kinds of stuff, Specs.”

“Ah. Should we stock up on blood at our next port, then?”

A startled laugh, though Logan was only half-joking. “Okay, all kinds of stuff like plants and some minerals.”

Logan made a note to correct his notes, again. “Another incorrect assumption... I was under the impression that human omnivorous tendencies were only for survival scenarios, similar to your ability to endure blood loss. Most texts say that humans are primarily carnivores.”

“No, we’re pretty omnivorous.” Virgil shrugged. “Some people are vegetarian-- or, herbivores, I guess, but that’s a personal choice dependent on all sorts of things. We evolved to be omnivorous, we’ve got the flat teeth and the pointy ones, see?” He pulled a lip down to show his teeth, which were in fact thick and rounded in the back.

Logan half-lunged forwards, inspecting the inside of his mouth carefully. “You’re absolutely right! While you have the canines for biting and tearing meat off the bone, you also have molars for masticating tough plant matter! Oh, of course Humans don’t actually drink blood, there are evolutionary signifiers for such things and Human blood likely has little to none of the nutritional value that your body needs. Fascinating! Are these made of bone?”

It was at this moment that Roman walked in. There was a pause in which Logan realized that at some point he had moved to stick most of his hand in Virgil’s mouth to better examine his dental structure.

“Logan,” Roman started, deceivingly composed, “if you lose a finger by being a huge nerd, I am going to freak it.”

Logan executed a ‘wink’ to Virgil before responding. “Not to worry, Human teeth are dull enough that they are only dangerous if significant jaw strength is applied. I do not believe Virgil will bite me. Correct?”

“Uhn,” Virgil grunted in affirmation, spit starting to spill out of his mouth. Despite his reassurance, he looked vaguely uncomfortable with the situation. Logan hurriedly withdrew.

“Oh sure, you totally know he’s not going to bite you when he is literally drooling!” Roman howled, before turning on his heel and walking right back out of the commons. “I am too tired for this. Call me when you’re done being an insane scientist in our living room.”

Virgil wiped his mouth off on his sleeve, voice sardonic. “Doesn’t he know by now that mad scientist is your permanent state of being?”

“I have no idea why you would say such a thing. I am a perfectly calm and composed scientist,” Logan responded in a monotone, turning his nose up when Virgil started laughing. “How dare you imply otherwise. The indignity of it all. Woe is me.”

“That’s what you get for inviting a malicious human onboard,” Virgil snarked back, leaning back. “Too bad, you’ll regret it to the end of your days.”

“No,” Logan answered with a wry twist of his lips, “I don’t think I will.”

#sanders sides #ts virgil #ts logan #ts patton #ts roman #wibar #watch it burn and rust #commissioned works #space au #analogical boys share some trauma: the fic!#ive been so excited to write this one you guys have no idea #writing #my writing #please forgive me if some editing is off i am v tired

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ripley95 · 4 years ago

Text

Echoes of Old Embers

Chapter 6

Pairing: F!Shepard/Kaidan Alenko

Rating: T

Chapter length: 3.3K

Story Synopsis:

After surviving the war, one of Shepard’s biggest regrets was rejecting Kaidan at Apollo’s. Fate has a way of bringing Jane and Kaidan back into each other’s lives. A misunderstanding with his family makes Kaidan and Shepard relive old history and question where they stand.

Link to Chapter 1 on AO3

Chapter Synopsis:

Kaidan’s youngest sister catches Kaidan and Shepard in an awkward situation, deepening her misunderstanding of their relationship in a way that becomes hard to refute.

Link to Chapter 6 on AO3

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Read the chapter here below the cut:

Shepard began to open her eyes slowly, still in a hazy stupor that came with sleep. She was surprised to find that it was already dark outside, her last memory being from the afternoon. It felt like only minutes had passed, but it must have been hours. She didn’t even have a moment to wake up and make sense of what happened before a noise at the door shot a bolt of adrenaline throughout her entire body.

“Well, don’t you two look cozy?” Maisie said teasingly from the doorway of the Cabin.

Shepard sat up with a jolt, looking down at Kaidan, his eyes still closed, barely aware of what was going on. She had already gathered that they must have ended up falling asleep together as she comforted him, but she hadn’t realised that she was lying right on top of him until right now. She couldn’t even move, she was so baffled as to how she let this happen.

Shepard finally began to feel stirring underneath her as Kaidan was taking longer to wake to the noise than she had. He put a hand on her waist as though it was instinctual. That feeling when you’re in a relationship with someone and the first thing you want to do when you wake up is to seek out that warmth and comfort from them. He’d done it before during the brief time that they actually were together, when touches like that felt so natural. It was yet another thing she missed. He finally began to open his eyes, rubbing the sleep from them with his free hand, and started to look around. He met Shepard’s gaze, and he peeled his hand off of her waist just as instinctively as it had found her only seconds before. He finally looked towards the door to see his sister standing there, looking more thrilled than ever.

“Shit,” Kaidan muttered under his breath as he started to sit up straight.

Shepard agreed with the sentiment for plenty of reasons and moved off of him immediately to sit on her own separate side of the couch, not that it would help matters at this point. She was sure the damage was already done, both of them looking entirely guilty and suspicious.

“Not in a relationship, eh? Holding hands earlier, now catching you on the couch, cuddled up nice and close. Maybe you haven’t been in enough relationships to know what one looks like, but let me tell you, this looks like a relationship to me.” She said it entirely pleased with herself, arms crossed with a cocky confidence on her face.

Kaidan glared back at her, nowhere near as pleased with the accusation.

“I don’t hear you refuting it.”

He rubbed his forehead and let out a huff of air, annoyed by the circumstances. “Damn it, Maisie, you know this is supposed to be my private area.”

“Is that supposed to be you refuting it?” she said with an even bigger grin.

“It’s really not what you think,” Kaidan said, frustration lacing his words. “Besides, you know this area is mine. You shouldn’t be here anyway.”

“Yeah, well, you haven’t been here in years. I kind of took it as my hangout before the war started.”

“I guess that explains all the romance books in here now,” he said in his own teasing tone.

“Oh, shut up. Half of these are yours, and you know it.”

Kaidan let out the slightest snort of laughter, looking amused at the accusation and not denying it.

Shepard turned to him with a smile, entertained by the idea. She had to admit, ever since Kasumi got her into the genre, it had become a guilty pleasure. Maybe they’d have to trade favourites later.

“Oh my god, you guys are totally smitten,” Maisie said, noticing the look on Shepard’s face. “There’s no way you’re going to convince me that you’re not together now.”

Kaidan stared at his feet, letting out a sigh.

“Oh come on, is it really that bad that I figured this out? I already told you, if you’re keeping this a secret because of the regs, you should know that no one’s going to report you here,” Maisie said, earnestly.

Kaidan glared at her. It was clear that he had given up on trying to convince her otherwise. The evidence was stacked against them anyway thanks to their earlier antics and this mishap.

“All right. Be that way then,” Maisie said, unsatisfied with not getting an admission of guilt out of either of them, yet still pleased with herself for ‘figuring it out.’ “But anyway, I’m only here because you weren’t answering your omni-tool. Mom’s been trying to call you. She’s gotten your room ready,” she said, another grin forming on her face. “Though, I suspect neither of you will be needing much sleep tonight.”

“That’s enough, Maisie,” Kaidan said, not liking what she was implying.

“Fine. I’ll just leave you to it then,” she said with a wink before she finally left.

Kaidan let out a long frustrated sigh, resting his head on the back of the couch in defeat.

Shepard leaned forward, rubbing her forehead, upset with how bad of a mess they had gotten themselves into. She already felt like it was a mistake to hold his hand earlier, wondering how much she’d complicated their predicament, but now it seemed like any “relationship” between the two of them was practically undeniable. Not only that, but if she thought holding hands was an intimate gesture, what did that say about falling asleep on top of someone? She couldn’t help feeling like she crossed some kind of line. At least this didn’t happen on purpose. She knew that Kaidan would be understanding of it. That did nothing to help her inner thoughts of wishing she had woken up snuggled up next to him in a way that wasn’t an accident, though. Another regret to add on top of the growing pile since agreeing to come here. It was too easy to be drawn towards him when they were around each other. That didn’t exactly make it easy for her to maintain the romantic distance that she wanted to.

Kaidan finally stood up from the couch, and she took that as a signal to follow suit. They looked at each other somewhat awkwardly, before they both said, “I’m sorr-” at the same time.

They both let out an embarrassed laugh, the tension dissipating slightly.

“I’m not even sure what happened,” she said, genuinely confused at how easily they had fallen asleep and nuzzled up to each other.

Kaidan shook his head as a way to absolve her from any guilt. “Me neither, but uh… thank you, Jane.”

‘Jane.’ The last time he had ever called her that was at Apollo’s when he was asking if she wanted to try being in a relationship again. Ever since her rejection, it had been nothing but ‘Shepard.’ Perhaps she was reading too much into it. It was just her name after all, and this was a more personal setting than a warship. He was bound to be a little more relaxed here. There was no reason that it should have meant anything. The rational explanation behind it did nothing to stop her heart from fluttering at the idea.

“I think I really needed that,” he said, looking genuinely thankful. “And it means a lot that you stayed.”

“Don’t worry about it,” she said with a curt nod. What she wanted to say was that she’d be there for him any time he needed it. That she’d hold his hand and wipe away his tears, and that he wouldn’t have to feel alone. Instead, she went for something genuine but stayed in appropriate territory. “Your dad sounds like he was an amazing man.”

“He was. I was lucky to have him,” Kaidan said before stepping out of the way of the door, and showing her out.

They walked silently in the dark towards the house, the air was noticeably more chill than it was earlier in the day. She figured Maisie was probably right. She didn’t think there would be much of any sleep to be had, though not for the reasons that Maisie had been insinuating. She anticipated a night full of tossing and turning, contemplating what it was like to wake up in Kaidan’s arms again after so long. His scent was still lingering in her nose, and she could still feel his warmth. He provided a sense of safety and comfort that she missed. She’d never regretted her rejection of him at Apollo’s more than she did right now, after having a taste of what she’d been missing out on this whole time.

“Hey, uh, before we get back to the house, I just wanted to say that I’m sorry with everything that’s happened with Maisie.”

Shepard looked over to him in disbelief. “Why are you the one apologising? You didn’t do anything wrong. I seem to remember being the one mistakenly thinking it would be funny to hold your hand earlier.”

“Well, I also went along with it. I’ll admit, I thought it was actually pretty funny given how she was acting at lunch, but now it looks like we’ve dug ourselves into a bit of a weird hole here.”

Shepard let out a sigh. “Yeah,” she dragged out. “I’m not really sure how we’re going to get out of this one,” she said with a smirk, trying to at least find the humour in it.

“After what she just saw, I don’t know if there is a way out of it. When she’s convinced of something, it’s hard to sway her mind,” Kaidan said with a small laugh. “I just don’t want you to feel uncomfortable about us waking up like that, and her making assumptions.”

She did feel uncomfortable, but not because of any of that. The more significant issue for her was how strong her feelings for Kaidan had become. It was the same reason she worried about coming out here this whole time. She could ignore how she felt about him when she was stuck in London, but with everything that’s happened since seeing him in Vancouver again, it was becoming increasingly more difficult to deny how she felt.

“It was an honest mistake. I don’t particularly mind, I just hope that it doesn’t cause problems for you,” she countered.

“Nah, I can’t imagine that it would. I’m almost certain that Maisie’s already told the rest of the family, but they tend to leave well enough alone. I honestly don’t know if they’d believe her or not, but I do know they won’t make as big of a deal out of it if they do. At least they won’t be rubbing it in.”

Shepard nodded in acknowledgement, accepting that answer. She figured with everything Maisie had seen, it could lead to that kind of thing anyway.

“Are you sure you’re okay with all of this?”

Shepard smiled sympathetically at that. Now she was also upset for making Kaidan feel guilty about everything. “It’s really not a big deal. I’m still just grateful to have a place to stay for now, so I don’t mind putting up with some harmless rumours, especially when I’m the one that poked the fire in the first place. We should probably quit joking around, though,” she said, not wanting to make matters worse.

Kaidan nodded in agreement. “Probably a good idea,” he said as they finally reached the house. “But anyway, I suppose now is as good a time as any to show you my old room.”

“After you,” Shepard said with a smile as they went into the house and up the stairs, the old wood creaking under their feet as they went.

They finally reached a door that Shepard had to presume went to Kaidan’s room. He opened it and stepped in, waiting for her to follow. The first thing she noticed was the bed. That’s right. She had forgotten that they would have to be sharing.

“Don’t worry, we’ll figure something out,” Kaidan said, noticing Shepard studying the sleeping arrangements.

The bed was big enough for both of them. Shepard had half a mind to say that they’d already fallen asleep together on the couch, so what was sharing a bed at this point? She thought better of it, but that didn’t change the fact that the bed was, in fact, big enough for the two of them.

“We can sleep head to toe. Just like in combat training, right?” Shepard said, punching him in the arm lightly, and incredibly awkwardly, as though he were her guy pal, reminiscing about the old days in the Alliance. She immediately regretted it and wanted to chastise herself for not knowing how to handle herself around him. She was upset for acting like this was some school-aged crush again. She kept her mouth shut, knowing that if she let anything escape it, her voice would crack. Luckily, Kaidan didn’t seem to react as though it were all that strange.

“Only if you’re sure.”

“I’m sure,” she said after clearing her throat awkwardly.

“All right, I guess that solves that. I’ll take the foot.”

Still being chivalrous as always. At least that wasn’t the worst compromise in the world, so Shepard just accepted the offer graciously.

“There’s an ensuite bathroom over here, which was a blessing growing up with three sisters.”

Shepard laughed at that. She wasn’t much for vanity, but she knew it could still take a long time to get ready, and she could imagine that it would have been a pain having to fight over the bathroom with three sisters. “I guess I’m lucky that I mostly only ever had to share one with my mom,” Jane said with a smile.

“Yeah. It was never fun when we all went to the apartment in Vancouver. We didn’t have the luxury of having so many bathrooms there,” he said, looking through the closet. “Looks like mom already brought our bags up,” he said, pointing to them on the shelf. “Otherwise, this is it. This is where I grew up,” Kaidan said with a wistful smile, pointing to the room by way of giving her permission to look around.

That encouraged Shepard to give it a proper examination. She had never really given much thought to where he must have grown up, but the more she looked around, the more she could see little pieces of him. She walked over to a poster on his wall and turned back at him.

“An Alliance recruitment poster?”

Kaidan tried to contain the smile that spread across his face. “Listen, I haven’t redecorated in a while.”

Shepard looked at him with mirth in her eyes. “I didn’t mean to tease. I had one in my room growing up, too. Mine didn’t last as long. You know, constantly reassigned to boarding school, or wherever my mom was stationed. Eventually, it just got lost in the shuffle. Otherwise, who knows? Maybe mine would still be up, too,” she said, almost surprised by the similarity. “Crazy to think we’re on these posters now, isn’t it?”

“You could say that again. When I joined the military, I didn’t exactly expect to become a face of the Alliance.”

“Yeah, me neither,” Shepard said. They both knew the problem all too well since they saw Libby’s reaction.

Shepard glanced around the room more. There were a few medals and trophies displayed and some art and pictures of his family. He had some more books and datapads organized neatly on a bookshelf with a nice desk by the window. She also noticed the blackout curtains. Probably for his migraines whenever he’d get them at home. Every little piece she picked out, felt very much like him.

“I like it,” she said as she finished looking around and turned back to him.

“Thanks. It’s nothing fancy or anything, but it was mine,” he said with a smile.

Another awkward silence passed between them, Kaidan brushing the hairs on the back of his neck with his hand.

“Well, anyway, it’s getting late,” he said. “Not sure if you’re tired or not, but I think I’m going to settle in for the night.”

“I could sleep.” It was a lie. She’d never been more awake in her life. Still, she figured being restless in bed was better than being left alone with Maisie and some potentially prodding questions that she didn’t feel like answering.

“Okay. You can have this bathroom. I’ll take the one across the hall.”

“Thanks,” she said with a smile as she brushed passed him towards her bag.

She got changed and cleaned up as fast as she possibly could, not wanting to leave Kaidan waiting on her. She made her way back out into the room and made her way over to the bed. She hadn’t even thought about it, but habit took her to the right side, where she sat down gently, almost regretting it immediately. They hadn’t shared a bed together for all that long. It was really only briefly during their shore leave after defeating Saren, but the habit of having a side of the bed had stuck. It had become her side of the bed, even when there was no one else in it, leaving space for its rightful owner.

She looked at the empty side solemnly, wondering if it would be awkward for him that she chose this side. Maybe he wouldn’t even notice. She hoped she was overthinking the whole thing.

Then he walked into the room, as though he was summoned by her thoughts, not even giving her a chance to reconsider. Her head turned towards him, trying to see if he noticed.

“Already chosen a side of the bed, I see.”

That answered her question. “Yeah. I hope you don’t mind,” was all she decided to say. Letting him in on her thoughts would do neither of them any good.

“Of course not. I’m flexible, so whatever you prefer is fine,” he said, moving to the other side.

He sat down, and Shepard could feel the bed dip slightly on the other side, his back directly to hers as they both stared at opposite sides of the room. All of the memories of them settling into bed came flooding back to her, and the tension was almost too much for her to bear.

Luckily, the torture wasn’t extended as she finally felt Kaidan grab for a pillow from the head of the bed and put it towards the foot, lifting up the blankets and settling in.

“Goodnight, Jane,” he said, prompting her to look at him. He gave her a warm smile. “Don’t hesitate to wake me if you need anything.”

She smiled back at him with a nod of acknowledgement. He took that as comfort enough to roll over onto his side, looking away from her to get comfortable. She followed suit, getting comfortable on her own side. She stared at the wall in front of her, everything about it screamed ‘Kaidan.’ Every little thing in her view, serving as a reminder for where she was and who she was with, wishing that the circumstances were different. She braced herself for the long night ahead, and finally replied, “Goodnight, Kaidan.”

#f!Shenko #f!Shepard/Kaidan Alenko #f!Shepard #Kaidan Alenko #mass effect #fanfiction #mass effect fanfiction #angst #mini slowburn #friends to lovers #accidental dating #post-war #my fic on Tumblr #my writing

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takeiteasypeasybaby · 4 years ago

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Save Me: Chapter 60 - I Know You

~Hey guys! Chapter 60 is out now :) I can't believe I’ve posted 60 chapters on tumblr :0 Thank you to everyone who has been following this story since the very beginning and to those who have just joined, I appreciate you all more than you know <3~

Molly and Negan make their relationship public as Negan struggles with what is best for the one he loves.

'What about you?' I asked worriedly as I looked up to see his smiling face.

'What d'ya mean?' he asked.

'Michonne will put you back in your cell when she finds out you escaped' I said sadly.

He nodded.

'Yeah, she probably will. But hopefully she'll understand' he said tiredly.

'We're in this together remember, no exceptions' I said smirking.

He chuckled and repeated, 'no exceptions'.

He held my hand as we started to walk back until I stopped, making him turn back around.

'Life's too short, I don't wanna waste a single moment. Let's just be together, fuck everyone else' I said throwing my hands in the air.

'Not sure how your fellow Alexandrian's will feel about that' he chuckled as he played with my hand.

'I don't care, I want you, I want us and I'm tired of putting everyones happiness above mine' I said pleadingly.

'So we do this' Negan said excitedly as I nodded, 'we do this'.

'No exceptions' he uttered smirking.

'No exceptions' I repeated as we intertwined our fingers together and walked back.

I had butterflies in my stomach the whole way, anticipating what was to come.

I looked up at Negan to see that he was just as anxious as I was and he was rarely ever nervous about anything.

He usually concealed his nerves with humour but I could always tell when he was really nervous by his complete silence because he usually loved to talk.

We had stayed out quite a while and the sun was now starting to rise so I knew labourers would be starting their work.

Plus, Michonne liked to get up early so I knew she would be out and about.

As we got closer to the fence, I could hear the hustle and bustle of voices.

I climbed up the fence when Negan gave me a boost and he climbed up after me.

We dropped down into the compound just at the back of my house and as we peered around, we noticed that no one had seen us.

'See, she doesn't have to know' I whispered to him as we strolled through the street.

Michonne spotted us while she was in the field and furrowed her brows, probably wondering where Negan's guard was.

She started to walk over to us which made Negan let go of my hand.

I turned to him and frowned in confusion, thinking he had chickened out when all of a sudden he turned to face me directly.

He placed his hands gently on my face and planted a deep kiss against my lips for all to see.

I raised my eyebrows in shock, but soon melted into the kiss as my hands snaked around his torso.

I could tell he was going for an all or nothing kind of situation, so I deepened the kiss.

My tongue traced along his bottom lip as I nibbled gently, begging for access to his sweet mouth which made him smirk.

His tongue playfully flicked against mine as our hands roamed all over each other.

I had actually forgotten that people would be staring at us right now as my hands travelled down to his ass.

I had to physically stop myself from going to far, even though Negan had no problem with that and when I pulled away he actually leant in further, trying to make it last longer.

We smiled as we pressed our noses together and he planted one last light kiss against my lips before he sauntered back to his cell, whistling as he went.

'Hey neighbour!' he said enthusiastically as Seth came running out and hovered around him, prodding him back into his cell.

I just stared at the ground, still dazed by that fucking amazing kiss!

I smiled as I touched my lip as it still tingled from his touch.

I looked up to see that all the workers had stopped and were just staring open mouthed at me.

I hesitated to look at Michonne but as my eyes flickered over to her, I saw the furious look on her face.

Shit.

I mean I knew that was gonna happen and I thought that she was gonna walk over and punch me or lock me up in a cell but instead she just turned on her heels and walked away.

As soon as she left, the workers started to slowly get back to work and at that moment, I turned around to walk back to my house when I saw Lydia standing behind me.

She was shocked to say the least and stormed off angrily.

'Lydia! Wait, let me explain, please?' I said as I followed her.

She didn't respond but instead stormed back into the house, up the stairs and out onto the terrace.

'Lydia, please' I continued as I saw her leaning over the railing, looking out onto the compound.

'I thought that you were in trouble, that someone had taken you or killed you. I thought my mother had done that, but you were just out there with your boyfriend making out?!' she shouted.

I scowled, saying 'that's not fair' as she rolled her eyes.

'I should have told you about Negan, but it was complicated, it still is' I pleaded as I came to lean against the railing next to her.

'I hear people all the time talking about this guy 'Negan' and how he's a monster and that's why he's in a cell, but here you are kissing the guy?!' she shouted, still enraged.

'I'll tell you everything Lydia, just ask' I said calmly as she exhaled and turned sharply to face me.

'Why do they hate him? And why don't you?' she asked more calmly now.

I sighed and nodded.

'Negan used to be the leader of a group named the Saviours. Their compound was the Sanctuary and they took from people to feed their own. I didn't agree with that aspect but I saw how they saved people, helped make them strong for this world. Michonne's partner, Rick Grimes, he brought us all here and before he died. He fought against Negan and the Saviour's tyranny. He fought for our freedom because of what Negan did, what he took from Rick' I started to say until I took a deep breath before I continued.

'Negan killed people we loved, other Saviour's killed more. That's why they hate him, but they only saw that side, they never knew him like I did. I went to the Sanctuary to try and kill Negan and he spared me, wanted me to join his forces. I denied a dozen times until I saw what he was trying to build' I said slowly.

'I never became a Saviour, but Negan and I, we just had a connection, a bond. I tried to deny it, I felt so guilty that the man my people were fighting was the man I loved. But, like I said, they didn't know him like I did. I saw his potential for goodness, I could tell he wanted to change and I was right because he did. So yes, he has done monstrous things, but he isn't a monster' I said calmly as Lydia just listened attentively.

'You love him?' she asked questioningly.

I smiled and said 'I do, always have, always will'.

'If love was a choice, I wouldn't choose this because us being together has caused so much pain, but you can't control your heart and sometimes it's more dangerous to fight it' I said seriously.

'That's why you kissed, in front of everyone?' she asked.

'It's our time now, it was never right before, but after everything...I don't want to waste a single moment' I said seriously as she smiled slightly.

'Okay' she said nonchalantly.

'Okay?' I replied, shocked by now understanding she was.

'I get it, people didn't want Henry and I to be together but we couldn't deny it, so I know how that feels' she said smiling sadly.

I nodded as we hugged on the terrace.

'Michonne looked pretty pissed' Lydia said worriedly.

'Yep, but she's seen how much Negan's changed over the years. He protected her daughter and would take a bullet for anyone of us here now. She knows that' I said assuredly.

'For the record, I think Negan's a cool guy' she said smiling.

'Uh huh, so do I have your approval?' I asked in faux seriousness.

'Yes, of course. It's like you're my mo-' she started to say before she stopped herself, yet we both knew what she was about to say.

Mom.

My eyes widened, as did hers as we just stared at each other awkwardly.

She gasped and her eyes darted around frantically.

'I have to go, uh, help Michonne with a thing' she said as she rushed off the terrace and left the house.

I was left there speechless as a little smile crept across my face, was she thinking about me being her mom?

A tear rose to my eye as I thought about how much she must trust me.

Lydia's POV//

I paced across the field hurriedly, trying to forget what I almost just said.

Wow, that shit was embarrassing.

I mean, Molly had been more of a mom to me than my own had been in all the years I had been on this Earth.

I snapped out of my thoughts as I darted past Michonne's house and headed for Negan's cell, making sure no one was watching, especially not Molly.

I hesitated about doing this, but I knew now that Negan cared about Molly's wellbeing so he was the one to ask.

I just couldn't bare the thought of anyone else I cared about getting hurt and I knew Molly would kill my mom if she got out of the compound.

I mean that's why she was out there last night, even though she would never admit that to me.

I marched down to the cell, past the guard and saw Negan reading in the corner of the room.

'Hey kiddo' he said happily.

'Why are you back in here?' I asked, pretending I didn't know the answer.

'Agh, Michonne's not too impressed with me right now, so I'm back in the dog house' he said chuckling.

I nodded, 'because of the kiss' I pressed.

'Yeah, that. Is this not something Molly should be talking to you about?' he said awkwardly.

I shook my head and said, 'I just want her to be happy'.

He chuckled and said, 'I want that to'.

'Listen, the real reason I came down here was because I'm worried and I don't know who else to talk to' I said nervously as I sat down on a chair.

He frowned, saying 'alright kid, shoot' as he closed his book.

'I don't think Molly is doing okay. She's trying to hold it together but something is broken. She's acting weird and I think she might go after my mom, which I get but she could get herself killed' I said worriedly.

He nodded and sighed.

'Yeah, you and me both kid. I think you're right and now that I know you are smart as hell, I'm gonna take your word for it' he said sadly.

'I'll speak to Michonne, just don't mention this to Molly, okay?' he asked as I just nodded before I went.

Negan's POV//

'What do you want?' Michonne said as she stormed into the cell.

I had asked Seth to get her because I needed to talk.

'I know I'm public enemy number one right now, but this is serious. It's about Molly, she needs help' I said seriously as I pleaded.

She scoffed, saying 'yeah I could see that when she engaged in a vomit inducing kiss with you'.

I chuckled as I replied 'a tad harsh, but I get it. Look, after Tara, she's losing it. She says she's holding it together but last night, she left the compound to go kill walkers and almost put herself in danger in the process'.

'How the hell do you know that?' she asked angrily.

'Because I went after her. I had to Michonne, if I hadn't gotten there in time, she would have died so you can thank me later' I said in faux amusement.

'I want Seth removed from his duties and that window barred up, you here me?' she said to one of the workers who replied, 'yes boss'.

I sighed and mumbled 'shit' under my breath.

'If you so much as put one toe out of line, I won't hesitate to relieve you of your duties' she growled as she was about to leave the room.

'Michonne, I am begging you, just make sure Molly cannot leave Alexandria, at least not yet' I pleaded as she continued to leave.

#saveme #twd #thewalkingdead #negan fluff #negan x original female character #mollychambler #negan's thirst squad #maggie #michonne #jdm #jeffrey dean morgan #the walking dead #chambler #saviours

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theladylovingcrow · 5 years ago

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New Places, Friendly Faces Part 2 (Sanny)

Author (As known on Various sites): Lady Lover- Rockfic, Luluthechoosingcrow - AO3, theladylovingcrow - Deviantart and Wattpad, @sammy_bluebells - Instagram, @imacrowcawcaw - main Tumblr, @theladylovingcrow - writing/art Tumblr, @insannywestan - Sanny shipping Tumblr

Fandom: Greta Van Fleet

Pairing: Sam Kiszka/Danny Wagner (Sanny), lil bit of Danny/Ronnie but he's quickly swept away with Sam

Length: about 2.7k

Warnings/Tags: Alternate Universe, Diner AU, No band AU, fluff, some angst, awkwardness, first dates, hand holding, flirting, Sanny

Summary: Danny was nervous; he had been building up the courage for weeks to arrange a date, and now.... He wasn't quite sure what to think of the situation he found himself in. The night certainly wasn't going as he had expected it to - and his emotions had never ridden a roller coaster this fast. Hell, the beautiful angel holding his hand wasn't even the one he had arranged to meet 2 hours ago.

Author's Notes: Here's the next part, it picks up right where the last left off! I'm hoping that I can update on a weekly basis - every Monday - but I'm not sure if I'll be able to punch out the next part quick enough, since I'm having a hectic week back home with all of my family. But I'll try!

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"Hey, I've got your pie. Mind if I sit and eat mine with you?"

Danny was startled into full consciousness again by that slightly raspy, warm voice he had been imagining calling his name. He looked up, wide eyed and probably gaping like a love struck fool at the super smart supermodel himself standing over his booth, a plate of pie in each hand.

He must have taken Danny's silence, or maybe the awed stare, as assent, because Sam sat down opposite him and set one of the plates of pie in front of Danny.

He cautiously picked up his fork and speared a bite of pastry, keeping a wary eye on Sam while doing so. Daydreaming about holding someone's hand and actually having them sit - uninvited, he might add - across from you were two very different things. Who knew what Sam was actually like, or what Danny would let slip out of his mouth if he got too comfortable?

Sam was already digging into his slice, gathering up a big forkful of flaky crusts and filling to shove into his mouth. Danny was honestly a little worried: he ate like he hadn't seen food in days, and he kind of looked it, too.

"Mmph, man, Stephen makes the best damn pie I've ever had. Just don't tell my grandma I said that," Sam confided in him with a wink, making Danny turn red. God, when had he *ever* been this flustered around someone? He wasn't making a very good impression sitting there mute and acting stupid, he was sure.

"Uhh, Sam... why did you come sit with me?"

Sam looked up at him, his brow quirked.

"How do you know my name? Are you one of Jake's friends?"

'Shit!'

"No, I heard it earlier from-" he was about to say Beiber, but luckily stopped himself, "From one of your brothers, the one with the straight hair. Which one is Jake?"

"Oh, that's him, and Josh is on his left, talking to Kyle. Micah and Jeremy are the ones having a fight with the butter knives by the way, they're the twins' best friends. Huh, I really thought you knew them, you look like the kind of guy that hangs out with us."

Danny wasn't sure if that was a compliment or not. He figured it would be best to stay silent and let Sam continue talking, lest he embarrass himself somehow.

"What are you- God, I seriously can't get enough of this pie. What are you doing here all by yourself? Trying to get away from your chores or something?" Sam asked, mouth full.

"What? No," Danny said, brow furrowing a bit. He was a good boy, he always did his chores - the least he could do to help his mom out, really.

"Hmm, maybe you're running away? No, I got it! You're actually a health inspector disguised as a regular customer, and you're gonna crack down on the roaches in the kitchen!"

Danny shook his head, reluctantly enjoying the little guessing game Sam had decided to start playing - he wouldn't want the real reason to come out. Or would he? Would that give him a shot with Sam?

'Get real, he's too pretty for you. And he's probably straight, and thinks you're straight, too.'

"Sam! You KNOW there are no roaches here, stop trying to scare away my customers!"

Ronnie came up, smacking him on the back of the head with her hand and smiling at Danny, as if to say 'Don't mind him.'

Danny smiled shyly back at her, commenting on how good the pie was. In truth, he hadn't even taken the single bite he'd put on his fork yet, but it was somehow less awkward to talk to her than to look at Sam.

She said she was glad he was enjoying it and went back to the kitchen to fetch him more coffee. He watched her go, wanting to ask her to stay but knowing that would be incredibly weird; Sam just made him so nervous, he would have felt better with Ronnie's calm demeanor and sweet smile there to help him breath.

"Oh! You're here for Ronnie!" Sam whispered, looking enlightened and possibly a little crestfallen (but Danny was pretty sure that was just wishful thinking).

"No, no, I'm not. She's just nice that's, all. I'm not after her, man," Danny said.

Even though he did find Ronnie very attractive - and he could admit he had a desire to spend more time with her - he wasn't staying solely because of her, and he certainly didn't want Sam to get upset with the thought that Danny was trying to hit it with his sister.

"Dude, it's alright, I'm not gonna kick your ass or anything. Unless you hurt her..." Sam trailed off, looking suddenly so menacing that Danny was actually a bit afraid.

"I- I'm really not."

It looks like Danny's mouth had chosen trying his luck with Sam over Ronnie and, honestly, he wasn't upset by that. Sam was absolutely gorgeous and incredibly interesting: bold, humorous, intelligent, pretty, everything that Danny ever wanted. If only Danny was in his ballpark.

"Oh, c'mon! You're just sitting here by yourself, obviously waiting for someone. And Ronnie's been smiling at you so much, always coming over to your table. Her shift's over in half an hour, where are you taking her?"

'Fuck! He's really not getting it!'

"Ronnie is beautiful, but I'm not here for her. I'm- I *was* on a date, but I'm pretty sure she stood me up, and now I'm only still here because you are."

Danny's face was bright red and probably kind of sweaty, he could tell by his reflection in the spoon on the table. He couldn't bear to look Sam in the face, instead choosing to focus on his slice of pie oozing cinnamon-apple filling onto the plate.

Ronnie came back and filled up his cup, setting down a few more pods of creamer next to it. Maybe she sensed the tension, because she didn't say anything to him, and Danny didn't offer any more than a small smile this time. Now that he had made up his mind about which sibling to go for, he felt a tad awkward around her - but, then again, Sam was making him feel pretty funny, too.

Sam had been silent since his admittance, and it was making Danny nervous as fuck. He opened a creamer and dumped it into his mug, stirring it and taking a testing sip, then finally trying a bite of the pie.

'God, Sam was right - this pie was *good*.'

And fuck, did he not want this to be the last time he could have pie with Sam. As much as the guy was making Danny feel like he was about to give a public speech - and Danny could not stress enough how nervous he was - he was desperate to not let this be the end of their short lived interaction.

'It's been, what? 15 minutes since he came in, 5 since he sat down, and 2 since I started ignoring him - pathetic. If I want any chance at getting a date, this isn't the way to do it.'

Danny had made up his mind: he was going to look up, make it very clear that he meant what he had said, and ask Sam if he was interested in going to a different diner with him, when Sam spoke up.

"I'm sorry that your date stood you up, but I'm glad you're still here. I was honestly gonna leave the guys and go home, but then I saw you in the window and I decided to come in; so, I guess, you could say I'm still here because of you, too."

"I- really?"

'What?!' Danny couldn't keep the grin off of his face. Sam was here for him, because he had seen him in the window, had specifically come in because Danny looked... fuck, what could he have possibly looked other than hopeless and awkward? The grin quickly morphed into a frown.

"I don't need the pity. I appreciate that you're trying to keep me company, but I should probably just go home, I've been here long enough."

Danny got up and started putting his coat on, leaving behind his nearly uneaten pie and cup of Joe. All he knew was that he had to get out of this humiliating situation and never, ever, see this beautiful, amazing asshole ever again.

Sam sighed and caught his arm, wrapping a surprisingly strong hand around Danny's wrist. Danny froze where he was, stopped in his tracks with half a coat on for the second time this night by Sam.

"I don't feel pity for you. I can emphasize with being dumped or stood up-" Danny snorted because, really, who the fuck would pass on a date with Sam? "But I came over here because I thought you looked like an interesting person to talk to and you're honestly super hot."

He had no clue what to say to that so he didn't do anything, just stood there, unmoving, with his limp hand still in Sam's.

Suddenly, Sam breathed out harshly and stood up, too.

"Fuck, I'm sorry if I read this wrong, or gave you the wrong impression, or something. You clearly don't want me hanging onto you. Sorry, I'll go now," he said, hurriedly dropping Danny's wrist and starting to walk away.

"Sam!" Danny called, putting his hand on the boy's shoulder.

Sam stopped but didn't turn. Beyond him, Danny could see that they had drawn the attention of Sam's brothers and friends, all of them turned to look at them having a little fight - and his traitorous brain immediately referred to it as a lover's spat - in the middle of the restaurant.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to get so defensive. I don't mind having you sit with me at all, so, please, come back and sit down with me."

They both slowly sat down again, Danny setting his coat to the side on the booth's leather bench. Sam balled up a napkin and Danny took a bite of pie, neither of them sure of what to say next, it seemed.

Finally, Danny figured he'd better elaborate a bit more. "'M sorry I accused you of pitying me, I just- I just don't know what else you could see other than some nerdy, lonely guy sitting in a booth by himself and watching your sister."

"Hey, I thought you said you weren't going after Ronnie," Sam immediately looked up and smiled at him, making Danny's heart flutter. He shrugged, conveying a non-verbal agreeance and admittance all at once.

"It's alright," Sam told him softly, causing Danny's breath to catch when he saw a slim hand tuck a strand of hair behind Sam's ear - possibly a sign if Sam's own nerves? "I honestly don't know why you've been putting up with me planting myself at your table and talking over you, so it's all good."

Danny wanted to protest, but Sam kept talking (perhaps there was some truth to what he had said). It seemed like, now that he had started, Sam wanted to get out all of whatever he had to say. Danny was perfectly okay with that.

"As I said, I saw you in the window when we were walking up and I just couldn't believe how attractive you were. Like, you're fucking gorgeous, and I just wanted to talk to you so bad and see what you were like. I may have intercepted Ronnie's pie delivery so I could have a reason to come up to you," Sam admitted.

Danny laughed, all of the air rushing out of him in a bout of relieved giggles. He took another bite of pie, making Sam beam back at him, showing he understood Danny's appreciation, of both the gesture and the food.

"Wow, I can't believe *you* find *me* attractive, but I'm not going to debate you on that. And I feel the same, man - like, have you seen yourself? As soon as you walked in, I was just completely in awe of you."

Sam was blushing now, too, and that made Danny's heart thump extra hard, a base drum pounding from his chest. He was grinning at Sam, and Sam was smiling back at him, both of them red and squirming in their seats but refusing to look away.

Danny saw Sam's hand reaching towards his on the table. His heart quickened and he held very still, as if trying not to frighten a scared animal by moving.

Sam's fingers found him, lightly running over the back of his hand and down to his knuckles. Danny let him explore for a time, then turned his hand over to *hold hands with Sam holy shit.*

A loud cheer of hoots and whistles sounded from across the diner. Danny looked up, startled, and Sam turned around in his seat, looking over at his table where all the other boys were apparently celebrating.

The curly haired twin - Josh, he was pretty sure (he hadn't paid overly much attention, focusing instead on Sam) - gave him a big grin and a thumbs up that could have been directed at him or Sam, he wasn't sure. Jake was the one whistling and howling, giving an almost predatory grin at Danny. Their other friends weren't as overt, but they certainly seemed happy that Sam had made up with the random guy in their sister's diner.

It made him a bit uncomfortable, but Danny was glad that Sam's siblings were okay with this - apparently they knew Sam was, in fact, into guys. Danny hoped that his family would be just as receptive, if he got that far with Sam.

'God, I hope I do.'

Sam was looking like he wasn't sure whether he should scold them or go over and high five Jake, but he didn't let go of Danny's hand. Danny found it endearing how happy he was, and how happy they all were, that Sam was over here with him - it made him feel good, like he was actually wanted and desired (in both platonic and romantic ways).

"They kinda convinced me to bring you the pie. Jake's been rooting for me to get a boyfriend for a while now, and he said you're perfect. I think I agree with him."

His blush, if somehow possible, got even darker. Sam was so hot, and such a nice person, it seemed - and he thought Danny was boyfriend material?! Danny's brain was having a riot on every single neurotransmitter simultaneously.

He had no clue how to eloquently respond to that in a way the conveyed his absolute joy, so he just stuck with a simple, "I agree too, I'd love to be your boyfriend."

Sam tightened his grip on Danny's hand, and Danny could feel how clammy his palms were. The knowledge that Sam was just as nervous, attracted, and happy as he was - it was blowing his mind.

Ronnie came over with his bill for the coffee and set it down right next to their linked fingers. She was beaming, looking back and forth between their hands and faces, clearly also in on the plot to get him and Danny together.

'*What the hell*, I don't even know any of these people.'

'Whatever, I don't care. SAM IS HOLDING MY HAND AND HE THINKS I'M HOT!'

"Rons, are you kicking us out?" Sam asked, gasping for dramatic affect, when he saw the bill.

'Shit, he's sassy, too.' Danny wasn't sure how he was going to handle such a personality-strong beauty, but fuck was he going to try.

"No, Sammy, you can take my car tonight and I'll ride home with Jakey and Josh." Ronnie replied, dropping a sey of keys onto the table. "But, if you have sex in there, *I am going to murder you*."

"No worries, I've got some standards. I mean, not that I don't want to or anything, but..." Sam trailed off, looking at Danny. He was going for provocative but it was mostly awkward; Danny bit his lip to stifle his laughter.

"Right... well, I'm officially off duty once I ring you up, so why don't you two get out of here and have some fun."

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@satans-helper

@okietrish

@lazingonsunday

@bigthighsandstupidguys

@karrotkate

@oblvions

@lantern-inthenight

@mountainofthesunn

@ryetheruler

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caffeinatedfantasy · 5 years ago

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The Seal pt 21: Sleepless

{ Chris: [bio] [Prologue] [Story in Tumblr] [ AO3 Link From Beginning ] { pic at the end by @uraminowaltz ! }

It took me a few days to visit Belphegor again. Not knowing whether it had been a dream or not messed with me. I'd busied myself with going through the spellbook, reading things over, and taking care of homework. It was after another dream with him in it that I'd decided I couldn't avoid him. He'd told me, in the dream, to come up. He'd seemed annoyed that I'd avoided him. Which. I couldn't entirely blame him for. Either I'd had a very dirty dream about him [which meant I was avoiding him for something he had no control over, or even knowledge of], OR I had begged him to fuck my face and just didn't remember going back downstairs [which meant I was avoiding him for doing what I'd wanted]. Neither options were fair to him.

I just had to face the fact that I was embarrassed. Of all the demon brothers I had expected to be the first one for me to do something with, he had not even crossed my mind. I'd assumed it would be Asmo, since he was the only one interested, but I'd woken up to both Beel and Mammon's morning wood poking me in the back before and it had made me want to. But even without my "rule", I wasn't going to go after someone who wasn't interested. [The kiss had made me wonder with Mammon, but he'd showed up again after avoiding me for a few days and had acted like nothing was different, so I suppose it had just been a slip and he'd recognized that.]

Climbing the stairs, I frowned when I saw that Belph wasn't at the door. Peeking inside, I could see that he was curled up on his bed. I wasn't sure if this was meant to be punishment or if it was just coincidental. He'd always been awake when I came up before now. Quietly, I sighed, walking up to the door and leaning against it. I wasn't going to wake him, but I'd wait a little bit to see if he woke up. Take advantage of the peace and quiet. I pulled out the journal that I'd gotten from Grisella and opened it, starting to read through it. Might as well. Solomon said he'd help me with it, after all.

It was a few moments before I heard a noise behind me. I didn't turn around, unsure if Belphegor was getting out of bed or just adjusting, focusing on the spell I was reading, when I felt him behind me and stiffened.

"Scared of me now?" He asked, and I jumped a little as his hand snaked out through the bars to touch me.

"No." I muttered. My voice was shaking a little as his fingers grazed my neck.

"Then what?" My cheeks were burning and so was every part of my skin that he touched as he trailed his fingers across my skin. I felt some of his power ease into me. Relaxing me a little. Which. That was a really strange feeling. I shivered. He was waiting for an answer. But to answer him, I needed one too.

"Was it a dream or was it did it actually happen?" Last time he hadn't really answered my question and for a moment I worried he wasn't going to again. But he chuckled, his hand sliding back up to my mouth. He barely had to touch my lips before I parted them and let him slide his fingers into my mouth, his other hand now moving to my neck, using it to hold me there.

"Did I fuck your face through these bars, you mean?" I moaned gently, that certainly gave me an answer. He was mocking me. But Gods, it was hot. I nodded carefully against his grip. He chuckled. "Both."

He let go of me, and I turned to look at him, not entirely understanding what he meant. He had that softly mocking smile on his face as he leaned back and looked at me. He seemed very pleased that I didn't know the answer. "Simply put, you let me into your dream. And I fucked you in there, not right here."

He looked so... Bored talking about it that I almost would've believed he hadn't been affected by it at all. Except for the way his eyes followed my lips so intently. It was like he was trying to act disinterested, keeping his distance from me. Almost as if... He had asked me if I was scared of him just a moment again, hadn't he?

"I stayed away since I wasn't sure..." I admitted, I was adamantly staring at his shaggy hairline instead of his face as I explained, however.. "The, uh, dream and all the lust from it attracted Asmo... Then I spent the weekend trying to figure out what the fuck was going on. Oh! Made a pact with Satan."

Belphegor hummed at that. I couldn't tell if he was pleased or annoyed or just plain bored. I was getting too used to having some idea from the others. The pacts were allowing me to read them easier. But I didn't have a pact with him. So I had no idea beyond what he chose to tell me. And I had to trust that he was being honest. "And he told me, well, confirmed more I suppose, that I'm an empath. And I'm curious how you knew?"

He was leaning back on his hands, watching me. He didn't say anything for a moment. Just watched me. Before he shrugged. I guess deciding it was okay to do so.

"Since we're twins, Beel and I have a low-level empathetic link. It's not the same as empathetic magic, but it sounded familiar when you spoke of sensing their powers on an emotional level. Having you sense and call to Asmo that way was testing whether it was the case." His explanation made sense. And yet it also made it clear that he hadn't needed to go that far to test it. But he had. And-- And I felt his hand brush across my cheek, and I froze, looking up at him. "You blush very easily."

That had almost sounded affectionate. Still the mocking to it he'd had when he'd teased me, but a warmth to it almost. And I almost expected him to want a repeat. But after that point, he didn't mention it, pulling his hand back to his side and yawning. We chatted for a little longer about benign things, whether or not I should try to make a pact with Lucifer [we both doubted it was possible yet], eventually he drifted back to his bed and shooed me away, insisting he was going to go back to sleep. I stayed there for a moment longer, just watching him there, but soon enough did as I'd been asked and headed down the stairs.

I heard Beel in the kitchen and, without giving it much thought, set my things in my room and went to join him. I yawned silently as I walked into the kitchen, covering my mouth as I entered. I was very tired, but sleep had been evading me and I wanted to do something besides lay in bed staring at the ceiling. I heard the slight buzz and heard the munching before I even glanced over at the fridge door, realizing Beel was there, looking through what there was in there. I walked up and peeked into the fridge to see what he hadn't gotten to yet.

"Hey Beel, if you hand me those eggs, I'll make some cupcakes." He must not have heard me before then because he jumped a little bit, glancing down at me, his eyes wide. He'd been mid-way through eating some leftover from earlier, and he abruptly closed his mouth and with a wave of magic, hid his demonic form.

"Sorry." He said. Sounding guilty, and I wasn't quite sure why, but he pulled out the carton of eggs and handed them to me.

"About what?" I said through another yawn and paused, pointing towards the milk as well. He grabbed it and handed it to me while he seemed to consider what to say.

"Didn't hear you come in and I was still in my demon form." I was pulling out flour and sugar from the cupboard and I hummed, carrying a bag of each to the table in the center, frowning at him.

"That's a silly thing to apologize for. It doesn't bother me."

"Lucifer said you'd been feeling uncomfortable--" I froze. Beel sounded so sad. In fact that 'uncomfortable' sounded like he meant scared and-- Oh no. Lucifer had interpreted things way differently than I'd meant them. I'd talked about wanting to feel normal for a bit, and after the last convo I'd had with him about adjusting -- after he'd nearly attacked me -- it made sense that the whole 'demonic' thing was what he had assumed would be the part I was having issues with. "I know that Lucifer, Levi and I had kind of... Gone after you before..."

I stopped sorting through the cabinet and walked over to the table, using a stool to sit up on it so I could be even with him. I grabbed his hand as I did so, holding him in place and tugging him forward. It was funny to me that I'd had a similar conversation with his twin earlier, for slightly different reasons, but I couldn't tell him that. These demons all seemed to expect me to be more scared of them than I was.

"I'm not scared of you guys, you know." I explained, grabbing his other hand and holding him in place. He looked a little confused, so I continued on. "The demon thing is new, sure, maybe a little weird, but whatever. I'm just... Not used to people paying me so much attention? Last time I had someone keeping such a close eye on me it wasn't to keep me safe, so sometimes I just... Kinda get anxious about not being able to just hide for a bit."

I shifted, frowning and trying to figure out how to explain it to him. I hated having to explain any of this. But that was becoming more and more common with them. Experiences were so different that I just didn't know if he'd understand. Not that they explained much to be, but... He just nodded at what I'd said, accepting it. So I sighed, smiling a little, and leaned forward to rest my head on his chest instead. He didn't really hesitate to wrap his arms around me, gently stroking my hair. I was glad he wasn't asking any more questions, though. That really was the nice thing about being around Beel.

And then his stomach growled. Loudly. I couldn't help but laugh, pulling back to smile up at him. "Imma get back to making those cupcakes, okay? What kind sound good to you?"

I shouldn't have been surprised that the answer was some weird demonic flavour. We settled on something a bit more... Human? Since I was still getting used to demonic ingredients [I'd put some in the frosting still, that was easier to fix if it didn't turn out alright]. He went back to the fridge to find something to eat in the meantime. He didn't go back to his demon form, I noticed, but that could have simply been a matter of ease. If I remembered correctly, it took effort for them to go between the two forms.

If he wasn't the Avatar of Gluttony, I would have expected him to be full by the time everything was done with how much he was eating, but he even managed to [mostly] keep his hands to himself as I was getting the cupcakes iced. I'd scolded him that he couldn't eat them until I was done because I wanted to make sure he liked it. [I know he still snuck one pre-icing while I wasn't looking, but he was pretending he hadn't, so I was going to let him think he'd been sneaky.]

I did make him wait a little bit extra because of that, though, setting them all nicely on a plate and making a point to get a picture for Devilgram first. Which Mammon walked into the kitchen while I was trying to get a good angle. I wouldn't have noticed he was even there if it weren't for his hand creeping into my picture to try to grab one

And I say try because Beel immediately picked him up to stop him from taking any of them. I clicked my picture and just laughed, getting a shot of the two of them next. Setting my D.D.D. down, I motioned towards the plate. "Alright Beel, they're all yours."

"All of them?" Beel asked, already drooling and looking way too happy about it.

"H-hey! I should at least get one of Chris's cupcakes!" Mammon protested. But Beel had already started digging in on the plate, not bothering to even bother replying to his brother. And Mammon was pouting about it. I had to hold back my giggle. "F-fine. It's not like I really wanted one anyway."

"Yes you did." He started to protest, to try to argue with me, but I ignored him and grabbed the cupcake I'd left for myself [with just plain vanilla frosting] and slowly started to peel off the wrapper. "And I'll let you have half if you admit it."

He continued to pout as I finished pulling off the paper and took a bit. I made a point to let out a pleased, drawn out "Mmmmm". And Beel was finishing his, so I'd have to start worry about him snatching it from me soon. "Come on Mammon, just say you want some, and I'll let you have it."

That, amusingly, had him blushing, the pink spreading across his face. But I took another slow bite to tease him, this time with 'Yummy' for emphasis. It was getting Beel's attention for sure, as he was now eyeing the cupcake.

"If Mammon doesn't want it, can I have it?" Beel muttered. I could feel that he wasn't really that hungry at the moment, which made me wonder why he'd asked instead of just letting me have all of it. But Mammon's reaction told me what I needed to know. Because the moment Beel asked for it, he stepped forward in between me and Beel, already looking indignant [and I felt a wave of greed from him] and that's when he managed to get the words out.

"Chris. Can I have some of your cupcake?" He said it so quietly, barely able to look at me, that I almost gave it to him right away just from how cute he was being. Except. It also made me want to tease him just a little bit more.

"What's the magic word?" I asked him, grinning and leaning forward into his field of vision a bit. He went a bit redder and stammered, but after a moment, he did manage to get out a very quiet 'please' and I grinned, giving him the rest of the cupcake. [Definitely more than half.] He lit up and devoured it, making sure not to let Beel take it.

Mammon was smiling by the end of it though. His big goofy smile he'd get when he was really happy. And it was contagious. Between the two of them, and how much they'd both enjoyed the cupcakes, my cheeks were hurting. I stifled a yawn as I reached towards Mammon and swiped some of the icing off of his cheek, sticking my thumb in my mouth and giving him a wink. I didn't acknowledge his blush though, instead choosing to walk past him and head back to my room, wishing the two of them good night with a small wave.

#the seal obey me fic #obey me #obey me mammon #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me fic #obey me mc #obey me mc chris

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calucadu · 6 years ago

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A yordle adventure - Chapter 1

A yordle adventure, a League of Legends Fanfic. Chapter 1.

Hey! It’s @rosegoldmagnum’s birthday today!! So I decided to upload the first chapter of this story that's been lying around my computer unfinished for a while now and dedicate it to her since she liked it! Not only is her art really good, she's also an amazing person ❤ So go wish her a happy birthday and follow her on tumblr and twitter! Happy birthday hun! I hope you like my little gift to you :)

Summary: Rumble, Tristana, Teemo, Heimerdinger, Lulu and Veigar go on the adventure of their lifetimes!

Characters: Rumble, Ziggs, Tristana, Teemo, Heimerdinger, Lulu, Veigar

Rating: Teen and up

Next chapter (coming eventually)

Read on AO3

Or read below the cut

I pulled my gloves off with my teeth and got up to look around me.

“It’s perfect. No mechanical failures. Fuel tank’s full, everything’s ready. We can leave.”

The other yordles started cheering in excitement and mounted the ship as quickly as they could. I watched them as I grabbed my tool box from the floor and followed them into what would be my home for the next few months.

I sighed as I watched them place their last remaining things in their rooms before I went to mine. Everything was untouched. The bed was made, the white linen nearly too bright in comparison with the rest of the room. The clothing I had chosen had been already put in the wardrobe and my gadgets and personal stuff had been placed around the room, maybe to make me feel more at ease, more at home.

I sat down and put my head in my hands. We’d leave soon and I didn’t know how that made me feel. I laid down on the bed and looked at the ceiling. The alarm stood there, staring right back at me. During my training, I’d had to live with that infernal thing waking me up at random hours in the middle of the night, to prepare me in case there was an emergency on board the ship.

That’s the reason why I was the only one sleeping alone. No bunkbed. No roommate. All alone. Just as it has always been, I thought, taking a long breath and finally getting up, as I heard footsteps approaching.

“Hey, Rumble. You all set?” Tristana asked, poking her head around the door.

“Yeah, you?”

“Everyone’s ready. It’s time to say our goodbyes and then take off. You wouldn’t wanna miss me pilot this baby, huh?” She opened the door for me and started walking in front. I’m positive I saw her wiggle her hips as she did, which made me frown.

I’d stopped having feelings for Tristana.

I don’t want this sounding weird, but it’s probably the best thing that’s happened to me since joining the League. No love, no regret, no jealousy, no sleepless nights thinking about her, no pathetic, stupid feelings.

She knew it, as well, which was just as good. It meant occasional teasing, but at least we were back to being friends.

I nearly ran after her, noticing I was the last one to get off the ship. Some of the League champions were there to send us off. I spotted Ziggs, who quickly came up to hug me tightly.

“Oh, Rumble, man, I’m gonna miss ya, buddy!” He grunted, squeezing me a little too much for a little too long.

I wheezed and he realised I needed to breathe.

“Oh, yeah, heh, heh, sorry.” He let me go and I smiled at him, air finally in my lungs again.

“Imma miss you too, bud.”

“But you’ll have a blast!” He screamed, not controlling the tone of his voice due to his excitement. He started laughing nervously after that but was quickly pulled into a hug by Tristana.

“Ziggs! See ya soon, you rascal!”

“See you too, Trist! You’re going to make a fine captain, and an even better pilot!” My best friend then saw my face. “Oh, and make sure Heimy is extra nauseous, please! Just for our enjoyment.”

“You won’t even be there, silly! Anyway, I’m going to say my goodbyes to the rest of the champs, have fun Ziggs and good luck with the matches!”

“You too, Tristana! Have a safe journey!”

They hugged one last time as I watched and then his gaze finally returned to me.

“I really hope you were on this trip with me.” I muttered, trying to make my voice not sound too sad.

“Yeah, I know. They probably thought I was too dangerous or something.”

“Ziggs, you’re a fire hazard.”

“No, I’m the bomb!”

“Which is equally scary.”

The two of us laughed, sharing what would be our last moments together in months. Slowly the laughter died down and I looked at my paws, embarrassed.

“I’m going to be stuck alone with Darty and Afro-for-Brains without you, Ziggs.”

“And I’m going to be stuck alone with Jinx the maniac without you, buddy. But you’ll be having tons of fun on that ship, just you wait! You might score…” He winked at me and I rolled my eyes.

“I told you I don’t li-!”

He cut me off. “Yeah, yeah, you don’t like her anymore. There’s another chick on board, dude. And you never know. Months stuck together, anything can happen!” He nudged me slightly and shot me a full toothed grin at me.

“Ziggs!” I grunted, narrowing my eyes.

“I was just joking Rumble! Anyway, you try to have fun, okay?”

“Okay.” I said, smiling at him. He’d actually made me feel better without knowing it. “Hey Ziggs, can I ask a favour?”

“You want me to take care of Tristy for you, right?”

“Right. You don’t mind?”

“Nope. I’ll just check on her from time to time. Make sure she’s got enough oil and she’s running about in her wheel.”

“Ziiiiiiggs!” I whined, but laughed with him, rubbing my knuckles against his head tenderly.

An alarm went off, similar to the one that woke me up every day and my ears twitched.

“Alright crew! Everyone on the ship now!” Tristana yelled and I pulled Ziggs into our last hug.

We said goodbye and I smiled at him. He grinned back, waving energetically.

“If I don’t come back, burn all my stuff!” I yelled to him as I entered the ship and my view of him was blocked by Lulu, who prevented me from being able to have a look at his face after my comment.

“Crew check!” Tristana smiled as we formed a line in front of her. She walked, naming our ranks and nodding at us. “Scout. Head Scientist. On board Mechanic. Healer. Ahm.” She stopped at Veigar. “Guest?”

“You FOOL!” He screamed back, his yellow eyes more menacing than before, shinning brighter somehow. “How DARE you insult me?”

“But Vei-Vei! She didn’t insult you!” Lulu started waving her hands in front of the other yordle, as if trying to protect the captain from the rage of the one with the hat.

“Do NOT call me Vei-Vei!” He screeched and they both run away, the female yordle following him as he entered his room.

Maybe I should go back a few months, when the project was first thought of. Teemo had been on one of his missions when he’d found a map with directions to a land where only small creatures could go to. For some reason, the League Tribunal were all over it and decided they could make millions with this opportunity. So, they assigned me, Rumble, to be the Head Mechanic, gave me ten yordles to work with me and we started building this ship. And I mean, as big as this project was to my career, it was no Tristy. And there’s nothing in this world like my mech. Tristy will always be my baby, even after she got destroyed and I had to make Tristy 2.0, who will always be my baby as well.

Anyway, I set to work, and you know what, with nearly limitless funds you can make a decent ship. It pained me to admit there was a huge difference between my scrapyard mech and the biggest thing I’ve ever seen yordles build. And you know the best bit? It was all me! The blueprints? Mine. The ideas for the material? Also mine. I knew all her secrets, her little weaknesses (yeah, she had some) and the little touches I’d made for her, like the weapons I had added to her kit.

Yeah, she was a Rumble design alright.

But, I was also assigned to be the on board mechanic. Just in case something went wrong. Which, you know, was good. I’d have something else to do and I would be doing what I like best. But, on the other hand, it meant dealing with Teemo and Heimerdinger all day long, for who knows how long, as they’d been assigned Chief Scouter and Head Scientist respectively. I still huff at the decision. On a side – but good – note I’d been assigned Scientist as well, so my decisions were also relevant, so it wasn’t all bad.

But, for some strange reason, one day, we were told Veigar would be on the mission too. I had to plan an extra space for Heimerdinger, as the other members in the ship weren’t comfortable with the Tiny Master of Evil being unsupervised and Teemo was made his bunkbed roommate. Ironic, huh?

Lulu was also there mostly for him, just in case. But the League Tribunal had really insisted on having him on the expedition. They told us in secret that he was a valuable asset if something were to happen and that he’d been in the League for years and nothing had happened. But some of us still weren’t convinced, and for once, I agreed with Teemo: something was going on.

So, Lulu and Tristana shared a room, Teemo and Veigar another, Heirmendinger had to sleep in a bed I��d added to his on-board lab and I had my own quarters to myself.

“I mean, he is kinda like a guest” Whispered Teemo, smiling faintly at Tristana. “Don’t worry about it Trist, he’ll get over it.”

The Gunner grinned back at him and hurried to the control panel.

“Alright everyone! Hold on tight!” She sat down and put her seatbelt on. She started flicking switches on and then hit the clutch and accelerator. The noise of the engine purred, making the hair on the back of my head stand up. “We’re gonna LIFT OFF!”

She was a bit unstable as we took off, but soon enough she was soaring high in the sky, making me extremely proud of my ship. I smiled for a good ten minutes while the other yordles were still getting used to it.

Finally, Tristana was able to switch the autopilot on and she hopped out of her seat, a broad smile on her lips as she addressed me.

“Rumble, this baby’s incredible!” Her hand rested on my shoulder and our gaze met. I felt all warm and fuzzy for a few seconds before she removed her paw and looked at the rest of the crew, well, the ones that were still at the cockpit. I couldn’t help but smirk at the fact that Heirmendinger had waddled off, possibly to be sick.

All the yordles were summoned and the Captain started talking.

“Anyway, we’ve been over this a thousand times before we left, but let’s go over the rules once more.” Tristana said, eyeing each of us. I noticed she avoided looking at Veigar.

“Whose turn is it to cook first?”

“Oh, mine! Mine!” Lulu giggled, raising her hand in the air. “I’m going to make purple lasagne!”

I stared at her in disgust as she laughed and clapped enthusiastically.

“We might change the cooking turns…” I heard Tristana mutter, looking down at her papers.

“And then it’s my turn to wash up.” Teemo piped in.

“I cook dinner tonight.” I cracked the joints of my paws as I said it and Heimendinger looked at me in disgust.

“I wash up.” The Scientist spoke, his eyes still on me. We shared a gaze of mutual hatred for half a second, before he turned to look at the Captain.

“Good. Nice to hear you all know your chores. I will be hanging the ‘Chore Chart’ in the cockpit for the next few weeks. Are we clear?” She asked.

We all muttered in agreement and we proceeded to the next order of the day. The morning went on like this for quite some time, before Lulu had to leave to make lunch.

“Pix is helping!” She yelled as she left the table.

Veigar groaned, his heavy gauntlet hitting his face. He made a weird snort-like sound as we all looked at him.

“Is this really necessary?” He screeched.

“Yeah.” Tristana answered. Her voice had lowered significantly, as if she was trying to sound menacing or authoritarian. “We need to have rules in order to live properly. I know there’s some rivalry on this ship, and the fact that we’re all League champions doesn’t help. But if you don’t want to be abandoned in the middle of nowhere, I suggest you follow them all.”

The Tiny Master of Evil sighed, his gauntlets moving to support his head as he placed it on them.

“Fine. I’ll do the awful chores. But don’t expect me to be nice. Or to get along.”

“Do your fucking best, Veigar. I don’t want anyone upset because of you. We are going to have to live along and you are not going to ruin it for anyone. You do, and you miss out on the great adventure.”

His eyes sparkled slightly as she said those last words and he decided he wasn’t going to provide a snarky remark.

Lunch was purple lasagne. I was hoping it had been a joke, but Lulu placed my plate in front of me, a giant smile on her face. I prodded at it with my fork, noticing no one else – besides the cook – had dared touch their food. The female yordle was currently enjoying her meal, squealing happily with each mouthful and encouraging us to eat.

“Are we going to die?” I asked, lifting the purple mix so I could eye it better.

“Enough. It can’t possibly be that bad.” Veigar said, finally gathering enough courage to eat a small mouthful of the dish Lulu had prepared. We all watched in disbelief as he munched it unenthusiastically until he swallowed.

“Yeah, I don’t think this’ll kill us.” He muttered. “It’s actually decent.”

“Of course it is, Veigy!” Lulu screamed in delight as she watched the rest of us deciding to finally eat her meal. “It’s just normal lasagne that Pix made look purple.”

“You could’ve said that earlier…” Tristana murmured, stuffing a mouthful of the dish into her maw.

“DON’T CALL ME VEIGY EITHER!” The Tiny Master said, slamming his gauntlets on the table.

“Oh, Vei-Vei! I’m so happy you were the first one to try it! It means you actually do trust me!” Lulu squealed and everyone suddenly stopped eating, noticing that what she had said was surprisingly true.

“Shut up.” Veigar muttered, prodding the lasagne lazily.

We were all uncomfortably silent the rest of the meal, as no one wanted to pipe in or question what was going on between those two.

Lulu finished her meal first but waited until Veigar did too. She followed him when he left the table, much to his unhappiness.

“Leave me alone! Stop following me!”

“But it’s fun to be with Veigar!” She screamed, trying to get him to hold her hand.

“NO IT ISN’T! Go away or I’ll cast a spell on you!”

“Oh! What kind of spell? Can I help?”

The last thing we heard were a whole lot of swearing words followed by a long sigh.

“So, what’s the deal between those two?” Tristana asked, looking at me with that twisted smile that meant mischief. I couldn’t help myself and grinned back.

“Something is definitely up.” I answered, drumming my fingers against the table.

“I just don’t get why she likes him.” Groaned Teemo, his face scrunched up in disgust.

“You actually think she likes that… pathetic excuse of a yordle?” Asked Heimerdinger. He looked amused, as if he could actually express emotions.

“Oh, yeah, Lulu likes likes him.” I said, my voice a low purr. “If you know what I mean.”

“Because Rumble knows what females like.” Tristana remarked, a sly smirk spreading on her face as she looked at me, an eyebrow raised. So, we were going to play this game, huh.

“Oh, she doesn’t like Veigar? I bet she wants to kiss him, to say the least. Or maybe they have already!” I grinned back, making it look like Trist’s first comment hadn’t got to me.

“I think she likes him.” Teemo weighed in. “Like like.”

“Why does Veigar put up with that halfwit?” Heimerdinger muttered, sounding as if he was mostly speaking to himself.

“Maybe he likes her back!” Tristana said.

“Because now you know what males like.” I smirked at her and she stuck her tongue out at me.

“I don’t think Veigar’s capable of liking anyone.” Teemo answered. “Or anything, for that matter.”

“I don’t think he likes her back.” Heimerdinger commented.

“I personally think he just enjoys the attention.” I yawned and got up. “Hey, Trist, I almost forgot, I wanna show you something.”

“Ahm, what is it?”

“Come with me to the cockpit.”

She nodded and followed me. Once there I marvelled slightly at my lovely design. She looked at me, her head tilted to one side.

“I gave this baby voice recognition!” I finally said and her eyebrows lifted in amazement.

“Oh, cool!” She giggled. “Hello ship? This is Tristana speaking.”

“You’ve got to push this red button here and then say your name. But wait!” I had to hold her hand back, she was so eager to press it. “Let me tell you the functions it has first.”

I spent about three minutes showing her how to use it and when she finally could she was incredibly keen to try it. She sat down on her seat, held the controls with one hand and pressed the button with a finger of the other.

“Tristana!” She nearly screamed in excitement.

“Hello Tristana.” The female voice responded, sending a chill down my spine.

“Give me manual control, please”

“Granted.” The voice answered and the ship slowed considerably, before Trist got it going again.

“So coooool!” She cheered, manoeuvring the ship left and right, throwing me off balance slightly. “Tell me the temperature of the ship.”

I decided to let her play with her new found toy, so I left for my room.

So far, it hadn’t been a bad first day. But there was still time for it to all go really, really badly.

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pikapeppa · 6 years ago

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Fenris/f!Hawke modern AU: Tequila

Chapter 5 of Damned Spot is up on AO3! It ends on a bit of a cliffhanger BUT THE NEXT CHAPTER WILL BE UP EITHER TONIGHT OR TOMORROW, I PROMISE. Posting this one tonight for @dadrunkwriting Friday!

In which Fenris and Rynne flail around like awkward idiots in the wake of the previous night’s party. Tiiiiiiny hint of smut. Previous chapters can be read here: [1] [2] [3] [4]

And beautiful art of this fic can be seen on the Tumblr of my partner in life and crime, the ever-talented @schoute.

***********************

2:21pm - you had fun last night. admit it!

Rynne’s phone made a little swish sound as it whisked her message away to Fenris. She grinned to herself as she pulled her sunglasses from her forehead down to her nose, then stepped out into the brilliant afternoon sunshine.

She was still on a high from how great the party was. After the intensity of the conversation on the balcony, Fenris had spent the rest of the night by her side. They’d both continued drinking, and he’d started loosening up, and Rynne lost her breath every damned time he laughed. He talked more than she’d expected, firmly sharing his opinions in the ebb and flow of conversations as they moved among the various groups of people in the house, and he was just…

He was so fucking smart. And articulate. And surprisingly opinionated. Rynne hadn’t expected that either, given how infrequently he participated in chit-chat at the Hanged Man. But now that she’d seen him talking more freely, it was more obvious than ever that his customary reserved silence masked an unceasing river of thought rather than a lack of anything important to say.

His opinions didn’t always match with hers. In addition to the lyrium issue, Fenris favoured the death penalty and really seemed to hate big corporations like Amazon. Rynne, on the other hand, supported rehab for convicted criminals and didn’t particularly care where her stuff came from as long as it was cheap. She and Fenris butted heads a few times, and the conversation became rather heated on more than one occasion - too heated for Isabela, who complained that this was a party and not a courthouse - but somehow, Rynne always managed to diffuse the tension and make him smile.

And as soon as Fenris smiled, every hint of cogent thought fled her foolish brain.

He’d followed her from the couch to the kitchen to the games room, scoffing at her jokes and returning her teasing with rapid-fire retorts that made her laugh so hard her stomach hurt. He’d point-blank refused to dance with her, but it hadn’t stopped her from dancing up on him like the shameless tart that she was. At one point, while she was twisting in front of him like a snake, he put his hand on her waist.

Fenris had touched her. Touched her of his own free will, twice in a single night. He’d shaken his head and smirked at her as his elegant, tattooed fingers squeezed her waist, and…

Maker’s balls, Rynne really wanted to fuck him.

But it was so much more than that. Usually Rynne was happy to hop into bed with whoever caught her interest, and if the fling became more than physical, that was a happy plus. But with Fenris… She got the sense that that wouldn’t work for him, and that she’d have to wait for him to come around to the idea of sleeping with her.

Rynne didn’t care. She was more than happy to wait. She would wait for him for months if she had to, because she could happily admit the truth: in the space of less than two months, she’d become more attached to Fenris than to any other romantic partner she’d ever had.

Fenris knew her worst secret, the one she’d been forced to hold most closely to her chest, and he didn’t think she was a horrible person for what she’d done. He’d given her a few secrets of his own, and she knew that was no small thing for him. Somehow, for some reason, Rynne trusted him at a visceral, instinctual level, just as much as she trusted Piper and Cullen. And in the most uninhibited depths of her heart, she knew that she would wait for him for as long as it took.

But hopefully it wouldn’t take too long.

She cheerfully hummed along to her tropical house playlist as she made her way to Athenril’s coffee shop in Lowtown. She was so busy rehashing the happy events of the previous night that she was halfway to Lowtown before she realized that Fenris hadn’t texted her back.

She pulled out her phone and swiped through to her messages.

2:33pm - fine, play coy, i dont mind ;) 2:33pm - seriously though i’m really glad you came

She popped her phone back in her pocket, but to her happy surprise, it dinged less than a minute later.

2:34pm - Thank you for having me.

I haven’t had you yet, she thought cheekily. But she would keep that thought to herself. For now, at least.

2:34pm - anytime ^^ 2:34pm - are you super hungover? did i wake you up? lol

2:34pm - No. I’ve been up for hours. Some of us don’t have the luxury of blackout curtains in every bedroom window.

Aw. So snarky, she thought fondly. She could imagine the crease of his eyebrows and the smirk on his lips as he texted her. The image fostered a warm feeling in her belly, and she grinned to herself as she stepped into the road.

“Hawke! Be careful!” A strong female hand grabbed her elbow and pulled her back, and Rynne squealed in alarm as a taxi screeched around the corner in the spot where she’d just been standing.

“Fuck!” Rynne gasped. She pulled out one earphone and stared up at Aveline, who was scowling at her with a look that she usually reserved for shoplifting teenagers. “Av! My hero! Kirkwall’s finest at her very best! How are you?”

“I’m fine. But you need to pay attention to your surroundings,” Aveline scolded. “Turn your music down. You would have heard that cab coming if your music was quieter.”

Rynne tilted her head playfully. “Sorry, I couldn’t hear you over my music. What was that you said?”

Aveline pursed her lips. “Very funny.” She waved a hand for Rynne to cross the street, and they made their way in the direction of Lowtown together.

“Seriously though, how are you?” Rynne asked. “How’s Donnic?”

Aveline’s expression softened at the mention of her husband. “He’s well, thank you. Enjoying paternity leave.” She smiled slightly, and Rynne grinned at the pinkness of the police captain’s cheeks.

“And how’s Carver doing?” Rynne asked. “I hope he listens to you more than he ever listened to me. It would be embarrassing for a police officer to get another ticket for parking in a no-parking zone.”

“He’s doing very well,” Aveline replied. Her tone held a hint of censure. “He’s a hard worker, you know. A good addition to the precinct. And yes, he listens well, so no complaints there.” Aveline shot her a sideways look. “It’s been a while since you’ve seen each other, hasn’t it?”

Rynne shrugged casually. “Yep.” It had been about six months, in fact. But it was better this way. It wasn’t like Carver wanted to see her, anyway.

She changed the subject. “What are you doing out in these parts, anyway?” she asked. “I thought you were more of a desk jockey these days. Are half of the precinct on vacation or something?”

Aveline pursed her lips again. “A good captain keeps her eyes and ears on the street whenever she has a chance,” she announced. She gave Hawke a knowing look. “You should be grateful that I’m out and about. You’d be roadkill otherwise.”

“That I would,” Rynne chuckled, and she slipped her hand through the crook of Aveline’s arm. “Care to escort me the rest of the way to Athenril’s, just in case I decide to wander into traffic again?”

Aveline smiled. “I’m afraid not. I’ll be leaving you here, actually. I’m off to the docks.” She patted Rynne’s hand, then pulled away. “Be careful,” she warned. “Volume down!”

“Yeah, all right!” Rynne waved and popped her earphones back in at full volume, then pulled her phone out again.

No further texts from Fenris. The ball was still in her court.

2:40pm - hey, those blackout curtains are necessary ok 2:40pm - you don’t know this, but im actually a vampire 2:41pm - i spontaneously combust in direct sunlight 2:41pm - none of that sparkly diamond skin twilight bullshit. i’m the real deal

She held her phone loosely in her hand as she strolled along. When he didn’t reply a few minutes later, she lifted her phone and tapped out another message.

2:44pm - what are you up to today? wanna hang out later?

She sent the message before she could stop to think twice. Maybe she was being overeager, but she’d really enjoyed spending time with him last night. They were both off work until Tuesday, and if she had to wait that long to see him again, she would drive Piper up the wall with her gushing.

By the time she reached Athenril’s coffee shop, he still hadn’t replied. But as luck would have it, he didn’t need to. As Rynne stepped into the cafe, she instantly spotted a familiar black-clad and hooded figure standing at the counter with his hands shoved into his pockets.

She grinned, then sashayed over to him and leaned against the counter. “Excuse me, sir. Are you a janitor? Because you’ve swept me off my feet.”

Fenris recoiled at her abrupt appearance, then his eyebrows rose as he recognized her. “Hawke! What are you doing here?”

“Inspecting the goods, of course,” she said. She bit her lip and gave him a coy smile.

To her slight disappointment, he didn’t smirk in return. Instead, he ran a hand over his hood and dropped his gaze.

Rynne straightened up. “I’m picking up an order,” she explained. “It’s our usual after-party thing. Unfortunately, I drew the short straw for pick-up today.” She stood on her tiptoes and waved at Emile, who held up two fingers to her.

She nodded, then turned back to Fenris. “Did you get my text?” she asked brightly.

“I did,” he confirmed. And he said nothing more.

Rynne frowned slightly. He wasn’t looking her in the eye. Maybe he was just really focused on getting his coffee, but she was getting a distinctly weird vibe from him.

Well, he’d been weird when she first him, and that hadn’t thrown her off. “So. What are you up to today?” she said. “Want to come over and hang out with us?”

“I’m sorry, I can’t,” he said. “I’ve… I have errands to look after.” He nodded at the barista as she handed him his coffee, then turned away from the counter and from Rynne.

Her stomach started writhing. What was wrong with him? Had she done something wrong? She could hear Isabela’s voice in her mind telling her to brush him off and let it go, but Rynne’s shameless, prideless tongue wouldn’t stop wagging.

She followed him as he moved toward the door. “Do you want to go for dinner with me?” she blurted. “There’s an Antivan tapas place that just opened in Hightown. I haven’t been there yet, but Varric said the fish tacos are to die for.”

“No,” Fenris said bluntly. “I mean - no, thank you. I will see you on Tuesday.” He finally looked her in the eye - the briefest, most neutral look - then pushed open the door to the coffee shop and left.

Rynne stood dumbly near the door as she watched him leave. Then she slowly made her way back to the counter.

“Hé, Hawke!” Emile glided over and handed her a tray of drinks and a paper bag as he reeled off their regular order. “One Nevarran spiced chai, one espresso, one black drip coffee and one Arlathan apple spice, and one mixed box of Orlesian petit-fours… hey, are you okay?”

She hauled her face into a smile. “Yeah,” she lied. “I just remembered I haven’t done my taxes yet.”

Emile’s face fell. “Ah merde, I haven’t either! My father will have a fit…” He pulled his phone from his pocket and began madly tapping at the screen.

Hawke grimaced guiltily and backed away from the counter. “Er, sorry! I’ll, uh, see you later.” She hurried away from the counter and left the cafe, but as soon as she was on the street again, she let her smile fall away.

Her chest felt heavy, like someone had dropped a pile of rocks into her rib cage. Why was Fenris being so cold? Maybe she’d said something stupid last night that she didn’t remember. She had been pretty drunk by the end of the night. Maybe they’d argued about something

Or maybe she was just a deluded idiot, and he wasn’t actually interested in her at all.

She pulled her sunglasses down to hide her burning eyes. It doesn’t matter. He’s just a boy, she told herself. A handsome, intelligent boy with hidden depths, but still just a boy. As Isabela would say, boys come and go - literally and metaphorically - and they were imminently replaceable.

Maybe if she kept telling this to herself, the stupid childish pain in her chest would go away.

Maybe if she kept telling this to herself, she would start to believe it.

********************

Hawke slid Fenris’s water with lime across the bar. “Hey,” she said.

He nodded. “Hawke,” he greeted, but she’d already glided away to the other side of the bar.

Fenris watched her wistfully for a moment, then lifted his water and turned around on his stool to face the rest of the pub. The Hanged Man was relatively quiet, as was usual for a Tuesday; they didn’t do karaoke on Tuesdays, so the customary mix of 80s new wave and 90s grunge was pumping through the speakers and carrying the conversational susurrus of the laid-back post-work crowd.

Fenris sighed quietly. He slid his hand into his pocket and idly toyed with his phone. This was the first contact he’d had with Hawke since he’d run into her at Athenril’s cafe on Sunday. She hadn’t sent him a single text since then.

She’d only started texting him regularly about a week ago, but it was odd how quickly he’d become accustomed to the presence of her sunny swearing and ridiculous typos on his phone. Since the run-in on Sunday, she’d gone completely radio silent. It was…

Necessary, he told himself. It was necessary. She was getting too close, and Fenris couldn’t let that happen. The closer she got, the more dangerous it was for them both.

He’d been a fool at the party on Saturday. On the balcony during that moment of weakness, he’d told her Danarius’s name, and it was a foolish fucking mistake. Knowing even that much information was a risk to them both. What if she tried to Google Danarius, and someone was spying on her search histories and tracked her down to get information about Fenris’s whereabouts? Fenris used a VPN for all his online browsing, but Rynne didn’t seem the type to care about that kind of thing. Fenris wasn’t ready for Danarius and his men to come after him. He needed more time.

If Hawke learned anything more about Fenris, it could compromise his goals. His revenge would be at stake. Worse yet, Hawke herself would be in danger, and Fenris’s blood ran cold at the thought of any harm coming to her.

He briefly turned back to the bar and lifted his water. As he sipped from his glass, he glanced at Hawke again; she was leaning her elbows on the bar and giggling with a pair of businessmen.

“Puppy eyes.”

He turned and met Piper’s shrewd amber gaze. “What was that?”

“Puppy eyes,” she repeated. “That’s what Merrill would call your face right now.” Her eyebrows were lifted and her lips were pursed; her expression was the definition of unimpressed.

Fenris frowned and turned away. “There are no puppy eyes.”

Piper snorted. She leaned over the bar and stared at the side of his face. “This would be cute if we were all sixteen. News flash: we’re not. We’re all fucking adults.”

Fenris refused to look at her. He restlessly ran his thumb across his phone. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Yes you do,” Piper retorted. For a long moment, she stared fixedly at him as though he was a bizarre piece of art, then straightened up and wafted away.

Fenris scowled at her slender back, then replaced his glass of water on the bar and went to sit by the door of the Hanged Man. Only one bouncer was needed on Tuesdays to monitor the inside the pub, but Fenris couldn’t help but wish he could sit outside today.

An agonizing few hours later, after the waitstaff had cleaned up and gone home, Fenris made his way to the bar while Piper and Hawke were starting to lay out the cash. But before he could say goodnight, Piper raised her eyebrows at him.

“I have to leave early,” she said.

Hawke’s head whipped up at her words. “What? Since when?”

“Since two hours ago,” Piper said pertly. “Cullen got off work early tonight, so guess who else will be getting off early?” She waggled her eyebrows suggestively.

Hawke groaned and rolled her eyes. “Wow. That was a stretch, even for you.”

Piper snickered and bumped Hawke’s hip. “It was clever and you know it.” She smiled as Hawke chuckled, then turned back to Fenris. “Can you help Hawke to count the cash?”

Fenris tensed, and Hawke’s grin immediately slid away. “What? No! I can do it on my own-”

Piper flapped her hands. “No, Fenris can help.” She looked at him. “I asked Varric already, he’s paying you for an extra hour. That works out for everyone, right?” Piper’s tone was light and friendly, but her eyes were like daggers on his face.

He clenched his jaw and gave her a hard stare, but her strong chin was belligerently lifted, and… well, the whole point of being here was the money. If he was being paid for an extra hour…

He turned his gaze to Hawke. “I’ll help. Tell me what to do, and it is done.”

Hawke stared at him for a second, then smiled tightly and shoved a pile of twenties toward him. “Fine. I hope you can do math.”

He frowned slightly. “Of course I can.” He sat on a bar stool across from her and lifted the pile of bills.

“Good,” Hawke said. “Because I can’t. Pipes is the brains of this operation.”

Piper laughed. “Nice try, bitch. You’re brilliant too.” She checked her phone, then hitched her purse onto her shoulder and waved at them. “Cullen’s just outside. Have a good night!”

“Bye. I hate you,” Hawke called to her departing back.

“Love you too!” Piper chirped, and then she was gone, leaving Fenris and Hawke alone.

Hawke stared blankly at him for a second, then shot him an alarmingly bright smile. “Who wants a drink?” She turned away and grabbed a lower-shelf bottle of tequila, then pulled out two shot glasses.

“Oh. Er - perhaps just one-” Fenris said dumbly, but Hawke was already pouring him a shot.

The pushed the tiny glass of tequila across the bar to him, then poured one for herself and immediately drank it. “Want a piece of peach with that?” she asked. “Piper calls it Fen’harel’s Fuzzy Cock. Well, she does when we add some lime juice to it. Three ingredients makes it a cocktail.” She winked at him as she poured herself a second shot.

“No,” Fenris said. “No peach is necessary.” He downed the shot and winced at the harsh burn of cheap liquor, then began counting the stack of twenties.

Hawke chattered the entire time they were counting the cash. Fenris listened as she complained about her favourite food stand in Lowtown closing last week and an outlandish anime she’d just finished watching and how she was planning a trip to Rivain in a couple of months. He watched with no small amount of wonder as she managed to swiftly count the cash and write the amounts on a spreadsheet while simultaneously talking and pouring them shot after shot of tequila.

By the time the task was almost done, Fenris was feeling a little hazy from the drinks, and he wasn’t sure how helpful he had ultimately been. “You may want to check this,” he confessed as he pushed a pile of dimes toward her. “I counted twenty-three, but I… I may have miscounted.”

She grinned at him. Her coppery eyes were brilliant from the booze. “Some helper you are,” she teased. She quickly counted the coins again, her face briefly furrowing into a frown as she counted them, then gave him a satisfied smile. “You’re good,” she said, and she wrote the amount on her spreadsheet, then began to tally it all up with a calculator.

Fenris watched her as she worked. She hummed to herself as she tapped in the numbers, some song that was vaguely familiar to him from earlier that night. Her face was peaceful and her tiny smile was sweet, and…

Venhedis, he wished his life really were this simple. If only he really was just a man working at a pub with a beautiful woman who hummed happy songs while she counted the cash. But this kind of simplicity, of uncomplicated peace and quiet… This was as foreign to Fenris as his native language was to her, and there was no point pining for something so bright when all his future held was blood.

She looked up from her spreadsheet and tapped at the computer over the till, then punched her fist in the air. “Yesss. Counted the cash while drunk. Pipes and Varric will be so proud! Or horrified. I can’t decide.” She grinned at him, but her smile froze when she met his eyes.

He stared at her, unable to breathe and unable to look away from her stricken expression. Then she dropped her eyes and began replacing the cash into the drawer. “Fenris, can you put the bigger bills into that envelope, we’ll lock it up separately in the safe-”

He reached out and took her hand. “Hawke,” he blurted, “I… I am sorry.”

Her hands went still, and her eyes darted back to his face. “Sorry for what?” she said faintly.

He hesitated as he realized that he wasn’t entirely sure what to apologize for. He hadn’t forced Hawke to talk to him, after all. She’d flirted with him and garnered his unwavering attention without any particular encouragement from him. He hadn’t asked her to be his friend. He hadn’t asked her to become the first person he’d trusted in a very long time. If he was sorry for anything, it was that he’d indulged her incessant attempts at conversation and gotten them both into this uncomfortable position in the first place.

But he couldn’t tell her that, not without explaining why they couldn’t be… whatever she clearly wanted this to be. Finally he settled on a cheap diversion. “You’re a beautiful woman. Is there no one else who has your attention?”

Her eyebrows leapt high on her forehead, and she smiled. “I’m sorry, I didn’t quite catch that first part.”

He gave her a chiding look. “I’m a Tevinter gangster with years’ worth of blood on my hands,” he said bluntly. “None of those things bother you?”

She turned her hand in his grip and squeezed his fingers. “You’re not a gangster anymore,” she said.

A wriggle of guilt burrowed into Fenris’s belly, but Hawke wasn’t finished. “Besides, if I was interested in anyone else, I’d be with them. I’m only interested in you.”

He stared at her with growing puzzlement. “Why?” he said hoarsely. Now that he thought about it, he genuinely wasn’t sure why she was so drawn to him. He wasn’t even particularly nice to her. Kaffas, he’d been a downright ass the last time he’d seen her, and purposely so.

She raised an eyebrow and smiled slowly at him. “What, you want me to list all the reasons?”

With horror, he realized that it indeed sounded like he’d been soliciting compliments. “No,” he said hastily, but it was too late; she was already pouring more shots and talking.

“You’re smart. You’re funny when you’re in the mood. When you’re not in the mood, your angry face makes me want to rip my clothes off. I…” She trailed off and ran a hand through her tufty hair. “You get me, Fenris. Or I thought you did.” She downed the shot and poured herself another. “It also doesn’t hurt that you’re fucking gorgeous.” She tilted her head. “Why are you asking me this? Do you like me?”

With a slightly shaking hand, he gulped the shot she’d poured, then watched as she filled his glass again. “That is not the issue,” he hedged. “Whether I like you or not is irrel-”

She bluntly cut him off. “It’s a simple question, Fenris,” she said. “Do you like me, or don’t you? I can’t tell, you see. I need you to break it down for me like the idiot that I am.”

He shook his head in growing exasperation. This was not where he’d meant this conversation to go. Where… where had he meant this conversation to go? He couldn’t quite remember.

He lifted the shot glass to his lips. “We shouldn’t be together,” he insisted, then downed the shot.

She frowned, then placed her glass on the bar with a clatter and poured two more. “I told you stuff about me that no one else knows. And I thought… I thought it was the same for you. Was I wrong?”

“N-no,” Fenris said. He was feeling increasingly agitated. He was starting to get the distinct sense that he was being interrogated; ironic, since he was the one who had clumsily started this conversation.

“Then what’s the problem?” she asked. “Do do you like me or not? That’s all that-”

“Yes,” he finally snapped. “Yes, I do, all right? I like you, Hawke. I think about you, and… in fact, I’ve been able to think of little else.” He snatched the shot from the bar and gulped it in one big swallow, then slammed the glass on the bar and glared at her.

Her mouth had dropped into a comical little ‘o’. Fenris dragged a hand through his hair. “Why are you staring at me like that?” he demanded.

Her expression slowly lifted into a brilliant smile. “I didn’t expect you to say ‘yes’,” she said. Then she burst into laughter.

Fenris planted one elbow on the bar and pointed at her accusingly. “You see? This - your - you laugh like this and it… You drive me mad with your incessant flirting and your laughing and that macabre little dress of yours with the skulls-”

“Oh, that dress,” she drawled. Her voice was vibrant with mirth, like laughter smoothed and curled into speech. “You liked that dress, did you?”

“I…” He buried his spinning head in his hands, then scowled at her again. “I wanted to peel it off and watch it pooling around your feet,” he growled.

Her eyes widened, and Fenris watched with a nearly-vindictive rush of satisfaction as her cheeks turned pink. “Well, fuck me sideways,” she breathed.

Her evocative curse painted a brilliant picture in his mind: Hawke naked and sweaty, stretched on her side while he slid up behind her and stroked the inside of her thigh…

A roar of heat blazed through his chest from throat to groin, and he dragged in a heavy breath. His eyes were fixed on her lips, her plump and parted lips, and suddenly it felt like he couldn’t catch his breath, not even if he was panting for it.

Then Hawke lunged toward him and hooked her hand around the back of his neck, and before he could do more than gasp in surprise, she was kissing him.

Hawke was kissing him. Hawke’s lips, her fingers on his neck, it was… she was…

The next thing he knew, he was on his feet with one hand gripping her short dark hair as he leaned over the bar and kissed her back, and she was whimpering against his lips like the wanton little thing she was. There was a faint clatter of coins as she splayed her palm on the bar - the bar, the fucking blasted bar that stood between them, separating them and stopping them from doing something stupid-

She petted his neck and released a tiny sob of want when he nipped her lower lip. “Fenris,” she begged. “I want - I…”

“Come here,” he breathed. This was a foolish thing to do, an act of complete idiocy, but Fenris couldn’t stop: he was drunk on her, intoxicated by the reddened look of her lips and the taste of tequila on her tongue and the sheer shining joy in her eyes, and he wanted this more than he’d ever wanted anything in his cursed life.

Hawke smiled against his lips, then pushed away from the bar and hefted herself onto its surface, and Fenris gaped at her as she clumsily scrambled over the bar and onto her feet beside him.

She grabbed the lapels of his jacket. “Now, where were we?”

He didn’t waste his breath replying. He dragged her against his body and slid his thigh between her legs, then swallowed her rapturous cry with another kiss.

She slid her tongue against his own, then broke away with a moan as he slipped his fingers into her loose camisole and up along her ribs. “Fucking Maker’s balls,” she whined, then she gasped and thrust her hips against his leg as he snuck his fingers under her bra and pinched her nipple.

He breathed hard as he palmed her pert little breast. His body was thrumming, heavy and pulsing with the strength of his need for her, and he hadn’t felt this way in years. He hadn’t wanted this in years, not since he’d had the tattoos branded on his skin. The tattoos represented so many layers of resistance, of pain and emptiness and regret. Especially since leaving Tevinter, Fenris hadn’t wanted to be seen with these metaphorical scars staining his skin.

But in this moment, he would strip himself bare in the space of a second if it meant Hawke would strip herself as well.

He carefully licked her lower lip. “Let’s leave,” he whispered.

She pressed her lips together, then gasped again as he pinched her nipple harder. “Oh fuck,” she whined. “I… Fenris, we have to lock up the cash, I can’t just…”

He growled in frustration, and she laughed breathily. “You making that sound does not make this easier for me,” she panted. She pushed gently at his chest.

He reluctantly allowed her to step away, then penned her between his body and the bar. “A renegade with a work ethic?” he whispered in her ear.

She shivered prettily, and her hands were clumsy as she collected the cash. “Exactly,” she replied. “Never let it be said that I shirked my duties to this lovable dump.” She shoved the bigger bills into an envelope and replaced the remaining money in the drawer, then picked it all up and shifted away from him. “I’ll be super quick, I promise.”

He allowed her to move away, then shamelessly watched as she hurried to Varric’s office and let herself inside. While Hawke locked up the cash in Varric’s safe, Fenris pulled up his hood and wandered restlessly toward the door.

This was a bad idea, and he knew it. It was stupid and irresponsible, and he suspected that he was going to regret it tomorrow, but it just felt so fucking right. The lingering feeling of Hawke’s hands on his skin, stroking his neck and pressing against his chest - it warmed and riled him the more he thought about it. He thought about her lips and the sharp taste of her tongue, and it was so fucking wrong and selfish and unfair, and he was powerless to stop.

The distinct click of a lock caught his attention. He turned to see Hawke hurrying toward him with her phone in her hand. “I called an Uber,” she said. “It’ll be here in two minutes.”

Two minutes. He had two minutes to do the right thing. To tell her this was a mistake, that he was a complete and utter ass whose only legacy was a trail of bodies and blood and death, and that she should write him off altogether…

She slid her palms along his abs and lifted herself on her toes. “Kiss me while we wait,” she whispered.

He instinctively gripped her hips as she leaned into his chest. “You’re very demanding,” he said.

“Of course I am. This is everything I wanted,” she retorted. She bit her lip, and her gaze drifted up to his eyes. “You’re all I think about, too,” she murmured.

And just like that, Fenris was sunk. His resistance and his reasons were gone, obliterated by the woman in his arms, and in the muddled mess of his sex-scrambled mind, he couldn’t bring himself to care.

In this moment, all he cared about was her: the charming and infuriating woman in his arms, with all her merriness and her melancholy. And for tonight, Fenris was hers.

#fenris #fenris fic #fenris modern AU #fenris smut #damned spot #fenhawke #fenris/hawke #fenris x hawke #fenris/femhawke #fenris x femhawke #fenris/f!hawke #fenris x f!hawke #pikapeppa writes

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silverliningslurk · 6 years ago

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these nights shall become us

Pairing: Nursey/Dex Rating: T Length: 4.5k Summary: Nursey starts sharing a room with Dex. The weird thing is, Dex never seems to actually sleep in it. Nursey thinks it's a problem Dex has with him. He's also determined to work this one out, however much Dex tries to avoid it.

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Nursey was, although he'd never admit it, a bit offended when Dex realised that the dib flip would be shared.

He'd not reacted well.

Perhaps it was an understatement to say he was a little offended, because he was a lot offended, and he'd even thought he and Dex had been getting on well.

It led to one of their biggest fights so far, because even though Dex wanted another flip, Lardo and Ransom both said no. Ransom lived by rules, and the By-Laws were rules - laws, even - of the Haus. They were to be abided by. If Dex had agreed not knowing the possibility of a split vote, that was his fault.

Dex shot back that it wasn’t exactly usual for a coin flip, and stormed out.

Nursey had, until that point, been quite excited about it. He liked sharing a room; it was so far away from the lonely house his mothers called home, and he'd never had to do it before Samwell.

Chowder was quite upset by the whole thing, and worked his magic in pleading Dex to come around. In the end, he begrudgingly agreed to it, provided he could sleep on the bottom bunk.

Nursey was fine with this. He rather liked the idea of watching Dex work at the desk from the upper bunk, unnoticed.

He may have also had slightly ulterior motives for being happy about sharing a room with Dex, and slightly greater reasons for being offended when Dex reacted badly.

So, they went their separate ways for the summer. Nursey spent it between skating at the ice rink, contacting the rest of the team via every social media platform available to him, and being more than a little invested in how often Dex replied to his texts.

It always amused him how someone interested in computers could dislike using them in a social way. He had Facebook, but barely updated, his wall mostly his siblings posting stupid things, and the occasional friend from home (Dex never talked about them. Nursey was very curious). He rarely commented all that much on the group chat, whether that was the one with just the frogs or the team in general. He didn't have twitter, and told him that everyone else talked about it so much he didn't need it. He had snapchat but refused to ever take selfies.

Nursey wondered if he had a tumblr. If he did, it was his personal mission to find it. It would be hilarious, he would have thought.

So summer was spent in a quiet haze of heat and loneliness. Nursey had a lot of time to himself. He visited Chowder over in Cali just for something to do, and tried to visit Dex, but he'd just gotten a vague reply reminding Nursey that he was working most of the time, and couldn't really afford the time off.

Dex had seemed a bit resigned about it when they'd skyped, so Nursey took his victories where he could, and chose to believe that was because Dex wanted to see him, not that he just didn't want to have to work.

And then started their time as roommates.

Dex seemed weirdly on edge, but not overly so. Nervous about starting back, Nursey presumed, thinking nothing of it.

Over the first few weeks, Nursey didn't notice anything wrong. If anything, Dex was better than his last roommate, being fairly tidy but not quite so anal about it, quieter, tending to wear headphones when he was working - when he didn't stay in the library for hours. And he never woke Nursey up when he walked in, whenever he did walk in.

They had their disagreements, but they were minor, mostly. Dex wanted him to be tidier with his study stuff, so Dex could get to his without hassle. Dex wasn't overly happy about him smoking pot in the room, so they compromised by saying he could either smoke out the window or in the reading room. It seemed to suit. For his part, Nursey felt like Dex was avoiding him at times, and tended to leave his shoes right where Nursey - his head known for being magnetically attracted to the floor and getting there the fastest way possible, at times - would easily trip over them. And had done. Several times.

But they worked them out. Dex made an effort to put his shoes away, and not be so distant. Nursey had a designated zone for dumping his stuff in a messy pile.

So things worked well.

Until Nursey started noticing the oddities regarding Dex's sleep patterns.

Namely, the lack of any pattern at all.

Or just. The lack of any sleep.

The only regular thing seemed to be that Dex would not be asleep before Nursey, and would be awake before him. He was totally perplexed as to how he did it, and just to see, started going to bed even later, sometimes managing until two in the morning before he gave up, Dex quietly typing on the laptop, the sounds of it gradually fading away.

During the week, it was easy to explain away. Dex had eight o'clock classes, although who knew why he'd ever wanted to sign up to those. Nursey never started earlier than ten, which suited him just fine.

But at the weekends, particularly when they didn't have practice?

Dex would be sat downstairs, dressed and working, reading, or just chilling. It was like he was phobic of staying in bed, or relaxing, or just having a lie in.

Slowly, it occurred to Nursey that he wasn't actually sure he'd ever seen Dex asleep in a bed.

After that, it turned into an obsession. He tried setting alarms at weird times of night, times no one should be awake. Sometimes he caught Dex asleep, but sometimes, he wasn't even in bed. Nursey never quite had the inclination to find out where he'd gone, too much of a heavy sleeper to ever actually get out of bed to solve the mystery.

So it went unsolved for a month or so. He started watching Dex closely though, in that time, and noticed that since the start of term, he'd gotten worse. He had dark circles under his eyes, drank more coffee, stronger and darker, as if he was forcing himself to stay awake during the day. His reactions weren't as good, even on the ice, and he seemed more listless than he had done.

Noticing that, Nursey decided he had to address the issue. It had to be something to do with the sleeping arrangements, because he'd not been quite so bad last year, and it was virtually the only thing that had changed.

Dex was surprisingly evasive on the subject. Whenever Nursey brought it up, he changed the subject or swiped it to one side, or just ignored it completely, as though he hadn't heard.

Now, Nursey was getting upset. He genuinely thought he and Dex were friends. And now Dex was letting whatever issues he had with sharing a room with Nursey affect him in all areas of his life, but refused to talk about it to Nursey himself.

Was it that he felt like Nursey would prank him? Was he one of those people that hated the idea of people watching him sleep? But he could have sworn he'd seen him sleeping on the tour bus. In fact, he recalled being sort of scared because Dex had been really difficult to awaken at the other end, but Lardo had just told Nursey to leave him to it. Dex got well and truly chirped, but didn't really defend himself as usual. As though he'd been expecting it.

Disheartened by the apparent lack of trust, the uneasy truce continued on for a while. Nursey did his best to ignore the hurt about not being able to be confided in, and the anger that Dex was hiding something vital from him, and Dex continued on like he always had, with next to no sleep, and if Nursey stayed up later just to spite him, well, nobody was perfect.

It all changed a little before winter break.

Nursey wasn't totally sure what had woken him up, but he heard a shuffling, and footsteps going out the room and down the stairs, then silence. He assumed Dex was going to the bathroom. Waited.

And waited.

Nursey found himself eerily awake, perplexed. Was Dex working? It wasn't exactly unusual, but now Nursey was angry. He wanted to know what the problem was. Why Dex didn't trust him, didn't trust enough in their friendship to be able to survive it, for doing such a shit job of covering it up.

He stormed downstairs, determined to get answers.

From the living room, Chowder shushed him urgently before he could even open his mouth. Nursey soon saw why.

Dex was laid out on the couch, his head on Chowder's lap, and dead to the world. He looked peaceful, unlike all the other times Nursey had seen him asleep, apart from the time on the roadie, but then he'd just looked unconsciousness. He genuinely looked peaceful, and Chowder rested a hand in his hair, looking worriedly at him.

Many things went through Nursey's head. What came out was:

"Are you cheating on Farmer?"

In his defence, it was four in the morning, nobody should be awake, and it looked awfully romantic to him, his heart flinching painfully at the thought of losing Dex to Chowder, of all people, and having to reconcile that.

Chowder chuckled quietly, grinning. Thankfully, he didn't seem offended.

"Hey, no, I'm straight, thanks. Dex is very nice, but I love Caitlin." He said, clicking his phone off, his face melting back into worry as he stared down at Dex, almost silent. "He couldn't sleep." Chowder murmured.

"Why? Why won't he tell me? What's wrong with him? This isn't the first time, is it?" Nursey questioned, getting more hurt and irritated. He wanted to be the one Dex could come to with a problem. He just wanted to be the one Dex could turn to, problem or not. Chowder sighed deeply.

"I think it embarrasses him? You'd have to ask him. He doesn't really ask for help..." Chowder replied, reticent. Nursey had the urge to shake Dex awake, to demand answers.

He almost did. The sight of his finally peaceful face stopped him.

"Then why did he come to you?" Nursey asked, frowning, and crossing his arms. It didn't make any sense to him, because before the whole room sharing debacle, he'd been closer to Dex than Chowder had.

"He didn't?" Chowder said. "What?" Nursey uttered, perplexed. How on earth had it happened if Dex hadn't been the one to ask? Nursey sure couldn't see many ways of accidentally ending up asleep on someone early in the morning. Chowder tilted his head, thinking for a moment.

"Well, the first time, I was doing an all-nighter to finish an essay, and he came downstairs and just started helping me with it, and he fell asleep on me. Today was a similar thing."

Nursey took a moment to process it, the image of Dex being that tired. What was he doing to himself?

"And you let him because...?" Chowder gave him a look. "Because he passed out? Because you're not the only one to notice how tired he always is?"

"How many times has this even happened?" Nursey asked, his brow furrowing. He couldn't even pretend to be chilled about this; too early in the morning, and he'd been too annoyed by this to let it go now.

"Uh... A few? Sometimes he's already down here. Bitty says he's seen him down here a few times too."

Nursey blinked, looked back at Dex.

Did he have to sit down here for an entire night to get to the bottom of this? Did he want to?"

"Okay. Okay, I'll- I'll talk to him." Nursey said, backing away. When did Dex even sleep?

Chowder nodded, looking glad.

Dex blinked owlishly, looking excruciatingly tired, watching Nursey, who was sitting on the sofa, half asleep himself.

"What are you doing up?" He asked, puzzled. Nursey scowled at him.

"I could ask you the same. From what I've heard you're always down here at night." He said, and watched Dex sluggishly process it.

"No I'm not, Nurse. Just couldn't sleep." He yawned.

"Really, Poindexter?" Nursey said, standing up, feeling the irritation rise. "Are you saying Chowder and Bitty are lying? That I can't see with my own eyes?" He accused. Dex frowned at him.

"No! I'm not down here that often. I'm fine, Nurse, just leave it." Dex replied. "I'm going upstairs again soon."

But he made no move to actually go. Nursey stubbornly stayed where he was.

Dex seemed to realise he was waiting for more, and sighed resignedly.

"I'm fine, Nursey. I just can't sleep right now." He murmured, and Nursey just felt himself get more angry. Dex was pushing him away again.

"Oh right. And how long has this been going on? Maybe every night since you moved in with me? What's your problem, Dex? Can't sleep in the same room as me? Are you afraid I'm going to hurt you? Are you scared I'm going to try something, just because I'm bi? I should've known you'd be weird like that, Poindexter, should have-"

"Don't make accusations, Nurse! As much as your inflated ego would like to believe, it has nothing to do with you! It never did, and it never will! Go fuck yourself, and leave me alone!" Dex yelled, eyes aflame with anger.

"Not until you tell me what's wrong! Prove it to me! Prove it that you're not a bigoted asshole!" Nursey shouted, annoyed at Dex, and himself. This wasn't how it was meant to go. He was fed up of Dex hiding from him. He hadn't thought it'd been a problem when he'd told the team, but maybe it had, and he just hadn't known. Dex had seemed puzzled, but hadn't seemed to change his behaviour. But maybe sleeping so close to a bisexual person crossed a republican line for him.

"Don't call me that!" Dex shrieked, and looked set to continue when they heard heavy footsteps down the stairs, and Bitty appeared, in shorts and a Falconer's jersey. Dex went pale, and Nursey just felt bad, even before Bitty spoke.

"Y'all may not have class tomorrow, but can we not have a screaming match at whatever time this is?" He said in a dead-pan tone, wearing his most unimpressed look.

"Sorry, Bitty, I'll just- go." Dex muttered, and strolled out the door. The two of them just watched him do it, unable to comprehend it.

"Doesn't he sleep here?" Bitty said, confused.

Nursey snorted. "Apparently not."

So Dex wasn't going to answer him. Well, Nursey needed answers, and he wasn't above being sneaky to get them.

Via copious amount of caffeine lined up, and his phone at full charge and lowest brightness, Nursey set about finding his answers.

At about midnight, Dex finally went to bed, muttering quietly under his breath, no doubt having learnt that Nursey, as a heavy sleeper, would not awaken to such quiet noise.

If he hadn't already been awake, that was.

Dex seemed to fall asleep before his head hit the pillow, his breathing evening out swiftly to a gentle rhythm, which almost surprised Nursey. Waiting a moment, he took a chance to peer over the side of the bed, but Dex was facing away from him.

Spurred on by the caffeine in his system and a recklessness borne of irritation, Nursey managed, somehow, to slide down the ladder, bringing his comforter with him, and settled on the floor. He might have done otherwise, had he not seen Dex's face; it was troubled, set into a slight frown, and Nursey felt like something was wrong. If Dex woke up and asked, he was writing. He could pass many oddities off by saying they were for creative purposes, he'd found.

It turned out to be not so much of a lie. About twenty minutes later, he got a flash of inspiration, fired by the confusion and hurt about the situation with Dex, and the not inconsiderable swig of bourbon he'd taken, it seeming like a good idea in his sleep-deprived state, to mix alcohol and caffeine.

Around two am, he was just beyond tipsy, pleased with the poem he'd created, and very tired. He didn't want to wake Dex up by climbing the ladder, at which he'd surely fail, and with drunken logic, decided that if Ransom and Holster could sleep in the same bed, so could he and Dex. Plus, maybe Dex would sleep better. He'd started tossing and turning, generally looking unhappy, and Nursey was reminded of how peaceful he'd looked when sleeping on Chowder, and wanted to be the one to inspire that.

Or maybe he just wanted to sleep next to Dex.

Surprisingly, Dex didn't actually wake up when Nursey slipped under the covers with him, dimly aware that it was firstly a bad idea, secondly would make things very weird when they did wake up, and thirdly, a bad idea. He didn't much care, especially not when Dex groaned unhappily, a noise which stopped when Nursey wove his arms around him, and pulled him closer. They were essentially spooning, and Nursey was pretty happy with that, and Dex's breathing had evened out again to something much more relaxed, subconsciously curling up, loosely holding Nursey's arms closer to him.

Nursey, at that moment, fell just a little bit more. He felt like he'd happily do this every night, if Dex was even going to look at him tomorrow. He closed his eyes, smiling, and fell to sleep.

Having returned from the bathroom, he at first thought Dex was having a seizure, albeit a quiet one. He was thrashing about, arms flailing, whimpering; the comforter fell from the bed, although this did nothing to halt Dex's motions. It just make them more frantic, unrestricted, as his face twisted into pained expressions that pulled at Nursey, as though he was the one experiencing pain, not Dex.

Darting forwards, he grabbed Dex by the shoulders, and shook him. "Dex, wake up! Whatever this is!" He cried, and it worked miraculously well, Dex sitting bolt upright and nearly taking Nursey out. He fell onto his ass hard, looking up at Dex, who was staring at him in horror.

"Derek, you died, you're not safe here, go, leave before they-"

Dex stopped himself, coming to fully, and Nursey suddenly just got it.

Nightmares. Dex must suffer with nightmares, and maybe that was why he didn't want to share a room, because he was embarrassed about it, and he'd rather not sleep than let anyone know.

How could he be so stupid?

"Nurse. What are you- what am I-" he started falteringly, eyes flitting away, ashamed.

"You get nightmares?" Nursey asked.

"No, I just- not often..." Dex mumbled, embarrassed. Nursey just wanted to hug him.

"It's chill-" "It's really not, stop saying that-" "It is! I don't care, Dex, man, you were freaking me out with the evasion and the exhaustion, I couldn't work it out!" He said, and Dex actually laughed. Somewhat self-deprecatingly, but a laugh nonetheless.

"Sorry. It's stupid. You don't have to- I deal with them." Dex said, running a hand through his hair. "Did I wake you up? Sorry. I can give my dibs to someone else if it bothers you, I'll go sleep in the basement, that'd probably be easier, actually. Maybe Whiskey would want it. Would that be alright?" Dex rambled, holding the comforter tightly.

Nursey felt like he had no control over his mouth. "William Poindexter, if you don't shut up, I will kiss you to stop the stupidity."

Dex blinked, blushed, and looked at Nursey carefully as he continued speaking. "I mean, Whiskey would want to be closer to the lacrosse frat, right? I heard he's friends with them, not that he's subtle. You get on with him, right? You might get Tango visiting a lot though. I think I met his roommate, he seems fine-"

Nursey decided that yes, Dex was doing that on purpose, and that he was going to miss his chance if he waited any longer.

Dex met him halfway, sighing into his mouth.

Nursey felt like he could be dreaming.

It didn't last long, Dex pulling away to yawn, groaning tiredly. "Sorry, I'm just..."

"I know." Nursey commented, barely able to believe what had happened. "We'll talk in the morning." He affirmed, and Dex nodded, looking as though he wanted to say something more.

But he stayed silent, and Nursey recalled his embarrassment, his peaceful face when sleeping on Chowder, the fact that nightmares were usually awful.

"Do you want me to stay here?" He asked. Dex, if possible, went even more red.

"No! No, that's- I-" He stuttered, and Nursey laughed. "I'm not going to try anything, you idiot. To help you sleep. If that's what works." He murmured, and Dex hesitated. "Um, if- don't get mad, but I was kind of sleeping here before you, uh, woke up."

Dex looked at him. "What?" He said, utterly perplexed.

"It was bugging me! You said nothing, and fall asleep on Chowder, but refuse to admit there's even a problem- was this the problem the whole time? Not me?"

"Well, it wasn't not you. Who wants to admit to this?" He made a sweeping gesture, presumably to indicate himself in his entirety. "I didn't want anyone to find out." He then seemed to realise something, making a quiet 'oh' sound. At Nursey's puzzled look, he huffed bemusedly, looking away. "It was alright. And then it wasn't." He said vaguely.

"It helps if someone's there, doesn't it?" Nursey asked. Dex nodded reluctantly.

"It's not foolproof. But I deal with them fine, it's no big deal-"

Nursey just responded with shuffling so they were both under the sheets, in a much similar situation as before. Dex looked as red as a lobster, but there was a small smile on his lips, so Nursey wasn't complaining.

"Thanks." Dex murmured quietly, sounding sleepy already. Nursey was still under the effects of the caffeine, so he was wide awake; it just meant he got the bonus of feeling Dex fall back to sleep, quiet and peaceful and so, so much better. Nursey felt totally relaxed, relieved that it wasn't necessarily him that was the problem, more sharing a room, and he really would not be upset to do this again.

"Goodnight, Will." He murmured, practically into Dex's neck. Dex did not even flinch, and Nursey found himself fading slowly into sleep, smiling.

Nursey woke up briefly to an alarm, and turned it off without thinking. Too early. He was comfortable, snuggled against Dex, and Dex was asleep - testament to his exhaustion that he did not wake up to the alarm - and he didn't need to move.

Several hours later had him being jostled awake by a panicked Dex, mumbling frantically about how he was going to miss his class.

Clearly still sleep deprived. Nursey snorted. Dex swivelled on him, trying to put some socks.

"Don't snort! This is all your fault, you turned the alarm off I swear!" He cried, over-balancing and nearly careening into the desk chair. Nursey smiled lazily.

"You already missed your classes. It's twelve." He pointed out, at with Dex turned to look at the clock, horrified. He seemed unable to comprehend it. "Come back to bed." Nursey said, Dex instead perching on it rather than cuddling up to Nursey, like he wanted Dex to.

"I missed them. I can't believe I- what am I going to do?"

Nursey knew enough that it was a big deal for him.

"Chowder's in two of them. Isn't one of the other juniors in the other? I swear you were talking to him about it. You can catch up. You needed the sleep, believe me." He said, and Dex looked at him, nodding slowly while he seemed to process the whole situation, rather than just the time. Nursey watched the comprehension dawning on his face, and wished it didn't look so frightened.

"What did I do?" He breathed, staring at him in horror. Nursey frowned.

"As far as I can tell, I decided to sleep in your bed. You didn't do anything." He said, unsure how to bring up the fact that they'd kissed, and what this meant. For a poet, Nursey often found himself lost for words.

Dex hissed, and looked away. "Shit." Nursey heard him say under his breath, and then, louder. "Good. I'm going to go catch up. See you." He said, and it was only after he'd left that Nursey considered that Dex might have construed the whole thing incorrectly.

He didn't care so much when he stayed in Dex's bed, and consequently missed all his classes. He was staying here until Dex had no choice but to talk to him.

Faintly, he noticed that Dex looked like a deer in the headlights, as if awaiting some kind of doom, when he returned to the room, finding Nursey doodling in the margins of his writing book, having transcribed the one he'd written on his phone and adapted a few bits that didn't flow very well.

He jumped up, strolled over to Dex. "Tell me what you think happened last night. I'm sure you're wrong, but tell me anyway."

Dex frowned at him. "Does it matter? You got drunk and decided to sleep in my bed with me, and for once in my life I don't wake up, and you turned the alarm off." He stated, eyes not quite meeting Nursey's.

"Anything else?" He asked, curious to see what he'd do. He thought Nursey had been a far greater level of drunk than he had been. Dex looked shifty, but shook his head. "I remember it all, Dex. I had some alcohol, but not much." He affirmed, and it took Dex a moment to think it over.

"Everything?" He asked, his face going red again. Nursey smirked slightly.

"From you and your nightmares - or terrors - to sleeping next to you to ward them off, to this." He said, leaning closer. He was perfectly sober when he kissed William Poindexter the second time, and it was much better for it.

Dex relaxed immensely. "I thought I'd- you, I just..." He stuttered. "Willing participant." He said smugly.

"Shut up, Nurse. Wait, does this mean- what does this mean?" Dex questioned, unsure and uncertain. Nursey sighed in an overly dramatic, long suffering way.

"It means I get a free pass to sleep next to you if we both want, or vice versa. It means I can kiss you when I'd like to. It means, hopefully, that we are now dating." Nursey announced, feeling a wash of uncertainty come over him, fear that he'd read the situation wrong.

Dex smiled shyly. "Dating. I think… I can deal with that. I mean, I don't want to tell anyone else yet, but I think I'd like that." He murmured, and Nursey just took advantage of that to kiss him for the third time, and definitely not the last.

He could deal with that indeed. He would gladly deal with Dex, night terrors and all.

#nurseydex #dexnursey #derek malik nurse #nursey #william dex poindexter #dex #omgcp #omg check please #my writing #hope you enjoyed it #i have no perspective on my own writing and it's quality anymore

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kindofchaoticgood · 7 years ago

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Walk on Water

A celebration story for my surprise four day weekend, wherein Uma and Harry are music stars on tour together who do the relationship tag. Enjoy! (Lyrics from Beyoncé and Eminem’s new song ‘Walk on Water’ and Eminem’s song, ‘Hi, My Name Is’)

There are snatches of music dancing around in Uma’s head, but every time she tries to play them out, they sound wrong. She tries another simple phrase on the keyboard, but a note clanks too sharp.

“Motherfucker!” She growls, slamming her hands down on the keys, which make a dismally discordant noise.

“Leave poor Artemis alone,” Harry chides, stepping into the room. His hair is fluffing all over the place, a result of towel-drying after his shower. “It’s not her fault you can’t do it right.”

Uma shoots a glare at him that makes grown men cower but only makes him laugh. “Shut up.”

“No,” Harry grins and sits down next to her on the bench. “What’s wrong?”

She gives him a suspicious look to assess the seriousness of his question and then says grudgingly, “I can’t get this phrase down. It’s playing out perfectly in my head, but every time I try to play it out on here it sounds wrong.”

“Play it for me,”

Uma places her hands on the keyboard and starts playing, adding her voice to the piano chords. “I walk on water, but I ain’t no Jesus. I walk on water, but only when it freezes.”

She tries to play the next phrase, but she only manages to get through two notes before another damn false note rings out that makes even Harry wince. “Goddamn it!” she shouts, resisting the urge to bang her head on the keyboard. What is it with this fucking phrase?

“Hey,” Harry wraps his arm around her shoulder and draws her closer to him. “You’ll get it, okay?”

Uma just sighs and places her head on his shoulder. He smells like sandalwood, detergent, and something that’s purely Harry, and she curls further into his neck, lured in by his warmth.

“Come on darling,” Harry pulls back slightly from her to look her in the eye, a hint of a grin on his face. “Say it,”

“I’m not saying it.”

“Say it.”

Uma looks at him sternly, trying to maintain her stance. There’s a full-out grin on Harry’s face now, but seriousness in his eyes. It’s one of these things that he does with her, the constant encouragement and praise. She has always been self-deprecating to the point of putting herself down, and it’s a habit that Harry is slowly trying to train her out of. Uma doubts that she will ever be fully rid of the habit, but she loves Harry for trying.

“I’ll get it,” she says, and he smiles at her, not the usual smirk that’s always present around his mouth, not the rakish grin that makes his fans weak at the knees, but a real smile, the kind that makes his blue eyes sparkle like the ocean in the morning and makes his face softer. She loves that smile, and seeing it always makes something warm come to life in her chest.

“See, was that so hard?” Harry leans in and kisses her cheek, and she smiles despite herself and places her head back on his shoulder. She can work on the song another time. For now, she needs to take a nap.

“Love?” Harry murmurs into her hair.

“Hmm?”

“You aren’t falling asleep, are you?”

“I was planning to,” she mumbles back, burrowing into his neck. God, he’s always so much warmer than me. How is this fair?

“Well, you can’t.”

“And why not?”

“Do you remember when you were really tired after doing a concert and an interview right afterwards and I asked you to do a live video with me next week? And you said ‘I’ll do anything you want as long as you let me sleep’ so that live video is today,”

Uma’s eyes snap open and she pushes her head off of Harry. “WHAT?”

“Love you, bye!” Harry launches himself off of the piano bench as Uma tries to grab him and runs away.

“Harry James! Get back here right now, or I’m never having sex with you again!”

*****

“I don’t even remember agreeing to this,” Uma complains as Gil sets up the tripod in front of the sofa. Harry is already lounging on top of it, looking unfairly good-looking, as usual. “Why can’t you do this on your own?”

“Because we polled the fans on Twitter, and they said they wanted us to do the relationship tag for our next video,” Harry says, glancing up at her from his phone.

Uma frowns. “What the fuck is a relationship tag?”

“No idea,” Harry admits, running a hand through his hair. “But they’re going to be the ones sending us questions, so we’ll figure it out.”

Gil gives her a reassuring grin. “It’ll be okay Uma. Desiree and Harriet are gonna be going through the questions as they come, and you know they won’t let anything too bad slip through.”

That much was true. Harriet loved embarrassing Harry, but she was protective as fuck over her brother and Desiree was more like Uma’s mother than her cousin.

“I still have my performance makeup on,” Uma protests in a last-ditch effort to save herself.

Harry casts a glance over her hot-pink lipstick, turquoise eyeliner, and gold contour and smirks at her. “You look hot,” he says simply, moving over on the sofa so that there’s room for Uma.

She groans and stalks over to the sofa, throwing herself down on it and fiddling with a stray black and turquoise curl sulkily as Gil and Harry begin arguing about the position of the tripod.

Harry is the one who uses social media. He constantly posts on Instagram, updates his Snapchat story religiously, and uses Twitter like a lifeline, whereas Uma usually only posts on her Instagram once in a blue moon and only uses her Twitter to post sarcastic comments.

It was only after she started collaborating with Harry that she even got an Instagram; before that, all she had was the Twitter account and a secret Tumblr. To be fair though, there were a lot of things she hadn’t had before Harry.

She still remembers the first time they met; her verse in Khushal Nanzari’s (or, as his fans knew him, Gonzo) new song and the new single she had just released were taking off, and Harry and his band were invited to a celebration party Gonzo was hosting to celebrate the release of his third album. She had been sipping Cristal in a ridiculously tiny glass in an expensive metallic dress when Harry Hook, lead singer in Skullduggery Road, had walked up to her and said, “Your verse in Gonzo’s song was the most lyrically complicated thing I’ve ever heard, and you made my dragon of a big sister tear up with your voice in ‘Rise Up’. In short, you’re bloody amazing and can we collab on something?”

Uma had agreed before she even fully processed what she was agreeing to, because this was the lead singer of one of her favorite bands, how could she say no? They had exchanged numbers and Uma had completely forgotten that she had his number until he texted her the next day I’m also pretty okay at dancing if you need more reasons to work with me ;) and Uma had laughed out loud and set to work writing a song. Within a week, she had the song written and before she knew it, ‘What’s My Name’ featuring Harry Hook had been on Billboards Top 100 for four weeks straight and Harry was asking her out.

And now, they were going on their second tour together and had been together for two years. (Damn, has she really been stuck with him for that long?)

As if sensing her thoughts, Harry leans over and gently bites her shoulder through her oversized hoodie. She ruffles his hair absently, and gives him a small smirk to show him she’s already gotten over her complaints.

“And we’re going live in three … two … one,” Gil calls out, and then starts recording.

“Hey, I’m Uma Triskelion,” Harry says immediately.

“And I’m Harry Hook,” Uma adds, leaning against the sofa.

“We’re live in our tour bus, and we just finished off a performance in the Rabbit Hole – hence Uma’s unique makeup look.”

“Thanks love,” Uma mutters and Gil snickers. Harry just grins before continuing.

“So you lot have been begging us to do the relationship tag, whatever that is, so if you want to ask us a question, tweet us at #AskHumaLive –”

Uma makes a face. “What the hell is Huma?”

“That’s our ship name,”

“What? Since when?”

“Since forever, since we started dating, remember that?” Harry teases. “Or is your memory fading?”

“Who came up with that?” Uma demands, slightly creeped out. From behind the tripod, Gil is silently laughing, and she discreetly flips him off.

“The fans, baby, always the fans,” Harry replies distractedly, scrolling through his phone. “Ah, we already have our first question! AaliahWitch says ‘Uma, when is Harry’s birthday?’”

“June 14th,” Uma replies easily, and then studies her phone. “ChanceDaring12 says ‘What’s Uma’s middle name?’”

“Astraea,” Harry says immediately. “BurrShotFirst176 says ‘Where does Harry’s family come from?’” “England, but you grew up in Scotland.” Uma smirks at the disappointed look on his face. “HarrysHook – nice name, by the way – wants to know if you can name all of my cousins.” “Jonas,” Harry was starting to count off on his fingers. “Desiree. Harmonia. Piper. Poppy—” His face went blank. “Shit.” Gil snickers and Uma grins at the camera. “Second question, and he’s already choking,” she says smugly. “I’m not choking!” Harry protests. “I know that I’m missing four of them – wait, one of them is Madrigal!”

“She hates that name,”

“Madi, then!” “Three more to go,” Uma mocks him. “My cousins are going to be so sad when they realize you don’t know their names; they love you, you know.” “Jesus Christ,” Harry groans, and throws himself dramatically into her lap. Her phone vibrates with a message from Desiree and she laughs evilly as she reads it. “Desiree says that the girls are watching right now, and that they’re really sad that you don’t know their names,” Uma informs him gleefully, then turns to the camera. “It’s okay babies, I still know all your names,” she says with a sweet smile and a wave. “I’m sorry, okay?” Harry says, his voice muffled from under his hands. “I’m an absolute monster but I really need help.” “Hmm,” Uma grins. “What does the Internet think? Do you think I should give him a hint?” Harry turns over to the camera and gives it his best pout. “Please help me, Interwebs, you have no idea how many cousins she has.”

When she glances down at her phone, most of the tweets are in favor of her giving him a hint, and the conversation thread is full of people wondering why she has so many cousins. “Their names start with L, A, and T,” she says, smoothing out his hair.

Harry considers this. “That actually doesn't help at all. D’you have any idea how many girls names start with those letters?”

“They’re all related to music,” she points out offhandedly, snickering when Desiree sends her a picture of the girls making sad faces at the camera.

“I think that made things more confusing, to be honest,” Harry confesses. “I give up,”

“Lyrica, Allegra, and Talea,” Uma smirks down at him.

“Bloody hell!” Harry complains, then addresses the camera as he sits up. “Lyrica, Allegra, Talea, I’m dreadfully sorry I forgot your names darlings. I’ll take you out for ice cream the next time I see you, alright?”

Just then his phone buzzes and Harry stares down at it for a second before saying out loud, “Screw you, Harriet!”

“What did she say?”

“Something about how you need to spray whipped cream on my face. Utter nonsense.”

“Actually,” Gil pipes up, a shit-eating grin on his face, “it’s common custom in the relationship tag that if the person gets a question wrong, then whipped cream gets sprayed on to a plate and then the plate is smashed on their face at the very end.”

“How the hell do you know this?” Harry demands as Uma laughs. “I like this game,” she says smugly.

“We don't have any whipped cream though,” Harry protests, looking desperate.

Gil reaches behind him and pulls out a can of whipped cream. “Actually . . .”

“You bitch,” Harry growls as Uma bursts out laughing.

“Language, baby, what kind of message will this send to the Internet?”

“That he's a backstabbing traitor,” Harry declares as Gil and Uma laugh at him. “Gil Charbonneau cancelled, Marya Rasputin is my new best friend.”

“You wish,” Uma retorts. “Gil, hand me the whipped cream.”

“Sweet Jesus,” Harry groans as Gil hands her the whipped cream and a paper plate and she gleefully makes three large mountains on the plate. “I can't get any of the other ones wrong now.”

She grins. “It's my turn, isn't it?”

“Yeah . . . LittleSeaWitch wants to know where our first date was?”

“The aquarium. You kept on making up weird backstories for all the animals, and we nearly had to leave because you kept on interrupting the tour guide and telling the little kids that the nurse sharks had clinical depression.”

Harry grins smugly at the memory. “That was a good day.”

“Can't take him anywhere,” Uma tells the camera. “HumaLives wants to know what my eye color is.” She averts her eyes from him and then covers them for extra measure.

“Brown,” Harry says instantly.

“How do you even know that?” Gil demands. “Most people get that wrong,”

Harry shrugs. “She has beautiful eyes.”

Uma is intensely grateful that no one can see her blush as Gil lets out a sappy 'Awww’ and Harry kisses her cheek.

“Next question,” she says quickly, before she can start giggling hysterically, like she always does when she's nervous or embarrassed.

“Atlantic_Melody asks, 'What is Harry's favorite book?’”

“Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban. QueenAudreyTheFirst wants to know what movie makes me cry every single time,” she glances up from her phone. “None of them. I don't cry during movies.”

“Bullshit,” Harry says smugly, then does a terrible job of cupping his mouth and whispering, “The Book Thief.”

Uma jabs an elbow into his side and Harry laughs. “Come on darling, don't hate me because it's true,”

“Get out,” she tells him, but he and Gil just smirk at each other over the camera.

“Leader_of_Marching_Band_Nerds asks ‘What does Harry eat for breakfast?’”

“The souls of the innocent,” Uma deadpans. “No, this one doesn't eat breakfast.”

“All my life I was very deprived,” Harry starts rapping. “I ain't had a woman in years, my palms are too hairy to hide-”

“His sister dropped him on his head as a baby,” Uma tells the camera. “WarriorPrincessLonnie wants to know who the dominant one in our relationship is.”

“Oh, me, obviously,” Harry flexes and winks at the camera.

“Funny, that's not what you said last night,” Uma says without thinking, and then starts laughing at the look of utter disbelief and incredulity that Harry's giving her.

Meanwhile, Gil has dropped to the floor, laughing so hard that his face is turning red. “Yes, Uma, drag him,” he chokes out, before dissolving into laughter again.

“I cannot believe you just said that,” Harry says slowly, a smile starting to come over his face as well. “Do you realize what you’ve just unleashed?”

“I ain't afraid of no ghosts,” Uma quips. Her phone is blowing up with messages from her friends; Ashe, Sierra, and Marya are making dirty jokes and Claudine is begging them to stop.

“Plain-Jane-the-Queen wants to know what my shoe size is.”

Uma freezes. Shit. “Well, wizards and witches, that's all the time we have for today-”

“Now hold on just one damn second!” Harry protests as Gil cracks up again.

*****

Later on, after all of the whipped cream has been washed off, and they're curled together on the couch, Uma gently pokes Harry in the shoulder. “Hey.”

“What?” Harry mumbles sleepily into her hair, the sound reverberating through her chest. It's completely dark outside, and the moon is streaming through the windows of the trailer, leaving white light trailing on the carpet.

“I think I figured out the song,” she tells him, lacing their fingers together.

“Really?” His other hand is underneath her hoodie, lazily stroking her hip.

“It's going to be a rap song,” Uma says, and feels Harry shift to a more seated position to look her in the eye. “I was thinking we could collab on it?” She glances up at him. “Is that alright with you?”

Harry is giving her the most awestruck look she's ever seen, the same one he gives her every time she sings for him. “Of course, it's alright love,” he reassures, leaning in to kiss her. “I always want to collab with you.”

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confusedphaniel · 7 years ago

Text

A Sleepless Night with Phil (and Dan)

“You know those have coffee in them right?”

It’s a simple comment muttered as Dan walked past Phil, headed for the remote which sat near the TV. Phil looked down at the bag of chocolate covered coffee beans in his lap and frowned. No, he somehow hadn’t known that, but he wasn’t about to admit it.

“Yeah?” He answers hesitantly, making Dan laugh fondly

“No, Phil you didn’t, or you wouldn’t be eating them at,” He looks down at his phone screen and scoffs “Quarter to eleven at night”

Phil simply sighs and sets the bag aside. “Looks like another sleepless night with Phil then,” He says and Dan laughs

“Yeah, but don’t you think they’ll be a little peeved if you film it in the cupboard? I’ve been on Tumblr, they know we share a room. They’re going to think you’re either quelling rumors or that I’m a total dick who makes you sleep in a cupboard” Dan says. Phil shrugs  “Maybe I can just film it in our room” Dan stops fiddling with the remote from his place standing in front of the Tv and turns to look at him  “Do you think we’re ready for that?” He asks unsure of himself

“We’ve been hinting at them for ages, so why not? I can make the video and not even acknowledge that I’m in whats supposed to be your room, just play it cool” He says, hands gesturing outwards with a slight tone added to his voice

Dan laughs and rolls his eyes “If you’re there, I’m there with you”  So that night, when Dan and Phil finally crawl into bed and it becomes apparent that Phil wasn’t going to be getting any sleep, he pulls out his Phone and, training it on himself, he hits the record button.

“Hey guys,” he says quietly, doing his usual hand movement when the light blinks on. “Looks like it’s going to be another sleepless night with Phil”

“Right now, it’s about 1:30 in the morning and I ate half a bag of chocolate covered coffee beans like two hours ago, so I don’t think I’m going to be getting any sleep, So I thought you guys could keep me company!”

Phil glances to the side as Dan stirs in his sleep then looks back to the camera “I have to keep my voice down, as Dan is asleep right there, and he’s already told me he’ll kick my ass if I wake him up, and I don’t really want that, so…” He pauses for a moment to get his train of thought back

“anyways”

Phil gasps then and turns his camera around, wriggling his feet out from under the duvet, revealing his socks, which were covered in little corgis.  “Do you like my socks?” He asks into the dark, wiggling his toes. “I love them,” He continues, turning the camera back around to his face “But I feel bad because there’s Corgi’s on the bottom as well and I feel like I’m squashing them when I walk” He pulls a face and laughs lightly at this but stops abruptly when Dan stirs

It was then that Dan rolled over and snuggled into Phil’s side, his arm thrown over Phil’s stomach. He was visible on camera, and Phil knew he’d have to ask Dan if it was okay to include that bit in the video, but he smiled anyway and draped his arm over Dan gently.

“Time to get revenge for the picture Dan posted of me sleeping after TATINOF,” Phil whispers, angling the camera down a little bit more to show the entirety of Dan’s face. “Look at this sleepy boy, For some reason, he woke up really early this morning and couldn’t get back to sleep so I doubt we’ll be able to wake him up, but I’m still going to be quiet just in case.”

Then he Angles the camera back up and groans slightly “And I was just about to go for a snack too, now I’m trapped, and I’m hungry” He frowns then, pouting slightly. He rolls his eyes, and with a small smile, he squeezes Dan gently to him.

He talks for a little while more about this and that, and about their plans for the following week. Then he tweets, asking his and Dan’s audience for some questions.

“Okay, the first question is ‘When will you get a dog’. I’ve already told you! Dan and I are renting, and the landlord is not okay with us having a dog here. We’re already Loud enough as it is, adding a dog into the mix will just be total chaos” he widens his eyes and spreads his hand for emphasis, his glasses slipping down slightly,

“We’d be evicted for sure!” He laughs and scrolls some more

“‘How was Dunkirk?’ Dunkirk was amazing! I ate all of my popcorn right at the beginning so I had to share Dans for the rest of the movie. I thought Harry Styles was going to be distracting, but he was so good!” Phil enthuses happily, having really enjoyed the movie. “Christopher Nolan apparently didn’t even know who he was when he was cast, like how can you not know who he is? But I loved the movie, five boats out of five.” He giggles then, remembering a tweet from earlier. “Someone told me on twitter the Emoji I used was a cruise ship, but let’s pretend it’s not because that would be rather embarrassing wouldn’t it?”

“Okay! Moving on, the next Question is ‘When are the new plushies coming out?’ The new plushies, I’m not sure yet, but we’ll let you know, we’re working on them though, don’t worry”

 Phil scrolls for a while before landing on another question he could answer “Okay, someone asked ‘who was the last person you texted, and what did you say?’ Well, let me see. I texted Dan and asked,” He pauses, not wanting to say the most recent text, which was a simple ‘I love you’ so he skipped up one

“I asked Dan to bring me a cup of tea, and he said Alright”

He had said more than that, but Phil left out the part where he referred to Dan as ‘Bear’, and that Dan had responded to the ‘I love you’ text with a simple ‘love you too Xx’ as this video was going to give their audience a heart attack already, what with Phil being in the moon room, and Dan not only sleeping beside him but snuggling him, he didn’t want to lose half their audience to simultaneous strokes.

“Then someone decided to send me a picture of their dog- oh he’s so cute!” Phil says smiling broadly at his laptop, which was perched low on his lap.

After a few minutes of deliberation, he decides to try and go to the kitchen. He slowly begins to slip out from under the covers and leave, but Dan’s grip tightens on him and he begins to mutter for Phil to stay.

  “Dan, I’m filming” He knew this would get Dan, who springs back with a mutter of   “N-no homo” Phil laughs at him and rolls his eyes

“Little late for that bear, I’m just going to get some food, then I’ll be right back.”  Dan just nods, and rolls over, snuggling back down into the covers. Phil then proceeds down to the kitchen, pulling out a bowl and a spoon, he films himself pouring cereal into a bowl.   “Don’t tell Dan I’m eating his cereal,” he says with a giggle, then fills the bowl with milk and sits down to the table to eat it, scrolling through Tumblr on his laptop while he does, occasionally showing some artwork or reading out a funny post or two.

When he does return to bed Dan is sitting up waiting for him, scrolling through Tumblr.

 Phil yawns, covering his mouth with his hand and squeaking in triumph “I’m getting tired! So, I guess I’ll see you guys later!” He waves, wrapping up the video, then stops the recording, crawling back into bed with Dan.   “We have to go through that footage together later,” Phil says as Dan tucks back down beside him

“Why?”

“To decide what we want to include and what we don’t want to include, after all, there’s a lot of incriminating stuff in that footage, and if we released it all, Tumblr may just crash”

 Dan laughs and shakes his head “Okay, but go ahead and put in anything you want, I’ve been thinking, and I think I’m ready to tell them, as long as you are”

Phil just smiles and kisses Dan gently, lifting his chin up, thumb pulling his bottom lip down slightly, chin rested on the rest of Phil’s hand.

 “Okay, now let’s get some sleep”

 And with that, A sleepless night with Phil (And Dan) comes to an end.

#Dan and phil #phan #daniel howell #dan howell #dan #phil #phil lester #danandphilgames #confusedoneshots

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what-even-is-thiss · 8 years ago

Text

Fic, Illogical Nightmare

@cherrybonesrh13 requested a fic about Logic experiencing nightmares for the first time after an unfortunate event in college. This is great, because it gives me the opportunity to project all my problems onto him. Also, the tumblr font makes that title look like it has three lowercase Ls and I am not happy about it.

Tip Jar

Warnings? There are nightmares and panic. Not a panic attack. Just panic. There is also a mention of drowning, but it is not described. Also, it has 2,246 words. Fic under the cut.

Dreams make no sense. They are not predictable. They do not predict future events. However, there is some evidence that they help us think through things. Abstract things that the conscious mind may not fully process.

Not for the first time, Logan was both thankful for and hated the fact that he lived as a part of a mind. On the one hand, nobody heard him waking up with a scream of terror because he didn’t want them to hear him. On the other hand, occasionally things here made even less sense than in the real world, and Logan needed things to make sense.

He sat up in his bed in a cold sweat and tried to quickly regain his composure. It had happened again. The nightmare. The only one he had ever experienced.

After a moment he determined that it was pointless to attempt to sleep again and went to take a shower. He technically didn’t need to shower, but he found it helpful. He turned the water as cold as it would go and stood under it, trying to shake off the feelings that were invading his mind like a virus.

After Thomas and the others woke up he made his way through the mindscape, doing his job as usual and trying to get the images out of his head.

As he turned around a corner with his clipboard in hand, he ran into Roman, walking around the corner at at unacceptable speed.

Only Logic was knocked over. His clipboard and coffee went flying and he heard Roman cry out “Ah! My shirt!”

“Would you prioritize correctly for once in your existence?!” Logic said as he angrily began picking up his papers.

“Oh, my fault. You are right,” Roman said.

Roman held out his hand as Logic finished gathering his papers and thankfully undamaged coffee mug. Logic took the hand up, but was still obviously miffed.

“Would you mind telling me why you were walking around corners in such a dangerous fashion?” He asked the Prince.

“Well, I was looking for you actually. We had another nightmare last night. A reoccurring one actually, and seeing as I have not been able to find why for almost seven years now, I have, quite frankly, run out of options,”

Logan adjusted his papers and began to take note of the ones that he was going to have to remove coffee stains from. After a moment he spoke. “I don’t know why you are coming to me with this particular issue. I do not dream, as you know. That is one problem solving process I play no part in,”

Prince smiled and appeared as regal as ever, but an expert on him could tell he was unsure. “So you claim. However, seeing as neither of the others has ever had this particular nightmare, and it is not a fear I have, that only leaves you, and I have long suspected you. Yes, I am sure you would agree that I have no options left,”

Logan took off down the hall but threw back, “We can discuss this later, Roman. I am busy,”

Morality was happily placing memories in a scrapbook when Roman appeared next to him.

“Oh, hey Roman! Are you here to see my latest nostalgia book? This one has…”

“Not now Morality, I am on a mission!” Roman announced dramatically.

Patton jumped up from his seat and clapped his hands together. “Oh boy! How can I help?”

“We had a nightmare again last night. The reoccurring one I told you about,”

“Well, Thomas doesn’t remember it, kiddo. I know because I’m feeling fine! Which one was it? The one with the cats?”

Roman looked confused. “Morality, we have not had that dream since Thomas was ten years old. In all honesty, I had forgotten about it,”

“Oh,” Morality looked disappointed. “Which one was it then?”

“The one I have been telling you about for several years now. It happens every few months. At least once a year. Thomas is back at college. He is handed back an essay. There are rude and probably untrue comments written all over the page in red ink. Then the paper begins bleeding until the room is full and Thomas is drowning. Every time it happens, it is incredibly distressing, and every time it happens you claim that Thomas does not remember it. Why?”

Patton paused for a second. His smile became slightly strained, like it did when he was feeling confused.

Soon the silence became too long.

“Um, Patton? If you do not have a solution I can be on my way,”

“Um, yes. Sorry buddy. I’m just gonna go back to scrap booking here,”

Roman sighed and sunk down to a different level of the mindspace.

Anxiety was going through a messy stack of papers in his room, seemingly with a purpose. After several minutes of searching he found what he was looking for.

“Oh yeah. Seventh grade improv mess up. That was embarrassing. You’ve always been a moron Thomas,”

Anxiety was about to go and remind Thomas of this particular embarrassing moment when his stack of papers went flying everywhere and he wheeled around to see Roman batting Anxiety’s papers out of his line of vision.

“Hey! What are you doing in my dreamspace you moron? And could you watch where you pop up? I just reorganized that!”

Roman smiled deviously. “We all know that you don’t organize anything, Anxiety,”

“Alright, why don’t you just tell me why you’re here so I can get you out of my room?”

Roman side-stepped out of what was left of the paper pile. “What are these anyways?”

Anxiety’s expression didn’t change. “Receipts,”

“For what?” Prince asked, now mildly frustrated.

“Embarrassing moments. Stuff we did wrong. I’ve got more in the closet, wanna see?”

“I would rather not,” Roman said, slightly disgusted.

“Then get out of my room,”

“Alright, I’ll make this quick. Does Logic experience nightmares? I have experienced that bleeding essay nightmare again, and if you never experience it, and Morality never experiences it, I am at a loss,”

Anxiety put his headphones on. “That’s the only one he’s got.” he said before snapping his fingers and vanishing from the room without a trace.

Logic was relaxing for a few minutes reading a book when Roman appeared in front of him.

“What is it now, Roman?” Logan asked, not taking his eyes off the book.

“What are you afraid of?” Roman asked.

“Fear is illogical,”

The prince folded his arms in a condescending manner. “And what, exactly, is at the bottom of the ocean?”

Logan closed his book with a snap. “Okay, point taken. What can I help you with?” he asked.

Roman perched next to Logic on the couch. “Logan my friend, you and I are more alike than you realize,”

“What does this have to do with anything?” Logan asked, almost bored.

“Would you not shy away from your feelings for once in your life? We are both abstract thought. We are both essential to the creating process,”

“Why are you reiterating information I already know?”

“Logan, dreams have a purpose. I do not only focus on hopes. I take dreams we have during our sleep and I find the cause of them. Things Thomas, the conscious mind, does not have to think about, but the subconscious mind does,” He put a friendly hand on Logan’s shoulder. “If you do not tell me what is happening, it will not stop. The dream will keep coming, and we will both be drowning in red ink forever. It is not a pleasant sensation, Logan. Drowning is not fun,”

Logic closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “Fine. Will I have to tell the others as well?”

“Oh, yes. Of course,”

“I guessed you would say that,”

They all sat around a dining table. Logic couldn’t help but conjure up visions of people gathered in one place for an intervention.

Anxiety looked around as nobody said anything, then he broke the silence. “Look, if you don’t wanna tell them, then should I?”

“I would rather you did not,” Logan said.

“It’s okay Logan,” Patton said, “Take your time,”

Logan cleared his throat and began.

“It is true what I have told you in the past. I do not dream. At least, I do not normally dream. Most nights I spend completely blank. Or, I do not sleep and go to process information or things of that sort. Before one particular incident seven years ago, I could not even comprehend what dreaming was like. Now I do not have a positive perception of it, because the one and only dream I have ever experienced is a hyper realistic nightmare,”

“I know,” Anxiety said.

“That is not helpful,” Logic said.

“Just adding to the conversation,” Anxiety said.

Logan took another breath and continued. “Anyhow, the incident in question was an essay Thomas wrote in a science class. I… I put so much effort in to that essay. The class was required for general education, and I found it especially difficult. It was the first time Thomas had ever written a failed essay that we actually put effort into. I cannot lie. It was incredibly distressing,”

“That is all?” Roman asked. “That is why I can still smell ink?”

Logic adjusted his glasses. “I’ll admit I can see no reason for this dream. Thomas did pass the class in the end, and school is far in the past, but it keeps happening. The first time it happened, I showed far more emotion than is appropriate for someone of my occupation. Even after I experienced it today, when I should be used to it, I woke up quite suddenly with a yell. It makes no sense,”

“He means he woke up screaming and cried for twenty minutes,” Anxiety said.

“Once again,,” said Logan, “that is not helpful,”

“Awww. Buddy,” Morality said, trying to give Logic a hug.

“Please, do not touch me,” Logic said, shooing Patton away with his hand.

“Well, I think we can work through this,” Roman said. “Next time it happens, I shall be ready,”

“Nah, I don’t think so,” Anxiety said.

“Do you ever cause any useful nightmares to happen?” Roman asked.

Anxiety smiled. “You tell me, Princey. You’re the one that’s supposed to be sorting through them,”

About a month later, it happened.

Thomas was sitting in a classroom waiting as a professor handed back papers. As the professor reached him a spotlight turned on and the rest of the students vanished. He was about to take the essay when all of a sudden it was not all of Thomas sitting there, but Logan.

Logic looked himself up and down. What? Was he in control? The professor pointed the essay at him even harder. The red ink written all over it started to bleed.

Suddenly, another spotlight went on. There was Roman, standing on the desk in front of him holding out his hand.

“Do you trust me?” he asked.

Despite the terrifying situation, Logic sighed. “Everything has to be a Disney reference with you, doesn’t it?”

He took Roman’s hand and the other side helped him on to the desk. The professor had disappeared and there was now a steady stream of ink coming out of the essay on the floor.

“Now what happens?” Logic asked.

“We conquer it!” Princey announced.

Without any warning, he scooped Logan up into a fireman’s carry and began to jump from desk to desk.

Logan struggled. “Would you put me down? I am perfectly capable of moving!”

When Roman put him down, he saw that the classroom had grown exponentially in size. The window now looked like it was a mile away and the desks were floating on an ocean of red ink.

“You really have some very deep issues, Logan,” Prince said.

“Apparently so,” Logic said, taking in the size of the room. “Now what do we do?”

“We keep going!” Prince cried.

The two men held hands as they jumped from one desk to another. More than once, one of them nearly fell into the sea of ink and had to be pulled up by the other.

After what felt like hours, the room was nearly full of ink and they were doubled over as they jumped. At last, they reached the window.

“Close your eyes and hold your breath,” Roman announced. “I shall save us, but you have to trust me,”

Logan fought back tears as he thought about drowning in that sea of thick red liquid again, but he kept his composure.

“Very well. I trust you,”

Logic pinched his nose, held his breath, and took a leap of faith.

Roman held the teacher by his waist with one hand and paddled with the other. He felt around in the thick red sea for a window latch. He found one and pried it open. The window burst open, spewing all of the desks, the thick red ink, and the two personality traits out of the classroom.

Logic rolled onto his back on the now red grass outside the window.

“Roman? Are you there? All I can see is red,”

A friendly hand just as wet and gross as his own gripped his arm.

“I am here, nerd. Everything is alright. You do not have to worry about this again,”

“Thank you, Roman,” Logic mumbled, as the dream faded to black.

And from what anyone can tell, Logan hasn’t had a dream since.

#roman wrote a thing #sanders sides #logic sanders #logan sanders #anxiety sanders #morality sanders #patton sanders #prince sanders #roman sanders #nightmare #fanfic #fanfiction #fan fic #fan fiction #drowning trigger warning

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interruptedbyfluff · 8 years ago

Text

Closing Statements

Pairing: Anxiety/Logan

Genre: Hurt/comfort, some angst, some fluff, happy ending

Words: ~2700 (how did this happen whAT)

Warnings: negative self-talk, cognitive distortion, I think that’s it?

Summary: Anxiety thought “My NEGATIVE Thinking” went well, but…what if it didn’t?

Update: Anxiety now refers to himself mostly by name :D

~*~

“You did a good job.” The words rolled around Anxiety’s mind, and a gentle warmth bloomed in his stomach. “All that is commendable.” Logan had given him credit for sitting through that mess of a debate, gone out of his way to make sure Virgil knew he was liked, too. He'd even smiled, something the logical character never admitted to doing (even if it happened all the time anyway), and that smile had been for him. “I don't necessarily mind your company.”

Wait. What was that supposed to mean? No, Logan had meant that despite their disagreements, he still wanted Anxiety around. Verge burrowed a little deeper into the mound of stuffed animals on his bed. Logic had always struggled with emotions, and anything approaching affection would definitely scare him, which meant a lot of double negatives. He had been vague so he didn't have to admit he liked someone out loud. That was all. ...right?

“Well, you are wrong about a lot of things.” The warmth was gone, replaced by a creeping chill. Logan was up front and honest. It was his thing. If he actually enjoyed Anxiety’s company, wouldn't he have just said so? But instead of anything approaching a real compliment, Logan had dodged the topic, relying on double negatives and subtext to make Anxiety feel better, to get him to a “standstill.” Logan “didn't necessarily mind” him. He was wrong all of the last video, and the whole of this one, and now Logan was telling him he was “jumping to conclusions” because he was wrong about that too, and his pain was clearly all in his head and his own fault for being irrational. God, how could he have been so dumb. After all, what was more likely, Logan dancing around his volatile moods so as not to set him off again when they'd just calmed him down, or someone genuinely wanting him around? Virgil was willing to bet it wasn't the latter. Thomas didn't. Thomas flinched whenever he popped up. Logan startled less, now, but he'd probably just gotten used to it. Or he'd started predicting when Anxiety would show up, so he was expecting the sudden onslaught of darkness. Or he just bottled it up with the rest of the feelings he pretended not to have, Verge didn't know. But he did know he wasn't really wanted.

What was it Logan had said, that he “couldn't imagine having a debate with the other two” because they were sunshiney and “unbearable”? He didn't actually like Anxiety, he could just stand Virgil’s negativity slightly better than than Sirs Dashing Dunce and Puppy Puke. Look at that cheap, plastic participation trophy. Which, by the way, he had earned in the debate as well, “participating even though he didn't want to,” and “reasoning in his own special way.” Ugh, the special snowflake award you get when teachers can't think of anything genuinely good to say.

The debate. There was a sneaking, traitorous ray of hope worming its way into Verge's gut. No, no no no, he couldn't get his hopes up, that would hurt even worse when they were inevitably shredded. But he took out his phone anyway, typing in the beginnings of a text to Logan.

“hey i might just be ‘magnifying’ again or whatever but,” he began. He couldn't get past that. But what? He sighed and went to erase it. … Why was the enter button so close to the backspace?! Erase, cancel, delete, anything! But the message sent, and the damage was done.

Silence, for a few moments. Maybe Logan had the volume on his phone turned off? Or he was reading? Maybe he wouldn't notice and Virgil could sneak his phone out of his pocket later and delete the message and no one would have to know-

Bzzt. Never mind, too late. Verge crammed his phone under a pillow. Plan B: hide until the problem went away. It didn't really work, but it usually delayed the first problem long enough for a new one to pop up and distract everyone. And besides, optimism, right? First time for everything. Logan might even let it go. The whole thing was that he probably didn't care anyway.

Bzzt. He wasn't answering. He wasn't even going to look. Virgil scooted down to the far end of the bed, nestled back into his plushie pile, and pulled out his laptop. Desperate times called for distraction, and the best place for that was tumblr.

Verge was about five minutes down his dash and dangerously close to sending someone anon hate just to stir things up when there were two sharp knocks on his door. It had to be Logan - Roman would have just barged in, and Morality would have done one of those half-phrase knocks that came with the urge to knock back before opening the door. No, this was businesslike, no-nonsense and to the point. Definitely Logan. Virgil ignored him.

Two more knocks, followed by, “Anxiety?” Nope. No one home. Don't come back later. The door cracked open and Logan poked his stupid, bespectacled face in. “Hey. Can I come in?”

“It looks like you're going to regardless, so why not,” Virgil scowled.

Logan blinked at him. What, was he expecting Anxiety to still be happy after the video, lulled into complacency by a few kind words? Well, news flash. Verge knew they were faked. He knew better and Logan would not get the upper hand on him again and oh god he was crying. Big, wet tears that were just as messy and embarrassing as the disaster in his head, and his makeup was definitely going to run. Why? Why was it always him, why couldn't he keep his stupid tears inside his stupid face, and of course it was right in front of Logan. He flopped as far back as he could on his mountain of squish and threw his arm across his face, letting his laptop fall to the carpeted floor. It was probably fine. Unlike him.

***

Logan was getting mixed messages. Anxiety had appeared happy at the end of the video. He had not only realized his defense of his isolation was flawed, but recognized the implication that he was liked. Appreciated. Logan should have anticipated how short a time that would last, with Anxiety’s recurring tendencies toward cognitive distortion; that was why he'd focused his energy on researching the topic, after all. The aborted text message he'd received seemed indicative of distress, especially when Anxiety failed to reply after two decently-spaced responses. So he'd gone to check on him and been greeted with sarcasm and a sneer. Again, Logan had failed to account for previous trends; Anxiety was known to become hostile when uncomfortable. But now he was crying, and Logan didn't know why.

Anxiety would do that to Logan; he'd behave in ways that made no sense. Hissing mid-debate, for example. He was a puzzle that didn't quite fit together right, and Logan found him endlessly fascinating. But that would not help solve the current situation.

***

The bed dipped, and after a few moments, Verge risked a glance over his sleeve. Logan was laying next to him, or as close to laying down as was possible. He said nothing, didn't even look at Virgil, just...laid there, gazing up at the ceiling. Virgil tucked his face back into his arm and refused. Refused what, he wasn't sure, but the crook of his elbow was dark and safe and there were no confusing, unpredictable adorable doofuses in there. His eyes continued to stream, dampening his hoodie sleeve, probably smearing eyeshadow everywhere. Black on black, it would look the same anyway.

Verge became very aware of Logan next to him. Not moving, not stirring. Just breathing, deep and slow and even. Calm. In, and then out, and again. It was a while before Virgil could match it, before his lungs stopped heaving and hiccuping. His sleeve was cold. His eyes felt puffy and his throat was sore. The anger was gone, drained out of him. So was most of the sadness tsunami that had plucked him right off the beach and tossed him around without mercy, leaving a lightly throbbing ache behind, like an empty old bruise buried in his chest. And Logan was still here.

Somehow, impossibly, Logan was still here.

***

Logan stared up at the ceiling, picking constellations out of the thousands of glow-in-the-dark stars stuck to its surface, listening as Anxiety's sobs ebbed and eventually subsided. Tracing out familiar stories from the stars that matched the world outside. Trying to make shapes from the ones that looked nothing like the actual sky. Wondering if Anxiety did the same when he couldn't sleep.

It was good, he supposed, that Anxiety was letting himself cry. For someone as tense as Anxiety, crying was likely an important release of emotion. Catharsis was allegedly instrumental to both physical and non-physical health, though Logan still needed to find a few more sources before he really believed it. Tears carried excess hormones and even toxins out of the body, allowing emotional recovery after extreme spikes. This made it no easier for Logan to hear.

He listened as Anxiety's breathing slowly steadied out, gradually synchronizing with his own. He pretended not to notice as Anxiety settled, no longer shaking with sobs that wracked his body. He simply watched the stars and waited for Anxiety to make the first move.

And eventually, he did.

"You-" Anxiety rasped. He cleared his throat and tried again. "You stayed."

Logan turned his head to meet Anxiety's eyes. Hurt still lingered there, but so too did a kind of amazement. And something else, something he couldn't parse, made Logan swallow and shift his focus back to the ceiling as he replied, "yes. You're important."

***

"You're important." That was loaded, probably, but Virgil didn't have the energy to pick it apart. Would it be so bad if, just once, he took it at face value? The air was so soft right now, quiet and heavy like a thick blanket. Comforting. Not stagnant, though, because there was someone else there, breathing it with him. Someone who thought he was important.

Scratch that, not just someone. This was Logan, who couldn't deal with feelings and stayed while he cried anyway. Logan, with his endless curiosity about the world and sparkling excitement about poetry and processes. Logan, who probably knew which of the constellations on the ceiling were real, and which ones Virgil had just made up, and the stories across multiple cultures about each one. Who, after several minutes of putting up with Verge and his feelings, only now looked uncomfortable.

“What’s wrong?” Virgil prodded, gently.

Logan wouldn't meet his eyes, letting the question hang in the air between the for a moment, two. Finally he replied, “I'm not very good at this.”

“At what? You have an unclear antecedent there, Teach.”

That pulled a smile from him. It was small, and gone again as he next statement rolled in on top of it, but that was twice today and Verge immediately decided he needed more of Logan smiling at him in his life.

"...feelings." It took a moment for Logan to begin, but once the words started flowing they tumbled out in a torrent. "There's so much I just don't know. I don't know why you're in pain, or whether saying anything will help or hurt, or what to say. I don't know whether I said something wrong in the video today, or if it actually helped you at all, or if I just came across as insensitive or even snobbish. I don't know how to make sure you feel important and loved because that's not my department but it doesn't seem to be happening and it's just wrong. I don't know if this dissonance is rooted in spending too much time with Morality or if it's innate. I don't know why my heart rate increases when you're around and I don't know what to do about it and honestly I'm terrified."

Fear was his burden, not Logan's. Virgil needed to fix that immediately. "I don't have answers to everything. But let's take them one at a time, okay?" Logan nodded. "The first one you said was you didn't know why I was in pain, right?" Another nod. "Inference-observation confusion." That brought the tiny smile back. It was wobbly, but it was there. "As to whether saying anything will help or hurt, you did amazing. The quiet was exactly what I needed. You didn't push or try to get me to explain, but you also stayed. It was perfect."

Logan's face relaxed, thank goodness. Verge wasn't sure what the right words were, here, but something seemed to be working, to be helping. "Sometimes I need to be reminded that what I'm thinking is way out of proportion to what happened, and that means talking. Sometimes it means just being there. I don't know have an algorithm or anything to help you figure out which I need when, but I can try to tell you. Does that help?" It was weird, acknowledging that he needed help. But Logan was scared, and if facing the unpleasant parts of himself would make Logan feel better, Verge would take on his darkest demons in a heartbeat.

Logan made a face, but replied, "it does. It's not optimal, but it does help."

"As for the video today, yes, it did help. Knowing there are real things like magnifying and mental filtering, and that this stuff isn't just in my head, helps so much. I'm not very good at dealing with them yet, but putting a name to them was huge." Virgil could almost hear the relief in Logan's breathing - nope, that was probably just him projecting. But Logan did look slightly more comfortable.

Here was the hard part. Virgil wanted to gloss over the video, to skip the parts that had freaked him out because he was trying to make Logan feel better, not worse. But Logan would want facts more than he would want platitudes. "You did seem like a bit of a know-it-all, but that's par for the course."

"Golfing, Anxiety?"

"Expression. It's normal for you."

"Ah."

He may have used the metaphor on purpose because he knew it would trip Logan up, but now Verge was out of stalling tactics. "The part that got to me was when you were vague at the end. You were trying to cheer me up, but then all you said was that you didn't not like me? It left a lot of room for...conclusion jumping."

And Logan's face fell. "So when you were crying, that was my fault?"

Oh god. No, this wasn't how this was supposed to go. Deep breath, he could save this.

"A little. Mostly it was the cognitive distortion, coupled with...previous data, I guess? But hey." Virgil nudged Logan gently with his elbow. "I needed that. I feel better than I've felt in a while; that storm was brewing one way or the other."

"Rain metaphor, because of the tears?"

"Yep, you got it." Even though Logan didn't look like he entirely bought it, Verge didn't know what else he could say that would make things better on that one. So he moved on.

"I don't really know what you're feeling, or whether it's because of hanging out with Morality, but I can tell you it's okay. You don't lose who you are just because something feels wrong. Not even if you're Logic incarnate," Virgil emphasized when it looked like Logan was about to protest. "As to the heart rate and the dissonance, would it help if..." he trailed off, nervous. Logan was looking at him with such wide eyes, as if he could tell Verge was about to drop something big. Verge swallowed and reached out, tucking his hand into Logan's. "Would it help if I tell you I like you, too?"

The huge, goofy, totally out-of-character smile that spread across Logan’s face was all the answer he needed.

~*~

A/N: Oh my gosh this took so long, plz feel free to come talk to me about it! Any fixes? Anything that stuck out, good or bad? Better title suggestions?

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