#sorry for the word dump but i hope it's interesting at least c':

[dlysthings]

Little crush pt.6

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A/N: Im so sorry for how much time it took me to write this part, but these past 2 weeks i was sick and ha a lot of sterss at school so i apologise. This is not proofread and english is not my native language so i apologise for any mistakes.

At the woods Daryl was finally at piece, the only place that could give him this scarce pleasure. The sound of the running water around him never filed at calming him down. The creek on which’s side he was sitting on was his little sanctuary, hidden deep into the forest around your town. The sounds were slowly starting to put his mind at ease. He needed that, craved it. After the pain he felt at lunch he needed to take his mind of that, forget a bit about it so he can face it later. It wasn’t the best strategy but it worked for him. If pushing it down until it all became too much to handle and lashed out on the nearest person to him. The only thing he worried about was this person to not be you. Even after hurting him you didn’t deserve his harsh words. He would never hurt you, ever.

But even his own little heaven on earth couldn’t make him stop thinking of today. Why did you not come? At the end it was your idea, so maybe you actually liked spending time with him. Or at least that was what he thought. Maybe one of your friend heard about it and reminded you of the trash he actually was and then you decided to just don’t show up. It should be this. You didn’t want your friends to see you sitting with the “weirdo redneck” the whole school knew him as. And he couldn’t blame you, how could he? At the end of the day he needed to remember who he was.

Still this didn’t stop him from feeling hurt and let down by you. The excitement he felt when he bought the piece of cheesecake, hoping it will bring a smile to your face, was almost overwhelming. His heart was beating like a jackhammer inside his chest. While he waited for you to come and sit, he was thinking how to ask you out. Of course he couldn’t be smooth like the popular guys and straight up ask you. He was thinking that maybe going into the woods and showing you his favorite spots with the reason that was for your upcoming biology quiz. At your house you seemed interested at the subject so he thought this was perfect. And maybe if he was brave enough he could ask you out on a real date. Buy you dinner and walk you to your house. Maybe you would have given him another kiss on the cheek.

Yet that was only om his head. As soon as he saw you with your back to him, sitting with your friends, he knew he shouldn’t have lie to himself. Both of you were from different worlds and he needed to understand that. From now on he would keep his distance from you. Sitting away from you, not staring like he always does. Only this will keep him from being hurt again.

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The next day his plan was on the verge to fail every time you came within his eye side. In every class the two of you had together you were trying to sit in the closest possible seat, the whole time he could feel your eyes practically glued to his head, but he wouldn’t budge. After every class he would get out the fastest way possible. Even though he didn’t even want to look at you he was secretly hoping, deep down, that you will make him stop and explain that you didn’t dump him yesterday, that it was only a mistake. Something like you forgot or a friend of yours needed you for something really important. But he knew he shouldn’t hope. It was useless.

On the other hand, you were desperate to get Daryl’s attention, trying everything you could think of. The first two times you tried to catch up to him and explain why you didn’t end up with him yesterday, he walked so fast that it was impossible to even think of that. You knew he was ignoring you and you deserved it. But the truth was that you did wanted to sit with him, to be in his company again and to get lost into his beautiful blue eyes.

What happened yesterday was that you completely forgot. Until the moment you saw him leave the cafeteria you were so worried about the fact that you just received another bad grade in Science, a subject that you never seemed to understand, and the whole time were thinking of how to change it. It was so stupid and you knew that you had hurt him. The reason was so foolish and the whole rest of yesterday you were thinking how to explain it so it wouldn’t sound like something made up. At the end you decided to be honest with him. You would tell him the truth about what happened and then pray that he won’t call you a liar and never speak to you again. 

You finally were able to sneak up on him after school. Fort the rest of the school day you were laying low, walking in different hallways to not seem like you were trying to catch him. So he relaxed, thought that you gave up on him and everything is how it always was. Not that he was happy, no. Every time he looked around and didn’t spot you within eye sight he felt a little pang in his heart, making him drop his shoulders. He didn’t even bother trying to listen to any of the teachers. He couldn’t make it a day without seeing you. How pathetic. He didn’t even notice your figure standing next to the door he was about to go through.

“Hey, Daryl, do you have a second?” Your words made him jump, turning towards you, looking like he saw a ghost and he couldn’t take his eyes of you. You were looking amazing as always, but a worried expression was adoring your face. Why would you be worried? Immediately he was the one concerned now. Did something happen to you? It didn’t look like you were crying so that was a good sign. The wrinkle between your eyebrows deepened and he remembered that you had asked him a question. “What do ya want?” The moment he said it he regretted the gruff way he spoke and the way your face turned from worried to sad didn’t help either. Good job ya idiot, now ya made’er sadder. “I’m sorry for yesterday” You said with your eyes looking at the floor, not being able to look into his eyes and see the disappointment and pain in them. “I got a D in Science and was really distracted and at the end forgot. I’m so, so sorry. Let me make it up to you. Do you want to go out sometimes?” At your confession Daryl was dumbfounded. He hoped that you really forgot and had a problem, but he never seriously considered it. He was sure you were too embarrassed to sit with him, let alone ask him to hang out with you. And how could he decline that, maybe he was even able to help you out with your troubles. He was always good at science so maybe he could study again with you.

“Ye-yea, I want’a hang out with ya. I can also help ya with science.” At that he seemed too eager so he tried to play it down with a casually “only if ya want’ta” and leaning on the near wall, looking at the smile appearing on your face like it didn’t make butterflies flutter inside his stomach. In a matter of seconds your face turned from sad and worried to a blinding smile. The knowledge that he was the one to brighten up your mood made him feel prouder than he has ever been. “Really?” The joyful look atop your face was enough to make Daryl weak in the knees. No one has ever looked at him with such a sincere hope as you. The attention you were giving him made his cheek burn in a bright red color and he ducked his head so you wouldn’t see it. There was a warmth inside him, going to every part of his body. Such a unique feeling, but oddly a nice one as well. “So... um..do ya want me ta help ya?” He said. “Of course. Do you want me to come to your house?” You offered, thinking he will prefer to be at his place.

Daryl’s eyes widened at your seemingly innocent suggestion. His heart was beating a thousand miles an hour in his ribcage. Last time he came to your place so it was only fair if this time he was the host. And he was too shy to ask to come to your house again. But there was no way in hell he was letting you see the dump he called “home”. You were looking at him with an anticipating gaze. He couldn’t let you down, disappoint you. Just as he was about to ask to come again at your house an idea formed into his head. There was a place he could always go, calm and safe. A place where he felt at piece and wanted to share with you. The woods he always went to calm down was a perfect place. The side of the creek cutting through the forest was an ideal spot to take you and he wouldn’t need to explain his home situation.

“Actually I was thinkin’ of a spot I know. It’s quiet and nice.” He offered and was now anxiously waiting for your reaction. “Of course. Where is it?” you asked. “I can’t really explain it. I can pick ya up from yur house and will show ya. Okay?” Just after saying it he realized how this sounded. He was offering to take you to a place you didn’t know and you probably didn’t trust him. Nice job, ia dumbass. Now she’s gonna think yur some kind of creep. Realy smart. He braced himself for your rejection of his idea. But instead you were on board with it. Even seemed like you weren’t worried at all. The two of you agreed he will pick you up at 10 am this Saturday and later he will drop you off.

After both of you agreed on the details you said goodbye and went on your way, smiling to yourself that Daryl didn’t resent you about yesterday. And the help he offered felt like a blessing. If you were lucky tomorrow, there was a chance to maybe finally make a move towards him.

Daryl was still leaning on the wall you left him at and he couldn’t believe his luck, but there was an unsettling feeling inside him. Just yesterday he swore to keep his distance from you. What if you accepted his offer only for his help? It didn’t sound unbelievable, but you didn’t seem like the person to do so. The joy in your eyes seemed genuine and so did your face. But that didn’t stop him from being afraid he was going to be hurt again. Maybe he should tell you that something came up and he couldn’t, just stick to his previous plan, but he didn’t have it in himself to disappoint you. The only thing he could do was hope for the best. Perhaps he will find the courage to finally do something about his crush on you.

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The time until Saturday couldn’t come faster. That was the thought replaying in Daryl’s head while trying to fall asleep. It was Thursday around 12 pm and he was laying in his room, staring at the clock on his nightstand. The house was quiet save for the sound of his dad’s snoring. When Daryl came home he was greeted with the sight of his father passed out in his armchair, a bottle of beer on the ground next to it. This view was the best Daryl could hope for. The other instance was his dad coming home late into the night and taking whatever anger he felt out on Daryl. After he felt he inflicted enough abuse, his father would go into his bedroom and pass out, loudly starting to snore.

Daryl would almost always stay in his room, in a corner feeling like the weakest person on earth, the most he would do was craw in his bed, looking at the ceiling. On the outside he looked calm, just laying but inside his head he was screaming to himself to finally do something. To get up and move out like Merle, to run from his father. And just when he felt he had enough courage his dad would come with new insults to add on the long list. It almost felt like he was able to sniff out when Daryl felt even an ounce of self-esteem and bravery. Then he would come with blows and kicks, curses spilling from his mouth, making Daryl remember who he really is. And where he belonged.

A creaking sound made Daryl snap out of his thoughts. Wistfully he knew all to well this sound, the very one of his dad’s room’s door. It always creaked, almost like an alarm for him to hide. And that was what he did. Going to his window and carefully lifting it up, so he won’t make himself known to his wasted father. As soon as he could craw out of it he maneuvered his body and landed on the outside of the trailer. Just on time to hear the door to his room open and heavy steps come inside. He styled his movements and strained his ears to hear his father’s reaction. In his head he was praying Will wouldn’t glance out of the window, because if he did Daryl was screwed. Maybe there really’s a god. Daryl thought as the only thing heard from his room was a slurred curse and then the sound of his bedroom door being closed. His whole body relaxed and he slumped onto the side of the trailer. That was a close call and he knew how lucky he was. The down side was there was no way to go in soon so he needed a place to stay. The thought of going to your house flashed across his head but then he realized how it will look. Him appearing outside your front door at midnight at a school night. And naturally there would be too many questions.

He couldn’t do that so he settled on going for a walk around town. It was late so the streets were mostly empty save for a few cars and some groups of teenagers. He stopped at the convenience store and went inside. The only person onside was a middle aged woman, dressed in the store uniform. She only glanced at him and then returned to the magazine she was reading. One of the things Daryl liked about coming there at night was that no one cared who were you. The employees would just look up at you and then return to their tasks. Going to the fridges he grabbed a can of Cola and headed towards the register. Placing the can on the counter he reached for a pack of gum and also placed it on the counter. The woman scanned the items and snatched the bills Daryl had handed her. Placing the money in the register she didn’t say anything to him as he walked out.

Now outside he opened his coke and took a sip of it. He needed to wait a bit more before going back to hi place, just in case his dad still hasn’t fell asleep yet. Looking around and seeing the local park he thought he might as well go there. The park was well lit and a few benches were scattered around for people to sit on. While walking around his mind wandered off towards you. What were you doing now? Probably sleeping but did you also think about your upcoming date. Where you as impatient as him or you were just patiently waiting? Maybe he never even crossed your mind and he wouldn’t be surprised. After all you just saw it as a favor. But for him it was so much more. You were trusting him that he knew what he was doing, even putting hope onto his knowledge.

Without noticing he was already at the end of the park and enough time had passed for him to go home. With sorrowful steps he made his way to his trailer. He always dreaded coming there, but he didn’t have any choice. From the front door he could hear his father’s snoring so at least he didn’t need to worry about that. Going into his room he flopped onto his bed and hugged his pillow. But oh how much he wanted you to be the one there with him. To run your fingers through his hair and place a kiss on top his head. With this dream in mind he fell asleep. It wasn’t surprising when his dream was exactly the thing he wanted the most – you.

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Saturday at 10 am the sound of the doorbell ringing made you run to open the door. You still didn’t have all the things you needed ready but didn’t want your mom opening the door and embarrassing you again, like the last time. Outside your front door stood Daryl with a little smile upon his face. “Hi, Daryl! Do you want to come in? I just need a minute.” You asked and opened the door more for him. “Yea, sure.” Answered Daryl and came inside. While walking beside you your hands accidentally brushed and goosebumps appeared along his skin. Every time your skin touched his he went all red in the face and this time it was no different. While ducking his head so you don’t see the crimson red painting his cheeks you made sure your mom is not around. Thank god she wasn’t, though it only seemed this way.

From the countertop in the kitchen your mom had a perfect view of the front door but you couldn’t see her. And she didn’t miss the way your eyes happened to brighten a bit at the sight of Daryl on your front step. And the way his face would color red almost immediately also wasn’t lost on her. Even though to here both of your feelings were obvious id didn’t seem like the two of you knew. But wasn’t it like this always?

Your house wasn’t that unfamiliar to Daryl now so he was able to relax a bit. The living room looked exactly like the last time he was here. Glancing at you he saw that you were already looking at him. Both of you blushed and looked away with little smiles on your faces. “So… I need only a few things from my room and I will be back. Would you mind waiting for a bit?” You questioned and waited for him to respond. “No, I will be good. I’ll wait here.” He said and looked around again. “Okay then. Make yourself comfortable.” You said and went upstairs, leaving Daryl alone. Going upstairs you grabbed a few books for science and the few snacks you prepared for today. Checking yourself in the mirror for the last time you went down happy with the way you looked.

In the living room you stooped dead in your tracks at the view before your eyes. Your mother was sat next to Daryl on the couch. She was smiling and it looked like she had just asked Daryl a question if you could guess from her expecting gaze. Daryl on the other hand looked like he wants to be anywhere but here. And your thoughts would be right, because Daryl regretted ever saying he wanted to come inside. He should have waited outside. Your mom came into the room just as you disappeared up the stairs, almost like she was waiting for you to leave. She greeted him and immediately started asking questions about him. He was so overwhelmed with that dose of attention that the most he could answer was a simple “yes” or “no”. Your mom didn’t seem to notice how uncomfortable he was so she carried on with her questions about how he was at school and other nonsense. Unfortunately, she didn’t skip the questions about his family but at that moment you came to his rescue.

“I’m ready. Are we going?” You urged looking at Daryl with raised eyebrows and a little smirk upon your mouth. “Yea, let’s go. Nice meetin’ you, ma’am.” Daryl said and got up. Your mom only offered a smile and said a goodbye as well. Finally, outside you questioned where you were going. Instead of answering you Daryl only glanced at you nervously and muttered a “You will see.”. Now that he was finally getting close to the woods he got more and more anxious. How would you react to him leading you into the woods? What if you found the little surprise he made for you ridiculous? But he didn’t let these thoughts win over the joy of being around you. The time you were walking there was mostly silence but it didn’t seem awkward or uncomfortable. It was the exact opposite, a comfortable one and he didn’t feel the need to say something.

After about a 10 minute walk you were at the edge of the forest. He looked at you, expecting to see you looking around and confused but instead you were looking at him curiously. There was not a single sign of worry or confuse. “There is a little creek about 5 minutes from here. Thought you would like it.” He spoke first and waited for your reaction. “Lead the way then.” You said and waited for him to continue walking. Daryl’s nerves calmed down after your calm response. To be honest he didn’t think someone would be that calm around him, let alone you. After all you didn’t really know anything about him. And after a bit of thinking Daryl realized that he didn’t really know anything about you either other than the basic stuff like family and friends. Today was an opportunity to get to know you and he should use it.

The forest both of you were in was beautiful, full of sounds and light. The birds chirping and the rustling of the leaves was like music to your ears. The last time you were in a forest was maybe 2 years ago when you and your family went on a camping trip to a nearby national park. Thinking of it reminded you of how nice it was. You never thought that you could miss the forest but here you were. And looking at Daryl you noticed how relax he looked, no tension visible in his muscles. That was maybe the only time you have ever seen him so at peace. He looked at you with the corner of his eye and you turned your gaze away, not realizing that you were staring but you couldn’t help it. You were seeing new side of Daryl unfold in front of your eyes.

Daryl could already hear the sound of the water running ahead of him. His body wasn’t as tense as it was at your house, the forest having its calming effect on him. Now his mind was worked up if the thing he went earlier to set up was going to be too much. He wanted to make something special for you and hopped you wouldn’t find it stupid. Walking on a bit of narrow path covered in dry leaves somewhere you heard a Woodpecker pecking. Looking around the trees trying to find it you didn’t saw a tree root poking through the forest floor. Tripping on it you were too stunned to reach out your arms to stop your fall. Preparing yourself for the pain bout to come you braced yourself and closed your eyes but no pain came. Opening your eyes, you saw Daryl holding you to his chest, his face having an almost terrified expression on it. Your faces were so close that you could feel his breath mixing with yours. Looking at his lips you wondered what would be the feeling of them pressed against your own. Looking back at Daryl’s eyes you saw a new emotion in them but you couldn’t understand what it was.

Daryl caught you out of pure instinct, not thinking how close your bodies would be. But when you opened your eyes and looked into his eyes with this look of gratefulness his heart started pounding like a jackhammer inside his ribcage. And when you looked at his lips he sneaked a glance at yours. How full the seemed to be and the urge to feel them against his own was almost irresistible. Almost. But what if you didn’t want this and pushed him away from you. Called him a creep and ran away. He couldn’t risk it so he settled with looking at his feet and letting you go, the absence of your body and its warmth against it painfully obvious to him.

“Ya ok?” he asked this time looking at your face, scanning it for any sign of pain. You only shook your head, still a little bit shaken up from being so close to him. “I’m good, don’t worry. Are we close?” Turning to the direction the two of you were walking in you stepped over the root and turned to Daryl. “Uhm…yea. Jus’ a bit more.” With that you started walking again, this time looking where you were going. After just a minute of walking you saw the light reflecting from the surface of the water. In front of you was a creek surrounded by tall trees, the branches of the trees making a colorful shade over it. And then you saw the rest. At the sight of the blanket and the food scattered on it you halted immediately. There were different kinds of food and 2 sodas atop it.

“Hope ya like it. I’ve never really did somethin’ like tha’.” His nervous words made you turn to him, seeing his cheeks painted bright red. He was shuffling from foot to foot and looking down. “Oh, Daryl, you did all this? For me?” One look into his eyes told him that you did in fact like it. “Of cours’ fer ya.” He said with a bashful smile and sat on the blanket, making a gesture with his hand for you to do the same. Plopping down next to him you continued looking around, enjoying the sight before your eyes. Daryl was doing the same thing, his gaze pinned on you. He was finally starting to believe that this was actually happening, you with him at the only place he knew how to relax. You probably weren’t feeling the same way as him but for now he would allow himself to daydream you do.

Turning back to him you pulled out a notebook and stared at him expectantly. He seemed like he forgot what the two of you were meeting up to do. Snapping out of his daydreams he pulled out his book and started to actually work. But every now and then you would take small breaks and would snack on the things he prepared and chat for everyday stuff. Daryl never thought talking with someone can be this easy, not awkward or pointless small talk. And you would ask so many questions, trying to learn the things that he liked. Asking what was his favorite ice cream - chocolate or about his favorite color – green. And he would always return the question absorbing the information like a sponge tossed into water. The knowledge wasn’t something really deep but it was the things that made you who you were.

By the late afternoon you finally understood Science. Turns out Daryl can be an amazing teacher, patiently explaining everything that you didn’t understand. And he now knew enough stuff about you that he felt like he has always known you. When the sun looked like was about to set you picked up your things and Daryl cleaned up, getting the blanked in one hand. Starting to walk back to your house the whole way you were talking and laughing. If someone saw you they would think that both of you were longtime friends, just going for a walk. Gradually in no time you here in front of your front door and you were turning to say goodbye to Daryl. But he was already looking at you, a seemingly sad expression onto his face. He didn’t want this to end, talking and learning new things about you.

“I had an amazing time with you. If you want to maybe, we should do it again.” The enthusiastic tone of your voice making him feel like someone lit a fire inside him, the warmth spreading to very crevice of his body. “I would love ta.” The smile on top his face was genuine and before he knew what was happening you were leaning in and placing a kiss on his cheek. His body was completely straightened up and the look on his face being like to someone just stricken up by thunder.

“Bye, Daryl. I will see you Monday.” Turning around and going inside your house you left Daryl on your porch wondering if he will ever get used to these.

Masterlist: @marvelcasey05 @zomb133g1rl @ryoujoking @starkeysslvt @appearancesaredeceiving4lice @that-german-girrl @tobemylover-x

[monstermonger]

Hey!!

I have recently been going through a rough patch with my art. I am not enjoying or liking how I do linework and shading, and in order to remedy that, I'm collecting works from artists I like that I can study/re-imagine.

Your linework and composition is stunning 😍 and I am currently working on a reinterpretation of one of your pieces. This is the most fun I've had with a piece in a while. Beautiful work !! 👏 👏👏

....Er, I've been away from social media for quite a while, and even before that, I was behind on messages... I'm so sorry for my late responses to asks. I wanna say I appreciate ppl taking the time to send them, really :") thanks for the patience LOL

I'll try to condense this - respond to multiple in a single post. So I don't take up too much space in people's feeds.

so first of all @laurikarauchscat I'm sorry to hear you're in a rough patch, and I think your method of overcoming it is on the right track. At least, it's definitely something I do and it really helps me xD Most notably with all the Caspar David Friedrich-inspired pieces. As long as you give credit to the artists you're reinterpreting from (and asking is polite too, if they're an alive artist :D so yes thank you for asking) it seems perfectly fine to me to do so. Good luck and hope it goes well, I'm interested to see c:

More asks under the cut!

@blurred-antics thank you so much for the words ;b; it's validating to hear, since they're definitely emotions I have in mind while drawing lately. I lost both my parents in the last 2 years, and I've dumped a lot of feelings of grief/longing into my pieces since then, including ones that might seem rather cheerful and perfectly peaceful at a glance. I'm happy others can feel the bit of conflict under the surface-- I don't necessarily mind if my art comes across straightforward, since when throwing art into the public it must be accepted that everyone will interpret it how they want, but it does feel nice to know that some people sense the extra bits. Thank you again!

@kinnersonne thank you very much!! Definitely my favorite subjects at the moment c: You're very sweet.

@marinaaniseed I'm starting to get to ... quite old ones, and I worry this was a time-sensitive question :"D I'm very sorry if I'm too late.

First of all, thank you for asking! I'm honored people like my art enough they'd want it tattooed, it's pretty mind-blowing to me. I've actually had several people ask to use my art for tattoos the last few months and I think overall, I'm pretty okay with it. if you'd like to express support for my art for using it, then you're welcome to buy a print from my shop. It's not required, but it's very appreciated <3 Hope whatever you end up going for (whether my art or not in the end) goes well ^^

@wandersoffdoodling Aw, thank you T.T I'm happy they resonate with you! It's kind of my dream to finish some zines and some bigger projects in this sketchbook/journal art style. So that's very motivating to hear. Thanks again c:

@eldathe once again I apologize for how late I am to respond to questions that were intended to be very quick exchanges lol. First of all, thank you! :") I'm sure this is no longer relevant for how old this ask is, but in case you/(or anyone reading this) would still want to use it as a blog pfp or anywhere, yes, feel free, as long as there's credit somewhere visible! Thank you for asking <3

@starrforge thank you kindly, yours is great too :")

@herebesherlocks Aww thank you so much :") I'm honored it evokes that feeling.

@the-halcyon-effect 100 years later: thank you that's a huge honor to hear :"))))

[booksandwords]

Void Black Shadow by Corey J. White

Series: Voidwitch Saga, #2 Read time: 3 Days Rating: 4/5 Stars

The Quote: That's right I'm not afraid of your guns or your prison; I chose this. You think I'm your prisoner? You're all dead fucks walking, and I'm a monster in human skin.

Warnings: murder, torture and erm... genocide... 😶 yeah it's a lot.

Mariam "Mars" Xi is back. While kicking ass destroying the MEPHISTO fleet at the end of Killing Gravity she lost a friend, Mookie. Now she's off to track him down and bring him home to Trix and Squid on the Nova. She did also gain a potential ally if she can train him, help him and get him healthy, the boy she saved from Briggs's ship, known only as Pale. She is teaching him control but they have a long way to go.

While in Killing Gravity our antagonist was a known quantity, Briggs and MEPHISTO the antagonist/s for Void Black Shadow is more of an unknown, it's still MEPHISTO but there are new players as well. While looking for information on where MEPHISTO sent Mookie the crew of the Nova run into the Legionnaires. The Legionnaires are augmented MEPHISTO soldiers. They are highly reminiscent of the Borg, heavily augmented, with a hive mind and no access to individual thought. I can't remember all my Trek lore but I'm pretty sure the Borg are the inspiration for the Legionnaires. They are an effective villain or the pawns to the villain, in the same way that the void witches were for Briggs. The face of MEPHISTO in Void Black Shadow is Doctor Ratham. The man who runs the prison moon that Mookie has been sent to, Homan. Ratham is an intelligent man when it comes to psychological and physical manipulation and torture. He knows exactly what is most likely to hold a prisoner in line. As a villain, he's the right choice, intelligence over the force of Briggs.

I like the ending which I'm actually going to write thoughts about. Void Black Shadow set up Static Ruin well, encourages the reader to finish the series. Void Black Shadow is an almost unexpectedly intelligent title. The phrase itself appears multiple times with different meanings, the most obvious being space. 

This moment lead me to another thought. Mars is a protagonist you don't want to think too hard about. Honestly, she is probably closer to an antihero. There is just so much death and danger around her. Those closest to her risk their lives, sanity and bodies. She can also play a bit fast and loose with the innocents in play. I really hope Mars finds her way back to Squid, they are good for her. She is different around them. Almost like they remind her a little of Sera. I've decided Pale is interesting, I didn't expect him to be so important. But I can see him becoming a real wild card.

Before I jump into my quote dump I will write what would usually be a conclusion. The plot of Mars saving a friend and getting vengeance the only way knows how is enjoyable but highly violent. That said I do recommend this but If you are going to read it I advise reading Killing Gravity first. While this may standalone reading as part of the sago you will get so much more out of it. The characters are complicated and you will start thinking about the morals of action, means and ends. But that doesn't make the characters any less likeable.

Some quotes

"Did she really destroy a whole fleet single-handed? Shit is crazy." "Yes, Miguel, I really did. And since you've brought me all the way out to the ass-end of nowhere, the least you could do is talk to me, not about me." "Eh, sorry, chica." — Stackhead Miguel is back. This is his "inside" voice, Mars and then Miguel's outside voice. He's now terrified of her, I mean fair she's freaking terrifying, but still willing to give her info. (Miguel and Mars, p.15-6)

"How do you feel, Mariam?" I try to think of the best words to describe my particular mix of brain-fog and sluggish limbs. The best I can come up with is, "Drug-fucked." — Oh God this is a perfect definition for that feeling. I know all about that. I can't believe I never thought of that phrasing before. (Ratham and Mars, p. 81)

[sweet-star-cookie]

For the ask thing: 15 and 22

HELLO I ALMOST FORGOT TO POST THIS OOPSI’m so sorry I wrote way too much again RIIIIIP

15. An OC that is hard to draw / write / RP

Hmm… that’s an interesting one! Drawing mycharacters consistently isn’t as hard for me as itused to be since I finished art school and gotmy skills up, but that doesn’t mean I don’t havea hard time! As for writing, I find villains moredifficult to write in general, because I’m muchbetter at creating protagonists instead. Theideologies and general demeanour of a “goodguy” come more naturally to me, but I do enjoythe challenge of trying to write a good villain! Ironically however, I have one character who has given me trouble in both aspects before, and that would be Snowy here (I love my owl son though fgfdghsdga). 

His design (aside from his armour) has changed quite a bit over time, because of both style development and the fact that he ages throughout his story. Getting his face right was the biggest challenge at first, as the original version of him ended up very close to other characters I’d made at the time. Theimage you see here is the one I am satisfied with as far as his aged up versions are concerned,but it’s all very much in development still.

Speaking of which, writing him is another interesting challenge. A character like Cassie iscloser to what you’d think a typical young fantasy adventure protagonist would be: upbeat,colourful, extroverted, a go-getter. Snowy, on the other hand, is much more reserved, level-headed and methodical. That’s not to say that I’d want Snowy to be any different though, andthat’s also not to say that he isn’t motivated either. The challenge comes in understanding howhe would react to certain things, including his motivations. He shares the “silent sufferer” trait that I have whenexperiencing trauma, but he does not possess the same rampant anxiety as I do, so I oftenhave to re-write scenes based on that. He’s not one to immediately panic or have extreme emotional reactions to things, at least not on the outside.

His backstory shaped this in him; he grew up knowing it was best to keep his head down andwork through the pain, but that gets much harder for him to do later on as the stakes gethigher. Even the strongest warrior can only deal with so much when people’s lives are in peril 9times out of 10, much less a young recruit like Snowy. He may not have rampant anxiety, but he does have rampant heroism like hisfather, finding a problem to solve wherever he goes, whether he can solve it or not. But unlikePrince Arvais, he doesn’t do it for the sake of flourish or fame, and therefore doesn’t care muchfor the spotlight. His inherent desire to help does wear on him as he learns of the realities ofbeing a knight, and his wings carry a lot more societal weight than he first realized. I can definitely relate to certain aspects of this setup, but if I were in this situation I would react very differently, and that’s what I have to consider with Snowy’s character.

Another challenge comes in not making him boring either. As I said earlier, having a morereserved character doesn’t always lend itself as easily to an interesting protagonist, but I knowit can be done. It is possible that the other characters with more outward personalities mightseem more interesting than Snowy anyway, but as long as I still give him a well-developed andwell-rounded character, he should do just fine. ;u; I want to do him justice as best I can, even if it requires more re-writes than usual.

22. An OC you didn’t expect to love

Honestly I love all of my OCs by default, but there is one that I wasn’t expecting to getattached to as much as I did, and that would be my boy Scorpio here. :D

I already loved him for his design and concepts of course, but the more I developed hisbackstory in relation to Ophiuchus and his dynamic with Cassie, I ended up making him a moresignificant character than he was in earlier drafts of the story. I am a sucker for the “edgelordmeets the cinnamon roll” dynamic and his slow transition from reluctant mentor to protectivefather/older brother with Cassie is so fun to write. :’D

He’s actually a bit hard to write too, as, like Snowy, I have to really think about how he wouldreact to certain things with a more reserved personality. But in Scorpio’s case, the contrast in personality between him and Cassie lends itself to a lot of good character moments, especiallywhen she can break down his walls a bit and show the lesser-known parts of his personality.Scorpio’s actually a bit of a prankster when in the right mood, so you can be sure he andCassie bond over that once she gets to know him (probably pranking Aries like Capricorn does,or Libra like Gemini does).

I also love writing the initial encounter stuff too, so I think having both is really what made mefall in love with Scorpio’s character as a whole. How he reacts to meeting Cassie does tie intohis connection with Ophiuchus, but that isn’t apparent until much later. Both Cassie’s Starglassand the one that Ophiuchus had give off the same “aura”, so before Scorpio even sees Cassiehe assumes hostility, sensing its presence. But on first impression, one assumes that Scorpiois hostile simply because that’s who he is, a stone-faced scorpion with a deadly glare and evendeadlier weapons. Taking one look at him would give anyone that impression, and Cassie isunderstandably terrified of him at first. This is amplified even further when she finds out he isher mentor, and thus the dynamic begins.

I really enjoyed the idea of Scorpio mentoring Cassie, as that gives Scorpio’s backstory acyclical nature. Ophiuchus was once Scorpio’s mentor, so having a similar job passed to himwith something as important as the Starglass, you can bet Scorpio’s got some extra baggagewhen it comes to that. Scorpio is also on the younger end of the spectrum in terms of agecompared to the rest of the zodiac (in his 20s, I’d say), so even he has some learning to dowhen it comes to teaching others. His zodiac companion, Scutum, was initially assigned to himas a sort of mentor in his early days as a sign as well, and it wasn’t all smooth sailing either.Despite his cool demeanour, Scorpio’s origins paint him as a lot more volatile than one mightthink. Though in the timeline of this story, that volatility only really shows in moments of trueperil, which is definitely present in the final climax. I’ve been fleshing out that part again lately,so it’ll be cool to have it come to light eventually. :’D

[along-came-atsushi]

It's a strange question, but… Do you think Dazai had ever sex with someone ? He's someone who's don't like being in an vulnerable position and intimity seems inconfortable for him so… SORRY for my english, it's not my first language !

That’s a valid question and tbh I already thought about that myself. And your English is quite good, I understand you. It’s not my first language either, so ;)

That really depends on how you interpret Dazai, and as always people have different opinions. Therefore different people will also tell you different things.

We must also keep in mind that BSD is not a romance story. So things like who has sexual experiences and who doesn’t, who has a romantic partner/love interest and who doesn’t, isn’t important to the story and its characters, and therefore not mentioned.

I hope you don’t mind that my answer ended up to be longer than I first imagined. But I tend to look at things more closely than to give a simple “yes/no, because I think...”

~ ~ ~

You can take Dazai’s flirtations at face value and believe his acting. It then really seems that he’s the number 1 womanizer.

Chuuya also confirms that Dazai has broken many women’s hearts. But we don’t know how far those interactions went. We don’t know if he only flirted with them, if he had a romantic date with them, or if those were one-night stands.

Maybe it’s being left ambiguous on purpose for our own interpretation. Maybe it’s going to be revealed in another novel.

However, Dazai is mostly seen flirting with women to:

a) gather information (e.g.: when he put the transmitter in Higuchi’s jacket to spy on her, because he already assumed that she was with the PM. Another example is Sasaki, the girlfriend of the Azure King. But more on that later.)

b) get something he wants

(e.g.: when he flirted with the nurse who took away his phone, so he used flattery to change her mind and get his phone back from her. Another example is the waitress he tries to distract, so he doesn’t have to pay his tabs. But she isn’t taking any of his shit and he knows it XD)

c) simply for fun (or out of boredom). He asks random women to commit suicide with him or to kill him, even though he exactly knows they won’t do it (the waitress is an example for this again).

The anime either left it out or censored it, but the first light novel has some sexual/erotic hints regarding Kunikida. We definitely know that Kunikida finds Sasaki sexual attractive, and he has been asked before if he had a date (explicit in the sense of a one-night stand).

Which then leads to the scene where it looks like Dazai invited Sasaki over to have a one-night stand with her. At least that’s exactly what Kunikida is thinking, because that’s just how he interprets Dazai:

“Thank you so much, Mr. Dazai. You... you were very...kind to me last night...”

Miss Sasaki flushes bashfully for some reason.

“What’s wrong, Kunikida? You’ve got a really weird look on your face.”

“Dazai... don’t you think that’s taking things a little too fast?”

“I... I was the one who asked him to let me stay over. I basically forced him.”

Later on Dazai confirms that he slept in a different room and that he didn’t touch her.

If Dazai truly is the number 1 womanizer he’s always playing (or people think him to be), then that would’ve been his chance. And there is no reason for Asagiri to censor it in any way, if he already made sexual/erotic hints before.

It’s implied that Dazai already suspected Sasaki when he and Kunikida first met her. Just like in the case with Higuchi, Dazai playing a dumb womanizer who’s just flirting with women is his way of gathering information. So, he plays the womanizer and flirts with Sasaki to eventually get something out of her. The problem is that Sasaki is an excellent manipulator and actress herself, and she’s using Dazai and Kunikida for her own plans, too. Therefore Dazai can’t confirm his theory as quickly as he can with Higuchi.

There’s also this reaction from Dazai, which I think is really interesting:

“[...] You know there’s nothing going on between Miss Sasaki and me,  right? [...] I slept in another room. I haven’t laid a finger on her. C’mon, do you really think I’d try to seduce a woman who was almost killed earlier that day? I’ve got a little more sense than that. [...]”

Doesn’t sound like a heartless and selfish womanizer to me.

.

It leads to the question that if Dazai had sex it’s when and with whom?

As stated above, he was already flirtatious during his PM time. Unfortunately Chuuya had been the witness of many of these, feeling sorry for all the women Dazai left heartbroken.

Given the fact that Dazai apparently only has contact with Chuuya during missions and not in private, it’s a high possibility that all these interactions Chuuya knows about was Dazai flirting with women for ulterior motives (gathering information etc.) and that he just interprets them the same way Kunikida does.

Since Dazai’s mindset during his PM time was more depressed and dark, I doubt that he honestly was in the mood for sexual encounters. It’s also nowhere stated in the Dark Era novel that he had an encounter anywhere like this before. It isn’t even mentioned that he once flirted with someone out of personal interests. And since he sees Ango and Odasaku as his friends, those two would’ve been the ones to know about.

.

All in all I interpret Dazai as someone who’s acting most of the time, playing someone who he truly is not and hiding what he truly feels. And that includes his flirts with women. It’s easier for him, if everyone around him just assumes he’s shallow and selfish, when he in reality longs for something honest and is even afraid of getting hurt in the end.  

[Dazai saying A and then doing B deserves it’s own meta, but that would be too much, and my answer already has gotten way too long.]

As soon as he gets from the women he flirts with what he actually wants (be it his phone or information) he dumps them. He doesn’t need to place himself in an intimate position with them, because he’s just that good with manipulation, which includes flirting. I also think having Dazai really have sex with any of them takes away his genius, because then it seems that he HAS to do A in order to get B. In other words: He HAS to use his body, his mind and words alone aren’t enough. But that’s just my opinion.

Therefore I believe that Dazai actually didn’t have a sexual encounter before, not even for gathering information. He knows how to act like a smooth womanizer and he knows how to win over a woman’s heart:

“And from my experience, it takes only a smile and some kindness to get a woman swooning over you when she’s fallen on hard times.”

I’m sure he whispered some erotic things in the nurse’s ear, maybe purposely leaving her with an outlook for something more. But that’s all just make believe and pretend. Ultimately, it doesn’t tell if he has actual sexual experiences or not. He’s just playing along.

[oriigami]

Adventures in Babysitting

[So ever since doing some age math for a different fic, I’ve had this headcanon that Dragon spent awhile as Cora’s designated babysitter, so I wrote some extremely self-indulgent and headcanon-heavy fluff. Read it on ao3 here!]

“OI, DRAGON!”

Garp’s voice echoed down the halls of marine headquarters, and Dragon immediately started mentally packing up any hopes he’d had of a quiet day. Maybe if he found an unused office or someplace else to lay low until his father lost interest or got distracted...

He didn’t quite manage it on time; he rounded a corner, headed for one of the ladders that led up to the roof, and nearly ran smack into the very man he’d been hoping to avoid.

“Ah, there you are!” Garp said brightly. “Take this, will you?”

And he shoved a child into Dragon’s arms.

Dragon cursed, hurriedly readjusted his grip so as not to dump the poor kid on the floor, and glanced up his father.

“This?” he echoed, and then, after a quick glance down at shaggy blonde hair and arms patterned with faint scars, “…Isn’t this Sengoku’s kid?”

He’d seen the kid in passing once or twice since Sengoku had brought him back to Headquarters, usually trailing close in Sengoku’s footsteps, quiet and a little jumpy. He hadn’t really anticipated that this would be how he wound up actually meeting him.

“Yup!” Garp laughed, reached down to scrub a rough hand through the kid’s hair. “This is Roci! Senny asked me to look after him for the day, but I just heard Roger was sighted in Paradise and I have to go chase the bastard down. You don’t mind, do you?”

“I don’t know-“

“Great!” Garp said. “He’s a good kid, doesn’t really talk, shouldn’t give you any trouble. Thanks again!”

And then he was gone, barreling back down the hall, leaving Dragon no room to get a word in edgewise. Dragon watched until he disappeared around the corner, footsteps quickly fading, then sighed and looked at the kid- Roci- who was giving him an uncertain, wide-eyed look from behind his messy bangs.

“Hi,” he said, and sighed. “I’m Dragon. Sorry about him. I’m going to set you down now, okay?”

Roci nodded, and Dragon crouched down to lower him to the floor.

“How old are you?” he asked, leaning back against the wall.

Roci frowned for a moment, then held up six fingers.

“Six, huh? Can you read yet?”

A nod.

“That’s good. My dad mentioned you don’t really talk. Want me to find some paper to write on?”

A hesitation, and then another nod.

“Alright, follow me,” Dragon said, pushing himself to his feet and setting off down the hall. Roci fell into step beside him, hurrying a little to keep up, and Dragon took the opportunity to take a better look at him. His gait was a little jagged and uneven, not pronounced enough to be a limp but maybe a sign of some old injury, and the scars he’d noticed before were bright under HQ’s fluorescent lighting, thin lines and bigger circles all up and down narrow arms.

He didn’t know where Sengoku had found the kid, just that he’d come back with him after some mission somewhere in North Blue. He sure wasn’t about to ask. Scars like that didn’t come from nowhere, and six year old kids didn’t just not talk without some reason.

Roci stumbled, tripping spectacularly over what looked like nothing at all, and Dragon stopped in his tracks, turning and bending down.

“You okay?” he asked, offering the kid a hand to help him up. Roci took it, picked himself up, and nearly tripped over his own ankles again while doing so, his hand tightening around Dragon’s to keep from smacking his face into the floor again.

Dragon sighed, readjusted his hand to get a better grip, and tugged the kid to his feet. “You’re kind of clumsy, huh?”

Roci flushed a little and nodded, gaze fixed on the ground.

“...You can keep holding my hand? If that makes it easier?” Dragon offered after a moment.

Roci didn’t say anything- of course- but his hand tightened just a little more in Dragon’s, and the next time he tripped, Dragon was able to keep him on his feet.

Dragon led them into the first office he came across, and managed to find a notepad and a pen after emptying most of the contents of someone’s desk onto the floor. He passed them down to Roci, who immediately scribbled something down, then held the notebook out.

Sorry, it said, in a childish, slightly uneven hand. No elaboration, but Dragon didn’t have to think hard to guess what he was referring to.

“Don’t worry about it,” Dragon said, waving a hand. “Better I’m looking after you than my dad, honestly. When I was your age he had me running drills with his men, and it was terrible.”

He dropped down into the unoccupied desk chair, propped his feet up on the desk. “So how’re you liking HQ so far?” he asked. “You’ve been here for a month or so now, right?”

Roci nodded, settling down with his back against the desk drawers at Dragon’s side. I like it, he wrote. It’s

A pause, while he tapped the pen against the notepad a few times, then finished, clean.

“Ha, yeah, I guess it is,” Dragon said. “The marines are pretty big on that. Order above all, and all that sh- stuff.”

Roci nodded, and after another pause: I want to be a marine.

“Yeah? You considered getting a haircut?” Dragon asked idly, considering the kid’s shaggy mess of hair. “Marines usually keep it short.”

Roci shook his head immediately, so hard it was almost violent. A pause, then he scribbled something else down in his notebook.

Yours is long?

Dragon snorted. “Yeah, well. I’m not gonna be a marine, so.”

Roci blinked and tilted his head, the why? clear and unspoken. Dragon frowned and tipped his head back to look at the ceiling, trying to figure out how to explain in terms a child would understand.

“There’s... bad things in the world,” he said after a moment. An extreme oversimplification, to be sure, but one that was unavoidable. He might be tactless sometimes- often- but he wasn’t about to give a six-year-old a crash course in the horrors of slavery and genocide. “I’m going to try and fix them, and if I want to do that, I can’t be a marine.”

Roci was giving him a curious look from behind his bangs. “Don’t tell my dad I said that,” Dragon added after a moment. “He’d probably get on my case for ‘indoctrination.’” The kid just looked confused at that, and Dragon waved a hand. “Never mind.”

Roci was still giving him that curious, uncertain kind of look, and Dragon tipped his head. “What is it?”

Roci scribbled something in his notebook, then turned it around. Garp-san is your dad.

Dragon nodded. “That’s right.”

A pause, and then, with another quick scribble: Monkey D. Dragon?

Dragon raised an eyebrow. “Yes, that’s my name,” he allowed. “Why?”

You’re nice.

“Not really,” Dragon said, and almost laughed out loud at the openly doubtful look that won him.

He wasn’t nice, really, and he knew the path he was planning on heading down didn’t leave much room for softness anyways, but- he did like kids, and they deserved to be treated with at least a little gentleness, especially kids who the world obviously had been cruel to.

“You know any sign language?” he asked curiously, and Roci brightened a little.

I’m learning, he wrote. Sengoku-san is teaching me.

He signed something with quick movements, then wrote, My name. R-O-C-I.

“Can you show me one more time? Slower?” Dragon asked, and when Roci ran through the gestures again, he copied him, a little clumsily, and repeated it a few times until he felt he had it down.

Roci lit up, smiling big and toothy for the first time since Dragon had met him, and it almost felt like the room got a little brighter.

“How would you do my name?” Dragon asked.

Roci frowned for a moment, clearly thinking, then signed another short chain of gestures, slow enough that Dragon could follow along. Dragon copied him- D-R-A-G-O-N- and Roci nodded enthusiastically.

A smile tugged at Dragon’s lips, and he glanced up at the clock on the wall. It was past lunchtime, and he realized all of a sudden he was starving.

“You want to go rob the kitchens?” he asked, standing and absently offering Roci his hand again. Roci nodded, bouncing to his feet and only stumbling a little, and took it.

—

Sengoku found them several hours later, sitting on the roof of Marine HQ, Dragon still snacking on what was left of their stolen food cart. Roci’s head jerked up from where it had been bent over his notepad, and he waved excitedly at his adoptive father. Sengoku returned the wave, a reluctant smile tugging on his lips before he turned his attention to his son’s erstwhile babysitter. “Dragon,” he said, half-sighing.

“Sengoku,” Dragon replied without looking up, sounding absolutely unimpressed. “Thought you were doing inspections today?”

“I cut them off early when I heard Garp had left to try and chase down Roger again,” Sengoku said with a grimace. “I was worried he might’ve been reckless enough to actually take Rocinante with him.”

Dragon snorted. “He probably would’ve been, if he hadn’t run into me first.”

Sengoku sighed, pressing a hand to his temples and closing his eyes for a moment. “Thank you. Really.”

Dragon waved it off. “It was no trouble,” he said. “Roci’s a good kid. Wouldn’t mind looking after him again sometime.”

“I’ll take you up on that, if you’re serious,” Sengoku said, absently reaching down to ruffle Roci’s hair. “I’d much rather have you watching him than Garp.”

“I’m always serious.”

“Except when it comes to respecting authority figures.”

“Give me a reason to respect you and I will,” Dragon said impassively. “I like Roci, though. Like I said, he’s a good kid.”

“He really is,” Sengoku agreed, softening slightly, glancing down at Roci, who smiled up at him. “I’ll leave you be, then. Come on, Roci.”

Dragon nodded, signed something at Roci. Sengoku wasn’t paying enough attention to catch it, but whatever it was, it made Roci visibly brighten, face lighting up with a grin. And-

Well. Sengoku might have had a truly awful day, but at least he’d gotten a reliable babysitter out of the deal, so he supposed it balanced out. Garp’s spitfire son wouldn’t have been his first choice by a long shot, but he had to admit the boy was at least measurably more reliable and better with children than his father was, and the two seemed to really get along.

And anything that got Roci smiling like that was a win in his books, anyways.

[cc-pdf]

Eclipse

Izuku Midoriya x Reader

Word count: 2400

Warnings: none

(Quirkless AU)

The fluffy haired boy had finally worked up the courage to ask you out, although he didn't tell you where you two would be going. He was so flustered when he asked you. His face was so red it looked like he was going to explode. He mixed up quite a few words too. Of course, you couldn't say no to those precious little eyes of his. If it wasn't for how bad you felt for him then you probably would've said no. You barely even knew him, but you knew it took him a lot of confidence to ask you out. Most of your friends had picked on you for saying yes.

Izuku was pretty shy and most definitely a nerd. His hair always looked like he just rolled out of bed. And, well, his fashion choices were.... okay. A couple people would pick on him sometimes, but not too often. You could tell he was pretty smart, but most of the time he seemed kinda awkward. As expected your friends would prefer you to go out with a popular boy that's on varsity teams and always pays attention to his looks. You would probably prefer that too, but you didn't want to hurt the little green haired boys feelings. You knew he was a pretty delicate boy.

A couple months ago your boyfriend had broken up with you. He had brown fluffy hair that always looked perfect and shining blue eyes. He was on the varsity football team of course too, his dad was the coach. He was nothing but perfect to you... well at least you thought. Your friend had set the two of you up at a football game several months ago in the fall. You liked him a lot especially because of how most girls were jealous you were dating him. It made you feel above everyone else. He was pretty nice but sometimes he would pick on other kids. Not harshly though. A couple months ago he had started to slowly ignore you. You took the hint and you haven't talked since. He found another girl. She was about 5'7 with beautiful long caramel hair. She had perfect skin and her body's curves were sure to make any boy swoon. Every time she walked past you could smell the sweet sent of expensive perfumes. She was any boys dream girl. The way he had just forgotten about you left a gaping hole in your heart. You're still not over him. His name just makes your stomach swirl in sickness.

Izuku Midoriya is smart enough not to go for bitchy popular girls, but he knew you were different. You were much nicer than the rest of them and he could tell you especially hated it when they picked on people like him. Sometimes it made you giggle though, which you felt wrong for doing. You didn't really act as cocky or stuck up as the rest of them either which confused him. He thought you were just absolutely stunning with that luscious h/c hair and those bright e/c eyes. During class he would always study your features in awe. He felt as if you were almost trapped in the world of popularity. He knew he could never get with someone that's friends with the populars, but he couldn't help but try.

It was a Saturday night and for the past half hour you had been working on getting ready. You were dressed in a comfy crew neck and a light colored skirt. You only had light makeup on, just some lipgloss and mascara, you didn't really need to impress the boy too much. You and your friends group chat was blowing up that night, they wouldn't stop teasing you about your little date. You ignored the messages, it annoyed you how petty they were sometimes, although you could agree with most of the things they were saying. You were startled as you heard a quiet knock on your front door.

"Sweetie! I think your somebody might be at the door!!!" Your mom said sweetly.

"Coming!" You yelled out from your room quickly finishing your mascara. You sighed and walked out of your room and to the front door. You slowly turned the door knob and opened it to the boy, as expected with his wild evergreen hair and his lazy outfit.

"Hi, y/n." He said almost shaking from nervousness.

"Hi!" You said with a smile. His cheeks were growing furiously red and he was trying his best to hide it. It made you giggle a bit.

"I'll be back Mom! Bye!!" You said as you quickly shut the door behind you.

"So, you never told me where we're going." You said trying to break the silence because you knew he was too scared to speak.

"Oh.. uh I thought we could go to one of my favorite places." He said shyly scratching the back of his neck.

"And where's that?" You asked curiously.

"It's a surprise." He said trying to hide his blushing face once again. He couldn't believe he was even talking to a girl like you.

"What's that you have?" You asked pointing to the long box in his hand. You really hoped he didn't get you a present. You already felt bad enough.

"You'll see." He said while starting to walk on the sidewalk.

"How long will it take to get there?" You questioned him.

"Only a few minutes." He said looking down at his feet.

You two silently walked along the sidewalk in the brisk night to your destination. It was pretty awkward but you dealt with it.

Finally you had arrived next to a cement wall. It didn't look too exciting. It was pretty confusing as to why he would bring you here. It looked like the outside of a dump.

"Here I'll help you over the wall." He said nervously.

"What? We're climbing that wall? I mean I don't usually scale walls on dates. You're nuts." You said sassily.

"Come on you can do it." He said trying to encourage you.

You ran up to the wall on your tip toes peering over it.

"Woah..." You said underneath your breath.

"Neat, right?" He said walking up next to you.

"What even is this place?" You said gazing over the wide field.

"It's the plane graveyard." He said trying not to sound too nerdy.

(Here's some pics if you don't know what a plane graveyard looks like. It's basically where they bring a bunch of old planes from wars and stuff.)

He grabbed your waist gently and helped you over the wall. He was trying so hard for his face not to turn extremely red. He then jumped over the wall after you. He led you over to one of the planes, stroking it as he walked by.

"This is the real history, not the stuff we see in those history books." He said studying the plane.

"Wait, are these real bullet holes?" You asked closely examining the holes in the metal. He smiled at you, he didn't know you would actually find this interesting.

"Yep!" He responded, walking over to the next plane.

He dragged his hand along the wing of the next plane as he walked towards it. You tried to too but you couldn't reach since you were just a bit shorter than him.

"The Navy found this one last year off the coast of Japan." He said looking at the wreckage.

"They did a corrosion study on it... after 40 years at the bottom of the ocean this is all it rusted." He said focusing on the front of the plane.

"Our grandparents sure knew how to make stuff." He admired the plane with only a few spots of rust.

"H- how do you know all of this stuff?" You asked looking up at him.

"Well, a pilot from 44, came back a few weeks ago to look at this. He stood here and looked at this thing the whole day..." He replied while taking a few steps back to take in the sight of the whole plane.

You looked at him in shock. You knew he was smart, but you didn't know he knew all of this.

"Hey! come on." He said jumping into the plane.

"A- are you sure we're allowed to do that." You said starting to get nervous.

"Yeah, nobody ever comes here anyways." He said waving you over.

You sighed and jumped into the seat next to him.

He opened the slim box he had been lugging around, only to see a small telescope.

"Here." He said handing it to you.

You gently took the telescope into your hands. You looked up into the dark night sky through it.

"Oh my god... look at all those mountains up there." You said fascinated while studying the bright full moon through the telescope.

"And valleys, canyons, and planes..." He trailed on.

"What's that thing up there that looks like a... star sapphire? What's that?" You said studying the different sections of the full moon.

"An asteroid hit there... it made a crack in the moon 100 times the size of the grand canyon." He said looking over at your precious face.

"And... on the right is the sea of tranquility. The first space ship from earth landed there. The day I was born..." He said looking back up at the sky.

"That's why you're so into astrology, right?" You said passing the telescope back to him.

"Astronomy." He corrected you softly.

"No, well up there it's just a future world..." He said looking into the telescope.

"By the time I'm my Dads age, people will be living there, and working. Maybe even us..." He continued on, placing the telescope on his lap looking back into the shining stars.

(Queue music. I would suggest listening to Eclipse by Pink Floyd right now.)

You looked over at him and gazed into his dark green eyes. You couldn't help feel fascinated by the way he explained those things. You weren't much of a person to be interested in space, but there was something about the way he stated these things. Were you falling for some nerd you barely even knew? You questioned yourself. It couldn't be. But nobody had ever done something like this before for you. It was a whole new feeling. For sure your old boyfriend would've never gone out of his way to do something like this, let alone even know anything about astronomy.

You two sat in silence for a few minutes gazing up at the thousands of stars in the late sky. You looked over at him and smiled a bit. He jumped a little when he realized you were looking at him.

"Oh, sorry." You said looking away.

"The moon, it looks different now... It's not as mysterious or romantic." You said playing with your hair.

"Well I'm sorry I ruined it for you." He said quietly looking down to his feet.

"You didn't ruin it, you just changed it, I guess..." You said staring into the big moon.

"You know... I had never actually studied the sky like this. Because of you, I think I have a whole different perspective on it now..." You said still admiring the different sections of the starry sky.

"What do you mean by perspective..." He asked in shock. He didn't know he would have this much of an effect on you.

"Like, I didn't know there was so much to look at... It's actually pretty interesting." You said pointing to each star trying to count them.

He gently smiled at you.

"You're different." You said.

"W- what?" He said confused.

"All of my friends think you're just some little loser. They pick at you all the time. Before this I thought you were just some random nerd that cared way too much about school." You said with a saddened expression.

"Yeah... I know." He said looking down, scratching the back of his neck.

"You're not though..." You trailed on.

"W- what do you mean?" He stuttered.

"You're actually pretty interesting. Now that I realize it... there's a lot more to you than what people say. You're pretty cool, you know." You said looking down at your feet.

"Oh, I- I didn't know you thought I was c- cool..." He said still stuttering.

"Could you ever count how many stars there are up there?" You questioned him, changing the subject.

"No." He giggled at you.

"Actually, theres supposed to be a solar eclipse happening soon... maybe we could go see it." He said turning around to look at your e/c eyes.

"That sounds pretty intriguing... How about, make it a date." You said looking over at him. You were actually pretty interested in him. He was much more than you thought before. Your friends were all wrong. Even if he is just some nerd like they all say, he really knew how to make you feel... special.

His eyes had lit up from your response.

"Uh... yeah sure." He said rushing his words while looking away trying to hide his rosy cheeks.

"Oh my gosh... it's already 9..." You said while looking down at your watch.

"Wait... that's a pretty nice watch." He said looking over to see it.

"Oh yeah... it was my grandfathers. Actually he was in the Vietnam War." You said moving your finger around the rim of your watch.

"Well, he must of been a great man." He said while jumping out of the plane onto the dirt.

You two had walked home that night, holding hands, while still studying the night sky. That night he had changed your whole perceptive on humanity. From now on you wouldn't focus on what everyone else said about someone. If you wanted to know they type of person someone was you would get to know them, not base them off of what everyone else said. Although your friends weren't thrilled by the fact you were falling for the schools so called loser, he was nothing but perfect to you. That night Izuku Midoriya had faded all of the thoughts of your old boyfriend away. He was different from the other boys... in a good way.

AAAA okay that was kind of cheesy but I hope you liked it. :)

[fandom-necromancer]

A little Distraction Part 4

This has been prompted by a lovely anon! I still can’t believe how many of you like this story, I hope I can do it justice XD Enjoy!

Fandom: Detroit become human | Ship: Reed900 | AU: Reverse AU (Warnings: mentioned abuse, but you know the last part,so...) Link to part one no longer available [Part2]   [Part3]   [Part5]   [Read complete on AO3]

‘I-I-I’m still embarrassed about it.’ Richard looked at Gavin sitting in the passenger side lips quirking up. ‘Hey, don’t be’, he laughed. ‘Connor and Hank won’t mind, and it was nice seeing you relax for once.’ ‘Holy shit, I m-m-met you yesterday!’ ‘I guess’, Richard shrugged and drove on. ‘Hey, don’t overthink it. If you want to, we can all pretend it never happened.’ Gavin staid silent for a while. ‘I don’t think I want that.’ ‘Hmm?’, Richard hummed in question. ‘What do you mean?’ ‘I mean that it f-f-felt gooood. Wouldn’t want it to never have happened.’

‘Then try not to worry’, Richard suggested gently. ‘I didn’t mind it. I enjoyed that evening a lot.’ They both drove in silence for a while, then Richard hesitantly asked: ‘You still want to come back home with me? Or did you change your mind?�� ‘No, I… I stand by my word. I would… I think I just want to belong somewhere, and you might just work.’ Richard smiled to himself, nodding. ‘Right kind of weird for you?’ ‘Right kind of normal’, Gavin disagreed. ‘But yeah, you get the essence. Let’s just get back.’

They arrived back at Richard’s house and took their share of the leftovers back inside. Connor had packed Gavin an extra portion of the thirium cookies and he didn’t really know how he should feel about that. Still, as he sat at Richard’s table over an unfinished puzzle, munching on them. ‘You r-r-r-really enjoy doing this?’, he asked sceptically. ‘Yeah’, the human nodded. ‘But it’s just a pictuuure. It’s right there on the p-p-packaging too.’ Richard huffed. ‘Yeah, I guess it’s pointless. But it’s fun and something to keep you busy. I always got at least one on Christmas because the grandparents didn’t really know what to get me. Connor and I always finished one the days in between the years. I like to hold up that tradition.’ Gavin frowned and took a random piece from the heap. He looked at it, then at the picture on the box and placed it in the middle of the empty space. ‘Th-th-this one belongs there’, he said without much interest.

Richard looked at it and laughed. ‘You need to find pieces that fit together until you have the whole picture, Gavin.’ ‘If I continue liiiike this, it will be finished too.’ Richard sighed and handed him the piece. ‘Try find a piece in there that fits with yours.’ Gavin took it and looked at the box until the human took it away. ‘Without cheating’, he demanded. ‘I’d have to try every single one!’ ‘Nah, you can sort those out that don’t fit by colour’, Nines shrugged. ‘Only then it’s trial and error.’ Gavin shook his head and searched the heap, occasionally flicking pieces a bit too far when his hands glitched. Apparently, he had found one and tested it out. The piece fit perfectly. ‘This is pointless’, he commented, searching for the next one. ‘Maaaaaybe this is just a human th-th-thing.’ Richard grinned. ‘Maybe. Any other idea? What would you rather do?’

Gavin was thinking, trying to find the next piece. His hands glitched stronger suddenly and he had to momentarily stop. ‘We… I went for a walk with m-m-my f-f-family baaaack then. The day after Christmas.’ Richard stopped, attention focussing completely on the android in front of him. ‘Th-th-th-the kids loooved the snow. Alwaaays went to the Grand C-c-circus park and build a snowman or…’ This time it wasn’t his voice-box giving in. Gavin just stopped speaking. ‘Do you want to go there?’, Richard asked carefully. ‘I could drive us there.’ ‘I don’t actually know’, the android answered. ‘Maybe?’ He looked at Richard uncertainly. Nines tried to be reassuring and stood up. ‘I’ll get the keys. We can go and if you don’t like it, we simply drive back. I wouldn’t mind stretching my legs a bit after Hank’s food.’

-

Less than half an hour later, they stood at the entrance of the park. The trees were clad in festive lights and shone on the pathways in the beginning dark. Quite a few people were walking about, but it wasn’t at all crowded. Richard wrapped his scarf closer around his neck to keep out the cold and put his hands in his pockets. He looked around, breath coming out in little clouds and he smiled. ‘It’s nice here.’ Gavin just nodded and hesitantly followed the human in. Maybe it had been a bad idea to come to a place loaded with memories, but when he watched Richard smiling at the lights all around and locating the nearest trailer that sold coffee, he was almost ready to change his mind on that first impression. He quickly joined him and a cup of warmed thirium was pressed into his hand. Confused he looked at it. ‘Hey, you think I’d only get myself something?’, Richard chuckled. ‘How’s that saying? If you’re cold, they are cold?’ ‘I b-b-believe that’s for dogs’, Gavin complained. ‘Androids can’t get cold.’ ‘Then pretend this stupid human doesn’t understand and is concerned.’ ‘Urgh’, Gavin groaned at Richard pampering him, but still accepted the warm drink, sipping on it.

‘There’s a free bench over there’, the human pointed out. ‘How about we sit there and enjoy our drinks, hmm?’ ‘Th-th-the whole point oooof this is to move a bit after eatiiing a lot.’ ‘Are you complaining about everything today?’, Richard asked, but the soft smile on his face told Gavin he didn’t mean it. ‘I just like complaining’, Gavin shrugged. They sat down on the bench underneath a decorated tree and just watched the people walking by and the decorations. After a while though, Gavin’s eyes found their ways to the person sitting next to him. There was a certain spark in those grey-blue eyes as they looked up towards the night sky that still held a few stars even with all the light pollution. Richard caught him staring the next moment, but Gavin didn’t avert his eyes. He was still thinking about how to put everything he felt right now into a simple thank you, as someone came running up to him.

‘Gavin!’ He flinched at the touch, but recoiled even more when he saw who stood there, a hand on his knee. ‘Kathy?’, he breathed the name in question, disbelieving and panicking at the implication of the child standing here. ‘Max! Max, Gavin’s here!’, the girl shouted, and Gavin’s heart sank as another familiar face appeared smiling as he recognised him. ‘Gavin!’ The android just stared at them wide-eyed, unable to speak. ‘Kathrine, Max, where are you? Get back here!’ Oh no. He knew that voice. ‘What- Get away from that man, you two!’ Gavin looked up in the face of the man that pulled his children away from where they had stood before him. And the man stared right back. They both were likely the same level of shocked, but Gavin was freezing completely over. He couldn’t move and at the same time trembled in glitches, while his LED was stuck on red.

‘Err… Kathy, Max, please go back to your mom, okay?’ ‘But that’s Gavin!’, the girl protested. ‘Yes, let daddy talk to him for a while, okay?’ The man turned around, watching them run back to their mother before facing Gavin again and swallowing. The android still was unable to do anything but stare. ‘Gavin… is it really you?’ The android nodded jerkily. ‘Yes. It’s me, John.’ The human took a step back, breathing heavy. ‘Oh, God.’

Richard looked at the encounter from the side-lines, needing no explanation to what happened here. ‘Oh, God, Gavin, I’m so fucking sorry. I panicked and I wanted to keep them save and I- I… Fuck, I didn’t know you were alive. I did horrible things to you. Truly horrible things. I can’t even imagine how you must have felt and fuck. I’m sorry. I- I didn’t know, I-‘ ‘IIIIt’s o-o-o-okay’, Gavin pressed out just to make the man shut his mouth. ‘No, it’s not. I fucking beat you almost every day! And when I was afraid you were alive and would turn on me, I just dumped you telling you to wait. Although I knew I’d never come back for you.’ ‘It’s okaaaay’, Gavin tried again. ‘I d-d-d-don’t waaaant to th-th-think about it anymore.’ John looked at him, brows furrowed in confusion. ‘Why?’ ‘B-b-b-because I have my ooown family now.’ It was the first time, the man even acknowledged Richard sitting next to him, coffee long forgotten. ‘What?’ ‘R-r-richard. He found me at the scraaaapyard and t-t-t-took me hooome. I haaated you. I waaanted to c-c-come back. I missed you. Th-th-the kids. You were my faaamily. But I waited l-l-l-long enough for you. I want to st-st-start again now. With Richard and h-h-his family.’

John swallowed hard and got to his knees, ignoring how the snow soaked the fabric of his trousers. Carefully, he took Gavin’s hand in his and nodded. ‘Okay. I understand. Just… I didn’t mean to hurt you. I thought you were a machine that didn’t feel anything. I… I still shouldn’t have, and I know it. I’m sorry I did this to you. I want you to know that. I’m sorry you had to go through all of that because of me. I’m… I’ve sought help for my problem. The kids and Helen, they are safe from me. And I wish you all the best in your life. I hope we never meet again.’ He stood up and took a step back, facing Richard and he could see the man was really meaning it. ‘Treat him better than I did. Promise me.’ Nines nodded. ‘I will.’ ‘Thank you. Goodbye, Gavin.’

Richard watched the man hurry back to his family and Gavin sip on his thirium with shaking hands. They had long left the park, when he dared to talk to the android again. ‘Are you alright?’ ‘Not r-r-really’, Gavin answered. ‘I think I would like to go home now.’ ‘Of course’, Richard spoke gently and guided him up and towards his car. ‘I’ll drive us home.’ The sound of the engine made Gavin ease up a bit, but it was only when they arrived at the man’s home, that Gavin dared to release all the built-up tension.

‘Thank you.’

Richard looked up from where he had put away his shoes. ‘For what?’ ‘Everything. Being nice and caring. Picking me up to beeeeegin with. I think even if he did come b-b-b-back to get me, I wouldn’t want to go back with h-h-h-him.’ ‘You don’t have to thank me for that’, Richard sighed. ‘Maybe not. But I feeelt like I had to.’ ‘I understand’, he nodded. ‘What now?’

Gavin looked over at the table. ‘You still have to finish that puzzle, right? And maybe a m-m-m-movie afterwards?’ Richard smiled at him and Gavin really could get used to seeing that. ‘Sounds amazing. Let me just heat up Hank’s leftovers from yesterday and we can get right to it.’

[>next part]

[keichanz]

Koi No Yokan | 11

AO3

Well, shit. Now Inuyasha felt like a giant asshole for making her relive those painful memories and he grimaced, ears flattening into his hair as he looked away. Fuck, but what sort of uncaring, despicable bastard did you have to be to sell your own damned niece to a brothel? And sending a young boy hours, possibly days away, from the only blood relative he had left? Inuyasha silently vowed if he ever met the lowly creatures who displayed such selfishness, he’d—

…Okay he didn’t know what he’d do, but he’d think of something. Because that was just wrong and he knew if his parents ever heard such a tale, they’d agree with him.

She suddenly stood up, drawing him from his thoughts, and he watched her open the window before dumping the water out of it. She busied herself with tidying up the room, setting the basket of medical supplies by the door to take care of tomorrow, and it was obvious she was trying to distract herself from her own thoughts.

“I’m sorry,” Inuyasha blurted and she paused to glance at him, her expression inquisitive. “For, uh, what happened. And it probably wasn’t easy, uh, saying all that.”

A fleeting look of surprise crossed her features and then they softened into a smile. She wandered over to perch on the end of the bed, though she angled her body toward him.

“Thank you,” she said sincerely. “And it’s okay. It…actually felt good to get all of that off my chest. I hadn’t told anyone all of the details since it happened and it feels like I can breathe a little easier, you know?” She shrugged. “I only gave Sen a watered-down explanation so not even she knows everything.”

Then she smiled at him and it was so genuine, so bright and sincere that Inuyasha felt his face go warm.

“So thank you for listening to me,” she said, gratitude in those great blue eyes of hers.

“I, uh, y-you’re welcome?”

Inuyasha wanted to groan and cover his face because seriously? Jesus Christ.

Instead he cleared his throat and tried to distract her and himself from his awkwardness by saying, “Uh, you and Sen. Seem pretty close.”

She smiled again and crawled to the head of the bed before propping her back against the thin headboard and wrapping her arms around her knees. She stared at her feet for a minute, collecting her thoughts, and Inuyasha took the opportunity to scoot back until he was leaning against the headboard as well. Even though she was a small thing, there still wasn’t much room on the bed for two people so his thigh brushed her feet, but she didn’t seem to mind so he didn’t give it much thought.

“Sen is my friend and the only one I can trust,” she admitted. “None of the other girls made an effort to be nice or even pretended to be. My first night here, she tried to tell me to run, to flee in the middle of the night. She wanted to protect me from this place, but like a fool I didn’t and now…”

She sighed and idly played with the gauzy material of her dress.

Inuyasha digested that in silence before asking, “Why didn’t you?”

Kagome shook her head. “I was scared. I had nowhere else to go. No money, nothing to my name but the clothes on my back and the shoes on my feet, and now I don’t even have those. I’m pretty sure Madam Kirina burned them. So now…I have nothing. What other choice did I have but to stay?”

Inuyasha’s jaw tightened and he looked away, glaring ahead at nothing in particular. As much as he hated to admit it, staying here had probably been the smartest thing for her to do with no money or nowhere else to go. Someone as delicate as her would get eaten alive out there, either by the harsh realities of a cruel world, or by hungry demons looking for their next meal.

“Anyway,” she continued with a sigh and his ear flicked toward her. “Sen has done her best to protect me from interested men and Madam Kirina, always making up excuses for me so I wouldn’t have to, er, entertain. I hid in the kitchens when I could with the pretext of preparing the guests’ something to eat. This time though, I guess…I guess she got tired of me hiding and, well…”

She trailed off but she didn’t need to finish. Inuyasha had witnessed the exchange between them, recalling clearly the brothel owner’s harsh words. He was well aware of the unfairness of it all and found himself wishing he could do something, anything to help, but then had to chastise himself because he was being ridiculous. There was nothing he could do. She was an escort now, property of this brothel and its cruel owner. After he left tomorrow morning it was unlikely he’d ever see her again.

Still, though, a part of him couldn’t help but feel a little guilty since he and his group of men were responsible for how things had gone tonight for her. Okay, Miroku was mainly responsible, but semantics. Granted, even if they hadn’t shown up, things still might have gone the same way because frankly Madam Kirina was a bitch, but there was no way of telling, so Inuyasha didn’t dwell on it.

He had to accept there was nothing he could do, and move on.

“How’s your arm?” she asked, pulling him away from his musings for what felt like the nth time that night.

Inuyasha flexed his arm, a little surprised the sting he’d felt before had diminished almost entirely.

“S’fine,” he answered, giving a shrug. “Hardly stings anymore. You’re pretty good at that. Treatin’ injuries, I mean.”

The girl smiled and gave a sheepish shrug, but her face flushed in delight.

“My parents were doctors,” she explained. “I liked to help take care of the patients and I picked up a thing or two.”

“It’s a useful skill to have.” Inuyasha grunted before sliding off the bed and stretching. Damn, that bed was small.

She said nothing in response and he glanced at the girl—

Inuyasha inwardly sighed. He really needed to stop calling her that.

“You got a name?” he asked, taking a step back and leaning against the wall as he crossed his arms.

She blinked, evidently having not expected that. Then she smiled.

“Ka—” She cut herself, remembering Sen’s advice about false names. Something about protecting yourself, and it was pretty sound advice. She tried again, saying the first word that came to mind.

“Um, K-Koi.” She flushed. “My name is Koi.”

Inuyasha’s eyebrows rose into his bangs at the unusual name, but then remembered where they were and figured it was probably an alias. A smart move, even if she had nothing to fear from him. But it was good to get into the habit, so he didn’t call her out on it.

“C-can you tell me your name, please?” she asked and at his perplexed look, her flush deepened and she hastened to explain, “You’re the only person aside from Sen whose shown me any kindness in a very long time. If it’s alright with you, I’d…like to know the name of the man responsible for giving me a good memory amongst all the bad. Please.”

Inuyasha said nothing at first as he studied her. Amber eyes took in her earnest expression, the small, hopeful smile curling her lips, and beautiful midnight eyes gazing at him with such unabashed admiration it made him slightly uncomfortable.

“Sha,” he replied at length, inclining his head. Even if she didn’t recognize him, it probably wouldn’t be a good idea to give out his real identity just to be on the safe side. “And I wouldn’t exactly call it kindness. I was just doing what any sensible man would do, Koi.”

He paused. That had sounded weird, but he…kind of…liked it? What the fuck.

Kagome shrugged, an easy smile on her face, pleased he’d given her his name. “Perhaps, but there aren’t many of those around here, at least in my experience.”

Her smile turned wry as she looked away and Inuyasha felt stupid. Duh. Of course she wouldn’t have met any sensible men. She lived in a motherfucking brothel, for chrissakes.

“Yeah,” he grumbled, grimacing. “I s’pose you’re right.” He didn’t sound too happy about that, either.

<<Prev || Next>>

Chapter Index

[hex6rcist]

can i request a biker jin and a shyer but still badass reader? like they met at a bar and they exchanged numbers and he invites her over to ride his motorcycle around the city?

Ahhh this ask is soooo cute. I’m not 100% happy with this but I hope you enjoy it. <3 Lots of fluffy cuteness ahead. This ended up being kinda long so I threw in a lil read more as to not murder anyone’s dash. 

w/c: 2,600+

Jin slipped into the smoky bar a hand raking through his hair as he looked for a spot. It wasn’t terribly busy for a Friday night but it didn’t look like he’d have the luxury of sitting alone. He eyed up each patron who had an empty seat next to them trying to decide who he’d care to deal with. Finally he decided to sit next to a pretty girl at the end of the bar who seemed more interested in her drink than bothering anyone else. He slipped into the spot next to you silently. You spared him a shy glance tucking a strand of hair behind your ear before returning your gaze to the beer in front of you. Delicate fingers played idly with the tab of your can, further chipping away at your nail polish. Without his mask Jin had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from making any kind of inappropriate comment that floated through his mind to you. Instead he focused on flagging down the bartender and ordering a drink. He didn’t like spending too much time in the bar, preferring to drink alone at his motel, but today had been particularly stressful and he didn’t think he could make it all the way home without losing it. His scar throbbed uncomfortably as if in agreement. He squeezed the bridge of his nose and tried to ease the ache while he waited on his beer. Next to him you shift in your seat to dig thorough your over stuffed messenger bag. Finally you pulled out a small packet that contained 2 aspirin before straightening up. Unsure on how to go about this you simply decided to slide them over next to his free hand just as his drink arrived. Jin glanced between you and the small packet. “Uh, you looked like you could use it...” you explained quietly. Jin couldn’t help but stare at you like an idiot, mouth opening and closing. He wanted to say something, thank you, but what if he said something awful? Finally his hand rested over the packet and he pulled it towards himself. “Thanks. I appreciate-” “I don’t need your drugs, lady!” Jin’s loud outburst drew some looks down their end of the bar. Your whole face flushed with surprise and embarrassment and your eyed dropped back down to your drink. “N-No sorry! I didn’t mean that. I ugh...” He gripped his head, choking back more unwanted words. Today was really not his day. You gripped your can a bit tighter, denting it with your fingers slightly before letting the dents pop back out, a nervous habit. “I-It’s okay. Just caught me off guard.” You still gave him a little smile. Jin couldn’t help but chuckle a little. “Yeah, me too.” “Nothing surprises me.” You quirked an eyebrow and leaned in a little. ‘“You’re kinda weird, dude.” You’d said it like it was just a secret between the two of you but Jin knew that it was obvious to anyone who’d ever met him. He looked down and tore open the little packet to dump the medicine in his hand. “I’m totally normal!” “You’re telling me.” He downed the pills with his beer. “Well, it’s better to be weird than boring.” You took a long drink from your own can before denting the sides in and sliding it to the end of the bar to signal that you were ready for another. Jin finally turned his head to really look at his new companion. He’d realized when he first looked at you from across the room that you were pretty, but up close he thought you were more than that. You were beautiful. He admired the slope of your nose and the tilt of your lips as you smiled at the bartender who’d brought you a new drink. He didn’t realize he’d been staring until your bright e/c eyes locked with his. Jin could feel his cheeks warming and was glad to see your’s were too at least. His eyes darted away from your’s and focused on the motorcycle helmet that had been sitting next to you on the bar. It was worn and covered in stickers, a sure sign that you’d had it for a while. your gaze followed his and you set a hand on top of your helmet. “You uh, you ride at all?”  He nodded, “Yeah I do actually.”

With an easy opening Jin actually found it pretty easy to talk to you. He thought you were sweet and receptive, not at all judgmental about his tic or his ideas. He couldn’t help but feel disappointed when the bar closed and you both had to leave. He hadn’t even realized he had been there that long. You made hours feel like just a few minutes to him. He walked you out to your bike, a V7 III Stone in all black that he though suited you well. Before you got on you tucked your helmet under your arm and reached into your bag to pull out a sharpie. Pulling the cap off with your teeth you mustered all your confidence and tentatively took Jin’s hand in your own to write out your phone number on his palm. He felt like his heart was going to beat right out of his chest. Was this real? You looked up at him through your lashes as you recapped the marker. “Uhm, call me? Ya know, if you want.” “I definitely will.” “Don’t hold your breath.” You were already catching on to his odd little habit so you paid it no mind. With a little wave you got on your bike and rode off, leaving Jin to stare down at his marked palm, heart fluttering.

The next day Jin spent most of the morning pacing around his apartment trying to figure out what to do next. You’d made the first move and now it was his turn to be brave. Jin decided he’d text you, leaving more room for him to convey what he wanted to say without any mess ups. But what the hell did he say? He felt like a teenage boy, agonizing over what to text his crush. Voices bounced around in his head, each one making a worse suggestion than the last. ‘Play it cool, just say what’s up bitch?’ ‘No absolutely not.’ ‘Okay, okay how about we just show her what’s up and send her a dick pic.’ “Ugh! No! Shut up!” Jin threw his phone onto his bed before collapsing on it himself. ‘Maybe we should just call her.’ Finally a good idea. ‘Are you gonna keep quiet?’ ‘I’m a free man! I can say what I want!’ Despite himself Jin picked up his phone and hit the call button. It rang a few times before your voice came on the other end. “Hello?” “Hey, y/n! It’s uh, it’s Jin, from the other night.” “This is a call about your car’s extended warranty don’t hang up!” Jin was inches from slamming his head into a wall but the sound of your cute giggles stopped him from committing. “Hey, I’m glad you called. I-I had fun with you last night.” “We can have fun tonight too.” His hand came up to cover his mouth. God maybe this was a mistake. “I-I mean- What I mean is I was wondering if you’d want to come for a ride with me tonight. I can pick you up and maybe we can get some food?” If only Jin could have seen your smile on the other end, or the way you bounced on the balls of your feet in excitement his heart would have melted. “I’d really like that! I’m free around 6 if that works for you?” “6 is perfect.” “Aw I can’t see you sooner?” Jin bit the inside of his cheek when he heard you huff out another little giggle. “6 it is. I’ll text you my address.” “Sounds good. I’ll see you later then.” He combed his fingers through his hair with a little smile. “See ya later!”

When you were off the phone Jin let out a deep breath. He didn’t know how but he’d pulled it off. He had a date tonight with a beautiful girl he met at the bar. In a rare moment Jin felt really normal. Just a regular guy going on a date. What a life. He had to text Toga about this.

That night Jin made sure to be exactly on time and he’d stopped to get you some flowers along the way, Toga’s suggestion. Jin also knew just the right route to bring you on. It wasn’t so stop and go, it had a nice view of the city and the beach, and at the end it lead right to his favorite food spot. It’d be a perfect ride. He parked his bike out front and anxiously sat outside your door for a few moments before he worked up the courage to knock. When you answered he was once again taken aback by just how damn good you looked. “Hey! I got you these.” He held out the simple bouquet he’d admittedly got from the gas station down the street. You gladly accepted them your cheeks tinting. You really hadn’t expected such a sweet gesture. “You wanna come in for a minute? I just gotta feed my dog and put on my boots, besides I want to get these in water.” You motioned to the flowers before standing aside to let him in. He took slow nervous steps into your home and took off his own boots while you moved to find a vase for your flowers. A task that might not be hard for you he realized as he took in all the little plants that lined your windows. When he walked further into the apartment he was greeted with a cheery bark. He looked over as a large Akita hopped off the couch and ran up to greet him, tail wagging. He reared up on his back paws, front paws finding purchase on Jin’s shoulders. He laughed graciously and scratched the pup behind the ear. The dog’s tongue lolled out before licking Jin’s face. “Kenshin! Down!” You ran into the room to grab your dog, Kenshin, by the collar and pull him down off of Jin. “I’m sorry, he’s super friendly. He just forgets his manners when there’s new people around.” ‘Don’t worry about it, he’s real sweat.” “He’s a beast!” You couldn’t help but let out a loud laugh at that. “He’s both. C’mon boy. Let’s get you dinner.” The large dog bounded after you and into the kitchen skidding to a halt at it’s bowl. Jin watched with a smile as you filled up his bowl with a large serving of dog food and cooed at him to be good while you were gone. As if he thought he couldn’t like you more. Finally you made your way back over to Jin “Sorry about that, thanks for waiting.” “No problem.” “Let’s get this show on the road!”

Jin didn’t often ride with anyone else on his bike so he made a solid effort to be a lot more careful than he’d normally be. Though he struggled not to get distracted (and a little turned on) by your chest pressed against his back and your arms wrapped securely around his waist. And fuck did he love hearing your voice right in his ear. For once it felt like everything was going just right for him. You even reached the beach just in time to watch the sun set over the horizon. He couldn’t imagine a more prefect date than this. But of course Jin’s luck never held out that long. When you arrived at the restaurant Jin was surprised to find them closed, a handwritten sign in the window saying they had a plumbing problem that needed fixing and would be closed for the next few days. “Shit, I’m sorry. I dragged you all the way out here.” “I knew they’d be closed.” He rubbed the back of his neck anxiously. You reached up to take his hand in your own and pull it away from his neck with a little smile. “That’s okay we aren’t too far away from the beach and I think the Yatai over there stay open kinda late. Maybe we can grab some ramen?” Jin let his fingers intertwine with yours. “Yeah that’s a good idea.” You gave his hand a little squeeze and for a moment you thought about leaning up to kiss him but he was already leading you back to his bike and you felt your courage dwindle.

When you arrived at the boardwalk you were both glad to find that the Yatai were still in fact open. You took a seat together and ordered 2 bowls of ramen. Jin couldn’t help but feel relived this was just as affordable as the place he’d been planning to take you. He wasn’t cheap he just didn’t have as much to spend as he used to these days. As you both waited for your food and chatted you found your hand slowly sliding across the counter towards Jin’s, his met you half way and your fingers brushed lightly before twining once again. He ran a calloused pad over your knuckles before raising your hand up, he cautiously glanced around to make sure no one would notice the fairly public display before pressing a light kiss to your knuckles. He took a moment to really appreciate the feeling of your soft skin against his lips, eyes closing before setting your hand back down on the counter. Your face was so red you were almost afraid you’d pass out right there. “Sorry.” “Totally not sorry!” 2 bowls of ramen were placed in front of you before you could even respond. The only sign that anything had happened now was the lingering blush on both of your faces.

Now full of good food you and Jin walked hand and hand out of the small stall and down to the sandy shore, shucking off your boots and socks. Unknowingly you and Jin shared the same thought. ‘I really hope she/he can’t smell my boots right now.’  You shot each other nervous smiles. It was dark now making the late spring air cool and crisp. Jin saw this as the perfect opportunity to wrap his arm securely around you and pull you against his side as you walk down the shore together, just out of the lapping ocean’s icy reach. You gladly nestled into his side, resting your head against his shoulder. “Just for the record, this is probably the best first date I’ve been on.” Your head lolls back a little so you can catch his gaze. “Really?” ‘Of course it is! I’m awesome.” Jin clears his throat, “I uh, I think it’s been pretty good too.” “This is awful.” You quirk an eyebrow at him, “Pretty good huh?” “Yeah, there’s still one thing I want to do before I’d say it’s the best.” He held you still so he could stand before you. Slowly Jin leaned down to catch your lips in a chaste kiss. You smile up at him before throwing your arms around his neck and pulling him in once again. He was a little surprised at how bold you could sometimes be. But if this was what it got him he didn’t mind at all. His arms wrapped tightly around your waist to pull you flush against him while your fingers tanged in the hair at the base of his head. When you two parted it was only to catch your breath. “Yeah now it’s a perfect date.” “It’s been okay I guess.”  

[rushingheadlong]

Love Him From Where You Are - A Maylor Fic

Summary: Five times Roger was sure that Brian didn’t love him, and one time he knew that he did.

Wordcount: ~7,200

Tags/Warnings: H/C, pining, early Queen, some vague allusions to sex but nothing explicit

Notes: Written for @meddows-taylor​ for the LOC Event hosted by @dtfrogertaylor​! I had so much fun working on this fic even if I had to scramble to finish it in time! I hope you still like it (and can forgive any spelling/grammar mistakes I might have missed).

ETA: Now posted to AO3 here.

1968

“He doesn’t swing that way, you know.”

Roger, who had been looking out the window of the small pub where Smile just finished playing a gig, glances over at Tim. The comment came out of nowhere and Roger isn’t feigning confusion when he says, “The fuck are you talking about?”

Tim has his head propped up on one hand, his other tapping against the tabletop. He had left the stage full of energy and riding the high of their show, as they all had, but now he’s quieter and a little withdrawn as he glances out over the room instead of looking directly at Roger. “Brian. He’s not interested in men.”

Roger’s heart leaps into his throat as he suddenly, painfully, is all too aware of what Tim is hinting at. “Still don’t know what you’re talking about,” he lies as he reaches for his drink with a hand that’s not quite as steady as he wants it to be.

“Yeah, I’m sure you don’t,” Tim says dryly. He’s still not really looking at Roger, which the drummer appreciates, because it makes it easier to listen when Tim keeps talking. “I’ve known Brian for a little while now. Four, five years maybe? Long enough that I’ve seen him in plenty of social situations to know where his interests lie. He may be shit at talking to girls, but at least he talks to ‘em. I’ve never, not once, seen him even look twice at a guy.”

“And you’re telling me this because…?”

“Because I don’t want you to get hurt,” Tim says. He finally looks over at Roger and Roger knows that he wasn’t slick enough to keep the look of genuine surprise off his face. Tim smiles at him, a little crookedly but still sincere enough, and adds, “Listen, Rog, whatever - or whoever - you do in your free time, I don’t give a shit. Really couldn’t care less. But you’re a good guy and I don’t want you to get your hopes up chasing something that’s never going to happen.”

Roger takes another sip of his drink and mulls over the bassist’s words. He hasn’t known Tim for very long, all things considered, but Roger can’t think of a single reason why he would lie about this. He doesn’t stand anything to gain from it - Roger has seen Tim go home with plenty of girls since joining Smile to know where he stands - and it’s clear from the tone and secrecy of the conversation that he’s not trying to humiliate Roger either.

That doesn’t stop Roger from being embarrassed, though. He knew that his growing crush on his bandmate wasn’t going to lead anywhere good, but he at least thought that he was hiding it well.

“Does he know?” Roger asks after a moment. He’s dreading Tim’s answer, but if Brian has also picked up on this he’d rather know about it now so he can quit the band and disappear before having to face the humiliation of Brian trying to gently let him down.

Tim laughs outright at the question, which is enough of an answer even before he says, “Mate, you could tell Brian that you fancy him to his face and I still don’t think he’d really understand what you’re saying. Trust me, he doesn’t know anything.”

Roger snorts and mutters, “Yeah, that sounds about right for him,” before draining the rest of his glass.

Part of him wishes that Brian wasn’t so oblivious to social advances from others, because then he could just flirt with the guitarist to figure out if Brian returned his interest - but if what Tim is saying is true and Brian isn’t interested in men at all, then it’s probably for the best that Brian won’t know about Roger’s feelings. At least they’re both spared the embarrassment of it all, that way.

“He-ey!” Brian says loudly as he finally rejoins them at the table with the next round of drinks, which he sets down so roughly that the beer sloshes over the side of the glasses.

“Watch it, May!” Tim says with a laugh as he pushes one of the drinks over to Roger and takes one for himself. “Christ, you’re such a fucking lightweight.”

“Am not,” Brian says with a laugh as he practically falls into the seat next to Roger. His shoulder knocks into Roger’s as Brian reaches for his drink, and Roger prays that his face isn’t as flushed as it feels. “Just had a few shots at the bar, that’s all.”

“And you didn’t bring any back for us?” Roger mock-complains, trying to ignore the way that Brian’s leg is pressed against his own.

“Wasn’t buying them for myself,” Brian says. His voice is slurred from the shots he took - or were given to him - at the bar but his smile is small and pleased, like the cat that stole the cream.

It’s not a look that Roger is used to seeing from Brian, and clearly the alcohol is to thank for it now, but he still finds Brian’s almost-smug expression unbearably attractive. Roger wants to kiss it off his face and lick into Brian’s mouth until he can taste the vodka from those shots himself - but he stops those thoughts before he can let himself get too carried away, and distracts himself with his drink as Tim leers at Brian and asks, “Are you gonna go home with her, then?”

Brian pauses with his own glass halfway to his mouth and looks genuinely confused as he says, “What?”

Tim throws his head back and laughs, loud and raucous, and after a moment Brian falls into a fit of drunken giggling as well. “You really are fucking hopeless, Bri,” Tim says with an exasperated shake of his head.

“Am not,” Brian mumbles. He slouches against Roger, and Roger knows that he should elbow him away… but he doesn’t. Not even when Brian nuzzles against Roger’s shoulder and his hair brushes against Roger’s neck, and Roger has to shift to relieve the growing tightness in his jeans.

Brian is just drunk, he tells himself. This doesn't mean anything.

“Yeah,” Tim says, locking eyes with Roger and giving him a knowing - and slightly pitying - look. “You honestly are.”

1970

Tim leaves the band with very little fanfare, all things considered. They’ve just finished a gig and Brian and Roger are each a few drinks in when Tim hits them with the news. Later, Roger will remember that Tim hadn’t been drinking himself and he’ll wonder if Tim’s unusual sobriety was supposed to be a warning that something was coming - but in the moment, Roger just feels so gobsmacked by the announcement that he’s not thinking much of anything at all.

“You can’t leave,” Brian says, and the response would sound automatic if there wasn’t a hint of panic behind his words. “You can’t- Tim, please.”

“I’m sorry, Brian.” The apology sounds sincere but there’s no remorse in Tim’s eyes as he stands and drains the rest of his drink. “I have to give this a go.”

“Tim,” Brian says as the bassist starts to walk away and then, louder, “Tim!’

Roger’s ears are still ringing with static but he finally finds his voice enough to say, “Brian, let him go.”

“No!” Brian says, shaking his head frantically. “No, we need him, we need to get him back-”

“We can find another singer,” Roger cuts in. Brian’s frantic energy is making Roger’s heart race uncomfortably fast in his chest, but he tries to stay calm enough to reason with his friend. “Another bassist, we can- Brian, we can still make this work without him.”

“We can’t!” Brian snaps, and the frustration and anger in his voice feels like a slap in the face to Roger, even though he knows it’s not directed at him. “For fuck’s sake, I’m only still playing because he was the one who wanted to form a new band!”

Roger feels like someone dumped a bucket of ice water down his spine. “What the hell are you saying?”

Brian downs the rest of his drink and stands up, muttering, “Sorry, Rog, I just- I need some space.”

“Brian, no, c’mon,” Roger tries to reach for Brian’s arm but the guitarist pulls it out of his reach and, without a backwards glance towards Roger, he too walks away.

The night goes a little hazy from there, details lost in a blur of alcohol and self-pity and loneliness. Smile was the best thing going for Roger at the moment and losing the band stings, but the memory of Brian pulling away from him, walking away, leaving him makes Roger’s entire chest ache with a pain that doesn’t go away, no matter how much he drinks.

I need some space, Brian had said, but Roger needs him. He needs Brian at his side, he needs to know that their friendship is going to survive this, he needs to know that things will be alright even if it feels like his world is crumbling around him…

But, apparently, Brian doesn’t need him.

Somehow, Roger makes it home that night. He knows this only because he wakes up on the sofa in the flat he shares with Freddie and recognizes his surroundings in the split-second before the after-effects of the previous night slam into him like a freight train. Roger doesn’t even try to make it to the bathroom, just leans over the side of the sofa and empties the contents of his stomach onto the living room floor.

Or what should be the living room floor. A wastebasket is moved under the line of fire at the last second and a gentle hand brushes Roger’s hair out of his face as he heaves until his stomach aches as much as the pounding in his skull and there are tears and snot dripping down his face.

“Easy, Rog, you’re alright,” a familiar voice says, though it’s not Freddie. Whoever it is wipes a damp washcloth over Roger’s face and helps him lie back down on the sofa, and it’s only then that Roger sees that, for some reason, Brian is the one taking care of him.

“What are you doing here?” he tries to ask, though talking is difficult and it comes out sounding more like Whatru d’ng hrr?

Luckily Brian seems to be able to understand Roger’s slurred words because he smiles, a little uncertainly, and says, “Freddie let me in. I wanted to apologize for running off last night and talk to you about finding a new singer for Smile… but that all can wait until you’re less hungover.”

There are a dozen questions bouncing around Roger’s mind at that, each one only aggravating his headache more until he feels nauseous from the pain all over again, and he settles for mumbling a simple “‘kay” rather than trying to voice any of them.

Brian brushes Roger’s hair out of his face again, and then his hand moves away and he stands up - and Roger whines, reaching out for him like he did last night, only this time he lets slip a quiet, “Stay” that he knows he’ll regret later.

Brian chuckles, though it’s not malicious, and says, “I’m just getting you some water, Rog. I don’t want my friend dying of dehydration on me today.”

Friend.

Right.

That’s what they are, after all. Just friends, no matter that in this moment of miserable vulnerability Roger wants to pretend that they could be more. He wants to pretend that Brian’s gentle touches hold hidden depths, that his familiarity with the tiny flat is because he’s the one who lives here with Roger rather than Freddie, that Brian is taking care of him because he loves him and not because it’s the sort of thing that the kind-hearted bastard would do for any of his friends… but he knows none of that will ever be true.

So while Brian fetches a glass of water Roger shores up his heart, pushes down his useless feelings that have spiraled out of control while he wasn’t paying attention, and tells himself to be thankful that Brian didn’t walk out of his life altogether last night alongside Tim. Brian will only ever be his friend, and getting upset at the truth of that won’t change things - no matter how much he wishes that it could.

1971

The studio is cold. Roger isn’t sure whether it’s just the chill of the London winter permeating through everything, like it does with his flat and the market stall and their practice room at Imperial College, or if the studio managers don’t feel like wasting the money by heating the place during the off-hours, never mind that that’s the only time Queen can record.

Some nights the kettle sees more use than Roger’s drum kit as they spend hours recording Brian’s guitar parts or singing backing vocals until no amount of tea can keep their throats from rasping painfully with every breath of dry, cold air. It’s a long, tiring grind but none of them complain because they all know that this demo will be their chance to finally make it.

(Roger tries not to think about how Smile had recorded demos as well, and how little that meant when Tim got a better offer and walked away. This is different - he knows it is, even if it’s sometimes hard to see that in the early hours of the morning with too little progress to show for a night spent hard at work.)

Freddie sits down next to Roger and slumps tiredly against him, and Roger debates pushing him away for a moment before deciding that he doesn’t have the energy to really care. Besides, Freddie is warm against his side and they’ll all have to get back to recording soon enough, once John returns from wherever he’s disappeared to… and once Chrissie says goodbye to Brian and leaves the studio.

That relationship is new, still in the honeymoon phase, and given what Roger knows of Brian’s schedule he can’t imagine they manage to see much of each other most days. So it makes sense for her to stop by the recording studio in the evenings to catch up with Brian while they all take a break, but Roger hates it.

It’s not even that he hates her. From the few conversations they’ve had, she certainly seems like a nice enough girl and Brian is smitten enough to turn Roger’s stomach. But he still hates seeing the two of them together. He hates the soft smile that Brian gives her. He hates the way she curls up against Brian’s side when they cuddle on the couch. He hates their flirty giggles and Chrissie’s gentle fussing and the kisses they steal when they think no one is watching.

And Roger hates that he can’t stop watching them. He tries, god, he tries to focus on anything else… but his eyes keep drifting back to the couple - no, to Brian.

To Brian’s hands, lingering on her waist, thumbs pushing her shirt up just enough to brush across bare skin. To Brian’s hair, now grown out and starting to curl again, and how he has to push it out of his face before he leans down to kiss her. To Brian’s mouth, his chapped lips and the way his tongue darts out to lick at them, and to the curve of his nose when he nuzzles at her neck, and to his long legs, spread wide so she can sit between them, fitting against Brian like she was meant to be there.

Roger wonders if they would fit together just as well, if it was him in Brian’s arms instead of her. He wonders if John would fondly roll his eyes at them, or if Freddie would crack innuendos between takes when they couldn’t keep their eyes off each other… Roger wonders what it would be like to really be able to look at Brian, to stare openly at him instead of stealing glances out of the corner of his eyes, because Brian would be his and not hers.

The impossibility of it all still stings, but after all these years there’s a familiarity to the pain that Roger can’t let go of, like a sore tooth that he keeps worrying at with his tongue long after the point where he should stop.

“You might want to stop staring at Chrissie all the time, darling, unless you’re looking for a fight with Brian,” Freddie says out of the blue. Roger drags his eyes away from the couple and over to Freddie. The singer’s tone was mild when he spoke but there’s a slight furrow in his brows that belies his true concern.

“Wasn’t staring at her,” Roger says. “Just zoned out.”

“Hmm,” Freddie hums. “You do seem to zone out quite a bit when she’s around, though.”

Roger sighs, and shrugs Freddie off his shoulder. “Piss off, Fred,” he says, though there’s no heat behind it. “I’m not fucking staring at Chrissie, I promise.”

“So it’s just coincidence then?” Freddie challenges. Roger doesn’t bother responding to that and Freddie huffs a little and says, “Fine. But don’t come to me when Brian-” He cuts off with a sharp inhale and Roger knows that his charade is up, even before Freddie says, more tentatively than before, “Rog, are you…?”

“Does it matter?” Roger cuts in, before Freddie can finish the question that Roger doesn’t want to hear. “He has Chrissie now.”

“It seems to matter an awful lot to you,” Freddie says softly. “Did you ever say something to him?”

Roger knows that Freddie isn’t likely to let the subject go now that he’s started it so he steals himself and musters up the energy to confess, “No. There was never any point in saying anything, because I didn’t think he was interested in men.”

There’s a beat of silence before Freddie asks, “Are you quite sure about that, dear?”

Roger closes his eyes and leans his head back against the wall behind him. He feels tired down to his very bones, and it’s not entirely due to the lateness of the hour. “No,” he admits. Tim had seemed certain of that, back at the beginning, but Roger has spent too long watching Brian from afar and he’s not sure of anything anymore. “But even if he is, he’s not interested in me.”

“How can you know that if you never said anything-”

“Because it’s been three years, Fred,” Roger interrupts. “Three years of looking at him, and he’s never once looked back.”

It’s another several moments before Freddie speaks again, and all he offers up is a quiet, “I’m sorry, Rog.”

Roger doesn’t look at him and pretends that he didn’t hear the comment at all - and this time, Freddie lets the conversation drop.

Later, after Chrissie leaves and John wanders back in so they can return to recording, Brian crosses the room and holds a large thermos out to Roger. “Do you want this?” he asks. “It’s coffee, Chrissie brought it in, but if I drink it I won’t get any sleep before my class in the morning.”

Brian has a lopsided half-smile on his face, a little tired but still full of the same fond affection that he’s always shown Roger. It’s nothing like the look he gives to Chrissie, but Roger cherishes it nonetheless because this one at least is his.

“Yeah, sure. Thanks,” Roger says with a small grin of his own, one that manages to stay casual even as his heart skips a beat only because he’s had years to perfect it.

Brian’s smile widens, just a little, just for a moment, before he leaves to grab his guitar. Roger looks down at the thermos in his hands and can see the spot where Brian already took a sip, before he realized it was coffee and not the less-caffeinated tea that he usually prefers at this hour. He stares at it, at that faint mark along the rim, and when he takes a drink he presses his lips over the same spot, letting himself pretend that it could mean something, anything, at all.

And across the room Freddie watches him with sad, knowing eyes that Roger can’t quite bring himself to meet as he starts tapping out the beat to their next song.

1973

They stagger into the hotel late only to find a mistake with their reservations - instead of their usual arrangement of two rooms each with two single beds, the hotel can only give them a queen bed for one of the rooms. They take the keys with no small amount of resignation, and make their way to elevator where they ride up to their floor in silence, the the four of them looking at each other with varying degrees of exhaustion and none of them eager to volunteer to share a bed at the end of a nightmarishly long day of travel and performing.

Brian is the first to relent with a small sigh as he says, “I’ll take the queen room. I’m not tired enough to sleep yet and I’ll probably be up reading for some time anyway.”

It’s a practical suggestion, but one that makes the cards fall into place in the worst arrangement possible. Freddie is starting to come down with a head cold, and needs this chance to get some proper rest before their next gig - but Roger, after sharing so many rooms with John, knows that the bassist can’t sleep if any lights are left on at all.

Roger, the only one who isn’t sick and can fall asleep under almost any conditions, is unfortunately the best choice to share a bed with Brian.

Freddie must realize this too, because his eyes widen slightly and he gives Roger a quick look before opening his mouth to say something - but Roger beats him to the punch and says, “I’ll share with you, Bri. If you don’t mind.”

"I don't mind at all," Brian says with a faint smile.

That seems to settle the matter then, though Freddie keeps giving Roger concerned looks out of the corner of his eye. Ever since finding out about Roger's unrequited crush the singer has done his best to offer up distractions and commiseration when Roger needs it. It’s a gesture that Roger has come to appreciate, but one that’s not always necessary as Roger has gotten better about not letting things bother him like they would have in the past.

He can handle one night in the same bed with Brian. This isn’t going to be a problem for him at all.

Or so he thinks, until Brian unlocks the hotel room and Roger finally sees the situation he’s gotten himself into. Because the room is small, and the bed takes up almost all the available space. One dresser and two side tables round out the furniture, with no chairs or other lamps except those next to the bed. It’s intimately cramped, especially when Brian squeezes past Roger to set his bag down on the far side of the bed.

“Bit of a tight fit, but we’ll make it work, right Rog?” Brian says, with a lopsided smile. Roger can see his canines flash in the dim lights and Roger’s mouth goes dry, and he knows that he is screwed.

“Yeah, of course,” Roger says in a slightly strangled voice. He throws his suitcase down onto his side of the bed and quickly rifles through it, grabbing his shaving kit and a pair of pajamas at random before saying, “Going to shower first, d’you mind?” and fleeing to the bathroom before waiting for Brian’s response.

The thin door separating him from Brian isn’t enough for Roger to calm down. Bit of a tight fit, Brian had said, and Roger’s mind is running in dangerous circles, visions of Brian kneeling behind him, whispering those words in Roger’s ear as he-

“Stop that,” Roger mutters to himself as a he drags a hand down his face. Sharing a bed with Brian is going to be torturous enough without these sorts of thoughts running through Roger’s mind as well, so he steels himself and flicks the water temperature over to be a little colder before stepping inside.

Roger knows he can’t hide in the relative safety of the bathroom forever, but when he finally leaves he keeps his focus on pretending to sort through his luggage and not on how Brian has to brush close by him on his way to the bathroom himself - and then Roger is alone, staring down the bed that seems to be shrinking before his very eyes.

He turns off his light and climbs under the covers, and tries to focus on falling asleep before Brian gets out of the shower, but he doesn’t quite manage it. He’s too consumed by Brian, the sound of him banging an arm against wall of the shower, the faint ditty he hums when the water shuts off and he dries himself off, (the mental image of Brian in the shower, Brian toweling himself off, Brian with wet skin and water dripping off his curls onto Roger’s face as he leans over to kiss him-)

The bathroom door opens and Roger buries his face in his pillow, keeping his eyes closed and pretending to be fast asleep as Brian quietly calls out, “Rog? Are you still awake?”

When Roger stays quiet and doesn’t answer, Brian sighs softly and busies himself digging through his own suitcase for a moment. And then there’s the rustle of bedcovers, and the creak of the mattress as Brian climbs into bed next to Roger, and another small sigh as Brian gets settled into place with his book.

It’s quiet in the room now but Roger still can’t sleep. Brian is so close, close enough that Roger almost thinks he can feel the warmth of his body radiating out under the blankets. Or maybe it’s just Roger that’s flushed all over, heat pooling low in his gut and the rest of him burning up with embarrassment at not being able to rein in his emotions.

It would be so easy to reach for Brian while Roger feigns sleep. To roll over and close the space between their bodies, maybe even brush his arm or shoulder against Brian’s side, because what happens when he’s unconscious can’t be held against him. Except Roger wouldn’t be asleep, of course, and no matter what his heart wants he can’t take something that Brian wouldn’t freely give him if he knew Roger was awake.

So Roger holds himself apart and still and silent, listening to Brian turn the pages of his book, feeling him shift next to him on the bed, and finally hearing him click off his light before settling down to sleep himself. He rolls away from Roger, putting his back to the drummer, and the slight tension on the blankets breaks the dream that anything more than two friends sharing a bed would happen that night.

Roger listens as Brian’s breathing evens out and is replaced by light snoring, and then it’s just Roger left awake as the night creeps towards the early hours of the morning. Brian moves a little in his sleep but he never closes the distance between their two bodies and never rolls back over to face Roger, and Roger stays facing away from him as well. That, at least, is easier than looking at Brian sleeping next to him when Roger knows that this night will never be what he wants it to be.

1975

I’m sorry, Roger. I’m sorry. I can’t.

Roger thinks he might be sick. Or at least he feels like he should be sick because that seems like the right response here, but his body hasn’t quite caught up with that thought and his mind hasn’t entirely caught up with the reality of the situation, which is that he just kissed Brian… and Brian ran away.

Roger doesn’t know what else he expected. He doesn’t even really know why he did it, why today was the day when he decided to throw seven years of friendship out the window, but one moment he was watching Brian laugh in the late afternoon sun and the next his lips were on Brian’s, without any memory of having consciously decided to kiss his best friend.

For a moment, it was perfect. Brian’s lips were soft against his, dry and a little chapped but soft, and when Brian gasped Roger eagerly swallowed it down. Brian’s hands hovered in the air between them, before settling on Roger’s hips - just for a moment, just long enough for Roger’s heart to sing with happiness at finally, finally having everything he’s ever wanted - and then those same hands were pushing Roger away.

“I’m sorry, Roger,” Brian said, because of course he would apologize. Roger always knew that he would let him down gently, after all. “I’m sorry. I can’t.”

And now Roger was alone, having finally ruined his oldest and best friendship, and probably the band as well, and he was so stupid for letting his guard down like that, and-

“Roger? You alright?”

It’s John and he’s giving Roger a look of wary concern, which is fair enough considering the state that Roger must be in. He hasn’t cried, not yet at least, but he can feel tears pricking at the corners of his eyes and he knows his hair must be a mess from the way he’s been pulling it in frustration and anger ever since Brian left.

“I’m fine,” Roger says but his voice cracks halfway through, and when John raises one unimpressed eyebrow Roger admits, “I’m not. I- I kissed Brian.”

Because what’s the point in keeping the secret now that Brian finally knows the horrible truth? Freddie has known for years, and John is bound to find out anyway when Brian leaves the band because he can’t stand being around Roger anymore-

Roger’s stomach lurches and he presses one hand over his mouth, because he doesn’t actually want to be sick now but that is a sickening thought - a life without Brian in it at all can only be bleak and boring, and Roger doesn’t know how he’s going to bear it.

“Oh,” John says, drawing Roger back out of his spiral of dark thoughts. “Is that it then?”

Roger gives John an incredulous look. “Is that it- I just told you I kissed Brian, that’s all you can say?”

John shrugs. “I’m honestly more surprised that you two haven’t kissed before this, if I’m being honest. You know he’s been in love with you for years, right?”

The words cut through Roger like a knife, so sharp and precise that if Roger didn’t know John so well he would think the man was deliberately trying to hurt him as much as possible. Still Roger laughs, though it sounds hollow even to his own ears, and he says, “He’s not. I promise you, he’s not.”

“He is,” John says simply. “I’ve watched the two of you, you know. Always staring at each other when you think the other one isn’t looking-”

“Brian doesn’t look at me, I would have seen-”

“Roger,” John cuts in gently. “Did you ever think that, like you, he didn’t want to be caught?”

Roger’s chest feels tight and his heart is beating painfully fast and he doesn’t know what game John is playing at here, but he can’t handle any more of this conversation. “Brian doesn’t feel like that about me,” he says, because he can’t speak the word love aloud, not now, not after all of this. “He doesn’t. He wouldn’t have run away if he did.”

“Well, did you tell him how you feel?” John asks.

“I told you, I kissed him!” Roger snaps.

“That’s not what I’m asking,” John says. He still sounds as calm as he did at the beginning of the conversation, and Roger almost hates him for being so unruffled when Roger’s entire world is falling to pieces around him. “Did you say something to him? Or did you just kiss him?”

Roger huffs a little and admits, “Well, I kissed him, but-”

“Rog,” John interrupts again. “This is Brian we’re talking about. He probably thought you were looking for a quick shag or something. You need to spell it out for him, not just snog him and hope he knows what you’re feeling.”

Roger opens his mouth to protest again… but then he pauses, and considers what John is saying. Because this isn’t the first time that he’s been told something similar - and he remembers a conversation in a dim pub after a Smile gig so many years ago, the laughter in Tim’s voice when he said, Mate, you could tell Brian that you fancy him to his face and I still don’t think he’d really understand what you’re saying.

He thinks about the years he spent looking at Brian, and those moments when he thought he saw Brian’s eyes wandering over to him that he dismissed as his own overactive imagination. He thinks about the hugs and casual, friendly touches that he couldn’t let himself believe lingered for a moment longer than they should. He thinks about coffees given to him because Brian knew he’d like them, and gentle fingers holding back his hair as he threw up after a night of drinking, and the warmth of Brian leaning against him in a pub or curled up on the other side of a shared bed…

And he lets himself wonder, for the first time, if maybe Brian had been holding himself at bay as much as Roger has been.

Roger has spent seven years scared to let himself hope, telling himself that it was impossible for Brian to return his affections, keeping that part of himself hidden away because he thought it would hurt less that way, even though the sting of heartache has never quite managed to fade. But now that hope is rising in his chest, bubbling up until he has no chance of stopping it - but he doesn’t want to stop it, not now, because god, if John is right about this then maybe… maybe...

“I have to talk to Brian,” Roger says suddenly, because what does he have to lose? Five minutes ago he thought his friendship with Brian was already ruined beyond repair. Coming clean about his feelings now can’t make that any worse, and the possibility that it might make things better is too tempting for even Roger to resist.

“You do,” John agrees with a small grin. “I saw him heading back towards the studio-”

That’s enough for Roger to take off, breaking into a jog after a few steps and then into a quick run, and he pushes through the door to the main studio at Ridge Farm out of breath and more than a little disheveled. He locks eyes with Brian, who’s sitting hunched over on the other side of the room and for a moment Roger almost loses his nerve entirely - but this is a conversation years in the making and it’s far too late to go back now.

Roger takes a deep breath and Brian’s fingers grip the edge of his chair so tightly that his knuckles shine white even in the dim lighting of the studio. “Brian,” Roger says at last. “There’s something I need to tell you.”

1976

Brian isn’t usually an early waker. He’s a night owl, through and through, always staying up into the late hours of the night and waking up long after everyone else has already gotten on with their day. Roger doesn’t mind so much - he likes having the mornings to himself, if he wants that, but he also likes spending long hours dozing next to Brian, wiling away his day until the other man finally starts to stir and Roger can coax him fully awake with gentle kisses and wandering hands.

So Roger is, understandably, a little surprised to wake up early on the morning of their first anniversary to find Brian conspicuously absent from their bed.

He’s a little disgruntled too because he had plans for this anniversary, starting with spoiling Brian with breakfast in bed - something that’s a little difficult to pull off when Brian disappeared while Roger was asleep. He waits for a few minutes, in case Brian just got up to grab a glass of water or take a piss, but when Brian doesn’t return to the bedroom Roger huffs, and gets up to go looking for him.

It’s not hard to find Brian. As soon as Roger opens the bedroom door he’s greeted with the smell of fresh coffee and warm toast… and something decidedly burnt that has Roger peering into the kitchen with no small amount of wariness.

Brian is there, as Roger suspected he would be, with the window open and a smoking pan in the sink and an almost-complete tray of breakfast on their small table. Brian is standing in front of the stove, poking a spatula cautiously at a few strips of bacon, as if he expects them to blow up in his face at any moment - and judging from the charred remains of bacon still sitting in the sink, Roger suspects that might have nearly been what happened the first time around.

Roger could very easily sneak up on Brian, if he wanted to. It’s almost laughably easy to startle Brian when he gets lost in his own head and Roger loves kissing him until he stops grumbling good-natured complaints under his breath, but that’s not what he wants today. So he purposefully makes a bit too much noise as he steps into the kitchen, and Brian turns to greet him with a bright smile.

“Roger! You’re not supposed to be awake yet!” Brian says with a small laugh.

Brian’s smile still takes Roger’s breath away, and his laughter still makes Roger’s heart do flips in his chest. It’s been a year but he almost can’t believe that Brian is looking at him like that, with so much love on his face that Roger doesn’t quite know what to do with it all. To think, that if Roger hadn’t bared his heart to Brian after that near-disastrous kiss at Ridge Farm, they might never have ended up here at all.

“Good morning to you too,” Roger says, just because he knows that will get Brian laughing again - it does, and Roger’s smile only widens at the sound of it. “Why are you awake this early anyway?”

Brian sighs, deflating a little, and turns back to give the bacon another discouraged poke. “I wanted to make you breakfast in bed, but as it turns out I don’t know how to make much besides toast and coffee.”

Roger crosses the small kitchen and wraps an arm around Brian’s waist. The bacon in the pan is soggy and wholly unappetizing but Roger doesn’t comment on that and instead says, “Hey, don’t sell yourself short. You cut up the fruit as well.”

Brian laughs and kisses the top of Roger’s head. “I suppose that’s something, yeah.” He glances down at the pan and sighs again, and asks a bit tentatively, “Any hope of salvaging the bacon?”

“I don’t think so, no,” Roger admits, and reaches out to shut off the burner. “You’re braver than me, though. I wasn’t even going to try to cook you breakfast, I was planning on just running down to the bakery for pastries.”

Brian perks up a little again, a faint smile returning to his face as he asks, “Wait… You were going to-?”

“Give you breakfast in bed as well? Yeah,” Roger tells him. “But someone had to choose today of all days to wake up early and ruin my plans…”

“I’m sorry, Rog,” Brian says with a small laugh and a twinkle in his eye that makes it obvious that he’s not really that sorry about ruining Roger’s plans. “I just wanted to spoil you today. It is our anniversary, you know.”

“Is it? I had no idea,” Roger lies. Brian jabs him in the side with one boney elbow, and Roger yelps and gives him a light shove in response. “Hey! Not fair!”

“Sorry love,” Brian apologizes again, still as playfully insincere as ever.

He leans down to kiss Roger again, but this time Roger tilts his head back and captures his lips with his own so he can kiss Brian properly for the first time that morning. Brian sighs against his mouth and Roger takes a half-step forward, pressing against Brian and letting his hands drop to Brian’s hips, holding him close and deepening the kiss until Brian whimpers faintly against Roger’s mouth and he has to pull back before they get too carried away.

Brian’s lips are kiss-swollen and it makes Roger want to push him against the counter and keep kissing him for the rest of the morning, suck bruises along the column of his throat where they can’t be hidden, so the whole world knows that Brian is his.

“I love you,” he says instead, and he’s said it a thousand times before but he’s never said it like this, on their anniversary, with Brian looking at him like Roger hung his precious stars in the sky and with so much love in his heart that he doesn’t know how to begin to put it all into words.

“I love you too,” Brian says softly, with a smile so tender that it takes Roger’s breath away to see it. “God, Rog, I love you so much. You have made me happier over the last year than anyone else ever has, and I- I don’t know what to say. There’s not enough words in the world to describe what you mean to me.”

Roger lets out a small huff and he’s sure he must look like a love-struck fool but he can’t bring himself to care. Not when it’s Brian, not when he finally has everything he ever wanted and when he finally has Brian in his life like this. “Well you certainly didn’t leave enough words for me to follow up after that speech,” he jokes, and it comes out a bit watery with emotion but he doesn’t care about that either.

Brian laughs softly and takes Roger’s hands in his and says, “I have an idea, then.” And he starts walking backwards, out of the kitchen, gently pulling Roger along with him. “How about I just show you how much you mean to me instead?”

“What about breakfast?” Roger asks, though there’s a grin growing on his face and heat starting to pool in his belly and if Brian tries to backtrack into the kitchen now Roger is pretty sure he’ll just have his way with his boyfriend against the counter anyway.

“It can wait,” Brian says, kicking the bedroom door open and tugging Roger through. “I think there’s been a change of plans for this morning.”

Roger, laughing, pushes Brian down onto the bed and straddles his hips, leaning over him with a wicked smile. “Yeah, you know what? I think you’re right,” he agrees, and he leans down to kiss Brian again.

[kassical]

My dude!! I’ve acquired a laptop!! Do you have any idea how to begin making mods or transferring them to a wii/wii u (my plans involve doing a skyward sword run which I call “maximum casualties” but I want to throw in some mods to make it more interesting and also doingbreath of the wild mods; I have the screenshot from the last question I asked and I’ve looked up Cemu by now but I’d like to get more into this if possible and I hardly know how to use this new laptop cuz it’s my first one like ever kdjdjsn lmao

I thought i ought to include the screenshot also for reference just in case also I’m sorry if this is weird or something I’m not sure cuz I’ve had a bit of A Day(tm) and I hope this at least makes sense lmao

holy shit, congrats on getting a laptop! don’t be afraid to explore it and have a bit of fun. if you haven’t got them already i reccomend getting speccy and ccleaner (partly bc the former will be handy later on w/ cemu). im gonna put the rest of this under the cut bc it is going to get preetttttty long, so brace yourself :^)

Wii hacking:

Okay, first thing is that I have never actually hacked a Wii so I am woefully lacking in knowledge on that, but there are some really good guides such as Wii Guide and this really good thread on GBAtemp.

in terms of mods for Skyward Sword there is a handful but it’s mostly recolours - however if you’re willing to get into another emulator, Dolphin, you can use a wiimote and there are HD texture mods which are pretty sweet

WiiU hacking:

the WiiU hacks guide has been invaluable and is a collab between a bunch of homebrew helpers and staff, and helps you through choosing a custom firmware depending on how you want to approach it.

Along with this, the “Definitive vWii Hacking Guide” has everything laid out, step by step, and is written as though the reader is completely new to it so is imo the easiest to really get stuck in with

Word of warning - hacking your console does run the risk of bricking it.

Cemu + emulating BoTW:

This is the bit i’m most familiar with :^) this is piracy though so i understand if it’s not for you

we want to start with getting the game - this can be done via dumping with hacking your WiiU as above (the legal-ish way), by finding a torrent/download (outdated, not as safe, not legal), or by using the WiiU USB helper (also not legal, less time consuming, safer than torrents)

so i’ll walk you through door number 3 in that case - the WiiU USB Helper. The guide linked there gives you the download for the installer, and also a video as a visual guide. 

This can also be used to transfer games to the WiiU but for now we’re focusing on emulation, which this comes packed with already.

Set an extraction and a download folder using the buttons on the bottom (I just have them both in a folder called WiiU games for ease)

Find the game you want to download and press “add” - with BoTW it will prompt you to download the updates and the dlc as well - and start downloading!

when it’s finished it will be under the header of “Downloaded” - highlight it and it’ll show the details off to the side, where you will find the option to play the game on pc

by hitting that it’ll start the extraction, which automatically makes the game playable on Cemu - the helper does that for you, and may just ask which version you want

after the extraction Cemu should automatically open but if it does you can find the .exe in \”where u put the extraction folder”\DATA\EMULATORS\Cemu\BIN

If for some reason you downloaded an earlier version you can go into the settings and tick the box to look for updates when its booted up

Last thing for this section: to get the best performance I highly recommend BSoD Gaming’s Cemu setup guide! He knows just about all there is to know in regards to this stuff and I use his guides myself even now. This is where the Speccy from the top of this behemoth will come in handy, since you will need to see how many cpu cores you have when he goes through his step-by-step guide. You do this by booting up Speccy and going to CPU on the list to the left, where it will tell you how many cores and threads you have.

Modding, Console and Cemu:

Console:

Thankfully Gamebanana has a decent amount of help in regards to this. It is more complicated to mod the game on console but this guide for installation instructions goes through each way to do it, with example packs too.

There is also the Zeldamods wiki but that can be a bit dense imo

Cemu:

For Cemu, first we need to get the BCML mod loader from the gamebanana page. The latest version, 3.0.0 is mostly stable now and is pretty versatile, just a bit slow.

All you need first is the latest Visual C++ redis which can be found here, as the installer at the bottom of the page has it all packaged in

the setup guide is fairly straightforward, but when you get to the bit where it asks for directories, it can seem confusing, but hover over the entries and it’ll have a brief explanation

when it comes to the update entry it will depend on whether you have an EU or US version, so if it isn’t in the suggested “101c9400", it may be in “101c9500″ (I run EU version)

when they are all ticked green go forward and you will have your empty list in BCML so time to get some mods!

Modding time!:

Back to Gamebanana, it’s where the majority of worthwhile mods are held and there is also a discord and tool if you wish to start creating them yourself, but I suggest playing around first :^)

Find a mod you like, eg the Zelda’s Ballad mod, and read through the page as there are sometimes certain requirements needed, until you get to the downloads

If there is a BCML 1-click install option, go for that. If not, manual download and you can add it to the mod loader using the little plus sign in the bottom right and browsing for the file

On the little pop up on the mod loader, hit install and it’ll start it’s magic by installing and enabling the mod(s)

Now - sometimes mods don’t play too nicely with each other, such as using multiple skins for the same item or character, and some of the overworld building mods can be buggy. Sometimes these can be fine just by restarting Cemu, sometimes you need to go through your modlist and root out the cause.

Another note is that if you look at your graphic packs when you boot up Cemu, under Mods you’ll see a box with BCML. Leave that checked for the most part, and if you want to disable mods I recommend going through the mod loader.

But wait, there’s more:

If you want to go even deeper, there is also Cheat Engine and there has been a cheat table released for BoTW on Cemu which runs alongside the game. This is how I’ve been able to do item replacements, but you can basically make Link go godmode with infinite hearts etc

The cheat table can be found here, and the video on how to add custom values can be found here - but I recommend getting to grips with the other stuff before this as it has more potential to mess up saves.

Phew, good god that’s a long one but if you’ve made it here then I sincerely hope you have a lot of fun. There’s Skyward Sword dungeon mods for Botw and you can get SS Link’s clothes by using the amiibo codes I’ve uploaded here, so go wild! Let me know if you have any issues - a lot can seem complicated but when it works it works really well! 

have a stronk boy for your hard work

[chickensarentcheap]

Sanctuary -Chapter 12

WARNINGS: POSSIBLE TRIGGERS: DOMESTIC ISSUES, ARGUING, ROUGH SEX, DARK TYLER.  NSWF. 18+.

Tagging: @valkyrie-of-the-light, @alievans007, @c-a-v-a-l-r-y, @innerpaperexpertcloud

They sit in silence in the kitchen; guest long gone, Ovi in in his basement apartment, kids fast asleep. A laptop and empty bottles of beer joining various computer print outs, photographs, writing paper and pens that litter the tabletop. The only sounds in the room the soft hum of the of the fridge motor and the slight drip of the tap.

It had been difficult to get through the rest of the evening. Faking smiles, attempting to show interest in the small talk that comes with getting to know someone better, trying to hide the tension that Nik’s text messages had created.  But they’d wanted to make the night pleasant for Ovi; he’d been through too much in the past five years and he deserved some happiness. It was quite obvious that he was crazy about the red head that had spent the evening glued to his side; their hands clasped tightly as they rested on top of the table, a permanent and genuine smile plastered across his face. He hung onto every word she said. She was well spoken and intelligent; she loved the kids and wanted to spend more time with then and she’d been enthralled about Tyler’s stories about growing up in Australia. She was genuine. Sweet. And obviously just as smitten with Ovi as he was with her.

So they had decided to just dig in and grin and bare it. For his sake. Putting on a good show for the new love in his life. Despite the fact everything seemed to be falling apart.

“I don’t know what you want me to say,” Esme says, breaking the silence, running her palms along the side of her wine glass. Was it her fourth? Fifth? Maybe even sixth? She’s lost count. She’s drained the bottle and he only thing that matters at this point is that there’s still a full one chilling in the fridge.  And she isn’t above breaking that one open and polishing it off as well.

“Something,” Tyler responds, leaning back in his chair, legs stretched out in front of him.  “Anything.”

“Oh I don’t think you really want that. Because the things going through my head right now aren’t very nice and we will both end up saying shit we regret. So…” she downs the remains of her drink, frowns at the empty now empty glass, and then pushes her chair away from the table. “…I think I should just keep my mouth shut.”

He watches as she stalks over to the fridge, tosses the door open with enough force to shake the contents inside, snags the bottle of wine and then uses her heel to slam the door. He sits forward, elbows on the table, hands clasped together and his chin resting against them. Normally this would be a sign of a wild night: a drunk Esme truly does make for an uninhibited Esme. And if sex is off the charts amazing while she is sober, it is just otherworldly insane when she’s not. But tonight…well he’s just hoping to get through it in one piece.

“What?” she snaps when she notices him watching her. “What do you want me to say, Tyler?”

“I don’t know,” he admits with a shrug. “I honestly do not know.”

 He’s alarmingly calm. Is it the half a twenty- four case he’s already finished by himself? Or the fact that he owes her this? The epic meltdown that he knows is just on the horizon. Normally he’d fight it; he’d lash out at her for being a raging bitch and it would escalate into a massive blow out in which all kinds of petty shit would get held over each other’s heads and they’d pull out the stupidest and most hurtful crap possible. It happened at least once a year, every year, for the past five. Where something would cause either one of them to just snap and lose their shit.

“How the hell would you even get brought into this?” she fills her glass to the rim before setting the bottle on the table and slipping back into her seat. “Like where do you come into this? How does he even know who you are?”

“You know how big the circle is when it comes to the job. Word gets around. Stories get shared. You build up a rep.”

“And what’s yours? The guy who says ‘fuck my family. I’ll do your dirty work for you’?”

“I don’t deserve that and you know it. I always put you and the kids first. Always.”

“Oh really, Tyler? Really? Because I seem to remember you making the decision to go back to the job all on your own. I distinctly you remember keeping it a secret until the night before you left for Colombia. Do you remember that? Waiting until you got your rocks off to say, ‘oh by the way, baby. I’m going to infiltrate a drug cartel tomorrow. I’ll be back in a week’. Because that is exactly how you handled it.”

Sighing heavily, he runs his hands over his face and leans over to grab another beer from the case resting on the floor beside his chair.

“I was six months pregnant,” she continues. “With twins. And you decided to just run off to some god forsaken shit hole to solve other peoples’ problems.”

“We needed the money,” he attempts to reason with her. “We just got this place. We had Millie and a baby on the way. Two babies. We weren’t going to get by on what I was making doing renos and handyman shit and you knew it. What did you want me to do? Did you want us to  keep living with your parents? Or in some shit motel? Like the one back in Dhaka? Is that what you wanted?”

“I would have lived in a goddamn cardboard box if it meant I was with you. So don’t throw the money shit in my face because it has never been about money. You like doing the job. Why don’t you just admit it? Why don’t you just look me in the eye and tell me the truth about it for once. That you enjoy what you do. That it’s a rush. That you don’t want to let that rush go. And how you never thought you’d be able to do it again and now you feel like you have something to prove. Not just to other people but to yourself.”

He leans back in his chair once again, sipping at his beer.

“You can’t do it, can you. You can’t look me in the eye and tell me that because you hate that part of yourself. You hate that you enjoy it so much. That you actually like killing people.”

“That’s not fucking true and you know it,” he manages to keep his composure. “I kill people because they fucking deserve it. Because it’s either me or them. And I kind of like coming home to my family.”

“But does it really bother you, Tyler?” she challenges. “Do you really lose sleep over it? Do you sit back and think about them after you do it? Give any thought to who they don’t get to go home to? Because if you say you do, you’re a fucking liar.”

He remains silent, picking at the label on the bottle in his hand.

“You can keep bullshitting yourself, but you can’t bullshit me. You went back to the job because you enjoy it. You get a sense of satisfaction out of what you do. It’s karma. You get to go in there and kick the shit out of people and even take their lives and you get a sense of justice out of it. It’s exciting. It’s fulfilling. To be able to take the life from some piece of shit that likes to hurt women and kids. It’s the perfect ending for people like that. And you get to be in control of it.”

“Yep,” he smirks, voice low and steady. “That’s exactly it, Esme. You always have all the answers. You always know exactly what is going on in my head.”

“Oh fuck you, Tyler. This…all this…all this bullshit…is totally on you and you know it. You told me you wouldn’t do this. You promised me.! You swore you wouldn’t take another job for two weeks. That we could have you here…home where you belong..for at least fourteen days before you’d even take a call from Nik. Your kids miss you. I miss you.”

“And what?” his tone sharpens, volume rising. “ I don’t miss you guys? You think this is one sided? That you’re the only miserable one? That I don’t wish every second that I was here with you? With my kids? You have no idea what I go through when I’m away. It’s just all about you. About how lonely you are and how scared you and all this other shit that you dump on me the second I walk through the door.”

“Oh so how I feel about you is shit? Well that’s nice, Tyler. I’m glad to see you give a shit about how I feel about you.”

“That’s not what I meant and you bloody well know it. The second I walk through the door it’s all about you and  what you were going through and how worried you were and how scared you were and I sit there and take it. Because I get it. I do. It’s not easy. And I hate that you’re going through it. But do you ever once ask me what it does to me while I’m away? How much it fucks with my head?”

She blinks at the sincerity in his voice. He’s angry. Irritated. But heartbreakingly real and honest.

“You never do. You never even think about that, do you. You think I’m out there just loving every goddamn second of being away from you and the kids. I’m out there…putting my ass on the line…for people that don’t even know me. And ninety percent of them are ungrateful fucks who don’t even say thank you for nearly getting killed saving someone they love.  Who don’t even stop to think that maybe the guy who just went through hell to get their kid or the spouse back just may have kids and a spouse of his own who would like to see him walk back in the door.”

She taps a fingernail against her glass, eyes riveted on the liquid inside as she considers his words.

“But I’ve always got to the strong one, right? Because that’s why you need. You need me to be the one that holds shit together. You need me to be one  that’s there for you and makes you feel safe and protected and all that shit. I’m the one that has to make up for the fact that your ex was a complete and utter tool that made you feel like garbage.”

“He has nothing to do with this. Why would you…?”

“I have spent five years trying to make up for his mistakes. Five years trying to prove to you that I’m not like him. That I’ll never be like him. I’m sorry he was a dick. I’m sorry that he did the things he did to you. That you lost a baby and he didn’t even give a shit. But I shouldn’t have to spend the rest of my life trying to make up for his mistakes.”

“That’s seriously what you think? That I’m punishing you?”

“I never said that. I never said you were punishing me. I said that I’m the one that is here and I’m the one that is constantly trying to prove to you that I’m not him. When does that stop, huh? When does your hate for him stop and your love for me kick in?”

“You…have…got…to…be…kidding…me,” she spits out every single word.  “Don’t you ever…ever…question how much I love you. How dare you even do that?! How dare you just sit there and accuse me of not loving you.”

“Stop!” he orders. “Stop putting words in my mouth. I did not say that. I don’t doubt that you love me. I know you do. And I know I don’t deserve that. Because I’m a shitty human being whose made shitty choices and…”

“Oh here we go. Tyler and his issues. Tyler and his self loathing.  Not everything is about some decision you made ten years ago when you were married to someone else. You bitch that I make you feel like you have to over compensate because of what my ex did. Yet for five years I’ve been living in this shadow of your ex wife. I get it. What she did was shitty. What she continues to do is shitty. But what you did was equally shitty. If not worse.”

“Just let it out, Esme. Just say what you really feel about me. You’ve been holding it back for what? Almost six years now? Go ahead.”

“I love you, you insufferable bastard! It happened. You made the decision you did and your son died and your ex took off. But I’m here and so are those four babies sleeping upstairs. And you need to let your shit go, Tyler! If not for me, for them. Because they deserve to have a dad who is all in. Not one who seems them as a replacement.”

“Don’t…” he holds his hand up in a plea for her to stop. “…bring them into this. Don’t hold my kids over my head. Don’t be like her.”

“I’m not like her. I’ve never been like her,” she spits. “I will never be like her. Don’t you dare compare me to her. Why can’t you just let me love you? It’s been five…almost six…years of this, Tyler. Of trying to prove to you that I love you. When is it enough?”

“You don’t have to prove anything to me. I know you love me. For fuck sakes…” he takes a massive swallow of beer. “…we’re just going around in bloody circles and repeating the same shit. I know you love me, Esme. And I know…or at least I hope you know…that I love you. More than I ever thought I could love another human being. You know that, right? Tell me know that.”

“Of course I know that,” she quietly concedes. “But…”

“Nothing good comes after that word,” he sighs. “Nothing good ever comes after the word ‘but’.”

“You act like you are the only one that’s ever had to just suck it up and be strong. That’s had to sacrifice their own well being and their own mental health for someone else. I gave up everything for you. Without even knowing where I even stood with you. I was the one that moved half way around the world and gave up my entire life as I knew it. For some guy that could have just told me to fuck off when he opened his eyes.”

“Holy shit,” he gives a wry laugh. “We’re going that far back are we? We’re going right back to Dhaka. Are you serious right now? You really want to open up that can of worms? Because we both know the truth will really come out and some of that shit is going to hurt like hell. Is this really what you want? You want to bring Dhaka into this?”

“Not really,” she admits. “But maybe we need to.”

“Why? So we can just say shit because we’re upset? Because you get off on me hurting your feelings?”

“Just forget it,” she downs the wine in her glass and stands up. “Do what you want, Tyler. I’m done. Help or don’t help this guy. I don’t give a shit.”

“Just sit down.”

“You’re going to do whatever you want anyway. So why take this further.”

“Sit down. We’re not ending it like this. You’re not walking away from this. From me.”

“Just do what you want. I’m tired of this. I’m tired of competing with the fucking job. Make up your own mind. And while you’re at it, why don’t you call Nik and see if she’ll put you up for the night. I’m sure she has a spot in her bed you can fill.”

It’s a low blow. One that kicks him square in the nuts. And first all he can do is watch her stomp through the kitchen. Brain trying to piece together just what the hell had happened. And then words hit home…the implication behind them…and he snaps. Jumping up from the table with enough force to send his chair colliding with the wall behind him. Crossing the kitchen in only three long strides and snagging her by the forearm. He’s much bigger, stronger, and his fingers bite straight to the bone.

“What the fuck, Tyler?!” she rages, when he forces her to turn around and face her. “What is your major malfunction? That hurts!”

“What the hell is wrong with you?!” he roars. “You stoop that fucking low?! You want to push me away that bad that you’d say something like that?! About me and Nik?!”

“So that’s what it takes to get a reaction out of you. For me to say something about your precious Nik.”

“Don’t…don’t do this…don’t go where you’re about to go…”

“Maybe it isn’t your ex wife or the job I’m competing against. Maybe it’s her. Maybe it’s really Nik you’ve wanted all along. You just couldn’t have her. So why not just latch on to her pathetic and needy and desperate friend.”

“That isn’t true and you know it. I’ve never wanted Nik in that way. It was sex. That’s all it was. It never meant a goddamn thing. And I didn’t latch onto you. I fell in love with you.”

“But she wants you. In that way. Don’t lie to me and tell me she doesn’t.”

“It doesn’t matter what she wants! I don’t give a shit what she wants.”

“Have you fucked here while we’ve been married?”

“What?” his grip on her tightens, her arm twisted behind her back.

“Have you? Have you been with her since we’ve been married? Tell me the truth, Tyler. Look me in the eye and tell me the goddamn truth.”

“I haven’t been with her since I met you. I don’t want to be with her.”

“Even now?”

“What does that mean? Even now? What…?”

“You hate me, don’t you. Right this very second.”

“No. I don’t hate you. I could never hate you. I love you. How many times do I have to say it before it gets through your goddamn head?”

“Tell me the truth,” she challenges.

“About what?”

“About Nik.”

“I just fucking told you!” he lets go of her wrist but now reaches for her throat. His chest heaving from anger, eyes dark and intense. And she doesn’t even blink or fight back against those fingers biting into her flesh. “I would never do that you. With Nik. With anyone. Is that really what you think of me? You think that little of me that I’d do something like that? You’re my wife!”

“This remind you of anything Tyler? Five years ago? This exact same thing happening?”

He swallows hard. It’s a hard thing to forget. The first time they’d ever been together. In that dirty Dhaka hotel room. When they’d fought so passionately that it nearly came to blows and he’d snapped; losing all sense of control as his hand wrapped around her neck in the exact same way. The way she just stood there staring up at him with those huge dark eyes begging him to challenge her. To do something. Anything.  And he’d taken her up on it. All common sense flying right out the window.

“You fucked me like you hated me,” she says now.

The words make him shudder and his cock harden. And he knows he should be ashamed for having that kind of reaction.  He knows damn well what’s coming next; it’s in the way her lips curl into a smirk as she looks up at him. And he tells himself that he should just walk away before the words even come out of her mouth.  Reminds himself how much he’s going to hate himself in the morning if he gives in. Just like he’d hated himself five years ago for not stopping it when he should have.

“That’s what you want right now isn’t it Tyler. You want to fuck me like you hate me.”

He shakes his head, but his fingers tighten around her throat even more.

“Do it,” she challenges. “Show me. Show me how much you hate me.”

A growl erupts in his throat and he kisses her, hand still on her neck. Fingers pressing into her flesh as his tongue savagely pushes its way into her mouth and searches for hers. Every nerve ending on fire as she returns the kiss with just as much fervor, her hands sneaking between them and her fingers quickly working at undoing the buttons on his shirt. What should be a simple task turning frustrating from the mix of wine and anger.

“Fuck sakes,” he mutters, breaking the kiss in order to pull off his shirt and toss it aside, the hand that was on her throat moving to the back of neck, a hiss escaping his lips when her nails scrape down the his chest and onto his stomach. Her eyes sparkling as her fingers fall on his belt buckle. “What the hell is wrong with us?” he asks. “Why are we like this?”

“Because we like it,” she replies, as her hands undo his belt.  “Because it’s part of who we are. Part of what makes us so amazing together.”

“It’s fucked up is what it is.”

“Maybe,” she says. “Because it always has been, hasn’t it? Right from the beginning? Do you regret it?”

“I don’t regret a goddamn thing.”

She smiles at that, then slips her hand down the front of his boxers and palms his erection. “Fuck me, Tyler. Like you did five years ago.”

When her hand tightly grips him through the fabric of his boxers, that last shred of resolve finally dissipates. Holding her face in his hands as he kisses her, using his height and strength advantage to push her through the kitchen and out into the dark hallway. Grabbing both of her wrists in one hand and pining them above her head as he pushes her against the wall.  Lips moving to her neck; biting and sucking and licking while she hastily pushes his pants and boxers down his hips and over his ass. Cold fingers a striking contrast to the heat that seems to emanate off his cock as she strokes him; a firm, slow grip that has him bucking his hips against her and a groan rumbling in his chest.

He releases the hold on her wrist and curling an arm around her waist, free hand pushing up the bottom of her dress and bunching it at the small of her back. Lips on her throat when he pushes inside of her one solid, powerful thrust.

“Tyler…fuck!” she cries out, a mix of the sudden penetration and the back of her head colliding with the plaster behind her. Her arms wrapping around his neck and her head falling back as his bites at the soft flesh of her throat, over the marks that his fingers had previously made.

It’s crude and messy. Uncomplicated and unapologetic. Two people using one another for release. Just like it had been almost six years ago in Dhaka. When they’d first discovered that they could help heal one another.

That they could help ease the loneliness and repair some of the brokenness they both felt.

 ****

“Can we talk about this now?” he asks sometime later, as they lay together on the couch in the living room.  Him on his back, her naked body resting between his splayed legs. “Like rational adults?”

She nods, resting her chin on his chest. Her hair a wild mess, eyeliner and mascara smudged. Yet still the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

“I don’t want to fight anymore,” he says, and heaves a weary sigh. “I hate when we fight. I always feel like complete and utter shit afterwards. Like a total asshole.”

“Even after we make up?”

“Even then,” he admits, running a hand over her hair and pressing a kiss to her forehead. “I’m serious, Esme. I don’t want to fight.”

“Neither do I. But I honestly don’t know how rational I can be about this. What am I supposed to say Tyler? What is it you want to hear from me?”

“I want you say that you support me. No matter what.”

“I do. I may not like your decision or agree with it, but I still support you. You should know that. I just don’t  understand how the hell this guy even knows your name.”

“Like I said, the circle when you’re in the game is huge. And word travels fast. Certain guys have reputations. They’re known for certain things. I’m probably known as the guy that fucked over Amir Asif and should have died but somehow miraculously didn’t. The guy who went from certain death to having a smoking hot wife,” he grins down at her, and she pecks his lips.

“But how did he find you? You cover all your bases. You don’t leave paper trails. Any trails for that matter. How would he track you down?”

“Maybe he paid off the right person to get the information he needed. Everyone has a price.”            

“Nik or Yaz? I doubt either of them would do that you. Both of them are crazy loyal to you and they’d never put me or the kids at risk like that.”

“Someone else on the team then. Someone that could easily be bought off. That’s up to Nik to find out. All he needed was an address. It wouldn’t be hard to just go in my file and look that up. Doesn’t matter how locked down things are if someone has the right access.”

“But why you? There’s tons of guys out there that could help. Why you?”

“Because I’m the best.”  It isn’t being cocky. It’s the truth.

“But this is the IRA, Tyler. These people are far more powerful than the Amir Asif’s and the Mahajan Seniors of the world. They’re far more dangerous and they’re far more deadly.”

“Doesn’t mean they can’t be beaten, though.”

“But does it really have to be you that tries? Can’t you just tell Nik no?”

“This isn’t about Nik. This is about him. This Michael McMann. He’s the one that wants to talk to me. The one that wants my help.”

“But why…” she laments, and groans against his chest. “…can’t he walk into someone elses life and steal their husband away? Because I’m getting tired of this shit. I’m tired of it always being my husband,” her hand slips down onto his side, fingertips tracing the tattoo on his rib cage. “Do you really hate being home that much?”

“You know that’s not it in the slightest.  It has nothing to do with not wanting to be home.  But it has everything to with keeping my home and keeping a roof over my children’s heads and food in their bellies.”

“I could also go and get a job. We could pay Ovi to watch the kids.”

“Do you know how long we’d both have to work to get the kind of money one job gives us? It would only take one or two really good paying jobs to pay everything off. And still have tons left over to work with. Anything else I make doing renos and handyman shit would be extra.”

“Your life versus money in the bank? I’d rather you keep your life, thank you.”

“Instead of looking at it fatalistically, look at it realistically. The kind of payouts I could get in just six months. That’s money we wouldn’t be able to make the entire rest of our lives doing normal shit. I have to do what I have to do. For you and the kids.”

“You’re not going to be much use to us if you’re crippled up. Or dead.”

“But you’d have the money.”

She pulls back to look at me. “Please tell me you just did not say what I think you said.”

“It’s true. If something happened, as long as I get the mark out safe and sound, you’d get the money.”

“Oh my God, Tyler. Really? Why would you even say that?”

“Because it’s the truth and you need to know that you’d be okay. Financially speaking. And let’s face it. You’re strong. The strongest person I know. You’d be fine. If it ever came down to it and you had to this all on your own, you’d be able to handle it.”

“And that’s supposed to somehow comfort me? That I’m strong and I’d be able to deal with it?”

“No. But it comforts me,” he says, emotion choking at him, the threat of tears burning his eyes. “Knowing that you’d be okay…that the kids would be okay…makes it easier to accept. That if something does happen to me, I know that you’re strong enough to deal with it and take care of the kids. It makes me feel better knowing that.”

“Baby…” she lays her hand on his cheek and turns his face towards her. “…do you really think about these things?”

“All the time,” he admits. “Every night when I can’t sleep and I just lie there watching you and I worry about how it’ll be you that goes before me and how I know I’d never be able to handle it. That I’d just fucking lose it. I’d never be the same. And then I’d lose the kids too because their dad is a fucking mess and can’t take care of them properly.”

“Tyler…don’t do this…please…don’t do this to yourself.”

“And then when I’m away from home and I can’t sleep and I think about how it much it would suck if I didn’t make it home. How much I’d miss you. But that I know you’d be fine. And the kids would be fine. Because you’re so much stronger than I am. You don’t even realize that, do you? That you’re the strong one.”

She doesn’t respond, propping herself up on her elbow and using gentle fingertips to clear the tears that rests on his cheeks and trickle down the sides of his nose. Then combing her fingers through his hair, she presses her lips to his forehead, each eye, along the bridge of his noise, and then finally his lips.

He kisses her, a hand on the back of her head, pulling her back down into him.

“I have to do this,” he says. “I have to help him.”

She sighs. “I know.”

“It’s his wife. And his kids. I’d want someone to help me if I was in his shoes.”

She sighs and reaches for his hand. Laying her palm against his, smiling at the enormous difference between their hands. His strong and calloused and hers seeming impossibly tiny in comparison.  “At least go into this meeting with an open mind,” she says, as he presses a kiss to the inside of her wrist before entwining their fingers together. “Don’t just go in there and say yes right away. Go and listen to what he has to say and then make up your mind from there. Can you do that for me? Promise me you’ll do that.”

He places his lips against her forehead. “I promise.”

She nestles her face into the space between his cheek and shoulder, tightens the hold on his hand.

Never wanting to let it go.

[5-falsehoods-phonated]

hecc it i request 57 for desleep from the prompt list-

@literally-chex-mix I'm so sorry this took so long. Writers block kicked me hard after asking for requests but I hope you enjoy the Prompt fill, however belated it is! Thank you for sending it, I had a lot of fun writing it!

Coffee Breath at Three

Summary: Kiss Prompt! Kissing, pulling apart just enough to speak before coming back together. Janus wakes up at three in the morning to a very excited fiance.

Ships: DeSleep, Janus x Remy, Deciet x Sleep

Warnings: none, though let me know if I need to add any

WC: 936

Of all the words in the English language, Janus would describe living with Remy...interesting.

They had met in college, both living on the same floor though several rooms away. Exams season was coming up fast and Janus had caught himself unprepared and panicked one morning after tossing and turning for hours before stumbling up like the bumbling insomniac he was and searching around his desk for coffee. He remembered nearly bawling when he realized he had none left, the space on his desk empty next to the small pot he found at a local garage sale, his room mate long since asleep and preventing him from voicing his frustrations as loudly and explicitly as he wanted to.

Remy had opened his door to a baggy eyed, baggy jeaned bag of human garbage and smiled, motioning him in and sitting him down in a cloud of espresso rich caffeine vapor, the others room mate having left already to do god knows what at five in the morning. He was handed a mug of steaming chocolate flavored coffee that had UNT in bold letters next to the curved C shaped handle. Of course they had bonded over the inappropriate cup, and Janus found himself becoming endeared to to fellow insomniac who to this day still made the best cup of coffee, hot or cold, he had ever tasted.

'And I get to have it everyday.' He thought smiling. 'Though three in the morning is early, even for him.'

Throwing back the sheets Janus quickly exited his room, a low humming mixing with the heady scent of roasted coffee beans that in this particular apartment always only meant one thing.

"Remy?" The humming paused for only a moment before picking back up again at a different frequency. Janus smiled as he sat down at the table, watching his boyfriend lightly bounce on the balls of his feet as he measured out the cream and vanilla. Creamer was never bought to stock the fridge, Remy always preferring to mix coffee with spices and extracts, not the Janus was at all adverse to the upgrade.

The coffee was poured into the cups, clear glass allowing the swirl of cream and coffee to mesmerize him momentarily, though it didn't succeed in distracting him from the true beauty before him. Pinning that thought for use as a flirty line he knew would fluster the other later he reached for the glass being slid over go him, smiling softly at the other man currently rocking side to side slightly as he hummed away, drumming lithe fingers on the sides of his own glass.

Janus reached over and held out his hand, watching as Remy took it gratefully. He gave it a squeeze, eyes crinkling into a smile. "Two more days."

"YuP." Popping the p he swallowed down half the glass before looking over to Janus. "Still no regrets?"

Janus bit back a laugh. "As if I could get rid of you if I did!"

"Only in a body bag baby."

"The way you talk sometimes maybe that wouldn't be so bad."

"You dog!" Remy mocked offense and swiped away their glasses, unceremoniously dumping them in the sink for later making Janus wince.

"That's bitch, thank you very much." Cheekily Janus stood and made his way over to the sink, wrapping careful arms around Remy's still vibrating form. Twisting around and grinning the shorter man threw his arms around Janus' neck and pulled him into a chaste kiss before pulling away just enough to rest their foreheads together, coffee breath between them hanging on just this side of gross but niether cared.

"We're getting a house."

Janus held him just a little bit tighter. "We are."

"We could get an actual dog." Remy closed his eyes slightly as Janus' hand found his jaw, thumb gently stroking over his soft cheekbone lovingly.

"And replace you? Never."

Huffing out a laugh, Remy leaned forward to just barely brush their lips again. "That's true, I do need a lot of attention."

"I hadn't noticed." Came the wry response, making Remy giggle again before he was pulled even closer and sunk gratefully into another, deeper kiss, this one prompting him to wrap his fingers in and around the hairs at the back of the others neck, finding happiness in the soft texture. Their apartment was quiet, the early hour meaning the neighbors wouldn't be up yet and leading the illusion that it was just him and Janus, an impenetrable bubble he would be content to never leave.

They parted eventually, somewhat reluctantly as Janus tangled his fingers with his own and tugged him back down the hall, swinging him around so the back of his knees hit the bed and he fell over with an indignant pout.

Janus laughed quietly. "At least try to get back to sleep, we have work in the morning you inso-maniac."

Remy scoffed but reached out anyway. "Clever, but I want cuddles."

With a wicked glint in his eye, Janus took quick strides over to the bed, almost making Remy regret the request until he was swept off the bed bridal style as the mad men spun and hopped in one motion, crashing onto the squeaky box spring with a huff all while holding Remy close to his chest.

"And somehow I'm the maniac." Remy chided tiredly as he snuggled into the warm chest.

"It was calculated. Shut up and go to sleep."

"Sure Jan." Remy yawned, getting one last sass in before his eyes slipped shut to the low rumble of Janus' laugh, content and safe even in a coffee feuled coma.

This work and others are also available on AO3!

[ashintheairlikesnow]

Nate and Bram: Sing

(for the anon who wanted a quick drabble of the first time Bram heard Nate sing...)

CW: dub con kissing, touching - noncon. Um, a game of darts that’s not strictly within regulations...

This is boring," Ashley complained, her arm drawn back behind her. She had her hair pulled back high on her head, and the wiry body, cutoff denim shorts, and red tank top she wore gave her a strangely young look, like the world's most rabid cheerleader.

"You c-c-could always not th-throw darts at me," Nate suggested, trying not to pull at the leather straps that bound his wrists above his head, elbows bent, against the wall. Bandages crackled around his neck - he’d pissed her off a few days ago and the cuts were still healing there, circle after circle layered over the old circles, the old scars, cutting the collar into his neck.

He’d never have to wear a real one, Bram said, because who needed that when he was so obviously already his?

"Oh, but it's so fun when I hit you," Ashley said, laughing. If Bram's true laugh was a hyena's awful cackle, Ashley laughed like a broken mirror of it - similar but shattered, somehow, stepping on a crackle of glass.

She threw the dart, and Nate let out a breath of relief when it buried itself in the wall three inches to the right of his neck.

"You could entertain us a different way," Bram said, sitting on the arm of the couch, a few darts in his hands, too. He wore black jeans and a black tank top, hair pulled back low at the nape of his neck, and every time Nate met his eyes he thought Bram looked like he'd been poured into those jeans, was maybe the sexiest thing he'd ever seen.

Then Bram looked away, and it was gone. He was ashamed of himself for the thought, hated himself for having it, for not being able to not have it. The rage filtered back when Nate was allowed to look away. He remembered himself, then… and what he remembered was horrible.

Sometimes he wished for Bram to look back, because there was nothing he could do with the hate, but the love... the love at least let him pretend for a while that this wasn't Hell on Earth. Some days, he didn’t mind the pretending. 

They had impeccable aim, the both of them, and he knew it - every time a dart buried itself in wood and not in his shoulder, his hip, his leg, it was because they were missing on purpose. And Bram hadn’t actually hit him yet except for a graze across one cheek. 

Ashley, well… Ashley was responsible for the rest of the scratches, the thin lines that trickled blood and ached, throbbed in time with his heartbeat… but by now, this kind of pain was nothing compared to the other pains, the deeper ones.

Bram licked up the blood - and when he did, Nate loved him, because the blue eyes locked right on his. The shifting dark things that swam under Bram's ice-colored eyes had looked at him, but he was a different kind of food.

Then Ashley threw darts at his head, and broke that spell anyway.

“What… what d-do you want me t-t-t… damn it, to d-do?” Nate asked, the softness of his voice a tacit submission, acknowledging that he’d do it, whatever it was. He’d done worse. There was nothing they could come up with by now where he hadn’t already done worse… and probably enjoyed it, in the moment, if he was with Bram.

Bram held up a dart without moving from the couch, aimed it, looked down the line of it right at Nate. Then he paused and dropped his arm again, and Nate let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. “Sing for me.”

“... sing?” Nate pressed his back against the wall, as though he could somehow sink into it and get away from this moment. His heart started to pound, nervously, his eyes dancing from Bram to Ashley and back again.

Ashley curled one lip in thought, then dumped the rest of her darts on the coffee table. “Yeah, okay. I’m bored of this anyway, and we always liked music.”

“Remember dancing around the fires?” Bram asked her, a note of wistful nostalgia in his voice. “They’d play the drums and we’d dance, and dance…”

“Mmmn, I liked the dancing.” Ashley smiled, walking up to Nate, yanking the darts out of the wall from around him. He met her eyes without fear, without hesitation, because Ashley’s eyes were cold, hostile… and empty.

Nothing moved in her, beneath the surface. Nothing to drag him under.

Besides which, he didn’t belong to her, anyway.

“I c-c-can’t sing,” Nate said, a little too quickly. “It wouldn’t b-b-be any g, any good.”

“Ugh. Broken head.” Ashley slapped him, hitting Nate across the face the way you might smack a malfunctioning piece of electronics, stop a CD player from skipping. He took the blow without complaint, head jerking hard to the side and eyes closing, but the sting against his cheek meant nothing to him by now. “Why does he do that now?”

“Fear, I hope,” Bram breathed, with pure ecstasy in his voice. “Come on, baby, we don’t care if you’re good at it. Sing for me.”

“Are you… Are you g-g-going to let m-me down from the wall, Bram?” Nate asked, a little tentatively. He already knew the answer.

“No. Not until we’ve heard your song.” Bram smiled at him, that sweet loving flash of white teeth nearly the same shade as his skin, and Nate took in a breath, trying to remember - from the diaphragm, Nate, from the diaphragm. 

Ashley draped herself across the couch on her back, dirty bare feet up in Bram’s lap, and turned to look at him. They looked so much alike and so little alike at the same time - the same shape to the face, the same cold implacable interest in him, even if Bram’s took a different flavor and Ashley’s seemed more like curiosity as to what his organs would look like if they stopped being inside of him.

“Wh… what song?” Nate asked, softly, curling his hands into fists. “What s-s-song do you want me to sing?”

Bram considered, leaning over with his arms resting over Ashley’s ankles, and Nate met his eyes willingly this time, looked right at him on purpose, and felt himself start to smile. A bit of white-blonde hair slipped loose from Bram’s ponytail and Nate’s hand jerked with an urge to push it back out of his face, tuck it behind one ear, tilt his head for the kiss.

“What s-s-song, Bram?” He asked, and heard the change in his own voice as though from a distance. Softer, sweeter.

The love, at least, made things bearable for a while.

Nate had a plan, but he wasn’t sure it would work, and they’d have to believe he was broken if Bram was ever going to leave him alone with Ashley again. Giving Bram the love would help him learn to trust, and Nate needed him to feel that trust so he could run.

“Anything you want,” Bram said, gesturing magnanimously. “Anything at all, baby.”

Nate nodded, slowly. He didn’t try to sound like he couldn’t sing, he didn’t try to lie and crack his voice. Instead, he took a deep breath, and sang softly, “I hurt myself today, to see if I still feel… I focus on the pain, the only thing that’s real…”

His voice was rough, a little scratchy and hoarse. He hadn’t sung in a long, long time, except occasionally when they were both gone and Nate was left alone with no way to pass the time.

The low bass of his voice began to warm to the words, though, and the roughness smoothed, stopped having that crack around the edges. 

Bram sat back, watching him. Ashley’s eyes narrowed, just the slightest bit, in thought. 

“The, ah…” Shit, it’d been a while since he’d listened to this song, he didn’t get to have music here, really… “S-Sorry… the needle tears a hole, the old familiar sting… try to kill it all away, but I remember everything…”

He swallowed, pitched his voice a little higher, closed his eyes to remember the words better, but when he did that, the love seeped away and the cold hatred took its place; the shame at himself for giving in, giving up, even as he plans and thinks, and plans some more.

The shame at what he had done to keep living, he tried to bury under the hate.

Warmed up by now, his voice is the soft and smooth baritone he’s always gotten attention for, whenever he allowed anyone to hear it. Like when he sang at church as a teenager, like when he sang to himself around the house, like when he sang to boyfriends and watched their eyes light up for him, just for him. 

Singing used to be a gift he could give people  - now it’s just another bit of himself that doesn’t belong to him.

“What have I become? My sweetest friend… everyone I know goes away in the end… and you can have it all, my empire of dirt… I will let you down, I will make you hurt… I wear my crown of sh-shit, on my liar’s chair… full of broken thoughts I cannot repair-”

Bram’s mouth was on his, and Nate lost all his air as the vibration of sound dies in his throat.

“You didn’t tell me you could sing,” Bram said softly, kissing along his cheek and down his neck. “You never told me, I didn’t know that about you, why didn’t I know that about you?”

Nate couldn’t help it; he started to laugh, airy and breathless. “Y-y-you don’t know anything ab, about me,” He whispered back, and Bram kissed him again to stop the words.

Ashley groaned from behind Bram, where she still lays on the couch. “Gross, Brammie. Like kissing a turkey dinner.”

“I love the turkey dinner,” Bram said softly, with perfect sincerity, against the bandages layered over Nate’s neck. “I love the turkey dinner so much. Keep going, Nate. Keep going but just for me this time, okay? Keep going.”

“Can you l-l-let me down from th-the wall, now?” Nate asked softly, and tilted his head for the next kiss, gave another piece of himself away for temporary reprieve.

One day I’m going to walk out of here and I hope you’re both dead when I do it.

“Will you sing the rest of the song for me?” 

Bram’s cold fingers shivered along the inside of Nate’s wrist, just above the place where they’d tied him to the wall. An offer, a trade, a bargain.

Give yourself away, and live a little longer with your mind your own. Or give up, give in, and you don’t have to care any longer.

Nate smiled, turned to look Bram right in the eyes. “Y-Yes. If you let me d-d-down, I’ll sing.”

Bram’s fingers went to undo the buckles, and Nate let himself drown. 

Then, rubbing one wrist with the other hand, he took a breath and started to sing. 

“Beneath the stain of time, the feeling disappears... you are someone else, I am still right here...”

[crayolacrayonhalloweenpacks]

I Think We Have Chemistry

Summary: In which Logan is an indirect matchmaker and Roman uses some truly awful puns to flirt with his lab partner.

Words: 2904

Notes: This was Logince before it was Prinxiety, but eventually I realized how much I love writing platonic bantering Logince, so here we are. This is purely self-indulgent. I know only the basics of chem, so please don't murder me, although if you want to make any corrections that's cool by me.If you want some cool music to jam to after reading this try Dissolve by Absofacto. Thanks for reading!

Read on: Archive of Our Own

Roman loved lab days. If he were someone else, he would probably continue by saying that it was the last class of his day before he was allowed to return home and relax, finally freed from academic burdens. But he was him. So even though he loved science in general, the special thing about lab was it allowed him to actually do something. He enjoyed reading and studying as much as the next guy, but after a while, that could only do so much. Even though it only happened once a week, being able to physically perform an experiment, to work out conclusions for himself and see first-hand how the world worked...well, nothing could compare.

He also looked forward to lab because of his partner. Virgil was a “measure-ten-times-cut-once” kind of guy, and usually that kind of excessive paranoia would irritate Roman, but in this case, he found it almost endearing. Without his researching and proofreading skills, their lab reports wouldn’t be anywhere near the level of accuracy and thoroughness that they were. Something that could be annoying, however, was his lack of reaction to Roman’s attempts at flirting. Case in point: their current conversation.

“...and after that, I learned to always bring a change of clothes for combustion labs,” he finished with a triumphant grin. In the eighth grade, he’d damaged one of his favorite shirts, which read “NEVER TRUST AN ATOM: THEY MAKE UP EVERYTHING”, due to his lack of expertise in using lab equipment. It had been embarrassing at the time, but now it was one of his favorite stories to tell: he, a foolhardy yet earnest student, the victim of an overzealous, malignant Bunsen burner. It usually drew out a hearty guffaw from any crowd, but earned only an alarmed grimace from his lab partner. Jeez. This guy was impossible to impress! He slouched back in his chair, trying to maintain a facade of casualness. “Anyway,” he continued, “what were you saying?”

He felt his brother give him a pointed look from across the room. Roman could hear him already. Don’t waste class time, Roman! Pursue non-academic interests outside of school, Roman! He ignored him. Logan had always been a killjoy. He’d make up lost points on the final.

Virgil peered at the clock and cursed under his breath. “Well, I guess Google exists for a reason,” he quipped, dumping the remains of their half-completed lab down the sink.

Roman laughed, perhaps a little more boisterously than was necessary, and started scrubbing the beaker Virgil handed him. “Yeah, totally.”

The bell rang over the intercom just as they finished cleaning up. “I guess I’ll text you later to work on the report.”

“Sure thing!”

Virgil gave him a quick salute and walked out of the classroom, bookbag draped carefree over one shoulder, gait elegantly loose. His hair was growing out. Chestnut roots emerged in stark contrast to the dye, and one aubergine lock curled like a question mark at the nape of his neck. He watched him disappear into the hallway, eventually becoming indistinguishable from the rest of the sea of students.

He hated thinking that--that Virgil was indistinguishable. Virgil was very distinct. Despite not fitting the classic cool guy mold, he was undeniably cool. Maybe not popular, or athletic, or social, or--okay, he was getting off-track now. Virgil was quiet, but never standoffish. He was true to his word and always held up his end of the work, never slacking off or making excuses. He was precise and grounded and paid attention to the little details. Paired with Roman’s knowledgeability, they were a laboratory dream team. Possibly a dream team outside of lab work as well.

“That’s my chair.” A sharp voice crashed into Roman’s daydreams.

He jerked up, face flaming. Right--the AP chemistry class. “Hello! So it is! Well, I will get out of your way, then!” He scrambled for his books and shoved them into his bookbag. He winced when, in his haste, his lab worksheet crumpled under his textbook, but slung it on his back anyway and pulled out the chair with a flourish. “Sorry about that. Have a pleasant day!” he called to his teacher. Some of the students laughed good-naturedly as he strode out, including the teacher, who turned back to his lesson with a grin on his face. As annoyed as they had been, they still liked him, or at least thought he was decent. Was he not charming, funny, all the things a potential romantic interest ought to be? What was he not getting?

~

“I know you like him, but this is not helping your chemistry grade,” Logan said as soon as Roman got home.

“Were you just standing at the door this whole time?”

“I arrived only a few minutes ago.”

“We take the same route!”

“I walk faster.”

“At least give me an opportunity to sit,” he grouched, but launched into a vent as soon as he dropped his bookbag on the floor, ending the soliloquy with “I’ve tried everything--everything!--and he’s still so…” He sighed, pushing hair away from his face.

“Unresponsive?”

"Yes, exactly! He just nods and goes right back to the class!”

“Perhaps that’s because it’s a class.”

“I know, I know, participation, pay attention, bla bla bla. Jeez, Mom.”

“I’m your brother.”

“Don’t be so literal. My point is, you’d think he’d at least laugh just a little bit. Is that not so much to ask? I told him about the Bunsen burner incident, and he just looked at me like--”

“I’m sorry, the what incident?”

Roman snapped and pointed at Logan. “Exactly like that! Just like I was an--an idiot!” He groaned, draping one arm over his forehead and fanning himself with the other. “What am I doing wrong?”

“Hm.” Logan furrowed his brow thoughtfully, trailing off into silence.

“Don’t just sit there, it’s making me nervous,” he said half-jokingly.

“Well, have you considered that he doesn’t understand?”

“Pardon?”

“I’m saying it’s very much possible that he hasn’t noticed your advances. You may need to stop beating around the bush and be more direct.”

“This is as direct as it gets!”

He raised an eyebrow. “You’ve been making normal conversation. Like how you talk to me--”

“Ew--”

“--so are you certain?”

“Quite--” he started, affronted, then stopped. “Wait.” The inkling of an idea that had just occurred to him started to solidify. Of course! He prided himself on his charisma. Why hadn’t he thought of that before? A little miffed that his ironically aromantic brother had just suggested such an obvious solution, he proclaimed, “Logan, you’re a genius!” and grabbed his bookbag.

“What are you doing?”

“Just a little research, so to speak. Nothing too excessive, but!” He paused for dramatic effect. “Prepare to have your mind blown.”

Logan still looked surprised, but quickly settled into satisfaction. “Fantastic. I’m glad to see your spirits are raised.”

“Talk later, Pocket Bro-tector!” His mind already racing with daydreams, Roman sprinted back to his room, plopped in front of his desk, and flipped his laptop open. He could feel the electricity coursing through it when his fingers hovered over the keyboard, or maybe that was just the adrenaline. Either way, it was thrilling. He typed in a quick search and opened a new Word document to record. This was perfect. What could be more direct than a pickup line?

~

Roman waltzed into lab the next week and snapped up two worksheets from his teacher’s desk. He’d debated putting the plan into action through text over the weekend, but eventually decided it would be more effective in person. So here he was, in person, with a fountain of chemistry puns ready to fall from his mouth at the drop of a hat. There was no way Virgil wouldn’t notice now. Roman seated himself, fingers drumming in anticipation. He was golden.

Virgil walked in a few minutes later, placing last week’s lab report on their teacher’s desk. “What’s up?” he asked.

“Oh, you know. Same soup reheated.” On the other side of the lab, Logan was giving him a questioning look. He grinned back before passing Virgil a worksheet. Their fingers brushed, barely. He swooned.

Virgil’s eyes flew back and forth at lightning speed, scanning the paper. “I’ll grab the equipment if you can get the reactants.”

“Ooh, what are they this time?”

“Copper...some other stuff.”

"Ah! Speaking of copper, are you made of it and tellurium? Because you’re C-U-T-E.”

Across the room, Logan facepalmed.

“O...kay?” he said unsurely. “I’ll just. Get that stuff now.”

Roman turned his back, partially to get the samples, partially to recover. He chewed his lip. Okay. Focus, Roman! You got this! He patted his pocket to reassure himself. He’d printed the compilation of pick-up lines at the library earlier, and it was there if he needed it. Which he wouldn’t, obviously! His natural charm would prevail.

And also, he had the entire thing memorized. He supposed there was that as well.

Roman returned with five Ziploc bags of metal samples. The scale squealed on the tabletop when Virgil slid it over. “Is this everything?” Virgil picked up the manual again.

“Indeed! Let us begin.”

Virgil read over the first page again and frowned. “Hey, you know the periodic table pretty well, right? Which one is eleven?”

See? It’s all working out! “You, because you’re sodium--”

“U?” he frowned. “Isn’t uranium, like, ninety or something?”

“Yes--well, yes, but you see--I, uh--” he stuttered before going abruptly silent.

“What?”

Roman ducked his head, hoping his hair would hide his burning cheeks. “Nothing. Never mind.”

“Uh, sure.” He scratched the back of his neck before holding out a hand. “Hand me the copper?”

~

The bell sounded over the intercom, signifying the end of the period. They had managed to get through the procedure on time, mainly because Roman was too preoccupied with worrying to continue with the pick-up lines. If he wasn’t being as straightforward as possible before, he was now. How was it possible for someone to be so oblivious?

“Same time next week,” Virgil deadpanned, getting up to leave.

Come on, Roman, he scolded himself. The period was ending. This might be the only chance he could get. “Wait!”

“Yeah?” He looked at him expectantly.

Roman cursed the stars. His mind had gone completely blank--so much for memorization--and it wasn’t like he could just pull out the reference sheet right now. “Um.” Very eloquent. Come on, something! “If there was no gravity on Earth, I’d still fall for you,” he blurted.

Virgil stared at him blankly, and without another word, left.

What was that? How had things gotten so bad that he’d resorted to physics? He hadn't even researched that! He was paralyzed. He wanted to dissolve like salt in water, until he was part of the air. He wanted to evaporate and catapult himself out of the troposphere. He snatched up his bookbag and stalked outside to head home.

Logan appeared at his shoulder not long after. “What was that?” he hissed.

He scoffed. “I did what you said. Hypocrite much?”

“When did I say to do--” He performed a series of elaborate, meaningless gestures. “--that?”

“You said to be more direct!”

“I didn’t mean like that!”

“Then what did you mean?”

“I meant a heart-to-heart talk or something!”

“So for me to just--profess my love or something? Are you crazy?”

“Oh, so I’m the crazy one? Copper and tellurium aren’t even particularly reactive!”

“It was a creative liberty!”

“There are no creative liberties in science!”

“There are in the science of seduction!”

Logan huffed. “I’m not even going to validate that with a response.”

“Fine! I didn’t need you to rub it in anyway!”

They were so busy arguing they hadn’t even realized they were already home. Logan’s face softened. “I apologize, Roman. I shouldn’t have behaved so harshly. That was...inconsiderate of me.”

“Jeez, don’t say that. Now I have to apologize, too.”

"Did it really go so badly?”

"At least give me a chance to sit down,” he said, but didn’t even wait this time. “I think he hates me. He didn’t even say anything! Just--left.”

“I doubt that. The worse case is you made things very uncomfortable.”

“Thanks.”

“But even if that’s what happened, you should be able to patch things up and act in a professional manner. If things really aren’t working, you could always request to switch partners, but the school year will be ending soon anyway--” He cut himself off. “I’m not helping, are I.”

“Not in the slightest.”

Logan shuffled his feet. “As a gesture of goodwill and comfort,” he started. “Would you enjoy a hug?”

“Whoa, what? Human contact? From Logan Browne?”

“Well, scientifically speaking, it does release dopamine--”

“C’mere,” he said, throwing his arms around his brother’s shoulders before realizing he had no idea how to hug him. The material of his button-down shirt scratched his neck unpleasantly. He patted Logan on the back stiffly before peeling away.

Logan wrinkled his nose. “That was rather awkward.”

“Only if you make it.”

“Do you feel better?”

Roman paused. “You know what? I think I do.”

“Satisfactory.”

“I’m just glad I won’t have to see him for another week.”

"You can’t avoid him forever,” Logan warned.

“I know,” he muttered.

“Well, when you do have to confront him...I’m more than happy to act as moral support.”

Roman laughed. “That may be the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me, Isaac Nerd-ton.”

He squinted. “How am I more of a nerd than you?”

“The glasses.”

“You have glasses, too--”

“Not anymore!” he declared, pointing to the corner of one eye. “Contacts now. And my eyes have always been better than yours.”

“We have the same prescription!”

“We do not!” he countered, before both of them collapsed in a fit of giggles.

~

“And that’s a wrap, folks! Great job!” Roman’s teacher clapped his hands. “You’re dismissed.”

Thank the stars. Roman had been filled with dread the entirety of lab and the preceding twenty or so hours. It had both relieved and heightened his anxiety when Virgil barely spoke or made eye contact, flushing red and looking away whenever Roman caught his eye. On one hand, he didn’t have to talk about the previous week’s antics, but on the other, the air felt too tense to so much as look at him. Glad that the period was over, he grabbed his bookbag and started towards the door.

He glanced over his shoulder to see where Logan was--he wanted intensely to beat him home for once--only to see Virgil talking to a taller boy who had a wide grin on his face. Roman recognized him as a Patton something-or-other who’d been in his class in eighth grade. They didn’t talk much, but he seemed nice enough. He hadn’t known he and Virgil were friends.

The two of them looked directly at him, Virgil swallowing nervously. Roman wheeled back around, more intent on leaving this time, as Patton laughed brightly. Apparently, he wasn’t so kind. Humiliation boiled in his gut. FIne. Let them laugh at him. He didn’t care. Or, at least, he could pretend he didn’t.

Logan sidled over to him. “He’s coming this way,” he muttered.

“What?”

“He’s walking over,” he repeated.

“I heard you the first time,” he said between gritted teeth, “but what?”

“I don’t know, I just-- Oh, hello. Virgil, is it?” he said coolly.

Roman’s head snapped up. He immediately wished he’d kept looking down.

Virgil stiffened. “Hey.” Behind him, Roman could see Patton giving a thumbs-up so enthusiastic he feared for his hand bones. What was going on?

“How may I help you?” Logan said.

“I, uh. Wanted to talk to Roman, actually.”

“Go ahead.”

“Uh.”

“Whatever you can say in front of Roman, you can say in front of me.”

Virgil scratched the back of his neck, sighed, and faced Roman. “Look, we have lab together, right?”

“Well, yes. We’re here right now.”

“So…” He groaned, burying his face in one hand and muttering something incomprehensible.

Roman frowned. “Pardon?”

“So,” he said, voice still slightly muffled, “I think we…” He sighed. “We have chemistry.”

Roman blinked. His stomach swooped. Was this a joke?

Virgil groaned again. “Sorry, that was just--absolutely terrible. I’m going to--” He pointed at the door.

“No, wait!” Roman grabbed his elbow before he could turn away. “That was.” He searched his brain for a word. “Uh. Thank you,” he finished lamely.

“Oh,” Virgil said. He stood up a little straighter. As if anything about that was remotely straight, Roman thought to himself with a snort. “Uh. I guess I’ll, uh.” He did a quick finger-guns motion.

“Yeah.”

“Cool.” He saluted him and started walking past them.

“Cool,” Roman echoed.

Virgil turned back and gave a hesitant smile. If it weren’t for Logan standing behind to catch him, he would have face-planted on the floor.

Logan waved a hand in front of his face. “Well?”

“Yeah?”

“Are you all set?”

Roman felt dizzy and a little lightheaded, like someone had filled him with helium and released him into an infinite expanse of blue, blue sky. A slow smile spread across his face. “Yeah. I think so.”

~

Virgil did text him, a few hours later.

Virgil (Science) After next lab? Maybe the park or smth

Me See you then

Roman loved lab days.