#the cab is so important to me You Know This but its worth saying anyway ...... ALSO GIVE GRANDPA A GUN 🗣️

[xxplastic-cubexx]

Did someone ask for a tactical grandpa deployment? The Crazy Taxi reference was too powerful to be contained in tags 😌

THE TACT GRANDPA DEPLOY ON THIS TUESDAY MORNING ???

[trainsinanime]

Kato RhB Allegra DCC Conversion

A while ago I promised to write a blog post about the DCC conversion of a Kato RhB Allegra EMU, @wrw47 said they were interested in reading it, and then… I forgot. Sorry. I did make another model railroad post, but maybe it’s time to revisit this. Now, when I did this, I didn���t take proper pictures throughout, so this won’t be a fully detailed tutorial; I’m just going to describe what I did differently.

[Image: Photo of three train red model railroad train cars.]

The Allegra EMU is part of Kato’s line of Swiss narrow gauge models (specifically RhB, known for the Glacier and Bernina Express) that they seem to have built primarily for Japanese tourists that visited Switzerland and want something to remember their trip when they come home. Kato is perfectly happy to sell them in Europe as well, they come with both English and German texts on the box and instructions as well as Japanese (funnily enough the german translation, done by german importer Noch, is considerably better than the english translation, done by Kato themselves), but their Japanese design heritage is very obvious in many respects.

For example, they are built in 1:150 scale (slightly larger than normal gauge rolling stock, which is 1:160 if it’s not British), and roll on 9 mm normal N scale tracks. That is how the cape gauge trains in Japan are all built. In Europe, the standard procedure would be instead to build them at 1:160 scale and have them run on 6.5 mm Z scale tracks. And also super expensive and nobody buys them. The Kato approach makes the trains slightly too large when placed next to normal gauge trains, and the proportions of the tracks to the train are completely wrong… but you can run them on the tracks you already have, which is amazing. Despite some people in forums complaining, the whole thing has been a huge success here, and a number of companies have even decided to copy the concept.

The Challenge

The other big thing that is notably Japanese is DCC installation. It seems that Japanese model railroaders don’t do DCC a lot, and so models for Japan are usually either badly prepared for DCC installation, or not at all.

The Allegra is one of the worst offenders here; very difficult DCC installation in a model that is very relevant to European interests. There are tutorials (all in german that I could find), e.g. here or here, but they are incredibly long and very annoying. You will have to do most of these steps, sorry. But there are some tricks that can short-circuit some of them. It’s still a thing that requires good soldering skills, though.

First of all, the train consists of three cars. If you don’t install interior lighting or don’t care if the interior lighting is on all the time, then you will need to install DCC in the motor car and the unpowered end car to control its headlights.

Cab Car

For the unpowered car, there is a very simple trick: A Kato FL12 light decoder. It doesn’t say so in the instructions or really anywhere, but Kato does reuse components and designs all the times, so the FL12 decoder that they sell will just fit under the lighting board here and do it’s job as well as in any other Kato cab car.

Note that I didn’t say it will do its job well or easily. The FL12 is a fickle beast, and the contact with both the copper strips underneath and the lighting board above is a matter of hope more than anything. Try bending the copper strips so they point up more and exert more force, that worked for me. For what it’s worth, I think the Zimo MX605SL should work just as well, since its form factor is a copy of the FL 12 designed to fit into models that use the FL 12; but since the FL 12’s main problem is contact due to the form factor, I don’t think the MX605SL will make anything easier. Soldering a normal function decoder in may actually be easier, especially since you’ll need to know how to solder anyway for what comes next.

Motor Car

For the motor car, installing DCC for the motor is annoying but straightforward. You will need to dismantle the entire car and take the two halves of the zinc frame apart, as the instructions say. Then use some Kapton tape (I used stuff I had over from some Digitrax decoders, but then I just bought a roll of the stuff) to insulate the motor from the frame. The tutorials I found suggest removing parts of the frame as well. I didn’t find that necessary if you have enough insulating tape, but I did break off the tab on the lower side to make an easier path for the cable there. Remember the orange wire goes to the contact that touches the right-hand-side of the frame in direction of travel. (Remember, orange is essentially light red, red and black go the track, rrrred goes to the rrrright)

The real trick here is the lighting board.

[Image: Photo of a small circuit board, rectangular with two prongs that come out.]

The lighting board, as designed, is tiny and connected directly to the tracks via the two prongs, which stick in the cast zinc frame. To make it DCC compatible requires extensive drilling, desoldering and resoldering. It’s insane. Really, the only half-way reasonable way to do this is with a replacement lighting board that’s DCC compatible. But isn’t it insanely difficult and expensive to build one of those, something that’s not realistically possible at all?

Turns out nope, that’s just a thing you can do. The software is free (I’ve used Eagle), the learning is annoying, but when you’re done you can just send the file to one of many companies that will just make the circuit board for you. I used JLCPCB because they could build the circuit board in the required 0.6mm thickness, and they were cheap - about twenty euros with slightly faster shipping for five circuit boards (they don’t do fewer than that). Here’s the result:

[Picture: A plastic bag with five circuit boards, same form factor as before, but now green and without any components.]

If you want to copy this and don’t want to design the thing yourself, I’ve put the files on Github. License: CC-BY-SA, please link back to this post if you share this with anyone. If you want to use this unmodified, just use the included ZIP file and upload it to your favourite PCB maker service, they’ll know what to do with it. Just make sure they can do 0.6mm thick PCBs. The other files are only relevant if you want to make changes.

As I mentioned before, I used JLCPCB and was happy with the result. I used green color because it’s the cheapest option. Black might be better to protect against light leakage, but it’s super expensive. You could also use gold plated contacts, like Kato did, but again, that costs money. I did use the “remove order number” option because there is no space for the order number on this thing.

If you prefer designing your own board from scratch, the measurements are 8.8mm long overall and 7.7mm wide; the tabs are 4.4 mm long and 1.5mm wide. The front of the LED was about 0.3mm from the start of the circuit board in the original.

I used 0805 SMD resistors (top and bottom), 1 kOhm and that was still too bright. For the LEDs, I used type 215 side emitting LEDs from AliExpress; you can get these from various sellers there, and always way more than you need. Both LEDs need to be white; the lights for this train aren’t white/red, but rather three white lights in front and one white light in the rear (to mark the end of the locomotive part of the train, which is legally required in Switzerland, for some reason). You can try with other side emitting LEDs if you feel lucky, just make sure the polarity matches. I blackened the edges of the board with some paint first to prevent light leakage, but still ended up getting some.

Even with this, this is all still going to be very fiddly and kind of annoying. It is far easier to solder a total of four components and four wires to a tiny circuit board that has dedicated spaces for them, than to try and modify an existing one. But this is not a ten-minutes project.

The assembly works like this:

[Image: Drawing of the circuit board, with various annotations that are repeated in the paragraph below.]

The wires get soldered to the round contacts. The rear two contacts on each side are for the resistor, the front two ones are for the LED. The side that says “Allegra” is down, the side with the round contacts is up. The rear is the side with the prongs, the front is the flat side.

The front right contact goes to the top LED, which is the one for the rear light; that’s the yellow cable on any good decoder. The front left contact is the same for the bottom LED, which gets the white cable since it’s the front lights. The two rear round points are there so you can solder the power pickup wires (red for right, black for left) to them, which I found more convenient than soldering to the copper rails. Your choice. There is no contact for the blue “+” wire, I’m using a return directly to the tracks here.

The points for soldering your cables to are tiny, by design, because I didn’t have a lot of space to work with and I felt confident in my soldering abilities. My approach was:

Place a droplet of solder on the test point

Remove a very short section of insulation from the cable of the decoder (you can shorten the decoder cables - shorter cables give a neater resulting interior but are more annoying to work with. I left them at full length, and now I kind of regret that. I am thinking about going back and fixing that, but so far I’ve been too lazy.)

Drill corresponding holes through the blue plastic interior parts. I used a 1mm drill, and I guessed the correct positions.

Put the cables through the hole

Melt the solder droplet and hold the end of the cable into it, from above.

This worked fine for me, but if you’re a novice, you may want to redesign this board with larger soldering points (maybe get rid of the DCC power ones to make space). If you want, you can also redesign it with a connection to the blue “+” wire instead.

Here’s the test installation, with the long wires:

[Image: The chassis of the train is on the tracks; a blue plastic piece is lying next to it, and next to that a tiny circuit board with lots of components. Six cables go from the circuit board through the plastic piece to the chassis. A bright light can be seen in the middle of the chassis.]

[Image: One of the EMU end cars standing on a model railroad track, with the lights on.]

With these circuit boards, the end result runs well and has proper light features. Any DCC decoder will do, even one of those crazy gigantic Digitrax ones.

So, to sum up, my two secrets for making the installation of DCC in the Kato RhB Allegra EMU not easy, but bearable, are:

Use the FL12 (but really it’s not that big a deal if you don’t)

Designing your own replacement circuit board is possible and surprisingly easy and cheap

It’s still one of the most annoying model railroad trains with a prototype from Europe that I’ve seen in the past ten years at least, but with these things, it’s reasonably possible.

[frostedfaves]

I Don’t Feel Alive (4)

Masterlist

Pairings: Jake Peralta x sister!reader (platonic), Rosa Diaz x fem!reader (romantic), Jake Peralta x Amy Santiago (also romantic)

Summary: Jake shows up for your big moment and you’re there to comfort him for his.

Warnings: drug mentions and use, anxious reader, a bit of angst

A/N: so sorry for the wait on this part, but I hope it was worth it! I did a time jump because I needed to move forward a bit, not only for the sake of the addiction part of the storyline, but also because I need to introduce Rosa and Amy soon. anyway, lemme know what you think!!

Previous part

-

To say you were nervous was an understatement. You were about to host your very first art show featuring your own paintings, something that you’d wanted for a long time, but you didn’t expect it to feel this overwhelming when you finally got it.

“Hey, there’s my celebrity sister!”

You turned away from the mirror at the sound of the familiar voice, a relieved smile falling onto your features at the sight of Jake coming toward you.

“You came,” you breathed out as his arms enveloped your frame.

“Of course! I’d never miss this.” He pulled away from the hug and grabbed your hands with a grin. “So how does it feel?”

“Oh, it’s the worst! My head is spinning, and I can’t feel my feet anymore. Not to mention the heavy weight on my chest reminding me that this is all I’ve ever wanted since I realized that art is the one thing in my life that consistently made me happy and if I mess this up I could ruin my chances at a career--”

“Okay, okay.” His thumbs lightly rubbed across the back of your now shaking hands. “Before we go out there, why don’t we just take a moment to breathe?”

You nodded in acceptance of the idea, and he led you through a few cycles of inhaling and exhaling. By the sixth cycle your mind felt a bit quieter, and the knots in your stomach seemed to loosen.

“Feeling better?”

“Much better, thank you.” You leaned forward to sink into his hold again, smiling when his hands began to rub your back.

“You’re not going to mess anything up, by the way. You’ve already impressed so many people with your art, and when they realize how awesome of a person you are, they’re going to love you even more!”

“I hope you’re right, Pineapples.” A heavy sigh escaped you. “God, I wish Grandma was here to see this. How’s living at her apartment, by the way?”

“Weird, but it feels right at home at the same time. You’re welcome to visit anytime, you know, when you get a break from being a famous artist,” he teased you and you laughed, poking him a bit.

“Whatever. I guess I should stop by one day. And now that I can legally drink, I can visit that bar you like so much and meet your detective friends.”

“Oh yeah!” He pulled away quickly and you met his eyes that somehow seemed even brighter than before. “You have to meet my friend from the academy! She’s super scary at first and she doesn’t talk about her life so everything I know about her is purely based on observation but she’s great!”

“Sounds like someone I might like to know,” you told him with a chuckle. “Is she the detective that just transferred?”

“No, that’s Amy.”

“In love with her already, huh?”

“Wh-what?! Don’t be ridiculous. Yeah she’s intelligent, gorgeous, and an insanely great detective but it just wouldn’t work. We’re too different.”

Before you could tease him further about his instant “heart eyes”, an announcement came over the PA system that reminded you the art show was starting soon. You suddenly wished you could fast forward through the night, which Jake instantly picked up on and offered you a reassuring smile.

“Everything’s going to be fine, Little Carrot. I’m willing to bet all of my money on it!”

“You’re in crushing debt. That doesn’t make me feel better.”

“Damn, you’re right. Well, see you soon!” He dropped a big and obnoxious kiss on your forehead before scurrying out of the room.

-

“For a first timer, this was incredibly successful, Y/N!”

“Thanks, Ken!” You smiled gratefully at the guy who helped you pull everything together as he approached you. “I can’t believe how many pieces I sold tonight!”

“I can believe it. You’re talented, and the world is finally getting to see it. Speaking of the world…” He grabbed your shoulders and turned you until your line of vision focused on a man on the phone in one of the doorways. “That well-dressed and extremely successful guy wants to hire you for a project and I would recommend accepting because he has connections to help you with your Paris goal.”

Your eyes widened at this, and you turned back to Ken. “Wait, seriously?! What are we waiting for?! Let’s go over there!”

After finding out the details of the project and gratefully accepting the job, you made your way to the back room to make sure you weren’t leaving anything important behind, briefly remembering your spiraling moment and feeling thankful that you were able to move past it. You were just about to turn off the lights and leave when the door opened and Erica entered.

“Congrats on tonight, N/N! I’m so proud of you.”

“Thanks, E.” You hugged her with a wide smile. “Have you been here the whole time?”

“Yeah. I would’ve approached you earlier but you were either talking to buyers or with your mom and detective brother, and I didn’t want to get too close with this.” She pulled out a little baggie holding a joint, bringing it into your line of vision. “Wanna celebrate properly?”

“Damn, I wish I’d had that earlier. But yeah, just give me a second to text Jake and then I’ll be ready.”

She left the room as you pulled out your phone, sighing when you saw Jake’s text wondering if you were coming down to Shaw’s. After wrestling with your conscience a bit, you ultimately decided to stick with your original plan. Today was super successful but incredibly draining, and you needed to wind down properly.

I’m pretty tired so I’m going to head home but maybe we can meet tomorrow so I can tell you about my new job! Thanks for coming tonight and I love you.

-

It was just a regular night for you, sitting in your apartment and painting whatever came to mind while music played softly in the background. You were so lost in your atmosphere that if your phone had been on vibrate, you wouldn’t have noticed the text from Jake come in.

need you to come to the precinct asap

You were on your feet in no time, sliding on shoes and grabbing a hoodie on your way out the door, pulling your arms into it and zipping it as you waited for your cab. Within minutes you were arriving at the 99th precinct, getting out of the car and approaching the building as Jake walked away from a brunette woman while holding a box.

“Thanks for coming,” he greeted you while placing the box on the ground to hug you, pulling away to start typing something on his phone. “I just got fired and I really needed to see you.” He turned his phone to you and you read the screen.

its part of a plan for me to go undercover in the mafia for the fbi. could be gone for six months.

Tears instantly filled your eyes as you took in the message. Jake always made being a detective sound so fun that you forgot there were real dangers tied to his line of work. He’d be working among people that could kill him quickly or torture him slowly with one wrong move, and the thought made you feel sick. Not wanting to worry him further, you grabbed his phone and typed a response.

please be careful.

You hugged him after he read the words, both of you holding each other tightly as if you thought the world would collapse when you let go. You were quick to wipe away any escaped tears, smiling at him when you pulled away and gripping his hands in the same way he does to calm you down.

“I know it seems like it now, but this isn’t the end. You’re going to find something that makes you happy, and be just as good at that.”

“I hope so.” He squeezed your hands before pulling away to pick up the box again. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to drop this off at home and go drink away the sadness!”

He left you with one of his signature goofy grins, and you worked hard to burn the image into your memory, hoping it’ll last until you see it again six months later. Before you could decide what to do with yourself, your phone rang and you sat on the nearest bench as you answered.

“Y/N, hi! You don’t know me yet but I’m hoping we can change that soon! Tony Palmer here, and I saw your work on the HST project. Just wondering if you would be interested in spending a few months in Paris?”

“Absolutely I am,” you managed to answer, once the shock wore off a bit.

“Awesome! We can talk more about it in my office tomorrow.”

You saved his information in your phone, immediately heading over to your text thread with Erica when the call ended because you were curious about whether she knew any dealers in France. You weren’t sure you could handle being sober while worrying about Jake and living alone six time zones away for half a year.

-

Tags: @beeblisss @marie-03 @gaulty74 @xetherealbeautyx @makapaka11 @rosadiazswifey @ochrythum @halfofwhatisayismeaningless @hip-hopphile

[willowistic22]

New jomike hc au!post college

I came up with this au in my head for awhile now some hc’s regarding this new au on a whim bcs i wanted to tell my friends abt it on a discord server. I thought it’s time it sees the light of day bcs i simply cannot keep it in me anymore. Also this is kind of inspired by the song Dorothea - Taylor Swift. 

Everyone is graduating so que the sappy goodbyes as they’re all gonna be scattered not just all around the us but also all around the world

The couples made a truce whether to do long distance or they share the same dreams so they do it together

But mike and jojo didn’t make things work in the end so they broke up before graduation but still went to prom together

y’know those kinds of high school hearthache

Bcs Mike stayed in new york but jojo flew away (like england or sumn idk) 

To some fancy elite school bcs he’s smart yknow

He wanted to from the start but he’s always been a bit torned bcs he knew from the start of the relationship mike was the one (call it stupid young love or whatever you want, i call it destiny:))

And mike never wanted to hold him down so he was the one that proposed the idea to him

For the most part it worked out

Jojo flew away to chase his dreams

Mike stayed and did the same thing

Both of them only kinda sorta moved on. Met new people but never fully stopped thinking abt the other. Wishing the other was by their side right now

And so they’ve gotten their degrees and gotten their dream jobs

Mike is a coder working in a video game company while jojo is in social media marketing after finishing business school (or whatever major required for that job field idk)

And they kinda hv their life together. Jojo living on his own in a studio apartment with a cat called Dorothea (see what i did there:)) money doesn’t concern him all that much bcs the job pays nicely and he’s good at handling his finances 

Mike lives alongside with his brother ike in a nice apartment too. He manages to get a position that allows him to work flexibly at home yknow. He also has a new kitten he saved from the streets named Honey (bcs his fur is orange like honey) and since his older cat had died of old age

But mike lives with ike who also lives with hotshot. So he’s like always the third wheel. Even worse when ike and hotshot are hving the occasional double date with race and spot. Mike feels even more worse at those time

Decides to hide away in his room or go out with the excuse being work

And its even worse remembering he used to go on double dates with ike and hotshot when him and jojo were still a thing

So ike is like ‘yknow what? I hv enough of this shit’ and hv one good brother to brother talk

‘Dude. It’s been years already. How are you not over him?’

‘Bcs he’s jojo...’

‘Ok? So why don’t you call him?’

It’s not like mike has never thought of calling him. Very much possible. They still follow each other’s social media’s so if his old number had changed he cld always just ask from a simple dm since mike knows jojo is still active in his social media accs

But mike is like ‘i can’t. He cld be taken for all i know. Even if he weren’t, he seems to be doing fine on his own’

‘You can’t really get to know a person through instagram posts. Remember how you tried that the first time you wanted to ask him out? You thought he didn’t like guys and yet still went on a date with you anyways’

That was a real slap in the face type of sentence yknow so mike is working up a lot of courage and planned a lot on what he’s gonna do

He first wanted to message jojo. Seeing if it’s still okay to call and all. But he cldn’t figure out what to say so he procrastinated on that part

Ike got sick of it so he took the phone from mike and messaged ‘can we call? I miss you’

Mike was hovering in between i will murder you or thank you @ ike

Either way jojo texts back with his new number. It’s gonna add up on his usual phone bill but he thinks it’s worth it.

Ok so they talked for like soooo long

7?8?hours?

Basically the whole night for mike

It felt like high school all over again

They were just catching up with each other and talking abt absolute bullshit at the same time

Till they got to the point where they mentioned how they’re both single and the air kinda shifts

Deep down mike and jojo knows what this means

As far as jojo is concerned, mike was the one that messaged him that he misses him

It’s easy now for mike to word out come home without indirectly saying it out loud in case that’s not what jojo wants

Bcs after that catching up, he knows that as much as it’s a dream for jojo to work at a big well known fashion brand (he’s pretty fashionable lmao) and get free products that are usually hella expensive from the brand, he hates everyone he works with. Real snobs and ruthless when it comes to getting a higher position

The other things abt his new life is pretty interesting and he loves it. But he admits there’s always been something missing and mike so badly wants to be that something missing in jojo’s new life

So it comes out straight forward. Not like how mike had planned, but it works in the end. ‘Come home’

And jojo does exactly that. He agrees to come home for the weekend. He books a ticket to new york then back with only a carry on duffle bag filled with a few assortments of clothing and booked it out after telling dorothea he won’t be long.

He rushes to the airport bcs he kinda booked the flight that leaves for new york as soon as possible. Perhaps deep down jojo really does know what he’s been missing in his life?

He lands in new york on a friday night new york time

Mike tells him not to worry abt what he’s wearing bcs he just wants to meet jojo at a central park bench that has long became an important spot for them

Jojo insisted on meeting as soon as he lands which is tonight. So the whole time he’s in the cab, he’s like soooo shaky and nervous it kinda drove the cab driver anxious as well. Bcs like jojo’s not talking and didn’t like say anything abt why he’s going to central park this late at night and not to some fancy hotel as most travelers wld do when they first arrive at new york

The moment the cab stops, jojo basically threw him a wad of cash. Probably too much than the actual price of the ride but he just called out from the back of his shoulder saying it’s a huge tip. Secretly, he’s thanking the cab driver for not asking him why he’s in new york and why central park at this time. It’d most likely make him even more nervous

He’s running on the path. He doesn’t reach full speed bcs his duffle bag is weighing him down. He doesn’t even know why he’s going so fast. It’s not like mike has anything else planned

Picture jojo frantically looking around the area like he’s a lost little boy in the dark. Barely seeing anyone else in ten vicinity, so any figure out at this ungodly time rn cld only mean is mike.

But he’s growing worried bcs it doesn’t seem like he’s around

Until ofc ‘jojo!’

Jojo whips his head around and sees Mike walking up to the bench from a different direction

They didn’t really do anythign at the start. They just stared at each other while standing in the dark approximately 10 feet apart. Jojo waits for a sign from mike to do anything else, though mike was doing the same thing for jojo

Until mike decides to break the 1 minute long silence ‘jojo-‘

But he didn’t continue bcs jojo was already running up to him the moment his mouth moves and tackles him into the tightest hug ever

His duffle bag was dropped halfway from the run so there was no holding back. The hug very much pushed mike’s soul out of his figure as much as it did to his body

Thankfully, mike hugged back just as tight. If not, it was a sign for jojo that it wasn’t okay to go in for a hug just yet and he wld pull back really quick

In time, jojo did end up pulling back to look at mike’s face up close and whisper ‘i still love you’

Which is really out of nature for jojo bcs he’s never really known to be the risk taker between the two

And mike was so happy at that moment that he just pulls jojo in for a kiss.

And that folks, is how they got back together:)

So everyone has agreed that airplane food sucks ass (for the most part at least. 

Jojo was forced to eat it on his plane back to new york but he didn’t like finish it

Probably bcs he was so nervous and it also didn’t look so appetizing

So after they’ve said their heartfelt ‘i still love you’s and etc mike took him back to his apartment after finding out he doesn’t hv a place to stay. He’d stay at his parents place but the de la guerra’s hv long moved out of new york. You can say the similarities between jojo and his parents are that they like to travel. They sold their house and ended up backpacking across the world to look for a place to retire inevitably. Last time he checked up on his mom, the old couple is driving to Netherlands.

So mike took him home and cooked him dinner. They hv the apartment all to themselves since hotshot and ike are out

Unknowingly, jojo had sat on honey’s favorite spot on the couch and earned a disapproving meow from the little cat

Not until mike had properly introduced them that honey started to be nicer to jojo. And so they eat dinne ron the couch and talked.

Mike admitted calling him has been on his mind for quite some time but was too scared to act up on it. And jojo said what he did just now was the most compulsive and adrenaline rush thing he’s ever done. The roles had reversed for the moment

But now they’re back where they’ve always belong. In each other’s grasp while looking out the balcony in the tiny living room to watch the sunrise and then getting surprised seeing ike and hotshot pile in the apartment

And so now they’re back. They make the most of the weekend to talk abt what they really want

Jojo wants to quit his old job. The firm is full of snobby and arrogant ppl

And it has him working almost 24/7. He doesn’t want that

Mike on the other hand wants to hv a period of his life where he’s traveling full time

So they took inspiration from ike and hotshot’s current plan : get a mini bus to convert it into a home

In conclusion jojo quits his job, moves back to new york along with his cat dorothea so he can live with mike to make that converted bus plan. After securing a proper job that let’s him work at home flexibly like mike’s, they get on with their plan and sets off to travel in their house on wheels with their two cats. They end up getting married ofc and lived happily ever after:)

Thank you and goodnight folks hsnsgsbssjshmshssmhs

[heyheydidjaknow]

I would’ve posted this earlier but, alas, I passed out early. This is a longer one, but tumblr got its act together so I can post it all in one part. You guys know where the other chapters are, and if you don’t, they’re at the end of the chapter. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go eat straight Nutella.

Chapter 10

“I’m thinking about getting some gloves.”

He looks over at you as he laces up his skates. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you nod, smiling slightly to yourself as you look your hands over, trying to imagine what they would look like. “Like, badass, fingerless gloves.”

He smiles. “Dude, those would look metal as fuck.”

“Totally, right?” Your smile widens. “With studs and shit.”

He gets to his feet, hopping onto the ice. “Hell yeah.” He drops a puck to assault as you go back to your backed-up coursework the best you can—your handwriting has gone to hell, but you are working with what you have.

You flinch at the crack of his stick, the cross of the T ending up underneath the letter somehow. A cheer from Casey tells you the rubber cylinder’s fate.

‘I swear I learned this.' You squint at the basic algebra, the pencil, crudely held in your fist, hovering over the packet. ‘Why can’t I do this?’

“How’s your pile coming along?” Another crack.

“It’s comin’.” You run your fingers through your hair. “Just… trynna remember how to do ne—… subtraction.” ‘Not debate. Negating is debate.’

He laughs. Another crack. “Man, that thing really fucked you over, huh?”

“Thoroughly.” You decide against continuing to torture yourself, having been at it for the past five hours—most of it in the library before Casey invited you to watch him practice some more— and set the large stack of homework back in your bag. “Are you actually making the shots?”

“Casey Jones doesn’t miss shots.” Another crack.

“Pardon me, oh almighty king of the ice.” You stand on your good leg, grabbing the side of the wall to watch as he went back to collect his pucks.

You two have managed to bond over a mutual respect/love of heavy metal and hockey and, seeing as you are staying out of the Hamatos’ hair for a while—not upon request, but out of courtesy—you have managed to spend a lot more time with him than you may have otherwise. Your school has not assigned Biology any big projects yet, so, until you are assigned it, you do not have anything other than your health to stress about.

“Pardon accepted.” You watch his form as he performs another slap shot.

“You…” you trail off, trying to remember what you were going to say.

“What?”

You shrug. “Dunno.” You lean your head on your arms. “I’ll remember eventually.”

He drops the second puck. “Got any plans after this?”

You sigh. “Nope. Probably gonna head home and try not to cut my fingers making dinner again.”

He takes another shot. “Then let’s go out after this. You and me.”

You smile. “What, don’t have any plans either?”

“Nah.” He drops the third. “Dad doesn’t care if I’m home late anyway.”

“True, true.” You have decided against prying into his home life; it is not your place and does not concern you in the slightest. “Where do you wanna go?”

“Wanna catch a movie? Heard there was this new pizza place just a couple blocks down if you wanna try to sneak it in.”

You snicker. “In the box and all?”

“Yes.” He grins mischievously and hits this one off the walls. Some way, somehow, it still makes it into the goal. “I bet your sweatshirt is big enough to stick the box under.”

You stick your tongue out at him. “Not in the mood for burns on top of scars, Jones,” you reprimand him teasingly. “That just ain't it.”

“Then you can wear mine under that one and—”

“Your sweat-soaked hoodie you’ve been practicing in all day?” You cringe at the thought. “Over my dead body.”

“I mean…” he licks his teeth, smile widening, “it’s not exactly like you’re in the best—”

You laugh. “So not cool!”

He puts his hands up in defense, gliding over. “I mean, am I wrong, though?”

“That is completely besides the point, you ass.” You balance on your foot, crossing your arms. “Damn. Making fun of the girl with the broken leg.”

He leans against the wall. “Man, you were dying before the crash.”

You roll your eyes. “Alright, whatever, Jones.” You lean against your hand. “How’s Johanna,” you sing.

He presses his hand against your face, pushing you away. “Annie is doing fine.”

You grin, steadying yourself on the wall. “Do you feel her, Johanna?”

“I’m gonna tell her you call her that if you don’t quit it.”

“Do you think that walls can hide her? Even when you’re at her window?”

He pushed his arm all the way out. You hop back.

“Her name isn’t even Johanna.”

“But she is Johanna,” you whine in protest, not bothering to hide your mirth. “She has the hair, the voice, the disposition. She’s an ingénue and you know it.” You have been teasing him about this for a while now: the girl in question—Annabelle Halshaw, a year below you two—had caught his eye when he had heard through the grapevine that she was the lead singer in some indie band. When he had shown you a picture and told you the story, you insisted on calling her Johanna for her golden hair and soft, sweet singing voice he had proudly had you listen to.

“She’s not.”

You roll your eyes, sitting back down as you grab your bag. “Lie to yourself all you want,” you goad, “but deep down, you know in your heart that the truth,” you put a finger up, “is apparent.”

He hops off the ice, sitting next to you as he unlaces his skates. “Whatever.” He smirks. “How’s The Don?”

You avert your gaze. “I haven’t seen ‘im.”

“Boo.” He tied the laces together. “Some girlfriend you are,” he ribs.

You go red. “Not my boyfriend. Not even friends with benefits.”

“Yeah, sure.” He sets the skates into his bag. “That’s why you already know his family.”

“That—”

“And why you’ve had him over to your place.”

“If you don’t cool your tits, I’m telling Lucy you’re crushing on her friend.”

“Don’t you dare!”

“What,” you simper, “think I won’t?”

He grabs his bag. “If you do, I’ll show her that video.”

You laugh, following him out of the rink. “You’re the worst.” You note how strange it is that he spent so little time on the ice as you two walk out, but you do not say anything about it.

“Hey, you’re the one throwing threats around.”

“Yeah,” you argue, “but my threat is clearly better.”

He rolls his eyes, pushing you again.

You two keep chatting on the way to the theatre about anything and everything, from new bands to upcoming games to the newest blockbuster horror movies. You are not personally on the hockey team, but, as his friend, it is your duty to care. Besides, you figure, it gives you something to look forward to.

The movie is fine. You convince him against sneaking an entire pizza in, you split a bucket of popcorn, and you give him shit for getting freaked out by the disembowelment scene. It is payback for him teasing you about crying during the last movie you two went to a couple of days ago.

You two stand at the streetlight.

“Dude, it’s like eight,” he groans. “It’s not even late.”

“True,” you agree. “Counterpoint: I still have another week’s worth of work to do by Friday on top of the homework I’ll have to do anyway, so unless you wanna help—”

“Forget I asked.” He pulls his hood up against the autumn wind. “Need me to walk you back?”

“Nah.” You shrug. “If someone mugs me, they’ll give me an excuse to not do my homework.”

“Murdered?

“I’m already halfway there.”

He grins. “See ya tomorrow, Y/N.”

“See ya, Jones.” You wave as he runs off.

The walk home is quiet and considerably easier than it was a couple of weeks ago. Seeing as you now get queasy whenever you get into a car, you have been limited to taking the subway and walking, which, among other things, has contributed positively to your physical strength. You know that you should probably at least try to take the bus or a cab around town to build your tolerance up, but the last time you tried, you had almost tripped and fallen from how shaky your legs were getting out. Oddly enough, you note as you go through the door, you do not have a considerably larger fear of heights than you did before, or of fire, but cars were tripping you up, even though you were the one that crashed it. You feel thankful that, at least, you do not think your fear is crippling. At least, you reason, you can still get into the car.

You lock the door behind you, debating whether you feel like adding to the collection of cuts you now possess— they are self-inflicted, but not intentionally so; you stubbornly refuse to acknowledge the fact that you physically cannot use your hands to cut things. You decide against it tonight, tossing your bag on the bed as you sprawl across it, admittedly exhausted. You allow yourself a couple of seconds with your eyes closed before you pull yourself up with a groan and get back to work.

A part of you wishes that you had the physical energy to stay out longer. You are always trying to find excuses not to sleep, and although the mountain of homework and readjusting your timelines for things you missed is certainly one way to keep yourself preoccupied, it is not exactly what you would consider fun. Then again, reliving your greatest traumas while you sleep is not exactly fun either.

You catch yourself peeling at the newly applied bandages on your fingers, fingernails catching under the crudely applied adhesives. Applying bandages properly requires more dexterity and patience than you currently possess, and you are hardly going to ask someone else for help with something as stupid as that. You have lasted this long without needing too much help. People can live by themselves. You will live, probably. Well? Not your concern.

‘I should eat something.’ Your eyes strain to focus on the piece of paper in front of you, your mind wandering aimlessly as you try to impress the actual importance of finishing this upon yourself, but you find that is an insurmountable feat.

You drop your bag off the side of the bed, reaching down and pulling your shoe off, leaning back into your pillows, the weight of the day practically immobilizing you. Fumbling hands switch the lamp off, bathing your room in momentary, blissful darkness before the gravity of your decision sets in.

“Alright, me,” you breathe to yourself. “What’s it gonna be today? My folks? Bradford? What’s his face? Hell,” you chuckle, “why not all three? I’m sadistic enough, I’m sure.”

You close your eyes. “Give me your worse,” you challenge as you slip into unconsciousness.

--

Two weeks.

He had kept his distance for about two weeks. It was not as if he did not care or was not morbidly curious what the crash had done to you—his glances through the curtains did not tell him much-- but, after some debate, he had figured you needed time to recuperate before you would want his company. Two weeks, he figured, would be enough time for you to get back on your feet or, at least, for you to start wanting company.

His excuse to see you had come in the form of his brother’s newfound prideful boasting. Feigning insult was as good an excuse as any to go see you; after all, he just so happened to be in the neighborhood anyway, and it was normal to pop in to see someone if you were already just a couple blocks down, right? Sneaking away was easy enough—they would not mind his absence—and he, after much prep work, knew exactly how and why he was going to say the things he would to get in your good favor. The plan, he knows, would have gone swimmingly.

His plans seem asinine when he hears you crying.

His brothers do not cry much. He does not, either; it was a habit that they had all thoroughly bullied themselves out of when they were much younger and, if they still did, he knew nothing of it. His master did not encourage this, per se, but talked, then, frequently about the importance of maintaining a more stoic disposition and not allowing emotions to cripple you in battle. Practically, Donatello was satisfied with that explanation, having not properly cried for more than a year now. To hear the sound again, especially coming from you, was novel.

Novel, too, is how you are crying. The sound is less of actual sobbing and more of you being strangled, quiet gasps for air escaping your lips as you shake on the bed, curled in on yourself and clutching at your chest as if whatever pain you are experiencing is centered and can be relieved by something between your collarbones. His eyes, for the first time, trace the lines on your skin, your sleeves riding up your arms to reveal them to him, tears racing down and along the gash in your face. Everything about the scene, from the soft gasping of panic to your position to the heavy scarring, is completely foreign to him, rivaled only by one or two particularly hard nights when he and his brother were much younger.

He slides in through the window, leaning onto the bed. His fingers flick your lamp back on as he grabs your shivering shoulder tightly, shaking you awake as he mumbles words of encouragement. He is not sure if his help will be appreciated, if snapping you out of it was even what he is supposed to do in this situation, but now is not the time to think of that. You are in pain. He can offer you this kindness. “Wake up,” he pleads, not thinking of how this would look until your eyes snap open to look at him.

Immediately, the reality of the situation sets in, and he scrambles off the bed. ‘Why did I think that would be a good idea?’ Panic. ‘You just walked into her room like a fucking creep. See, now she’s going to—’

“Sorry.”

He blinks, looking up at you from his place on the floor. “Huh?”

You clear your throat, wiping the tears from your eye with your sleeve quickly as you bring your knees to your chest, voice hoarse. “Sorry,” you repeat. “That you… I’m not sure what I’m apologizing for, but I know I should be apologizing.”

He is completely dumbfounded.

Your eyes glance to the open window. “I should probably start closing and locking my window, right?” You rub the back of your neck, voice clearing the longer you talk. “It didn’t occur to me since I’m so high up, but if you guys can get in, The Foot can too, right?”

‘Why is she apologizing?’

You push the hair out of your face. ‘You need something, right? I—uh—need to stop saying ‘right’ so much.” You shake your head to clear it. “’ Sup?”

He hears himself mumble some bullshit out about being in the neighborhood.

You sigh. “Sorry.” You close your eyes. “I’m usually up later; I’ve been so tired lately.”

‘Is she serious right now?’ He is completely lost. ‘She was just crying her eyes out in her sleep and now she’s apologizing? Did I miss something?’ You are smiling now, eyes still bloodshot, as if the whole thing is a figment of his imagination, still shivering where you sit.

He rises to his feet, kneeling in front of you on the bed. “What was it about?”

You blink, seemingly confused. “Huh?”

“Your nightmare,” he clarifies. “You were crying. What was it about?”

You avert eye contact. “Nothing too crazy,” you shrug. “Just about the crash. Nothing too exciting.” If possible, he thinks the bags under your eyes are worse than the last time you saw him.

He takes your hands loosely, turning them palms up to look, for the first time, at the patchwork quilt that is now your skin. “What happened in it?” He runs his thumb along the lines, keeping his voice low; he remembers how that used to help when Mikey used to have fits when they were younger. Leonardo and Raphael were never good at that; they took better to being more violently snapped out of their moods, but, then again, they never had this kind of breakdown; theirs were always more driven by loathing, self or otherwise.

You pause, still not looking him in the face as your muscles relax. He remembers, vividly, how he had done something similar when you two had first met, how much better, health-wise, you looked. ‘How long has it been since then? Three months? A little less?’

You take a deep breath. “Just… family shit,” you mumble, eyelids drooping as you trace his frame loosely. “Fire.”

Your gaze is piercing as you finally look at him properly. He feels something catch in his throat as you bow your head.

“It’s my fault, you know.” Your voice is so soft, barely a whisper. “That they’re dead, I mean.”

The air is a suffocating blanket that smothers you both.

“I never told you, did I?” Your focus does not shift as it might have a bit ago. It is locked solely and intensely on him, taking in every detail of his expression. “How I died? How they died? Why I died?”

Hesitantly, he shakes his head. He thinks it best to just be quiet and let you talk. He does not think he has ever heard anyone speak in quite the same tones, ever looked at him quite the same way you are.

You take another breath. “I wanted to try my hand at baking.” You force your eyes to stay focused on his. “I was—still am—not good about sleep. I always slept bad, and never at the right times. I used to take pills for it, to try to get myself back on track.”

He sees where this is going.

“I thought I could still stay up as late as I was used to.” You glance to the side, stealing yourself a second before focusing back on the boy in front of you. “I sat down in my room, turned on a movie. I set a timer. I fell asleep.” You swallow, hands shaking in his. “I can’t smell well, either. I must not have smelled the burning.” Your lips curl in a bitter smile. “Sure as fuck felt it, though, when I woke up.”

He lets you finish.

You try to blink the tears out of your eyes. “They were asleep,” Your voice rises ever so slightly. “I fell asleep at two something. I woke up when they started yelling.” You purse your lips, face reddening in shame as your nostrils flair. “They were trying to get someone out of bed when the roof caved in above them. My door got blocked.”

You feel yourself smile.

“So,” you strain not to cry, “that, Donatello, is why I’m here and why I’m dead, and why I really do deserve to burn again.” You laugh. “Hell, my body count is rivaling some serial killers, so that’s… that’s certainly something.”

He lets go of your hands, face blank.

You lean forward, placing your hands on your knees. “I don’t blame you,” You wipe a wayward tear out of your eyes, trying to swallow the frog in your throat. “Fuck, man, I’d think less of me, too, if it were me.” You nod towards the window. “I get it if you want to leave, but I thought you might want to know why—”

He stops you mid-sentence, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you to him.

Your arms lay slack at your sides as you try to process what is happening.

He does not say a word.

You break.

You burry your face into him, tears welling in your eyes as you let out a strangled sob. You hold onto him tightly as you struggle to breathe, body shaking as you wrap your own arms around him the best you can. The sound roars in your ears like thunder, the deafening quiet of the apartment punctuated only by your own cries. He gently holds you there, resting his head on top of yours. Each sound you make sounds as though you are physically being choked by your guilt, and his chest feels as though it is being crushed by an invisible hand as he listens to your pain.

Neither of you knows how long you stay like that.

He considers telling you a story from a long time ago, about some training he and his brothers had back then, but thought better of it; he does not want to upset you any more than you already are, and being in good company with someone like him may not be exactly what you need right now. Granted, he does not know what you do need, but he knows listening to him talk about bashing brains would not help your sensibilities any.

Instead, he stays quiet.

You pull away after a while, wiping your face off again as you mumble out an apology.

“Don’t apologize.” He clears his throat. “It’s good to cry; it releases endorphins.”

You smile at that. “Well,” you giggle tearfully, “if it releases endorphins.”

He smiles back, face flushing. You look good, he thinks, even with your face all red. He knows that, scientifically, there is probably a reason, but he cannot think of it right now.

He stands up. “I’ll get—”

You grab his hand tightly.

He looks back at you.

“Can I ask a favor?”

He blinks. “Of course,” he agrees easily. “Anything.”

You glance off. “Promise not to take it weird?”

He feels his heart rate increase. “Y-yeah,” he nods.

He feels you pull him gently back on the bed. “Can you stay here tonight?”

His eyes widen as they flicker between the mattress and you. “What,” he clarifies breathlessly, “like sleep with you?”

You nod.

“In the same bed?”

You hesitate, nod again.

He clears his throat, face heating again. “Like, actually?”

“If it wasn’t actually, I wouldn’t ask, would I?” You grip his hand tightly. “I just really don’t want to be alone tonight.”

‘Oh.’ He mentally kicks himself. ‘She’s scared. Don’t make her uncomfortable.’

“It’s alright if you don’t—”

He is extremely quick to reassure you that he is more than happy—‘Bad choice of wording.’—to stay tonight until you fall asleep, but that he would not stay the whole night as to not worry his brothers.

You nod in agreement. “That’s fine.” You rub the back of your neck. “Not sure I would be good company when I wake up, anyway; I still have class.”

“Oh, right.” He nods in understanding, pushing himself further onto the bed. “Which side…?”

You shrug. “Which way do you face?”

“I usually lie on my stomach.”

“Then it doesn’t matter.” You slide your sweatshirt over your head after a bit of squirming around, tossing it onto the couch.

His face is now scarlet. “Okay then,” he mumbles, laying down on the side away from the window. ‘Is she going to—no, stop that.’

You look over at him, face down on the mattress. You can almost feel the heat coming off him. “Are you alright there, buddy?”

He nods.

You shrug, laying down under the blanket and curling into him, facing the window. “Mind getting the light?”

He reaches over, clicking it off.

You sigh in content, turning to face him, teetering on the edge of the mattress. “I’m not venomous,” you inform him teasingly. “I’ve said it once and I’ll say it again: of the two of us, you should not be the one who’s a nervous wreck.”

“You dunno that.” His voice is muffled by the bed.

“You’re the strong one,” you argue.

“So?” He turns his head to look at you. “I’m the guy laying in the—I’m just gonna stop that sentence.”

“It’s only bad if it isn’t consensual.” You smile reassuringly. “I invited you to lay with me, right? So, unless I make you uneasy, then we’re all good.”

He breaks eye contact. “So,” he clarifies, “you don’t mind if I move closer to you?”

You shake your head.

He hesitantly slides himself further onto the bed. “Can I move closer than this?”

“You’ve already seen me bawl my eyes out. You’re doing me a service. Move as close or as far as you want.”

He moves to press his side against you. “Is this fine?”

You nod. “Look, how about this?” You rest your arm under your head. “If you do something I’m uncomfortable with, the safe word is pina colada.”

‘We already have a safe word?’ He was not sure if he is on cloud nine or just terrified of you.

You are very confused why he looks so warm. “Do you need me to turn the AC on?”

He shakes his head. “I’m good,” he assures you tightly. Slowly, he reached an arm out and over your waist, pulling you closer. You do not seem to resist in any way, wrapping your good leg around one of his to pull him closer.

‘Conscious touching.’ He glances down at you, trying to act cool. ‘Conscious, intentional touching. She smells so nice and she feels—okay, this is not going to work if you keep being a perv.’

“Thanks,” you mumble, humming softly. “I appreciate this more than you know.”

Cloud nine. Definitely on cloud nine.

“Every time.”

You giggle.

He blinks. “What?”

“Every time,” you note, already nodding off. “Like in that book.”

‘Which one?’ “They wrote it down for a reason, right?” The longer he spends like this, the smoother he feels.

“Totally.” You smile, closing your eyes. “Just know that this goes both ways, alright? If you ever need help like this, you know who to call.”

This is new. ‘Help like this? What, like crying?’ His eyebrows furrow as he tries to understand what you mean. ‘Or he means if I ever need company in my—what did I just say?’

You pick up on his confusion. “Emotional help, I mean.” Your fingers trace the indentations in his shell absentmindedly. “I mean, I know sometimes I didn’t want to go to my family about stuff. I dunno if you have that…” you trail off, realizing that you might be unintentionally bashing his brothers. You sincerely do not want to blow this.

“I mean,” he says after a bit, “I think I get what you’re talking about.” He sighs. “You mean stuff that they’d make fun of me for, right?”

You nod.

He feels his heart melt a little. “I’ll have to take you up on that.”

You forgot how safe he makes you feel. “Goodnight, Donnie,” you mumble sleepily.

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

You pass out not long after that. If he has to estimate a general amount of time, he will clock it in at about five minutes. He does not move, however, until about thirty minutes before sunrise, too busy listening to the sound of your breathing and memorizing how exactly your body feels next to his. As he slips out of the window, early morning air waking him back up completely, he wonders if, someday, he could stay to see you wake up next to him. Not out of necessity, but just because you both wanted to stay like that for a while more.

‘I hope so. It’s a nice dream to have, anyhow.’

Table of Contents

Chapter 9

Chapter 11

[bumbershots]

SUCK IT AND SEE

Author’s note: HELLO! This is my (very very late) part for the amazing Playlist fic challenge that @harrystylescherry put together. The song I chose is Suck it and see by the Arctic Monkeys. I had it ready back in April but I didn’t love it to be honest, but I do now, so hopefully you will too. In all honesty I loved it a little bit too much so this can be taken as the prologue for a new series, I will be posting the details for it next week :) enjoy!

Summary: Harry reflects on his decision to “Suck it and see” when it comes to his relationship with Selena. He decides that no matter how things turn out… good or bad it's worth the experience and gives him the opportunity to always be the person she needs him to be.

Word count: 2.3K

Trigger warning: mention of depression.

The Wellington is slowly filling up, Harry is done tuning his guitar, his eyes quickly scan the usual clientele. A sigh escapes his lips before he takes another sip of the pint he ordered. He needs to calm down.

It’s a quiet Tuesday night, so the usual elderly gentlemen and a few students occupy the place eating fish and chips and drinking as they argue about football, their families or their jobs. Harry sits by the small stage that is set across the bar, fiddling with the strings of his favourite instrument.

The door has opened at least seventy times, and every single one of them has the nineteen year old craning his neck to see if it’s Selena. But his stomach clenches after finding out, once more, that it’s not her.

“Mate it’s half past ten,” he hears Sarah’s voice from behind and he sighs again before nodding in acceptance and defeat.

“Let’s do it then.” Harry rises and stands close to his assigned microphone while the other two band members also join them in the small platform.

After a year of playing in the most shitty and not so shitty places all over London, the band was offered a chance at a small record company. Tonight was the last show they performed at this place, soon they would be chasing bigger venues and dreams.

With that in mind the bass player, Yuri, steps up to his own microphone to speak. “It’s time for some music.” His sweet voice claims the regulars attention, just as Sarah counts to four hitting her drumsticks together and Mitch plays the opening chord for the first song of the night.

Three years ago, when the band was just a thought drifting around Harry’s mind, he would daydream about this moment, the last show because they’ve finally made it. Their usual fans would gather near the stage for a better glimpse and sing along the familiar tunes. He would finally master a solo and when it was all over, his eyes would meet a pair of familiar ones watching from the bar, she would be equally smiley, a proud look on her face as she claps and cheers louder than anyone.

In the last two months, that mental image has permanently settled on his brain. Harry Styles wanted success for his band more than anything, but not more than seeing her at the end of it all. Which is why after the set comes to an end, he refuses to look up. He knows she’s not there.

Had she come in at some point during their performance, he would’ve noticed, even with all the ruckus done by the now considerable crowd in the pub. If Selena had set foot on the place, Harry would’ve known.

“Thank you for everything, you’ve been amazing tonight and every night before,” Yuri‘s words pull him back from the trance, but he keeps his gaze away from the bar, he settles for the back of the bass player’s head as he speaks for the last time. “This isn’t the last you hear from The Cherry Blossoms!”

There’s a lot of cheering and applause and Harry is suddenly mad about not finding it satisfying enough. He knows he will hate himself for it, but before walking off the stage, he looks over at the bar.

She’s not perched on a stool like the first time they played in here, sipping on some soda because of her lack of tolerance to alcohol. She’s not skipping over to hug him. Where is she? Harry wonders what could possibly be more important than this.

I will be there of course. I’m your biggest fan, after all. She so smugly declared on their last phone call, a week ago.

The urge to call her is too much, but Harry knows that if for some reason, she doesn’t pick up the phone. He will finally lose it. Instead he joins his band mates for a celebratory drink.

Listening to Yuri gush about Sarah’s drumming and complimenting Mitch on his skills as well, lifts Harry’s spirits a bit. If only for the next hour, he’s going to enjoy and bask into their triumph. And he’s so sure that there’s a perfect explanation for her absence, that he does end up having a good time. He ignores the heavy feeling in his chest, a reminder of the power that girl holds on him.

◇

A sleepy Selena Lara mumbles nonsense, slowly waking up and becoming aware of an annoying ringtone blasting through the small flat, it stops for a minute until it goes off again and now she definitely knows the mobile belongs to her.

“Hello,” she greets so earnestly, despite the sleepy rasp in her voice, that Harry can perfectly picture the slow process that is her waking up.

He hears some rustling on her end and it plays like a movie before his eyes. The way she sits up, rubs her eyes and keeps them closed for about five minutes. Harry always gets out of bed before her, and it’s always him watching —watching her come awake, little by little, slow but sure. Harry wishes to be a witness of it more often, everyday if possible. Even if sometimes Selena takes a really long shower, or if some days she only mumbles some words before snuggling herself onto the sofa and falling right back asleep. Harry doesn’t mind, never will.

But he ignores the warm feeling he gets just by thinking about her.

“Where were you last night?” he says instead.

“What?”

“Last night, when the band played its last gig at The Wellington. You didn’t attend.”

“You thought I was going to be there?” Selena flops back onto her side, taking the duvet with her until she’s cocooned once again. “Harry I love you, but you know I couldn’t possibly afford a flight back home.”

“Why?”

She sighs, this conversation was bound to take place between them at some point. “The program at Bunka is… intense, to say the least. I almost failed a class so there is not a chance for a scholarship, I need to find another job if I want to be able to pay for tuition.”

“Why didn’t you tell me this before?” They both know why. If Harry had known that she wouldn’t be there, he would have refused to even set foot at the pub.

“I was embarrassed.” Selena admits with a light shrug she knows he can’t see. “I know I don’t have a valid reason to be, I have proper housing, food, and a job. But I just feel so frustrated at this school.” She mumbles something at the end that he can’t understand, but it sounds a lot like her doubting her own talent.

After eight years of friendship, Harry knows pretty much everything about Selena and vice versa. They trust each other, with all they have. Which is why he’s hurt after hearing about this just now.

“How long have you felt this way?” He asks, not sure if the answer is something he will like.

“About four months.”

The silence that follows is deafening. Harry considers the merits of lecturing Selena, but he would never kick her when she’s down. Also he’s aware that Selena knows she should trust him with things like that, they’ve never been too shy to share their feelings with each other. It’s what brought them into this situation anyway.

It started two years ago, the last summer Selena spent in England, right before she moved to Japan and studied fashion design. It started with them going to that party, separating as usual, agreeing on a reasonable hour to meet at the door and leave together. It started with Selena wearing a skirt that made Harry want to do all kinds of things for her. It started with Harry offering to leave earlier and placing his hand on the small of her back all the way back home. It started with Selena kissing him in the dark and instead of a beginning it felt a lot like crossing the finish line of a marathon.

It kept going even after that summer, because Harry insisted on calling her all sorts of pet names and giving her kisses on the cab ride to the airport. It kept going because Selena got a Skype account and sent Harry an invite. And it is surprising to anyone and no one really that it lasted two years already.

The only problem is that they hadn’t talked about it. The I love you Harry whispered after that first night together and the I knew it! Selena triumphantly acclaimed before bursting out one of her unattractive laughs. To this day remains the only talk they had, Harry doesn’t know what to make of it.

“Shit,” Selena mumbles after checking the time, “I have to get ready for work.” She wants to say something to appease him, anything. Harry is waiting for the words to come out of her pretty mouth.

Selena is good with words, knows a lot of them in English, Spanish, French and Japanese. She was popular for speaking up against unfairness at school, and was running a monthly column at an online magazine. But she doesn’t have any right now. Selena doesn’t want to tell him how much she hates the program, how stupid it makes her feel, how she longs for the day she can finally be done and never look back on it. Selena doesn’t complain. She doesn’t get frustrated. She doesn’t quit. Ever.

“But we’ll Skype tomorrow, alright?” It’s better than nothing so Harry takes it.

“Of course, have a good day baby.”

Selena ends the call and groans. She doesn’t want to overthink about her relationship Harry, it’s the only good thing she has right now. With a shake of her head and a proper stretch of her limbs, she gets out of bed.

But it occurs to her in the middle of a three hour lecture, that she might have been cruel with Harry. He asked if she would attend the gig and she said yes, as if there weren’t thousands of kilometres between them. She knows he will never talk about this, and that she was already forgiven by him. She thinks about the fees his mobile carrier is charging him with all those calls he makes every week. She feels bad about not being able to love him the way he needs to be loved.

Because when it all started she never thought of it lasting past that summer when they made promises hard to keep. But Harry, always kind and attentive Harry, didn’t let her slip away. He gave her space to recharge when she needed it and she always came back feeling guilty about it, because she always enjoys the time apart. He always sent a care package at the beginning of the month with her favourite sweets. He praised all of her designs, no matter how much she insisted they were not even that good. You know nothing about fashion he would say with a roll of his eyes and Selena would smile, forever fond of his antics, forever fond of him and him alone.

It occurred to Selena that she always sort of had a crush on Harry —a crush everyone knew about. But even that didn’t stop her from being cruel to Harry, even that wouldn’t force her to answer his Skype call the next day or the one after that. She remembers how Harry claimed to be the more infatuated one with whatever they were doing. One of their last nights together, he couldn’t keep his mouth shut and breathed against the crook of her neck just how many times he’d dreamt about being with her like that.

Selena warned him, knowing that train of thought might lead to a conversation she didn’t want to have, not then. But he laughed and his hot breath against her skin made her dizzy. Sorry, but you’ve got such a pretty face I’m sure it’s going to break me a little. What else is there?

What else is there, Selena thinks now, as she closes her laptop after ignoring all of Harry’s Skype calls. She turns off her phone too, because she knows his MO well enough and that is his next resource. It’s the first time she does it and it feels cruel again. She wonders how much more of this will Harry endure, how long until he stops trying to reach her and finally realises that it’s not worth it. That she doesn’t want him to comfort her, that she is not going to talk about how tired of everything in her life she is. Selena can’t give up, not after everything her family is expecting her to achieve.

But she doesn’t know just how much Harry truly feels about her, how much he longs for her to know that the way she has of caring for him is enough and he will take it, will always take anything if it’s coming from her.

Harry knows that being apart is hard, so he always tries extra hard to communicate, be patient and endure. But having to sit alone at his flat, unable to do a single thing, a single damn thing for Selena, that is something he refuses to keep doing. Having to watch from half the world away, knowing he can’t do a single thing about it. That is enough to break Harry Styles. Without a second thought he opens his laptop once again, this time to search for the next flight to Japan.

He’s a fool, for spending so much money on a flight to see how his friend with benefits is doing. And suddenly he remembers all the times Selena’s been trying not to break his heart. But he can’t help wanting to be there for her, maybe after this, they will finally have that conversation. Nothing is certain as Harry packs a small luggage, nothing really is when it comes to her.

As he boards the aeroplane a day later though, the pressure on his chest disappears. Whatever happens now can’t be a bad thing, not when he’s seeing Selena anyway.

[dweetwise]

i can’t remember the last time i wrote a proper date, this was a joy to work on and i hope you enjoy <3

ship: felix x ace warnings: none word count: 3740

[previous] [next]

Where there’s smoke, there’s fire (part 5)

Felix despises meeting clients.

They're entitled, they're whiny, and in this particular case, they're obnoxious and unwilling to compromise.

It takes half an hour of their appointment to even get to its point, the client and his associates preferring to engage in pointless small talk, as if this small talk was worth Felix’s 18-hour flight. Still, he puts on his business face and laughs his polite fake laugh to humor them, since the project is important to Lauren.

When Felix finally gets to presenting his studio’s offer to the group, there's an influx of stupid questions that he hadn't prepared for. He improvises the best he can and ignores the rude comments about Lauren's design style, trying not to let the annoyance show on his face.

The hours tick by and his clients don’t seem to be in any sort of hurry, content to keep bullshitting and dragging out the appointment. Felix’s pulse is racing and he almost feels like he’s about to be sick, nerves mixing with dread as he realizes he’s going to be late for his date with Ace.

When he's finally allowed to leave, five excruciating hours and way too many fake laughs and handshakes later, Felix is almost ready to kill someone.

Instead, he calls Ace as soon as the office building’s doors close behind him.

“Hello?” Ace's voice sounds annoyed, and Felix doesn't blame him in the slightest.

“I'm sorry, my meeting ran late,” Felix apologizes hurriedly, checking his watch to notice it’s already six o’clock. “Do you still want to meet?”

“Oh! Yeah, sure!” Ace's voice perks up, his words difficult to make out through some strange background noise. “Don't worry about it, I kinda lost track of time too.”

“I can come straight from the office, I'll just get a cab,” Felix says, looking around the street for signs of a taxi.

“Uh, alright!” Ace’s voice sounds surprised. “There's this Italian place just a few blocks from the hotel. I can be there in twenty, I'll text you the address.”

“Sounds good,” Felix sighs, already feeling calmer now that he knows he didn't mess up his chance with the man.

Somehow, despite the taxi getting stuck in traffic for minutes on end, Felix arrives at the restaurant before Ace does. He hovers near the entrance awkwardly, not sure whether he should go inside to wait.

He decides to stay outside on the sidewalk, hoping the fresh air will soothe some of his overwhelming nerves. Standing there in his work clothes, clutching his briefcase and repeatedly glancing at his watch, Felix feels utterly ridiculous and is already starting to regret the entire thing.

Ace is either ten minutes late or is standing him up. Is it revenge for Felix neglecting to contact him earlier? Was Felix imagining the connection between them? Felix really shouldn’t have come; he's completely drained after the meeting and would much rather curl up in his hotel bed—

And then he spots Ace making his way over, and as soon as their eyes meet the doubts fizzle out and disappear.

“Hey, handsome!” Ace greets with a radiant smile, and Felix is instantly ready to forgive him. “How was work?”

“It was fine,” Felix lies, not wanting to sour the other's permanent good mood.

“I'm glad!" Ace says. “Hope you're hungry, because I'm starving,” he smiles, reaching for the restaurant door and holding it open for Felix.

Almost as soon as they step inside, Felix’s anxiety decides to flare up. The place looks more casual than he'd pictured, and he feels way too overdressed, his stiff suit and tie surely standing out among the crowd.

“Sorry I didn't have time to get changed,” Ace apologizes, coming up beside him. “I was planning to wear something nicer for you.”

Felix realizes Ace is in the same clothes as earlier today, apart from a blazer he's slung casually over his shoulder. It's reassuring to know Felix isn't the only one worrying about his outfit, even if Ace's patterned button-up seems much more fitting for the occasion.

“It's fine, I also would have preferred not to wear my work clothes,” Felix says, discreetly starting to tug off his tie to attempt to make the look more casual.

“Well, I do love a man in a suit,” Ace says and shoots him a wink, and Felix decides he definitely needs to remove some layers if he's going to survive the dinner without sweating buckets from the flirty attention.

While Felix is shrugging out of his suit jacket, a waiter comes to greet them and Ace effortlessly takes over, making small talk while they're shown to a table and given their menus.

"You got any wine recommendations?” Ace asks the waiter.

“Our house wine is a light chardonnay that goes well with most of our dishes.”

“Perfect,” Ace says, before turning to Felix. “You wanna share a bottle?”

“Yes, please,” Felix says, relieved at the chance to get some alcohol in his system. Maybe it’ll finally make him stop fretting so he can focus on their date.

As the waiter leaves to get their drinks, Felix follows Ace’s example and familiarizes himself with the menu. They make some small talk about the dishes, most of them unfamiliar to Felix, prompting Ace to make a few gentle suggestions. Following the advice, Felix settles on chicken risotto while Ace goes with some sort of seafood pasta that sounds way too adventurous for Felix’s taste.

The waiter returns to pour their drinks and take their orders, and Felix tries not to cringe in embarrassment as he butchers his dish’s pronunciation after Ace fluently orders his own.

“So, um…” Felix starts once the waiter leaves with their orders. “What do you do? For a living?”

The question feels clunky on his tongue, but isn't that what people ask on first dates? Felix takes a bigger gulp of wine than is appropriate to wash down his embarrassment.

“Straight to business, huh?” Ace says, his voice teasing, before taking a sip of his own wine. “You could say I'm a professional poker player.”

The surprise must be clear on Felix's face, because Ace chuckles.

“Not the most conventional gig, I know,” Ace offers good-naturedly.

“That sounds… interesting,” Felix says, realizing that somehow, the job makes sense. He should have guessed the strange man would have an unconventional occupation. “What is it like?”

“Unpredictable, risky and infuriating,” Ace huffs, before grinning. “But I love it.”

Felix nods in acknowledgement and stays silent, wordlessly encouraging Ace to go on.

“It’s just…” Ace eagerly continues. “The feeling of winning a high-stakes game? The anticipation and nerves when you don’t really have a good hand but have to keep going anyway, and finally manage the card you need at the very last round? Nothing else even comes close!”

Felix happily listens to Ace talk, enraptured by his ever-growing smile and eyes shining with pure, childlike excitement. He always enjoyed hearing people share their passions in life, and it sounds like cards are to Ace like architecture is to Felix.

“So I might be known to take a few more risks than most players,” Ace adds with an impish smile. “But it mostly works out—I don’t mean to brag, but I’ve been told I’m quite lucky,” he says, shooting Felix a wink.

Felix chuckles against the rim of his wine glass, enjoying the attention even if it makes his cheeks feel warm. He can’t deny Ace took a gamble by approaching him, though he wouldn’t necessarily attribute the success of that gamble to luck.

Speaking of gambling...

“Is your name a coincidence, or…?” Felix asks.

“Oh, funny story, that!” Ace chuckles. “I actually had it changed because of a bet.”

“I—excuse me?” Felix says.

“I was on this insane blackjack win streak in Vegas,” Ace says. “Got to play at the high rollers’ table; big bets, even bigger wins. It got to a point where people were crowding around the table, the other players dropping out just to make wagers on when I’d finally lose.”

Felix leans closer, listening raptly as Ace tells his story. He’s never been one for gambling, but he can almost see the scene play out in front of him; others looking on in awe and horror as risky bets were made, Ace reveling in the attention in the middle of it all.

“So, eventually, I bet everything on a single round,” Ace grins. “Crowd gasps and cheers, guy next to me says I’m a complete dumbass for pushing my luck.”

Felix can’t help but agree with the nameless player, but he bites his tongue.

“And wouldn’t you know it, I get a hard ten and the dealer gets a twenty,” Ace says. “Crowd’s cringing, guy’s laughing, saying there’s no way I’m getting a blackjack. So, I announce that if I get an ace, I’m legally changing my name to that.”

“And?” Felix asks, sounding more eager than he means to when Ace pauses for dramatic effect.

“Dealer hits me with an ace, jaws drop to the floor, I make a dent in the casino’s profit that night,” Ace smirks victoriously. “Got my name changed within the hour—good thing paperwork’s easy in Vegas.”

“That’s… wow,” Felix chuckles, taking a sip of his wine while he lets the incredulous tale sink in.

“Told you I’m lucky,” Ace says. “The money might not have lasted long, but I got a kick-ass name and good story out of it! Actually, there was this other time…” Ace suddenly trails off and glances to his right.

When Felix follows suit, having been completely immersed in looking at Ace, he notices the waiter approaching with their food.

Felix gives a polite nod as his order is placed in front of him. The appearance of the dish isn’t the most appetizing, even if the chef has clearly tried to pretty up the chicken and rice with some garnish. However, the smell is absolutely delicious, making Felix eager for a taste.

“Thank you,” Ace smiles up at the waiter as he receives his own serving.

The waiter is off with a polite “enjoy your meals” and Felix’s stomach rumbles in return.

“Well, bon appetit!” Ace offers, thankfully not seeming to have heard the sound.

“How do you say it in Italian?” Felix asks, wanting to acknowledge Ace’s roots.

When Ace looks up in surprise at the question before smiling brightly, Felix gives himself a mental pat on the back for accidentally being smooth.

“Buon appetito,” Ace says, looking at him warmly.

“Buon… apetito?” Felix tries his best to repeat the sentence.

“That’s it,” Ace encourages, happy with his attempt. “Now dig in, before it gets cold!”

Felix doesn’t need to be told twice. He scoops a small bit of the mushy rice and some chicken onto his fork, careful to avoid a piece of mushroom sitting on top as a garnish.

As suspected, the food tastes just as good as it smells. The rice is creamy and the chicken is tender, a strong flavor of cheese and herbs accompanying the taste.

“What’s the verdict?” Ace asks playfully, having apparently paused his eating to watch Felix slowly chew through his food.

“It’s very good,” Felix praises, going to scoop a bigger piece onto his utensils. “And yours?”

“Really nice!” Ace says, returning to his meal. “It’s been a while since I had this dish. Can’t really go wrong with it.”

Felix nods in acknowledgement and takes another bite of his food, this time accompanying it with a sip of wine. Ace seems happy to follow suit, and there’s a beat of comfortable silence as they enjoy their meals.

“So…” Ace speaks up, turning his attention back to Felix. “I realize I kinda went off earlier, only talking about myself.”

“I don’t mind,” Felix reassures. “It was a good story.”

“One of my favorites,” Ace grins. “But what about you? What do you do?”

“Me?”

“I mean, I only heard you bitch about your clients last night,” Ace says, and Felix is embarrassed to realize that he's right.

How on earth Ace not only dealt with his awkwardness, but also listened to him whine about his work and still decided to approach him is beyond Felix’s understanding.

“Which sounds totally justified, by the way,” Ace reassures with a grin when Felix internally panics instead of replying. “I just never caught what it actually is that you do. I've been guessing between law and marketing.”

“Sorry," Felix says, giving an apologetic smile for talking Ace's ear off the other night. “I'm actually an architect.”

“Oh, neat!” Ace exclaims. “I should've known you weren't just a pretty face,” he offers with a wink over the rim of his wine glass.

“It's not nearly as complicated as you seem to think,” Felix says, fidgeting from the praise.

“Modest, too,” Ace grins.

Felix doesn’t know how to reply to the compliment, so he opts to take a big bite of his food instead.

“Anyway, I promised to take your mind off work, huh?” Ace says. “What do you do for fun?”

Felix falters. He always dreads the hobby question, since his job pretty much is his entire life. Obsessively checking work emails or drinking until he passes out surely don't count as hobbies.

“I usually read architecture magazines or go jogging,” Felix lies.

Ace doesn’t reply, only quirks a skeptical eyebrow through a mouthful of pasta.

“Ehm… what?” Felix asks, suddenly self-conscious.

“This isn't a job interview,” Ace snorts in amusement. “I asked what you do for fun.”

“Ähm, sorry,” Felix apologizes, looking at the tablecloth in embarrassment.

“I'll start!” Ace decides. “I like to laze around and watch shitty 3PM telenovelas.”

“Telenovelas?”

“Oh. Latin American soaps,” Ace explains with a smile. “They're tacky and predictable but remind me of home.”

Felix returns a small smile, finding the thought of Ace watching cheesy afternoon TV oddly endearing.

“I guess I enjoy quiz programs,” Felix says. “And… maybe get a little frustrated when the participants get the obvious ones wrong,” he confesses.

“I bet you’d do great in one of those,” Ace says. “You’re so smart.”

“I’d probably swallow my own tongue from the nerves,” Felix mumbles, poking at his food.

“Oh, right,” Ace hums in thought, followed by another smile. “God, it’s so funny that a gorgeous guy like you is so shy,” he chuckles.

“It’s embarrassing, I know—” Felix starts.

“It’s endearing,” Ace corrects, and Felix swears his heart skips a beat.

“Do you have any other hobbies?” Felix asks, feeling like he needs to contribute to the conversation.

“Do lame card tricks count?” Ace grins. “If not, I sometimes play guitar—badly, I might add.”

“Both of those sound like a lot of fun,” Felix says. “I’ve never played an instrument.”

“It’s fun if you don’t take it seriously! You should try it, if you ever get the time,” Ace encourages.

They finish the rest of their meals while chatting pleasantly. Felix finds it easy to open up, Ace’s warm smile and relaxed demeanor putting him at ease. At the same time, he’s eager to learn more about Ace, every small detail he hears only serving to make him even more fond of the man.

When Felix eventually finishes his dish, save for the mushrooms and some questionable greens he doesn’t recognize, Ace has the audacity to look at his plate with a knowing smirk.

“What?” Felix says, although suspecting he already knows the answer.

“Nothing!” Ace says. “I’m just happy I got a picky eater to… almost finish his plate.”

“For the record, I liked the food,” Felix argues, bantering along. “It’s much better than the idiot sandwiches I had for lunch.”

“Uh… idiot sandwiches?” Ace asks, quirking an eyebrow.

“Oh, eh…” Felix falters, feeling stupid for resorting to an inside joke the other obviously wouldn’t understand. “That’s what my business partner calls the stale snacks that are served in meetings. Like sandwiches and quiche and the like.”

“I… see?” Ace says, obviously still confused.

“You know… like in the joke?”  Felix explains, but Ace looks even more lost, cocking his head in curiosity. “With the bread,” Felix says, placing his hands on the side of his head in a poor imitation of the video Lauren showed him once.

“I've gotta confess, I'm not great with tech,” Ace finally admits in defeat.

“Well, at least you know how to use a smartphone,” Felix says, recalling Ace effortlessly texting and exchanging their numbers.

“Okay, I'm not that old,” Ace jokes and kicks him playfully under the table.

While they’re sharing a chuckle, the waiter comes by to collect their plates.

“Did you enjoy your meals?” he asks.

“Absolutely!” Ace says.

“It was very good,” Felix agrees.

“I’m glad,” the waiter says with a smile.

And as he leaves with their plates without further blabbering, Felix makes a mental note to tip him well for making the evening such a pleasant experience.

“So,” Felix says, eager to return to the conversation with his date. “How old are you?”

It’s only when Ace quirks an amused eyebrow that Felix realizes his mistake.

“Sorry, you don't have to say,” Felix says, nervously wringing his hands under the table for being so rude.

“Naw, I don't mind,” Ace says with a smile. “I'm forty-eight.”

“Oh,” Felix says, not sure how to respond to the predictable answer. “I’m thirty-seven. You, um. You look very good,” he settles on, feeling his neck heating up from the awkward compliment.

“Not so bad for an old coot, huh?” Ace jokes, but something about it doesn’t sit right with Felix.

“What do you mean?” Felix asks.

“I mean…” Ace says, his smile finally faltering. “'You look good' doesn't really have the same ring to it when it's always followed by 'for your age',” Ace admits, staring into his wine glass thoughtfully.

The earnest confession takes Felix off guard; so far, he hasn't seen Ace display any signs of insecurity.

“But hey, that's life!” Ace immediately perks back up, offering a smile that doesn’t seem entirely genuine.

“I didn’t mean for your age,” Felix feels the need to clarify. “I think you’re, ehm. Very handsome,” he mumbles, and by now his face must be bright red.

But it’s worth it, because Ace’s smile softens into one that finally reaches his eyes.

“Thanks,” Ace says, before clearing his throat. “I mean, I don’t really let stuff like that bring me down, but… it’s still nice to hear, you know?”

“I do,” Felix says, deciding he should try to take a page from Ace’s book and be freer with his compliments, awkwardness be damned.

The waiter chooses that time to return to their table, not an entirely unwelcome distraction from the sudden feelings blooming in Felix’s chest.

“Would you like to order dessert? Coffee?” the waiter asks.

Ace only smirks and looks at Felix mischievously.

“I had something else in mind,” Ace says, his voice sounding deeper than before. “What about you, babe?”

Felix flushes both at the nickname and the reminder that for all intents and purposes, he is the dessert.

“I'm good as well, thank you,” he manages with a surprisingly steady voice, gulping down some more wine.

“We'll probably just finish up the wine and take the check,” Ace offers to the waiter with another pleasant smile.

“Of course,” the waiter says and is off with a polite nod.

“Wow, I didn't even realize the time,” Ace says, glancing at the clock over the bar counter.

Felix's gaze follows suit, and he sees that they've apparently been in the restaurant for over an hour.

“Time flies, huh?” Ace grins.

“Indeed,” Felix agrees.

He feels much more relaxed than when they arrived; the wine, good food and cozy atmosphere surely all have played a part in making him feel comfortable.

But not nearly as much as the company.

“Here you go, gorgeous,” Ace says, smiling as he refills both of their glasses with the remaining wine.

“Thank you,” Felix says, the cheesy compliment no longer making him fluster.

Instead, there’s a warm fluttering in his gut, fondness for his date mixing with anticipation of what’s to come.

It’s only when the waiter returns to drop their check on the table and Ace immediately reaches for it that Felix wipes the lovestruck smile off his face.

“You’re not paying,” Felix protests, reaching his hand over the table towards the bill.

“Oh, I think I am,” Ace says, lifting the small folder out of Felix’s reach. “I was the one who asked you out.”

“That doesn’t matter,” Felix argues. “It’s my treat.”

“Hmm, let me think about it,” Ace says, pretending to mull over the suggestion. “Nope!” he grins.

“Ace,” Felix says, exasperated but not able to stop the corner of his mouth from twitching up.

“Felix,” Ace counters with a shit-eating grin, and Felix snorts an ugly chuckle at the other’s ridiculousness.

After a few minutes of playful arguing, Ace begrudgingly agrees to split the bill.

But Felix adds the tip money before Ace has a chance to, much to the other’s annoyance.

“It’s not splitting if you pay twenty bucks on top of half,” Ace argues when they’re making to leave.

“You didn’t mention the tip, so it’s only fair,” Felix points out, smiling smugly as he rebuttons his suit jacket.

“Where’s this sudden sass coming from?” Ace exclaims in mock shock, a hand over his heart. “I’m starting to think the shyness is an elaborate act,” he teases.

And then he, once again, holds the door open for Felix as they exit the restaurant.

“You got me,” Felix says sarcastically. “I’m actually a stand-up comedian, not an architect.”

Ace laughs warmly at his joke, and something in Felix’s heart clenches.

He doesn’t know what comes over him. In one instant, Felix is watching Ace’s smile as he keeps playing off of the joke, and in the next, Ace is freezing mid-sentence, eyes momentarily widening in surprise as Felix has grabbed his hand with his own.

Felix already has an apology ready on his tongue for his embarrassing lapse in judgement, but Ace apparently has other ideas. His hand returns the hold on Felix’s as he resumes the conversation right where they left off, taking Felix’s clingy gesture in stride.

And Felix doesn’t remember when he’s last felt as happy as when they walk the few blocks to their hotel making stupid jokes and holding hands.

[daresplaining]

Hi, I have a question! I've been chatting with a friend about Matt's meditation, and I was wondering if you know of any comics that explain what his meditation actually involves. To me, the show suggests that his meditation involves reliving past mistakes, but that doesn't seem conducive to physical healing (aside from whatever mysticism may be involved) and I don't know if that's based in the comics at all anyway. Thanks!

    Hi! That’s a great question. You’re right, reliving past mistakes sounds like a terrible way to meditate. I don’t remember getting that impression from MCU Matt, but it’s been two years now since I last watched the show so it’s very possible I’m forgetting.

    In the comics, Matt uses meditation mainly for coping with sensory issues. Often, this means managing pain.

[ID: A panel from Bendis’s run showing Matt sitting cross-legged on a wood floor with his hands together in front of his chest. He is unclothed apart from underwear and bandages around his stomach. There are a bunch of lit candles on the floor in front of him, and behind him is a low bed in which an obscured figure (Milla Donovan) is sleeping. There are red burn marks on Matt’s face.]

Daredevil vol. 2 #48 by Brian Michael Bendis, Alex Maleev, and Matt Hollingsworth

    Here’s Matt meditating after being set on fire by Typhoid Mary. (For someone with a super-sensitive nose, I’ve always questioned the number of candles he’s got going here). Based on Matt’s comments, the meditation doesn’t actually diminish the pain, but it seems to allow him to get enough of a mental grip on it to function in spite of it. 

[ID: A panel from Bendis’s run. Matt is in a dimly-lit room, putting on his Daredevil costume. Milla is behind him.]

Milla: “But your hands-- the burns--”

Matt: “I-- Don’t worry, Milla. I have-- I have training and meditations-- I can control the pain.”

Daredevil vol. 2 #49 by Brian Michael Bendis, Alex Maleev, and Matt Hollingsworth

[ID: More panels from Bendis’s run. Matt is sitting up in bed and Milla is sitting on the side of the bed. Both are mostly naked and the background is in shadow.]

Milla: “Foggy and Ben [...] said you got up, got in a cab, followed them right in here and lied down.”

Matt: “Wow, I don’t remember that at all. What day is it?”

Milla: “It’s been a week or so. But look at you. You were totally out of it, and now you’re--”

Matt: “That’s how I trained my body. My sensei trained us to ‘accept the pain and to then let it go when its time is done.’”

Milla: “You don’t hurt anymore?”

Matt: “No, I hurt a lot. But I’m done with it. I have other things to do now.”

Milla: “‘You’re done with it.’”

Daredevil vol. 2 #59 by Brian Michael Bendis, Alex Maleev, and Matt Hollingsworth

    You’ll notice that all of these examples so far have been from Bendis’s run. That’s because Matt doesn’t actually meditate on-panel that often, and it’s pretty concentrated to within just a few runs.

    There’s also an element of hand-wavy reiki involved in Matt’s meditation, and some writers suggest that he can--  to a very minor degree-- actually speed up his healing via chi manipulation/mental willpower. 

[ID: Excerpt from Nocenti’s Daredevil run. Daredevil is lying on the ground, surrounded by tall grass. Everything is depicted in minimalistic shapes and yellow and black lines against a white background.]

Stick (off-panel): “Pump that heart! Breathe in! Breathe out! Heal those cuts! Seal them up! I said beat!”

[ID: Stick whacks Daredevil with his staff. Daredevil wakes up.]

Stick: “Good! Now keep it beating. Nice and steady. That bone in your right leg needs setting-- shift it back! You hear me? Beat! Beat! Beat! Pump that heart!”

Matt: “No! Go away!”

Stick: “Listen to me, boy! This is Stick talking! Trust me! Now heal those bones!”

Matt: “I don’t wanna heal!”

Stick: “Keep beating! You’ve got to mend. You’ve got to live.”

Daredevil vol. 1 #262 by Ann Nocenti, John Romita Jr., and Christie Scheele

[ID: Excerpt from Soule’s run. Daredevil, seen from behind, is sitting cross-legged on a rocky, mountaintop surrounded my mist. Stick walks up behind him.]

Stick: “What the hell are you doing up here, kid?”

Matt: “I’m doing what you taught me to do, Stick. Meditating, centering myself, drawing on my natural energies to accelerate the healing process.”

Stick: “Sounds like a bunch of hippie-dippie crap. This isn’t what I taught you.”

Daredevil vol. 5 #609 by Charles Soule and Phil Noto

    Matt certainly doesn’t have a healing factor in the traditional sense, but this sends us into that grey area surrounding Matt’s training. Fully trained members of the Chaste and the Hand have all kinds of healing powers, resurrection powers, etc. but Matt is far from fully trained. However, he did kind of bring Elektra back to life through sheer love and desperation that one time, and it’s not inconceivable for him to have some slim grasp of those powers that might allow him to heal a tiny bit faster than normal. I wouldn’t put it on a list of his superpowers, but it’s worth mentioning since it has come up a few times. 

    Matt also frequently has issues with general sensory overload, and he has been shown to use meditation to cope with that as well. Here’s an example from the Captain Universe mini-series, in which Matt gets possessed by the cosmic Uni-Power and his already-acute hypersenses are boosted to an unbearable intensity. He does the only thing he can do in that situation: he sits right down where he is and tries to manage the input.

[ID: Daredevil is sitting cross-legged on a rooftop, surrounded by sound effects and snippets of dialogue.]

Uni-Power: “Do not be afraid, Matthew Murdock. I am known as the--”

Matt: “Quiet! Please, I need to concentrate.”

[ID: Time passes, the sun drops toward the horizon behind him, and gradually the sounds fade.]

Captain Universe #2 by Jay Faerber, Juan Santacruz, and Rus Wooton

    While Matt doesn’t meditate on-panel all that often, he does do other things that could be considered meditative. There are many different ways to enter that calm mental state, and one method is through mindless, repetitive action. We often see Matt working out, doing acrobatics or punching a heavy bag. Obviously he does this because being in-shape is important to him and he enjoys it, but it also seems to help him think (in Volume 3 #35, Matt mentions that he’s mentally at his sharpest when he’s sparring, and I’d say the continuity bears that out) and also helps him relax/focus. Even his Daredevilling might serve this purpose for him. We know that in addition to pure superhero work, he also swings around the city for fun and for his mental health, and he’s so good at it that I could imagine him managing to get into a zenlike state. It wouldn’t be the safest way to meditate, but this is Matt we’re talking about. 

    If you’re asking about the actual mental process Matt goes through in his meditation, I can’t think of an occasion where we’ve been given that kind of detailed information. It usually involves clearing your mind or focusing on one specific thing to the exclusion of all else, and I haven’t seen any evidence to suggest Matt does it differently-- though presumably it involves an extra element of tuning out all of that additional sensory information, which is fascinating to think about. 

[imgoingtohellsofuckit]

Cocky Hero pt 2

I didn’t want to make this a series but I’m in love with Hawks soo here ya go

Hawks x Reader 

Warnings - alcohol use, mentions of abuse (mention no descriptions or anything and its very brief) 

Summary - Hawks can’t get you out of his head, lucky for him you can’t get him out of yours either

So there you are, waking up in the number two heroes bed. You're fancy gown from the party on the ground and makeup all smeared off. You look over to see Hawks holding onto you tightly. For someone so keen on hookups your surprised he's still holding onto you. Or even that you're still in his bed with him. You move pulling from his arms grabbing your clothes from the ground making your way through the room over to the bathroom.

"Oh man he really doesn't hold back," You say as you look at the deep purple marks along your neck. You sigh lightly. Deciding not to worry about it as you wipe away your makeup and pull your clothes from last night on.

"You want something more comfortable?" You hear from the door. You look to see Hawks smiling lightly as he watches you.

"Depends on what you're gonna put me in," You say.

"My clothes," He smirks. You roll your eyes deciding to look back to the mirror. "I'll grab you a hoodie at least."

"Fine," You say.

He moves pulling away from the door frame to his room. Returning a couple seconds later with a black hoodie.

"Thanks," You say as you pull it over you dress, "I'll call a cab. I've got to get to my house before I go into the office. I'll get this cleaned and mail it back-"

"Nah keep it," Hawks says, "you look better in it anyways."

"I can't keep your clothes Hawks," You say looking to him, "I'll just have an intern drop it off to your agency."

"You're not even gonna drop it off man thats cold," Hawks says.

"Did you get attached?" You say with a smirk.

"Attached? No more like I'm not used to not being the one in control," He says, "every other girl wants me to fly them home and to keep my clothes. Thinking it'll pull me back in ya know."

"I'm not like those girls Hawks," You say, "I have my own game. And I simply play it better than you."

"Do you now?" He asks.

"I guess that's for you to figure out," You say, "now if you'll excuse me I have to get ready for work." You grab your purse then instead of calling a taxi you just place your hand against the wall. Hawks watches carefully. Your quirk. It's portal something pretty cool. When he first heard about it the first time he met you he thought it was one of the neatest quirks he's seen. Making a portal you could move through going anywhere you need. He was surprised you never went into the hero career with a quirk like that. "Try not to miss me too much," You say looking back to Hawks.

"I have a feeling you should worry about your self," He says.

"Sure Hawks," You say before stepping through the portal. It closes leaving Hawks alone. He chuckles lightly.

"Shes... different," He says softly, "man I need to get ready."

So while Hawks was running around to get ready to meet up with Dabi and the League to work out that situation. You were getting ready at your own quick pace. Using that long distance portal exhausted your quirk meaning you wouldn't be able to use it to get to work. Which is fine you've travelled everyway to work so it won't be too much of a pain but still. You could push a bit and use your quirk... it's irresponsible but... it's better time management. You cave using a second portal to pop into her office.

"Wow you're here early," Impression says, "especially considering your company last night."

"Didn't I hear whispering that you went home with MT Lady?" You shoot back, "you have no room to talk." Impression chuckles.

"Sure I have no room to talk but I'm going to anyways," He says, "Hawks is such a man whore. I'm surprised you went home with him. I mean you had plenty of people all over you."

"Yeah but you didn't feel the energy between them," Kami says, "the sexual tension was suffocating. I thought I was gonna die."

You roll your eyes at the comment.

"Besides we all know that every single one of these events we've been invited to Hawks finds himself at her side," Kami says, "he either is in love with you or super attracted to you."

"Anyways," You say moving to your desk to pull out everything for today, "we have a lot of work to do... Kami you are missing about 13 accident reports, Impression you have been asked to speak at UA about hero etiquette to the first years. Have either of you seen Mimica? Because he misfiled a report and I had to track it down at the commission and redo the entire thing."

They knew it was time to work So the Hawks topic dropped and everyone focused on their own matters. Soon the day was over releasing them to their own lives. The others left but you remained back. As always you're gonna be the last to leave. Always needing to finish that last thing before you could go home. When you finally stepped outside onto the street in the thick dark of the night you regretted the extra portal this morning.

"Hey you need a ride?"

You turn to see blond locks and crimson wings. Hawks. But what is he doing here?

"No I was gonna take the train home," You share.

"Nah a pretty lady like you shouldn't be on the train," He says, "let me fly you home."

"I couldn't ask you to do that," You say, "seriously it's no big deal I ride the train all the time."

"I'm offering," He says, "come on what do you have to lose?"

You think for a second. What do you have to lose? You start to step towards him. But instead give him a smirk. Then you press your hand against the wall. A portal to your apartment pops up. You're definitely feeling the overuse but honestly to mess with this cocky bastard it's worth it.

"You're right I shouldn't use the train," You say, "well goodnight Hawks."

"Wait-"

You step inside before he can say anything else.

He looks back at the wall you just walked through.

"Man she's gone," He says, "thats a shame. I wanted to talk to her. Oh well."

Back at your house you collapse on your couch. Clearly exhausted. You see something on your couch and smile lightly. It's the hoodie Hawks lent you. You move grabbing it. It's super soft and it smells like his apartment. That woodsy scent that was all nice and piney.

My phone buzzes. I pull it from my pocket to see an unknown number.

Unknown- Impression gave me your number

                     It took a lot of convincing  

                    A lot

Y/n - Who is this?

Unknown - Oh guess I should of said that

                      It's Hawks

                     Number 2 hero

Y/n - Why do you have my number?

Unknown - Had to know if you go home safely

Y/n - You shouldn't worry about me I'm stronger than your giving me credit for

Unknown - Remind me not to underestimate you.

                     Pretty and talented.

                      What's it like being perfect?

Y/n - It's adorable that you think I'm perfect but even I have my flaws

Unknown - likww what/?

                      augh

                      ugh sorrry harsd to tyep whjike

                     caan io vcaall you;

Y/n - I'm a really busy gal I don't know if I have the time

Unknown -  :(

Y/n - You have five minutes" make it count

Unknown - :)

He doesn't hesitate. You move answering the call.

"Hello beautiful," He says. I can hear the smirk in his voice. "Miss me?"

"Not really," You answer.

"Wow brutal," He says, "is that how you handle all the trolls online? Or those bitchy reporters?"

"I take them down with more force," You reply, "swift, forceful."

"Mmm so you like fast and forceful?" He asks. You roll your eyes.

"Yeah you wish," You say, "can't last long enough can you?"

"Wanna test that?" He says, "I'm sure I'll make it worthwhile."

"You said that last time."

"And I kept my promise didn't I?" He asks.

"Sure," You reply, "if that's what you want to hear."

"Oh come on you seemed to like it last night~" He teases, "I mean come on I had you moaning so loud. It's a good thing I don't have any neighbors."

"You ever hear of faking it?"

"Don't mock me like that," He says, "you know I'm fragile."

"You are anything but fragile," You say, "by the way you have 3 minutes."

"Oh you're really timing me?" He asks, "you're brutal. How am I supposed to make you fall in love with me if you won't play along."

"Fall for you? Is that what you think is gonna happen?" You ask.

"Not if you don't play along," He pouts, "come on what is it that makes you not want to fall for me? I mean I'm hot. I'm good in bed. I admire the fact you are also hot and good in bed."

"Sorry Hawks but I don't fall in love like that," You shrug, "besides your not my type."

"What?" He asks, "how am I not your type. You slept with me. Aren't you like attracted to me."

"Physically," You cut him off, "but romantically you aren't the type I go for."

"What do you go for?"

"Mm hold that thought for another day Hawks... you are out of time," You smirk.

"What? No way!" He exclaims, "you're really gonna leave right now?"

"Sorry I'm a busy gal," You say, "try again another day~"

You end the call before you can say anything else. While you were entertained with your game deciding to move to your night time routine. Poor Hawks on the other hand was staring at your number clearly frustrated with you taking his chance from him. It's his game. He isn't the one who gets played. He's the player!

"She's so cheeky," He says softly, "well guess I have to just try harder."

And so his new mission is set.

"Impression I need those reports asap," You say looking firmly at the pro, "you're behind as it is and I need you to look at the kids from the sports festival. You know internships are important for rising heroes to bring attention to the agency so you want to bring in a few kids to work with."

"I hate to interrupt," Kami says approaching me, "but something came for you."  You look over at her to see her holding a bouquet full of flowers. Roses.

"You hookup with someone last night?" Impression asks, "because they seem to be a bit of a simp."

"Not a hookup just a parasite," You say taking the flowers from her. You look at the card and your suspicions are confirmed.

Hey beautiful, you aren't playing the game right  - Hawks

"Who's it from?" Impression asks. You show him the card and he just chuckles lightly. "Well now you'll know not to mess with guys like him." You sigh as you move to your desk. You place them carefully in the vase as the two heroes look at me.

"Is he just too attached or is it something?" Kami asks.

"He's trying to play my game," You say simply, "he wants me to fall for him. I want him to fall for me. He wants to be the player, I want to be the heart breaker."

"Two players hookup and now one of them has to finally lose," Kami says, "that's so fanfic. I love it."

"At least it makes my game more interesting," You say. You pull your phone out and send on message to the man.

Y/n - I like daisies more

Kami leans over my shoulder to see the message and smirks lightly.

"Wow you really are just playing him like a violin," She says, "that's exciting."

"Exciting or not it's my personal life and we are still on the clock. So back to what I was saying and Kami this involves you. Pick out the kids you want extend offers to by tonight so I can call the schools to set everything up. Alright?"

"Yes Ma'am," Impression says, "I'll get right on that."

"Yep," Kami says.

As they move off I sit down at my desk to start on my reports. I get through about half when my phone starts to buzz against the desk. I look down to see Hawks messaged me back.

Hawks - Do I at least get points for trying?

Y/n - No

Hawks - boo

                ur making the game hard

Y/n - you don't have to play we could just return to our normal lives

Hawks - You don't want to play?

                  :(

Y/n - I'll admit that I'm enjoying this game. It's harder this way. Which makes it so much more fun...

Hawks - Then it's settled we have to finish the game.

Y/n - Sounds good to me

        I can't wait to win

Hawks - Well look who sounds cocky now

Y/n - I have to get back to work

        Besides I'm sure you have to as well

Hawks - boo

You decide to put your phone away and go back to the reports. At the end of your shift Kami waves you down to to invite you to a club. You accept. Walking closely with her and a couple of the sidekicks. It's a impromptu girls night apparently. She had gathered a bunch of the ladies in the office and dragged you all into a club to unwind.

You swirl the vodka and redbull mix as you look over at her.

"Do you want to settle down?" She asks me.

"Settle down?" You ask, "no I really don't. I want to enjoy my youth not worry about some girl or guy that's also trying to figure their life out."

"What about that Edgeshot?" She offers, "you've slept with him a bunch and you said you like him."

"I like him the same way you like that booty call you keep going back to," You correct, "it's physical but he's boring. I want someone who's fun and hot. Someone who can keep up with me."

"Who does that sound like?" She asks.

"No one," You chuckle, "if I met someone like that I'd eat them right up." I sip my drink as she glares lightly at me.

"Okay okay so you don't want to settle down," She says, "you want this picture perfect person first try. Do you think we live in a fairy tale?"

"No," You say honestly, "but I know I don't want to date anyone until I find someone who sticks out. Someone who sees me as more than a pretty face ya know? Like okay take the guys I hook up with. They are fun and attractive. But they don't want the emotional stuff. Which is fine cause they are hookups. But if I wanted something real. Something long term. I'd want this person to connect with me on a spiritual level. Match my fast life ya know."

"You're too picky," She slurs.

"You're too boring," You say, "okay- as fun as this girls night is... I'm bored. Soooo how about bow tie over there?"

"You gonna take him home?"

"If he'll have me," You smirk. You stand flipping your skirt up to make it just a bit shorter then ruffle your hair lighter. "Okay how do I look?"

"Hot," She says. You nod.

"Perfect now come dance with me," You say. You take her hand dragging her to the dance floor. As the fast pace song comes on the two of you moving dancing together. Doing pretty much everything to draw attention of the guys scouting for a hook up. Some guy moves offering to by Kami a drink leaving you dancing with one of the sidekicks. Suddenly you feel a finger tap on your shoulder. You turn to see a familiar face. But it's completely out of place. "Hawks? What are you doing here?"

"You texted me," He says, "'come to Veil I need someone to party with'"

"That sneaky bitch," You say softly.

"What?" He asks.

"My coworker texted you," You explain, "she loves to meddle you know."

"So I was pulled into something?" He asks, "I can't believe I'm being used. What a shame I was super excited to see you cave. And well to see you like this." You chuckle lightly.

"Well if you're already here... I guess it wouldn't hurt for you to buy me a drink," You suggest. He chuckles.

"Well I'm not opposed to spending time with you," He says, "come on."

You lead him to the bar. Each of you order your drink then he hands his card over.

"You party on weekdays often?" He asks me.

"Only when someone else suggests it," You answer, "I'm not going to be the one who leads the decision but I will gladly take advantage of the chance. Do you normally send roses to girls you hookup with?"

"I hate to admit it but you're the first," he says, "you're the only one playing the long game. You'll take a bit more work."

"Will I?" You ask, "mother always said I was high maintenance."

"Really?"

"Oh yeah I always had to have the best growing up," You tell him, "you know I attended UA? It was for General Studies sure but still. And I went to UA's college."

"Wow flashy school," He says.

"Yeah well I had to get in even if it wasn't to be a hero," You share, "it was the best. My mother wasn't a fan on the fancy private school price tho."

"I can imagine," He says, "what does your mother do?"

"She was a baker," You tell him, "she passed my last year of high school."

"I'm sorry for your loss," He says softly.

"It's in the past," You say, "what about you?"

"My parents they aren't around," He says.

"I'm sorry," You say.

"Don't be," He says, "sometimes thats better."

"I get what you mean," You tell him, "pops ran out on my mom and I when I was in middle school. He was the worst. Alcoholic who beat on my mom and I. He died last year. And somehow to me thats better than having him alive."

"Ah tragic origin stories," Hawks says, "they really bread some great people."

"I know," You say, "cheers to that." You both clink your drinks together. You chug as much as you can. Hawks is slightly taken back but quickly moves to keep up. You set down the empty class and look back to him. "Come dance with me."

"Of course beautiful," he says smirking. You move dragging him onto the dance floor. Dancing to the fast song. He's all smiles as he watches you move. He can't tell if its the alcohol or if you are just that care free. But watching you move like you were the only person in the room was hypnotic.

After a couple songs he can't hold it back anymore.

"I hate to break the mood but- you're really making it hard for me to hold back," He groans.

"My place is down the street," You tell him, "one portal and we can be there in a flash."

"I'd like that very much," He says. You move taking his hand and leading him towards the wall. You place your hand on the wall and the portal opens.

"Last chance to back out," You tell him.

"I don't back out," He says. You smirk.

"Good," You say pulling him through the portal to your home.

[quicksilverlightning]

The All Might Fan Forum Discussion Board

 ALL MIGHT FAN FORUM

General Discussion All Might Battles Meeting All Might     Rescued by All Might     All Might Encounters     >Small Might Encounters (New!) Fanart and Fanfiction

CaptainCelb09 So, I've met All Might before. I just didn't know it was him.

It wasn't a big deal or anything - I tripped walking home one day and this really tall skinny guy stopped to make sure I was okay. I was embarrassed someone saw me and brushed him off, practically ran away. Now I'm sitting here with my face on fire cause I tripped in front of ALL MIGHT and he tried to help me up and akslhsdfouashefgoawu I cannot fucking believe this I should have taken his hand

070809 Pudding Cups

Time - 6:53 PM

Scene - Shofu Park

Your Narrator - crying on a bench

My girlfriend had just broken up with me. Through text. Like, ouch, right? Anyway.

I'm just kinda staring at my phone, blurry eyed, kicking at maple leaves, wishing I could text her back cause she just blocked my number when this tall blond guy shuffles up and takes a seat at the other end of the bench. Doesn't say anything, just sits, placing his grocery bag beside him. It's a public park, whatever right?

I'm wiping my eyes, putting my phone back in my pocket and suddenly there's this white thing in front of me - blond guy is offering me a napkin, Still doesn't say anything, just smiles a little. I take it and wipe my eyes, blow my nose, try to get it together cause apparently I look bad enough that this complete stranger is worried about me. I'm stuffing the napkin in a pocket when he holds something else out - a chocolate pudding cup, one of those with the little spoons in the lid.

I'm kinda like wha? but take it anyway and he takes another one out of his bag, he's got a six pack of them in there, and he tears off the lid and starts snacking and I do the same cause fuck it, right? I eat the whole thing and he gives me another one, like we're old friends or something and I'm halfway through it when he finally speaks.

"Bad day?"

And I can't help but laugh. It's so dumb. I'm single and heartbroken and eating pudding cups with this stranger on a public park bench as it gets dark and I don't know what to feel anymore. I tell him what happened and we eat the whole six pack together, shootin' the shit until the street lights come on. He calls me "young man" and claps me on the shoulder and it's so dumb but it cheered me up. He puts all the trash back into the bag and tosses it in the bin and tells me he needs to get going and hell, I do too.

I didn't even get his name. I thought about that encounter a lot though. I have a new girlfriend and she's great. We were together when All Might's last battle happened, watching everything go down on the TV at a bar and we're all losing our shit and I lose it even harder when the smoke clears cause that's the guy I ate pudding cups with what the hell

The last three years, any time I'm having a bad day, I go to the store and get some chocolate pudding cups. Whenever the world was just a shitty place, I'd think about that blond guy, shuffling through the park and making things better as he went along.

And I guess it figures that man would turn out to be All Might, cause that's what All Might has always done - moved forward and made things better.

spite-and-aesthetic my dumbass cat

small might plucked my stupid cat out of a tree wtf kinda cliche is this guy

AM_FAN0112 i cannot BELIEVE

TWO YEARS. TWO FUCKING YEARS ALL MIGHT HAS BEEN COMING INTO MY SHOP ARE YOU SERIOUS WHAT THE ACTUAL HELL TOSHINORI

I'M DEADASS SERIOUS HE COMES IN EVERY FEW WEEKS AND BUYS A BOOK AND SOMETIMES WE CHAT ABOUT MANGA AND HE ALWAYS ASKS HOW SCHOOL IS GOING AND HELPS WITH MY ENGLISH HES SO NICE AND TOLD ME TO CALL HIM TOSHINORI IS THAT HIS REAL NAME?? A CODENAME?

I GOT HIM HOOKED ON SUGAR SUGAR CAT CAFE ITS THE DUMBEST SYRUPY SHOUJO ROMANCE AND WEVE BEEN READING IT TOGETHER FOR OVER A YEAR WHAT IS MY LIFE

Sexi-tery Long post is long

Lemme set the scene; it's raining buckets, and I'm on my way to a job interview in the ritzier part of town. I've got my best clothes on - nice, crisp suit jacket, smart-looking skirt, a decent-but-could-be-shinier pair of heels. I've just left lunch with a friend and I've got an hour before the most important interview of my life.

That's when a bus rolls by and drenches me in the greasy puddle-water of downtown Tokyo.

Y'all, I was trying not to hyperventilate. I don't have time to go home and change. Even if I did, these were my best clothes. I'm screwed, no one is going to hire me looking like a sopping mess, *I* wouldn't hire me looking like this whatdoIdo

Someone picks up my umbrella. I didn't even realize I'd dropped it. I'm still freaking out. Someone is pulling me, I'm not even on this planet right now, someone is talking to me, I have an interview, where are my anxiety meds?

There's this blond guy hunched over, trying to bring me back down, telling me to breathe, calm down, you'll be okay. He's breathing with me and it's working and I think I might be crying but my face is so wet I can't tell.

He gets the story out of me once I'm back on planet Earth, and gets this determined look on his face. Drags me across the street into a clothing store. A really, really nice clothing store. Outta-my-budget, outta-my-lifetime sort of clothing store. Pushes me to the racks, tells me to pick out whatever I want.

I don't even question it - I may be back on Earth, but I'm still in the upper atmosphere somewhere. I grab a few things to take to the dressing room and fit myself into an extremely nice pantsuit. An attendant comes in to help, gets the tags off so I can wear the clothes out, bags my soaking wet puddle of fabric and blond guy pays for it all without even blinking.

He leads me back out, hails a cab, and I'm like, what now? And we pull up to a salon and he gets my hair dried and done, I KNOW he must have tipped the hairdresser a crazy amount to get me in and out that quickly, and the cab is idling outside the whole time, waiting to take me to my interview when we're done. All the while, blond guy is smiling, cracking jokes, and just being all-around charming. I'm wondering what I'm going to owe for this, what he wants, maybe he's some sort of creeper? But he seems so nice?

And when we're done, he prods me over to the cab, but doesn't get in. Doesn't ask for anything, just wishes me good luck. Like, who even is this guy? Who does all that for a total stranger?

All Might, that's who. Holy crap you guys, All Might got me to my interview on time and it's the best job I've ever had. I'd still be pushing pencils in a miserable office if he hadn't been there that day.

 Kirasagwa74

A train ride

I remember a time before All Might. I remember when the Yakuza worked out in the open and villains took what they wanted without fear.

I'm old, is what I'm saying. These bones ache and creak every time the weather even thinks about changing. I don't complain too much; I'm used to it. I'm used to being out of the loop and lost in the shuffle. It's alright - I have my routines and I stick to 'em.

One of them is riding the train to a favorite cafe. They have an excellent coffee blend. I've seen All Might on that train many times, though I never knew it was him until a little while ago. He's a good man with kind eyes. If it was crowded, he would let me have his seat. Chat about the good ol' days, heroes from another generation. I haven't seen him on the train in a while. I miss him.

SingleSuperMom31 Carried Home

This was pretty recent - just a few months ago. Long post up ahead.

Context: I'm a single mom. My ex didn't want kids, so I've raised Aya by myself. It's been a little difficult lately thanks to a broken arm, but I've managed.

Anyway, I took Aya to a local park a few months ago. It's a few minutes walk from the apartment, and I wanted to grab some things from the store anyway, so I took her out to let her burn off some energy. Her Quirk is Photosynthesis, so she has a lot of it!

When we get there, the first thing Aya wants to do is get on the swings. She's almost three and my arm is broken - I don't want to put her in a regular swing in case she falls, so I'm trying to maneuver her into one of the strapped swings with one arm. Aya isn't heavy, but I'm still struggling to manage when a thin man with blond hair walks up.

"Ma'am? Would you like some help?"

He's tall, super super tall, and gaunt, but he has a kind smile. Aya likes him right away and helps her into the swing and pushes her a little while she screams to go higher.

He was so, so nice to my little girl. He let her call him Toshi and played with her for over an hour, lifting her on the monkey bars and holding her hands on the balance beam since I couldn't manage it at the moment. He sits with me when some other children come to play, and we talk a while, about Aya, about how my arm got broken (it's quite a story), about being a single parent.

It's hard, you know? I love my kid, I'd die for her, but it's still hard, and it's even harder with this arm. He was just so nice - he had this presence, like you could tell him anything and I did. I told him about my ex, that he left, that he didn't want to be a part of Aya's life. You could tell he was really listening, not just being polite. I've gotten a little teared up, and he just smiles and pulls a handkerchief out of his pocket. He's quiet for a little bit, watching the kids play. Then he turns back to me, and I know I'll remember this for the rest of my life, word for word -

"I don't have any family of my own, so perhaps it doesn't mean much coming from me," he looks a little awkward. "But for what's it's worth, I think you're doing a fine job. One day, Aya will be old enough to appreciate what a strong, lovely mother she has."

Aya sees me crying and comes rushing over, hugging my knees and I'm a mess and maybe a little bit in love. He's just so kind and Aya has crawled into my lap and hugs my neck. It's sunset, so her Quirk is finally slowing down and she falls asleep while I'm still reeling over the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me.

I'm apologizing, it's late, I still haven't gone to the store, Aya is asleep on my lap and I'm trying to figure out how I'm gonna get her home with this broken arm and he offers to walk us home. He lifts Aya up and puts her head on his shoulder and I know she's drooling a bit, but it doesn't seem to bother him. He radiates this goodness and warmth and safety; I don't even hesitate to invite him in for a cup of tea. He comes in long enough to put Aya on the couch, but doesn't stay. He wished us both well, and that was it. I took Aya to the park every day that week, hoping to see him again, but I didn't.

Until two weeks ago - I was making dinner and Aya was watching cartoons. I thought it was cartoons anway, when she yells -

"Mommy! That's the man who carried me home!"

And that's definitely him, there's no mistaking it. I shouldn't be letting a three year old watch this, but I can't look away either. All Might played with my Aya. All Might told me I was a good mother. All Might carried my daughter home. All Might is fighting for his life on my television right now.

I didn't know what love was until I held Aya in my arms. I didn't know what heroism was either, not until that night. Not until I connected two people together and realized they were the same person. I didn't know what a hero was until I realized that "hero" wasn't a title All Might put on and took off, it's something he IS, 24/7, on and off the clock. I'd live the rest of my life with a broken arm if I could have half of the strength and kindness that exists in this man, if I could be even a fraction of the person he is.

I think about him every day. I got an All Might keychain, so I'd always have something close by to remind me that heroism isn't always about punching villains and holding up buildings; sometimes, heroism is about talking to a stranger. Sometimes, heroism is about pushing a swing.

Sometimes, heroism is about carrying a little girl home.

[twoblueheartslocked]

Seblaine Para- Present Day(Early February)

Para: Kiss Me On The Mouth and Set Me Free

Rating: PG-13.

Pairing: Seblaine.

Sebastian: @colorsicantsee

Blaine: @twoblueheartslocked

Time: Present Day- Early February, Friday. About one month after- (Hold Onto the Memories, They’ll Hold Onto You)

Location: Brooklyn, New York

Info: Sebastian asks Blaine to let him take him on a real date. Blaine can’t help but let his insecurities get to him. Sebastian opens up about his past and Blaine makes a little progress. The two of them get closer.

Warnings: Mentions of abuse(Physical, mental and some sexual), anxiety, depression, drug use, alcohol use, cussing, death(parents).

Extra Warnings: (This RP is not Kurt Hummel friendly. You’ve all been warned.)

Notes: Some canon events remain in place while others have been changed. Some things may even be out of order. You can consider this sort of canon divergent AU. A few changes are that Blaine’s parents are different from the show (His mother is Filipina), he didn’t cheat on Kurt or date Dave and Sebastian is younger than Blaine. Feel free to send a message if you have any questions!

Extra Notes: Under Cut because of length and sensitive content.

Blaine’s POV:

Blaine stared at himself in his little bathroom mirror, his fingers trying to bring some life into his dark curls. He’d gotten a haircut hoping the shortness on the sides would help, but he was still unsatisfied. It seemed, to him, that no matter what he did with himself he always looked like he was about to fall over from exhaustion. Maybe because you’re exhausted, Blaine. You’ve done nothing but work, school and then work some more with a little side of anxiously waiting for your phone to go off so you can maybe talk to Sebastian.  If you’d just let yourself sleep longer than four hours and stop fighting your medication and perhaps let it do its job then maybe, just maybe, you'd look like a fucking human being for your first date in well over a year.

He huffed at himself before turning away, sick of looking at his face. He and Kurt had been broken up for over eight and a half or so months now, since May the year before and Blaine hadn't been on a proper date in… over a year and a half. Things just sort of stopped with Kurt- dates, kissing, sex- (which he supposed he was fine with even though he would have taken any gentle touch he could get at the time) everything stopped except the ridicule and the bruises, that is. Needless to say, Blaine didn’t know how to do this anymore. And this was Sebastian. Someone he used to be so goddamn comfortable with. And now? He didn’t know if he even knew how to kiss properly without feeling shame and god, he couldn’t even imagine sex. Would Sebastian want that now? Would he be able and willing to wait? Blaine was human, of course, and the thought of Sebastian still made his heart race and his skin feel itchy with so much desire, but every time he thought about it he became clammy and panicky and he froze up. It didn’t help that he thought about it often and in turn got upset about it just as much.

He wanted nothing more than to impress the other man, to show him that he was still someone important, someone that he could maybe love again (had Seb ever?) or even just spend time with. Someone worthy. But, looking in the mirror, he didn’t feel like that person. He felt stupid and desperate for attention from Sebastian and he wondered if maybe he should cancel before he made a fool of himself… He could picture Sebastian’s faelike face when he got the text; he’d bite his bottom lip and pretend he was fine and throw himself into school work or go out anyway but Blaine knew it would upset him. He sighed because he didn’t want to cancel, he wanted to see Sebastian so bad. So made his way to his tiny bedroom, sat on his bed and opened his small nightstand. He found his anti-anxiety med and forced himself to take a half of one with the bottle of water he kept next to his bed. He didn’t want to take it all because of how drowsy it made him, but he knew that if he didn’t he might regret it. He could do this. He could date again. Besides, it was Sebastian. The boy he’d loved so fucking much in such a short time. Blaine could be good enough for him. Right?

He huffed, annoyed with himself, and shook his head before running his hand down his face. He was tired of worrying and second guessing himself. He pulled his phone from his pocket; 5:23pm. He took a deep breath and stood up, looking down at himself and just hoping that his soft, fitted, heather black sweater, one he’d spent too much money on paired with his nicest jeans was good enough the place they were going. He didn’t feel as if it were but… He turned and got into his closet nook for his pea coat. He might as well get some fresh air while he waited the last few minutes, maybe the chill would calm him down. A mix of excitement and pure nerves went through him as he waited wondering which car was Seb’s.

Breathe in, breathe out. You’ve got this, Blaine.

Sebastian’s POV:

Sebastian hoped that Blaine wouldn’t cancel. Of course, he would understand if he had to, Blaine had told him a little bit about his past.  He would be upset and he would probably make a terrible decision to hide from the creeping feeling of sadness and disappointment but he would understand. Blaine hadn’t canceled yet, though and it gave him the little thread of hope that he needed. Sebastian planned everything perfectly, he thought it might help the other man feel a little less anxious. He had made reservations at the Sushi place and secured a driver for the evening so that they didn’t have to rely on Uber  or cabs(he figured he shouldn’t take his own car out in case he drank too much which he was wont to do these past few years.)  As long as traffic was on his side, everything would run smoothly. 

He blared music as he got ready and kept finding himself smiling. He took a long shower (though he was sure nothing physical would happen), obsessed over his hair in the mirror (his perfectly imperfect swoop of bangs), picked out his most expensive cologne (Fucking fabulous by Tom Ford), and stood in his walk in closet trying on different outfits a little longer than he would ever admit. He settled on a dark blue button up shirt with the sleeves rolled up and dark cuffed jeans with his classic, clean white Vans. Sebastian wanted to look his best but also didn’t want to come across that he was trying as hard as he was. He added a silver watch to the look and obsessively lint rolled his shirt before one more spray of cologne.  He threw on a grey wool jacket and grabbed his wallet and decided that he was finally ready. 

Sebastian smoked a cigarette before the car arrived so that he wouldn’t drag the smell of smoke along with him. He thought he vaguely remembered Blaine liking the scent but second guessed himself, it had been such a long time ago. His mind was giddy with the excitement of ‘what ifs’ but he couldn’t fight the nervous tug that sat inside of his belly.  Seb wanted this to go well, no, he needed this to go well. He needed Blaine to trust him again and he needed to prove his patience. 

The car pulled up to the curb on Blaine’s apartment and of course he was standing outside waiting. Sebastian rolled down the window and admired Blaine for a second because he always looked so lovely with his big eyes and curls and fitted clothing.  He jumped out of the car to open the door for him.

“Hey B! Hop in.”

Blaine’s POV:

Blaine’s heart and stomach fluttered when Sebastian stepped out of the car and opened the door for him. He looked so damn good in blue (it brought out the little blue flecks in his green eyes) that Blaine forgot for a moment that he needed to move to get into the car and he blushed as he got in. And when Seb scooted in after him, sitting close, a  ghost of his former smile found its way to his face and his breath caught in his throat as a whiff of Seb’s scent washed over him. Sebastian smelled like an intoxicating mix of flowers and leather and of course, the smoke that seemed to faintly follow the other man around. They had met up in person a few times over the last month but each time Blaine felt more and more out of sorts around the other man and sitting next to him in the back of the car, close and with nowhere else to go, Blaine simultaneously felt excitement and fear as they made their way towards the restaurant. He wanted to scoot closer and lean into Seb so he could just breathe him in and rest his cheek against his shoulder like he’d done when they were young but he also felt like maybe he didn’t deserve to be able to do that. 

Sebastian was here, and he’d been so sweet and patient and what the hell had Blaine done to deserve any of that? He’d broken his heart and now Sebastian was acting like Blaine was worth all of this when really he ought to drop him. And again Blaine wondered if maybe this was all a big joke at his expense. That maybe Seb might take him out a few times and get him attached and needy and happy and then he’d laugh and tell him to fuck off…

Blaine made himself take a deep steadying breath. Stop it, Blaine. This is Sebastian, not Kurt. He wouldn’t do that to you. He’s always been good to you, always treated you like you were worthy, and he’s already forgiven you for what you did. He’s already told you he wants you in his life and that he would have dropped everything to help you. Let him do this. Let him make you feel worthy even if you don’t feel that way. He swallowed and looked up at Seb as they rode. His ghost of a smile slipping back over his lips as he bravely reached out and touched the back of Seb’s hand, letting his fingers cover and then gently squeeze the hand that had once been his to hold whenever he wanted. He practically ached with the memory of the first time he’d reached for it.

“I’m really happy I get to spend the evening with you.” His words were soft and just the simple touch was doing something to him and he wanted to link their fingers like they had a couple of weeks ago on his couch but he refrained and let his hand slide away, tucking it under his thigh as if to keep it warm.

The driver was good and they made it to the restaurant in record time. It was a sleek place with a minimalist setting that offered semi intimate seating for a higher price, which of course Seb had paid for leaving them tucked in a little nook. The prices were making Blaine's mind race and he could feel the panic rise up in him as he looked the menu over and tried to find the cheapest thing. He had to take a deep breath and remind himself that Sebastian wouldn’t have picked it if he didn’t know what the prices were. And what's more, he wouldn't have asked Blaine out if he didn’t want to treat him to something nice. He was pulled from his racing thoughts as the server asked them what they wanted to drink. He asked for green tea and nodded when asked about Sake because Sebastian wanted it and Blaine wasn’t going to tell him he didn’t know if he should drink or not because he had just taken his medicine but surely a few sips wouldn’t hurt him. 

He spent a good five minutes wracked his brain on what he could order, honestly it all looked incredible, but his nerves and his memories of harsh words about what he would eat wouldn’t stop and finally he just looked up at Seb and let out a little laugh and a shrug.

“I have no clue what to order. I haven’t been out for sushi in such a long time… Maybe Miso first and,” He paused and looked up at Sebastian for his question, his eyes wide. “Do you think, well, do you think we could do one of those meals, you know, um- where they pick it for you?” He wracked his brain trying to remember the damn word, and why the hell couldn't he get through a sentence without stumbling over himself like he’d never spoken before. He swallowed and bit his lip. “I think it’s called Omakase?” His eyes found the option on the menu and then his heart sank because it was too expensive and why had he suggested that? He went from looking for the cheapest thing to blurting out the most expensive. He blushed as he looked down to hide it and shook his head.

“Oh- I, well, maybe not. I forgot how expensive it is and how long it takes to do. ” He worried his bottom lip, trying to find something else. He knew it was silly to be daunted by a simple, small menu, but fifteen or so options suddenly felt like five hundred and he wanted this date to go well so badly. He shifted in his seat and took another steadying breath as he tried to calm down. This is Sebastian, Blaine. You know him. You’ve seen him a few times over the last month, you don’t need to panic. He tried to tell himself this was just like the other three times they’d talked, but something about it was different. Maybe because Sebastian had put the word date on it and he felt like he was already failing at it. He tried again, determined to be a good date for Sebastian. He had promised Sebastian that he’d do better for him. That he’d try not to drag himself down all the time.

“Unless that’s something you’re actually interested in? The length of time doesn’t bother me.” He offered up a small smile and attempted something like flirting. “Besides, I don’t need to be anywhere else. My night is all yours.”

Sebastian’s POV:

Sebastian ordered a bottle of sake and sparkling water. He glanced up from his menu occasionally to look at Blaine as he scanned his own.  Seb liked to catch him in little moments like this, where he chewed on his bottom lip or tugged at his shirt sleeves or smiled to himself, moments where nobody else was looking were the moments that the other felt the most confident now. It used to be that he could see Blaine’s confidence so easily, how he carried it on his shoulders with his head held high. Now, there were tiny, tiny glimpses that would peak through when he made him laugh a little or blush. He was going to get that side of Blaine back, maybe it would take months or years but he’d do it. 

He looked up from his menu and nodded. “Let’s do it. Why not? You only live once, right?” Sebastian grinned and took a sip of his sake. God, he had missed Blaine smiling at him, looking at him, talking to him. Even just that small closed mouth smile was enough for his stomach to flip like he was 16 again. “All mine? I like the sound of that.” Sebastian wanted to brush his leg with his foot or touch his knee under the table but didn’t want to scare the other man away. “Could I touch you, B? Like, your calf or knee?” He hoped he didn’t sound creepy and fought the cringe that wanted to display itself all over his face. 

When their waitress came back Sebastian ordered two Miso soups, two ginger salads, vegetable dumplings and shrimp tempura to start with. He also asked if they could do the Omakase experience. Seb loved food but sometimes just forgot to eat because he was so busy with school or too tired from staying out too late or passed out on his floor, or even worse, somebody else’s bed. He figured that he and  especially Blaine deserved a big meal, deserved to feel lavish for a little bit. 

Sebastian looked around the restaurant.  It was very nice,  all dark wood and amber lighting and ornate floral arrangements. He always ended up in places like this, always picked at expensive plates if he were in the mood to eat and not just drink all of the place’s most expensive wine. “Remember when we used to go to McDonald’s at like, midnight for fries and shakes? I miss the little things like that.”

Blaine’s POV:

Blaine let out a little laugh- Sebastian had ordered all of this food on top of eight courses of the chefs choice and Blaine wasn’t sure how he was going to be able to eat it all. It simply wasn’t possible. But, Sebastian was smiling at him and he looked happy so who was Blaine to argue? Seb could take it all home with him if they didn’t finish it, and Blaine was sure they wouldn't. He nodded, his face heating up a bit at what he’d said. 

“Yeah, I mean, the night’s yours. I, uh- there’s no one else I’d rather be with.” He took a drink of his tea, hoping Sebastian wouldn’t notice the blush creeping up his neck and into his face. He swallowed hard at Sebastian’s question, not knowing what to say. His body wanted him to touch him, wanted him to let Sebastian take away everything he’d been through; the pain, the neglect, away with his slender fingers and capable lips, but his brain kept screaming at him that maybe the good touches would turn into bad ones, and maybe Sebastian was just as hateful as Kurt- he just hadn’t figured it out yet. He also wanted to just tell Seb that he could touch him whenever he wanted, wherever- but his mouth wouldn't let him. He had to tell himself that Sebastian wouldn't hurt him and he needed to believe it, but he was scared and he felt exposed. 

He had spent so long vying for attention and wanting to be touched gently or even roughly if it were asked for, that he would have taken it from Kurt if he had offered, but all he offered were sharp pinched fingers and nails and shoves and harsh hisses in his ears and all of that left marks he could still feel. And now Seb was here, offering him what he’d wanted and he was afraid to take it. Terrified to let it happen.  But, god, his heart wanted to just let it happen. He just wanted to cling to the love and desire he’d felt four years ago and remember how good he used to feel with Seb. He swallowed hard, his hands feeling clammy and heavy on the table. 

“I-.” He took a deep breath and nodded slowly, his jaw setting as he talked himself through the simple question.  He was in control now. Blaine got to say what happened to him. He had stood up for himself and he had taken his life back and now he got to choose how he lived it. He was in control…

“Yes, y-you can, but-.” He made sure to look directly at Seb as he spoke, making sure he heard him even though his voice was soft and a little unsure.  “Could you maybe warn me? Well, that sounds bad- I just mean maybe, um, make sure I can see your hands first before you do? I don’t know if that makes any damn sense but I feel like if I see you coming I might feel calmer.” He swallowed, trying to keep his tone even. “And my neck, I- want, well- maybe just ask about that or any touch from behind?” He hoped he wasn’t asking too much. But, Seb’s face was attentive and he looked like he was really trying to take everything in. “I want to try with you, okay?”

He blinked back the onslaught of emotion as courses of sushi and the like started to come in and he found himself smiling a little again at the memory of McDonald's. “Yeah, I remember how many strawberry shakes you drank over a five month period.” He shook his head as memories fell down between them. “Do you remember our nighttime rides where we’d pretend we didn’t know how to sing so we could shout the words of the music at the top of our lungs to the stars? And the way you looked in my sweatshirt, the competition one with my name on it? It used to thrill me to no end to see you in it, you know? God, I was so fucking happy...I-.” The guilt of feeling happiness over the months of their relationship started to creep in.

Suddenly then the bad memories came, the ones where after he’d spent the night naked and wrapped up in Seb having gotten their most intimate and Blaine was so close to telling him how he felt, only to come home to the most devastating news. A swell of sorrow threatened to take him down as he thought about all the bad memories and how their relationship had come falling down in the crash of a car that brought the loss of his most vital people and he almost let the sorrow take him. But, looking up at Sebs' open and beautiful face, the face that was giving him a second chance, forced Blaine to fight through it. He told himself he was allowed to remember things fondly, he didn’t need to feel guilty for having something pure and good once. It didn’t mean he missed his mom or dad any less. He could still smile. Loss and Kurt hadn’t taken it all away.

“I don’t remember ever getting that shirt back, by the way.” He thought about it for a moment and no, he really didn’t think he had. “I also remember that you used to steal cigarettes out of your mom’s purse and the way you’d try to hide the smell with too much cologne.” He couldn’t help but smile and found himself lost in each intricate bite, talking about the memories. “It never worked, and the forbidden smoke always followed you around like your own little bit of magic. Still does.” 

Before he knew it and hour had went by and Blaine had eaten too much, more than he had in months, and the mix of expensive food and the little sips of sake and the process of letting himself relive happy memories with someone that made him feel things had him feeling some type of way and he could feel the air on his teeth as he gave Sebastian a real smile.

“Do you treat all of your dates this good, Seb? God, I envy the boys that got to spend time with you over the last four years. I really do.”

Sebastian’s POV:

Sebastian nodded, “Yeah, of course. I can do that.” He lifted his hands and held them in front of himself so that Blaine could see them. “Just like this? Do you need to touch them first?”  Seb flexed his fingers and set them back in his lap. “We can try later? I think the food’s on the way.” He took a big swig of his sake and refilled his little ceramic cup. He hoped that he could muster the patience for this and that his self conscious demons didn’t make him run away or do something he’d regret because this was going to take time and he really wanted it. Sebastian knew himself and he tended to make bad decisions to keep himself from being happy or facing the fucking music. The music being Blaine and all of the unresolved shit between them. He was going to do this and he was going to be a good...well, they had never said boyfriend before but what were they now? What would they be? 

“ I loved that sweatshirt.” Sebastian popped a dumpling into his mouth and chewed thoughtfully. He had thrown the sweater away one night when he was heartbroken and teenaged which is one of the worst combos known to man. He really regretted doing that on cold nights when the ache of being Blaine-less hung heavy on his heart and he missed the smell of his cologne and hair gel and the taste of his cheap cherry chapstick. “I don’t have it anymore, I’m sorry.”  

Seb’s stomach dipped when Blaine spoke about the smoke. Blaine had a beautiful way with words where he wasn’t just trying to use lines or fake it, he really meant everything he said. His words always sounded poetic and fell gracefully into perfect little romantic sentences that always made Sebastian smile or roll his eyes playfully or just want to kiss the other man all over until he forgot all of the bad things Kurt had done to him. “I think I remember you being really into that. Are you still?” He bit his bottom lip and quirked his head. 

He could have choked on his water when Blaine mentioned ‘other boys’ in such a wistful way when there was nothing wistful or romantic or dreamy about the way Sebastian had been spending his time the last four years. The last four years had been filled with binging on alcohol and snorting things and passing out  in unknown places and making his mother cry and fucking men he didn’t even know the names of and kissing bartenders and asking strangers for lighters and getting drinks bought for him by married men and just being such a fucking loser in the midst of Parisian lights that he could hardly stand himself.

“This...is all just for you, B.” Sebastian shrugged his shoulders and fought the itch to order another bottle of alcohol to drown all of the words fighting to bubble up and spill all over their expensive meal. “There is absolutely nothing to envy.” He took a deep breath and looked around the restaurant. Thankfully they were in a private area. Seb figured that he should get it all out in the open. It was only fair, Blaine had been very open and vulnerable with him. “So, the truth is that I’ve been a fucking wreck. I, uh, ran off to Paris before I  even finished the school year after...everything.  I took a gap year because I was so fucked up all the time. There were...a few times that my mom had to come scrape me off of the fucking bathroom floor and Hunter had to come save me a few times,too.” 

Seb shrugged and pushed around a piece of tempura with a chopstick. “And the boys were just boys. I...I can’t remember like, half of them and I hate admitting that out loud. So, no. You don’t need to envy them or me. We both got stuck, B and it fucking sucks.” Sebastian lifted his hands so that Blaine could see them before he laid his hand on the table in case the other man wanted to hold it. “I wish more than anything that I had just...forgot myself enough to just be there for you.”

Blaine’s POV:

Blaine felt relief wash over him when Sebastian told him that he could do that, a small smile came to his face as the other man held hands up to show him that he meant what he said, he nodded wondering again if he was asking to much or he was being a little crazy, surely he could handle a sudden touch from someone he wanted to touch him, right? He was struck with a memory of Sam, after he’d been living in the apartment for a few months, coming to visit and clapping him on the back to show him that he thought it was ‘awesome that he’d moved to such a cool place’, he remembered the rush of panic and the way he’d frozen up and how many times Sam had, unnecessarily, apologized and he realized that no, it didn’t matter if he wanted to be touched, there had to be some structure to it. He really hoped Sebastian was being honest. He could see some struggle happening on his face and he wondered what he was thinking. Was he thinking that Blaine Is too much work? He couldn’t blame him for that.

A pang of hurt pricked at his heart over the fact that Seb didn’t have his shirt anymore. Had he thrown it away? Of course he threw it away, Blaine. You broke his fucking heart. Blaine was suddenly a little embarrassed that he’d clung to the teddy bear for so long when Sebastian hadn’t wanted to cling to what he’d given him. And again, he wanted to kick himself because he’d been the reason Sebastian’s pretty face was pitiful and red and his tears had broken Blaine’s heart into a million little pieces. The echo of Seb’s yelling at him to leave still echoed in his ears and Blaine wanted to cry just thinking about it even though he was here now and right in front of him being so damn honest So yeah, of course he had gotten rid of the shirt. He tried to keep his face as passive as possible when he spoke, swallowing. “I guess I kind of figured that. I can’t blame you.”

There were so many emotions swirling in the air above them, so many memories and Blaine thought that if he squinted, he might be able to see them and reach out and take the bad ones away and hold the good ones close. But, didn’t you need the bad ones sometimes? Weren’t they what shaped you and made you who you were? All the good and the bad and the in between ones. Even this memory of Seb smoking-  which Blaine should hate and shouldn't have condoned at all because it could kill Seb in the long run and Blaine should have been a better boyfriend? and tried to help him stop, was one that he kept close But here he was still not so secretly thrilled by it. He laughed a little, wondering if he’d been that obvious in his secret pleasure of the scent. “Only because it was on you, Seb.” His stomach flipped over the way Seb said that it was all for him, but the happy sensation was short-lived as he watched Seb’s face change and his demons started to come out to meet Blaine’s. He’d heard stories, and Kurt had him convinced that Sebastian was happy, his photos on Instagram always seemed happy, then again, so did his own. How many times did Seb hurt himself? What did Seb mean by fucked up? He remembered how drunk Seb had gotten at his house and wondered if that was part of his past. Had there been other drugs? Had he been hurt by any of those strangers? Blaine couldn’t stomach the thought of Sebastian, head lolling and passed out in some random place. He didn’t like the picture of Sabine, so confident and strong, sad and scared for her son. And Hunter, smarmy and charming, trying to wake Seb up and afraid that he might not.  

He watched as Seb held his hands up and then sat them on the table and Blaine wanted to cry because even though Sebastian was opening up about his own issues he was still considering him and it made him want to reach out and pull Seb into his arms and take away everything that had happened over the last four years. He settled for reaching out and taking Seb’s hand in his and squeezing it tightly to show he had him. He’d done this part a few times now and each time he felt a little more confident. 

“You were there for me, Seb. You were always there for me, I just… I couldn’t let you do it the way you wanted to and it’s all my fault. I feel like I’m the reason you, well, you h-hurt yourself and I hope you can forgive me. I want you to know that I’m here for you if you ever want to talk about it. Or if you just want to, I don’t know, sit with me and just be- I’ll be there. I w-want to do this, I want to keep seeing you.”

He jumped as their server showed up with the bill, setting it in front of them and coming far too close to Blaine. He reluctantly let go of Seb’s hands and he took a deep breath and watched as Sebastian paid the check, which was no doubt way too expensive.  He watched, wanting nothing more than to continue their conversation as their leftovers were boxed and brought back out. He reached for Seb’s hand as they walked out into the chilly February air and made their wait to the waiting car. He’d suggested that Seb come up so they could continue talking. 

His apartment was warm and the glow of his fairy lights made the room seem ridiculously romantic and as Blaine poured them each a glass of wine it stuck him suddenly that maybe Sebastian wouldn’t be able to wait for him. How long would it take for Blaine to get to Seb’s level? Sure, Seb had told him that his sex life wasn’t all good, but he was used to a certain kind of way and here was Blaine asking to see hands before he could be touched. Blaine had once been a person that loved being touched, loved being intimate and close, especially with Seb and Kurt had robbed him of that. He sat down on the couch and handed Sebastian his glass before turning his body so that he was looking up at the other man.

“First off, I want you to know that I’ve had an amazing time with you. Even with all of the emotions. I really can’t wait to relearn each other's lives and I hope you want that too.” He bit his lip, and took a deep breath, afraid to wait too long or he’d panic and not be able to say it, “I want to do this...whatever it is we’re doing. Dating? I-I don’t know. But, I also want you to know that I understand if you can’t wait for me.” He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “I know that it wasn’t all good and that you didn’t enjoy every person you were with, but I also know that you’re used to a certain speed of things and I don’t know how long it’s going to take me to get there, so if you n-need to go out with other men to, um, get what you need, I-I can’t be mad at you.” He felt the opposite way, he didn’t want anyone else to touch Seb, but how selfish was that? 

“I won’t be mad. I’ll understand.”

Sebastian's POV:

Sebastian felt relieved when Blaine held his hand. He shook his head and took a deep breath because of course Blaine wanted to place the blame on himself. “It wasn’t your fault. You didn’t create the hard wiring inside of my brain. You really don’t need to blame yourself for this.” He made sure that the other man was looking into his eyes as he spoke, “I stand by what I said when I said that we both did some questionable things in the end. We were kids and you went through something so,so terrible. Thank you. I want to keep seeing you,too.” 

He accepted the invitation to join Blaine inside of his apartment. Seb helped him put the leftovers in his fridge and told him that he could keep them. He laid his jacket on the back of one of the bistro table chairs and made himself comfortable on the couch. Sebastian had only been in the apartment one other time but to him, it seemed like it was always warm and inviting if small. He took the wine glass and resisted taking an immediate sip. Instead he swirled the liquid around and watched the other man as he spoke. “I do want all of that.”  Sebastian could feel his face change, his mouth frown and his jaw tense up as his hand squeezed the stem of the wine glass.  He took a deep breath and blinked a few times, sat up a little straighter and took a giant gulp of his wine. Calm down calm down calm down do not say something shitty. 

Sebastian was sure that Blaine wasn’t actively trying to shame him and it was clear that he had chosen his words carefully. He couldn’t help but feel like he was on the outside of Blaine’s group of friends again, hearing the rumors and slut shaming words of the New Directions even as he proved to be a faithful partner to the other boy. Felt the sting of random strangers calling him names when he was at the club or the muttered words of family members at holiday dinners or the nasty DMs he received on social media. 

“Yeah well, I don’t need any of that.” Sebastian took another deep breath. “Look, I’m really trying here but this is a little embarrassingly sensitive to me. I just want you and I can make myself be good for you.” He scrubbed his hands over his face, suddenly overwhelmed and exhausted from all of the words he had given Blaine that evening. “I don’t need anybody else or to hook up every night,” Seb muttered through his hands on his face. “I never did. I chased you in other men for four years and I can’t believe I’m fucking admitting this out loud.”  He leaned back into the cushions and stared at the other man, “I can just masturbate, you know.”  He hoped it would lighten the tense air a little bit.

Blaine’s POV:

Blaine’s heart sank and his stomach twisted into terrified little knots as he watched Sebastian’s whole face change. He shook his head, his first instinct to reach out and take hold of the other man's wine free hand again and squeeze it like he could soothe the words he’d said with his redundant touch. He blinked, his eyes blurry because he could tell that he’d hurt Sebastian’s feelings and that was the last thing he wanted to do. He could feel tears threaten and this part wasn’t about him so he blinked again to keep them back. His brow furrowed and a fierceness to show Seb that he was good swept over him.

“You are good, Seb.” He shook his head, his words determined and full of conviction. “You were good for me then and you’re just as good for me now. Even after you stopped talking to me when not a single one of my friends, save Sam, believed that it was me who left. They all thought it was you who’d left, and when they tried to talk you down, I defended you. It pissed me off so much that they’d never know how fucking good you were for me and how much I-I cared about you.” he stopped himself from saying loved, he was robbed of getting to tell him that when his mom and dad died and he thought it would be inappropriate to do so now. Even if it were true, even if it never went away.

He cocked his head to the side and squeezed Seb’s hand even tighter at his admission. “I’m so fucking stupid for letting you go…” He  mumbled, his eyes big and pained and he again wanted to pull the other man into his arms and make him feel better, take away his embarrassment and tell him that he was here now and that he wasn’t going to go anywhere, “I should have told you that night on the phone what he did. I should have left right then, or I never should have left you at all. Then you wouldn’t have had to chase me in random people. I just wasn’t strong enough then... But, I’m trying now and I’m here and I want this so badly, okay?”

He took a deep breath, both of his hands still holding Seb’s, his fingers wrapped around him for fear that he’d float away. He felt like he couldn’t breath as he struggled to get the next words out. “I said I wouldn’t be mad at you if you wanted to keep up your lifestyle because I’m messed up, Seb. Kurt messed me up. He… ruined so much of what I used to love.” He licked his lips, blinking back the rush of tears again and he was angry at himself for not being able to talk about Kurt without crying.

“He just turned on me one night, grabbed the back of my neck and shamed me for talking too much at a fucking party, ripped the hair from my scalp a few times. And then it turned into withholding hugs, and then sex and then he’d refuse to kiss me. And when we did have sex he’d never let me be in any kind of control in the bedroom, you know what I mean? He always had to say what happened and how. He’d use it as a bargaining piece and “rewarded” me like a goddamn dog if I did what he w-wanted. And I accepted it because I wanted to be touched s-so badly, anything I could get that was anything close to nice. And then one day he just stopped, the only thing I got was hateful fingers digging into my skin and his nails drawing blood and having to wear long sleeves in the summer, and words that brought me down until I flinched every single time someone came near me. T-that hurt was the only touch I got for a year and a half. He didn’t even kiss me in front of people for show anymore.”

He swallowed hard, and tried to be proud of himself for getting it all out, but he could feel the shake start in his hands and work its way up his arms and then all over. He felt vulnerable and raw and exposed in a way he hadn’t let himself feel in a long time. Even with his therapist. “So, I’m scared. What if I start and I freeze up? I want this so goddamn bad, Seb, I’m just so fucking scared. I feel like I’ve forgotten how to do it all and I want you to be happy. It's been a year and a half since I’ve been kissed, Seb. Don't you remember how much I used to love doing that? What if he took that feeling away?” He paused, his chest tight and breath coming in quick gasps. “God, he even deleted my memories of you… Had me convinced you didn’t want me at all.”

Sebastian’s POV:

Sebastian sighed and let Blaine clasp his free hand. “Please don’t call yourself stupid.” It did feel good to hear that Blaine had defended his name when he wasn’t around. “Okay, I believe you. I want this,too. We’ll make it work.” He knew that dating Blaine was going to be a lot of work for the both of them. Blaine was going to have to work on his self confidence and trust and Seb needed to think before he spoke and to stop filling the lonely hours with useless vices. 

He set his wine glass on the table so that he could place his free hand on the other side of Blaine’s. Sebastian was quiet and listened because what else was he supposed to do? He hated Kurt, hated that any of this had happened at all. Sebastian chewed on his bottom lip and could feel his skin burn with anger. He was quiet for a few moments as he tried to process the right words to say. “That’s disgusting. You didn’t deserve any of that.” Sebastian ran his thumb over the other man’s knuckles and hoped that it seemed comforting. “ I’d love to kiss you. I’d love to do everything with you. And if you freeze up, well, you freeze up. We stop. We...watch a movie or go get cheap milkshakes or you can take a walk or a shower.” He shrugged, “You’ll get it back, B and I’ll be happy. We’ll be happy.”

Sebastian’s eye brows furrowed and his mouth was a set line. Kurt didn’t know shit about his life, he never had. He was always judgmental of Sebastian and how he carried himself and how he performed and how he spoke and basically anything and everything he did. “Fuck that guy, okay? He had no clue. I still have the pictures.”

Blaine’s POV:

Blaine cursed himself for using the word stupid again, he’d made a promise to himself that he wouldn’t do that to himself anymore. He nodded, sniffling a little as he tried to keep it together. Everything felt like so much right now, he felt cut wide open and still so exposed that he didn’t know what to do.  Sebastian was here and he was being so sweet, despite Blaine hurting his feelings. His words sounded like heaven and Blaine wanted to experience it all, he wanted to just be normal. 

He wanted to go back to the pool where he’d boldly kissed Sebastian, his fingers tangled in his hair. Or back to the basement where he’d gotten to touch him for the first time to the soundtrack of a horror film. He wanted to go back to every time they’d kissed or touched, back to the night they’d gone the furthest, how good and close they’d felt with their noses bumping and Seb’s legs tangled around him. He wanted to go back to right before the morning came and he’d had to go home to the worst news he’d ever gotten.  

His skin felt itchy with a desire he’d not felt in such a long time, not even the very few times he’d managed to touch himself under the covers of his new apartment before the shame would overtake him. Sebastian wanted to kiss him. Sebastian wanted him. Not just emotionally but physically. He hadn’t been wanted in anyway in such a long time and he, again, didn’t know what to do with it. His heart skipped a beat at the mention of their memories and how Sebastian had kept them, he wondered if he had looked at them often or did he forget about them like the sixteenth birthday card Blaine had given him that he’d stuffed in a book only to discover it later.

“Maybe you could show them to me sometime.” He bit his bottom lip, “And maybe we could make a few new ones in the future.” He took a deep breath, turning over the words I’d love to kiss you. I’d love to do everything with you. And if you freeze up, well, you freeze up. We stop.  Over and over in his head. Sebastian was right there, all Blaine had to do was ask and he’d get something he’d been wanting for a long time. He felt like a child for a moment as he tried to summon up the courage to ask for it and tried not to second guess himself. Kurt had taunted and taken things away for so long that Blaine was struggling to believe it. But Blaine knew Sebastian, even if it had been years, he knew that Seb wouldn’t have said it if he didn’t mean it and that this wasn’t a pity thing. The other man wanted to do this just as much as he did.  

He swallowed hard as he let one of his hands slip from Sebastian’s and slide up to rest against Seb’s cheek, reminding him of New Years and the fleck of ash that got to kiss his snow cold face. Blaine’s life was his, and he was in control. And again, he heard Sebastian’s words like echoes ricocheting off of his brain and into his chest.

I’d love to kiss you. .And if you freeze up, well, you freeze up. We stop. 

“Could you k-kiss me?”

Sebastian’s POV:

Sebastian blinked a few times. Had he heard that correctly? Blaine had asked for a kiss and he felt equal parts excited and proud.  He hoped that his breath didn’t stink and that his lips weren’t dry and that the other man wouldn’t regret the decision to ask for a kiss. Seb gently let go of Blaine’s hands and maneuvered his body so that he was sitting cross legged on the couch across from him. He displayed his hands in front of him and waited for Blaine to nod.  

“I’m gonna place my hands on your face,” Sebastian’s voice was soft as he gently cupped one of his cheeks in each hand. He ran his thumb over Blaine’s cheekbone, “I’m gonna kiss you now.” Seb wanted to give him the chance to say no if he decided that this was too much. He leaned in and gently kissed him once and then gave him a second, slow open mouthed kiss.

Blaine’s POV:

Breathe in, breathe out. You’ve got this, Blaine.

Blaine’s heart thumped hard against his rib cage. Every single one of Blaine’s nerve endings seemed to be ignited as Sebastian’s lips pressed so completely against his. He froze for the briefest moment as their lips touched and a part of him wanted to stop, and was trying to convince him that this wasn’t for the best, that Seb was lying. But the way Sebastian's lips felt against his and the press of his fingers cupping his face lightly, made Blaine stay. His toes curled against the hardwood floor as the kiss deepend a little and his hand clenched into the front of Sebastian’s shirt as the other man's lips gently moved against his. Sebastian was kissing him sweetly and Blaine felt like he was floating.

He was overwhelmed with the feeling of it as he forced himself to pull away before the worry could possibly take hold of him again, and he basked in the way Seb had shown his hands for him, and had spoken the words so softly and and gently cupped his face like he did once upon a time, making him feel like someone important. Blaine wanted to cry with the intensity of it. He gave the other man a watery smile instead and swallowed down the new wave of happy tears as he pressed his face into the crook of Sebastian’s neck, allowing himself to breath him in for just a moment, something he’d been wanting to do since he’d seen him again. The smell of leather, and smoke and cold filled his senses.

He could get used to this. He wanted to get used to this. Wanted to let Seb kiss him and touch him and maybe more. Wanted to do the same in return and show Seb how good he really was. And maybe he’d be okay, and maybe he’d have bad moments at times, but right now he was happy and sated in a way he hadn't thought he could feel again. He let out a little laugh and wondered if it felt as good to Sebastian but he was too shy to ask. He bit his lip, ducking his head in embarrassment at how good something so seemingly small felt to him.

“That… that felt incredible.”

Sebastian’s POV:

Sebastian felt too many things. The familiar feel of Blaine’s lips, the scent of his cologne triggering memories, his hand in his shirt reminiscent of the first time they touched each other intimately. They pulled away, his eyes closed for a moment before he saw Blaine’s small smile. He let him rest his head in his neck for a moment and he wondered if he remembered how sensitive he was there.  Sebastian had thought of this moment a million times when he was all alone at night in his bed, when the alcohol or the drugs or the high from being with another human wore off. He’d stare at the wall or the ceiling and think about kissing Blaine, wonder if he would ever get a second chance, if he’d ever be able to take that chance.  Now here he was, on a second hand couch in a small Brooklyn apartment kissing Blaine sweetly. This wasn’t how he thought any of this would have happened but he was glad it was happening. “I’d say.” 

The two of them cuddled into the cushions of the couch, sitting close, and talked for a little while longer. Sebastian would offer up his hands and Blaine would play with his fingers and he even showed him some of their old photos that he had stored deep in his phone. Suddenly it was midnight and Seb figured he needed to excuse himself for the night. The two of them lingered in the doorway as he put on his coat and his shoes. “I had a wonderful night. Thanks for coming out with me. We can do it again soon, yeah?” 

Sebastian even got to give Blaine a kiss goodbye. This one was just as slow and gentle but just a little bit longer. They said their goodbyes and Sebastian  jumped in the car and watched the other man’s brick building fade as he rode away into the New York night. He wondered if Blaine was watching the car. He hoped that he was. 

/fin.

[daisychainsinknots]

Getting Lucky Pt.1

Summary: Reader moves to Seattle and becomes roommates with Major Lillywhite.

Warnings: Cursing, gore (Just in case), eventual smut in a later part.

I DO NOT OWN IZOMBIE, OR ANY OF THE CHARACTERS THEREOF. THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION.

*Do not replicate or reproduce my work anywhere without my explicit permission*

Author’s Note: I know the first couple of paragraphs kind of suck, I may change them later on. Please give it a chance after that, I got into the zone later on. Anyway, Enjoy!!

                       (Possible errors, as always, I wrote this at like 3 am)

                             Getting Lucky Pt.1

You had been blessed with unprecedented luck as a child. That’s not to say that life had been easy; rather, when things seemed most dire, some deus ex machina esque event would occur, essentially pulling a one-eighty on your whole life direction. When you were a child, your home burned down. It had been levelled, completely consumed along with the entirety of your family’s belongings. Once the blaze had been extinguished and your tears sufficiently dried by the rough but comforting hands of every firefighter, it had been revealed that your house had concealed a number of underground rooms filled with gold coins.

Upon investigation, it was discovered that your ancestors had been some sort of real life swashbuckling pirates who had stashed the wealth of their voyages under a ramshackle hovel they had hastily cobbled together to hide their treasure. Their children had joined the family business and stashed their gold in the same place. The shack had been built up by later generations as the freshly dug ground began to raise suspicion, and, over the course of many renovations, it had ended up as the deceptively modest house your family had lived in for years.

Since this revelation, your family had been forced to move elsewhere as the site had become an archeological site, but had been able to leave with immense wealth. Your parents had been careful to protect you from entitlement, reminding you of the importance of giving back and passing forward their good fortune. They had been careful to use the wealth for only a few comforts, namely a college fund, retirement fund, and a comfortable home. They gave much of the money to charities, endorsed public resources and generally tried to give back to the community.

You wanted to give back, just as your parents had wanted you to, so you decided to use the college fund to go to medical school. You had never been the most academically excellent, but you worked your ass off and managed to finish your doctorate on time with decent grades. The day you graduated, an unexpected storm struck the outdoor ceremony. As you stared up at the raging clouds that had rolled in out of nowhere, you smiled brightly, even as your hair was plastered to your scalp by sheets of rain, even as your diploma sagged, waterlogged, in your slack fist. In that moment, you decided that this was the universe’s way of telling you that Seattle, Washington was waiting for you.  

  That was how you ended up in the Emerald City, with an at best, shaky job, but nowhere to live. In your haste to not keep the universe and Seattle waiting, you’d rushed finding a roommate and had booked a sketchy place that had, predictably, fallen through, along with a security deposit worth about three month’s rent. You only discovered this when your cab came to a stop outside of the address you’d been given and it turned out to be a gas station.

You climbed out of the car, determined to inquire outside and see if there had been some mistake; surely this wasn’t the disaster you instinctively knew it must be as your heart sank. The gas station clerk was as helpful as they could be, but ultimately could not give you anything better that an apologetic “Better luck next time, I’m really sorry, dude.” You thanked them and purchased a bottle of water to make the excursion seem more worth it. As you stepped out, you were in time to see the cab pull away, leaving your bags on the sidewalk.

You narrowed your eyes at your simple black suitcases that lay pathetically on the dirty sidewalk. You took a deep, calming breath in through your nose, muttering “Out through the mouth, God damn it.”

You stalked toward your bags, grabbed the handles and yanked them into a standing position. Once you had all of the handles in one hand, you pulled your phone from your coat pocket and checked a map of Seattle.

King County morgue, 2.7 miles.

“Fuck.”

You chewed on your bottom lip for a brief, decision making moment. Opting to try to at least find your work-place in order, you set off on the path GoogleMaps had set out for you. A rain storm began about halfway through your walk, soaking through your wool pea coat so that by the time you reached the morgue, your good spirits plopped onto the cement along with the water droplets dripping off of your sleeves.

You knew you cut anything but a professional, authoritative figure when, shivering, sodden, and clutching three suitcases worth of belongings, you had walked down the stairs and through the main doors of the ME’s office. The coroner, Dr. Ravi Chakrabarti, or, “Just Ravi, please,” as he had insisted when you had introduced yourselves, had looked up from a cadaver when he’d heard the commotion of three large, heavy bags clatter down the staircase behind you. Seeing the pathetic creature before him, he’d rushed to help you with your things, start the electric kettle, and usher you into a seat in his warm office.

You introduced yourself through chattering teeth. “Uhm, m-my name’s Y-Y/N, uhm, I’m your new Assistant Medical Examiner?” You glanced down at yourself, taking in the leather couch you’d sat down on. “Oh, shit. I’m so sorry! I’m soaked, I’m completely ruining your leather,” you babbled as you got to your feet, attempting to wipe off the water you’d left behind. “I’ll pay to have it cleaned, or restored, or whatever needs to be done. I’m so sorry again.”

Ravi smiled at you, clearly amused. “Water is probably the least horrible thing that’s been on that couch. Don’t worry about it. Let’s get you a cup of tea, aye?”

You managed a small, tired smile. “Please, that sounds amazing. Just what the doctor ordered, you might say.” You giggled weakly at your poor attempt at humor.

Ravi looked a little lost, but grinned at you good naturedly. Motioning to you to follow him, he strode toward the kitchen where the kettle had begun to beep its readiness. “Is chamomile okay?” he asked as he grabbed a mug from the cabinet. Glancing up at you as he poured hot water into the mug, he faltered and quickly set the mug and kettle back on the counter.

“Oh my God, are you alright? What’s wrong?” Ravi exclaimed, his voice full of concern. He opened his arms and with gentle eyes asked if you’d like a hug.

Your face had crumpled and you’d allowed your long-suppressed tears to flow. You hadn’t expected your new boss to even remember your name, much less make you a cup of tea and offer a hug as you wept with exhaustion. You half collapsed, half jumped into his arms and held him tight, blubbering and gulping in breaths. He smelled like a home you’d always longed for, but never found; spicy, like cinnamon and cloves, but soft and sort of musty, like the wool sweater he wore.

He awkwardly rubbed your back as your embrace went on a little too long, and you took the hint to release him. You coughed out a laugh, swiping at your eyes with the back of a still damp hand.

“Thank you, Ravi. I really appreciate the warm welcome. It means a lot to a wrung-out new-comer.”

The corners of his eyes crinkled in a warm smile.

“It’s no problem, just don’t go spreading it around that I do this kind of thing for people.” He leaned in conspiratorially, loudly whispering, “I’ve got a reputation to maintain, you know. I’m something of a bad boy around here.”

You nodded seriously, holding back a smile. “Of course, of course, Dr. Chakrabarti, you can count on me. I’ll keep the stories about your heart of gold to myself.”

You heard a small chuckle behind you and turned to see a petite woman leaning against the counter. Her shock of bright white hair, pale skin and sunken eyes were comfortingly familiar. You’d seen those exact features on yourself a month or two ago, but you had to admit, she pulled it off much better than you had.

“So. There’s zombies here in Seattle too. Weird. How did that happen?”

Before you could wonder any more or freak this poor woman out by staring at her anymore, Ravi spoke up.

“Ah, allow me to introduce you. Y/N, this is Olivia Moore, she’s my assistant ME and your partner. Liv, this is Y/N. They arrived today and have not had a good time of it.”

Olivia turned to you with questioning eyes. You grinned and rubbed the back of your left hand sheepishly.

“Yeah…I didn’t make the best decision when it came to picking a place to live, so I got sort of scammed and am out of a place to live at the moment.”

Ravi turned to look at you, eyebrows raised. He knew you had shown up soaked to the bone, but hadn’t known about your misfortune.

Olivia cut in before Ravi could express his disapproval at your poor decision making skills. “I have a...good friend who’s looking for a roommate right now. I can ask him if he’d be okay with you crashing at his place for a while until you find a place? He’s a great guy, I promise.”

Your heart filled with hope and you nodded enthusiastically. “That sounds amazing, Olivia. I just want a bed, and a shower would be awesome. In any case, Ravi trusts you, and I trust Ravi, so I’m sure this guy is really someone special.”

Ravi shook his head at you with disappointment, but before he could launch into a tirade about how you should have made better decisions, you quickly pointed out how the cadaver should really either be finished up or put back in the fridge. His eyes widened with the realization and quickly excused himself to put the body away.

Olivia smiled with affection, watching Ravi rush to collect the equipment from the corpse and get it back into its refrigerated drawer. Turning back to you, she said,“Yeah. Major is really special. I’ll give him a call. By the way, you can call me Liv. That’s what everyone calls me.”

Liv stepped away to call Major, and you, shivering again, grab the mug of over-steeped chamomile tea. You take a small sip and purse your lips, wincing a little at the bitterness. The tea was lukewarm by now, but you were still thankful for Ravi’s kind gesture.

“Well universe, this isn’t exactly a fairytale, but this isn’t bad. These people seem genuinely really cool. Maybe this wasn’t such a bad decision after all.”

Your tiny self-congratulation was interrupted by Liv walking back in and smiling confidently at you.

“Major said yes! You can crash for as long as you need. He did say that as long as you want to stay, but would you be willing to help out with rent and stuff? But you guys can talk about that later. I’d imagine you want to change and rest?”

You nodded emphatically. You had never wanted to just shower and sleep more in your life.

“Okay! I just need to talk to Ravi real quick and then we can leave. That sound good?” Liv asked. “That sounds awesome.” you sighed. Finally, you could get a shower and sleep. Liv dipped her head in understanding and stepped out of the kitchen to say goodbye to Ravi. You quickly gulped down the remainder of your tea and washed the mug, placing it in the dish drainer with a couple of beakers and pots and pans. A scrap of meat in one of the pans caught your eye. It looked like...brain?

“Right! Liv may be a zombie. Do I ask? Do I ignore it for now?”

Liv’s soft voice saying goodbye to Ravi brought you out of your thoughts.

“I’ll ask when we’re alone,” you decided. “Hey, uh, Liv?” you called.

“Yeah?” she replied.

“I’m ready when you are, I’ve got everything together.”

“Alright, I’m good to go.”

[isitmadness]

A Handsome Stranger

story summary: Driving 1,300 miles in a truck with a complete stranger. This will be fine. This was what desperation will get you. Desperation and something akin to love-at-first-sight.

chapter summary: Ben and Cody feel lots of things for each other. The sunset and karaoke helps.

relationships: Cody/Obi-Wan Kenobi

words: 5.9k

a/n: I liked the idea of these two idiots on a road trip in an AU/modern setting, so I wrote one. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯  Also, I decided to go back and post chapters 3 & 4, too, I don’t really know why...this is my favorite chapter though. 

Read it on ao3

Part 1: A Handsome Stranger at the Airport

Part 2: The Handsome Strangers Talk

Part 3: The Handsome Strangers Take a Detour

Part 4:  A Handsome Stranger Does Karaoke

After leaving Muir Woods, Cody and Ben decided to take the 101, drive until they were too tired, and see where they ended up. Ben didn’t realize how uninteresting parts of northern California could be, but at least the company and conversation were interesting and kept Ben’s attention easily. This time they ran the gamut of deeper subjects, but attempted to avoid the elephant in the room. Until they just couldn’t anymore.

“So…” Cody started carefully. “Quin, huh?”

Ben scrubbed a hand over his face. He anticipated that question and yet he still wasn’t ready. “That went nothing at all like I expected, quite honestly.”

“What did you expect after two years?” It was a little more direct than perhaps Cody intended, but well, the question was out there now. Ben sighed. “I didn’t, um...I--”

“No, no, it’s all right, Cody,” Ben interrupted. “Quin and I were friends for so long before, I just...figured...it’d be back to the way it was before. And that was perhaps very naive of me.” Ben was quiet for a moment before he spoke again. “I truly am sorry for dragging you along and just sort of leaving you there.”

Cody gave him a small smile, “Well I got to talk to Depa at least.” He didn’t tell Ben that he learned some new and interesting things about himself. That perhaps he wanted Ben to stick around a bit longer.

“I learned some new things about myself though.” Ben interrupted Cody’s train of thought and once again he found himself worried that Ben could actually read his mind. “And as I said before, I gained some closure. So, I think it was worth it in the end.”

What Ben couldn’t tell Cody was that he already felt something for Cody that he never did with Quinlan - a certain camaraderie and an odd sense that maybe in another life they worked side-by-side in mutual trust. Quinlan would be his friend again, and he still loved him as such, but he and Ben were just too different in important ways. And he very much wanted Cody to stay in his life even when they reached Seattle.

“How’s your booboo, by the way?” Cody decided instead to change the subject.

Ben chuckled and reached up, ghosting two fingers over the bandage, “Well, I think it’s healing despite not receiving a kiss to make it all better.” He squeezed his eyes shut, realizing immediately how awkward he made it. He really had a knack for that.

All Ben got in return was “hmmm.”

“Yeah, I should probably stop talking,” Ben finally said with a nervous laugh.

“You can’t though, I’m nowhere close to tired and we need to make up for some time lost. Remember when you said ‘Seattle isn’t exactly next door to San Diego’?” Ben groaned and threw his head back against the cab wall. That at least made Cody smile.

Ben narrowed his eyes, “How dare you throw my words back in my face. I don’t say things out loud for them to be used against me later when convenient.”

Cody laughed, “Well, I have some news for you, Ben...Seattle really isn’t next door to San Diego. You were right.”

----

Later, Ben found himself driving again as the 101 took them back oceanside around Eureka. He found it to be one of the more picturesque parts of their trip. With the sun slowly making its descent towards the horizon, it was all Ben could do to not pull over and just stop, sit on some beach, and watch.

“So, we’re not going to make it to Oregon tonight, are we?” Ben asked.

“No, I don’t think so. I think it's too far...someone had to waste so much time with an ex-boyfriend." Cody very pointedly did not look at Ben, but Ben could still appreciate the playfulness.

"I told you detouring in San Francisco was a mistake but you wouldn't listen!" Cody turned to look at Ben who merely winked.

Oh no. Ben was flirting again. Cody hated it because it made his inside twist in knots. But he also secretly loved it and hoped Ben would never stop. He finally narrowed his eyes and looked at his companion. “You want to stop again, don’t you?”

Ben acted incredulous for about two seconds under Cody’s withering stare. “I don’t… what-- what gives you that idea?”

Cody chuckled, “I just had a feeling.”

They went around a bend in the road and Ben was suddenly silhouetted against the sunset, the orange evening light making his hair redder than ever. Cody’s mouth was suddenly very dry.

Ben turned and smiled, “Well, I guess you should trust your gut since you were right.” He found Cody staring, but couldn’t quite comprehend the look on his face. “Is there something on my face?”

Cody shook his head a little too vehemently. “No, no, it’s nothing...I was just, uh, watching the sunset on the ocean.”

“Funny you should mention that…” Ben smiled again. “That’s the reason why I wanted to stop.” Cody hesitated. "Another chance to stretch our legs before the final push?"

Cody had to admit that Ben was good. He would have stopped anyway, but at least Ben gave him an actual compelling reason. “Oh, all right,” Cody relented. How could he say no?

----

They found a pull-off with quick access to the ocean at Clam Beach, and lucky for them, it was mostly abandoned. They took off their jackets, sweaters, shoes and socks, left them in the truck, then rolled up their pants legs and walked out on the beach. They walked around, stretched their legs, and searched for seashells. Ben finally walked out into the ocean, running back and forth whenever the tide came in, and Cody watched with affection. He had to keep telling himself that within a day or so, they would reach Bremerton, part, and he would probably never see Ben again.

So he decided to enjoy the moment while it lasted. He took his own touristy photos of the sunset and his companion.

Cody decided to finally sit and Ben joined him a few minutes later, looking flushed and truly the happiest Cody had seen him yet. He plopped down on the sand, smiling. “I know the day isn’t over yet, but this is probably one of the best days I’ve had in a really long time.”

Cody looked at him, “Me, too.”

“Even despite the San Francisco detour?” Ben nudged him with his elbow.

Cody finally smiled, “Yes, Ben, even with the detour.”

In the direct sunlight, Ben noticed that Cody’s lovely brown eyes almost seemed to glow amber. He pulled out his phone and opened the camera, “If you don’t mind, I’d like to commemorate it, but also this will give me proof to send to Anakin...you know, to let him know you haven’t killed me yet.” At this Cody laughed.

“Weren’t you supposed to be the killer in this scenario?”

“Yes, you’re right, but Anakin doesn’t know that.” Cody sucked in a quick breath as Ben leaned in closely. He was so close now he could feel the man’s body heat through his thermal shirt. Ben held his phone out in front of them, and they both managed to smile for a quick series of photos. “Also, apparently Padme wanted to know what you looked like, but I think it was really Anakin.” Ben grinned as he flicked through the photos quickly to make sure they came out okay.

Cody scoffed, “Right, right...blame it on the wife.” He had wondered briefly if Ben hadn’t just wanted the photo for himself, but then decided he was reading too much into it. And when he saw Ben typing out the message to Anakin, it was decided. He cleared his throat, "So, anyway, I'm not really sure what we're going to do about a hotel. I'm not familiar with the area we’re in or where we will be in an hour or two."

“Well, lucky for us my phone still has power, so let's see what I can find."

As they hunched over Ben’s phone, he found he couldn’t have asked for a more perfect ending to the day than sitting shoulder-to-shoulder in the sand with Cody, listening to the crashing of the waves as the sun dipped below the horizon.

They finally settled on another picturesque-looking town only an hour and a half away called Crescent City where they would stop for the night.

----

Cody and Ben stood in front of the truck and took in the property. It sat right on the ocean, and though the sun had vanished beyond the horizon, they could still see the view was incredible. The motel on the other hand....well, the view was still nice.

"At least the sign says 'vacancy,'" Cody pointed out.

"Except because I think Norman Bates runs this thing," Ben mused.

Cody huffed a laugh. "Here's your chance to improve your 'we're both murderers' story." Cody elbowed him in a playful gesture that caught Ben slightly off-guard. He liked it.

"Well there is that. You make a compelling argument."

Cody reached across Ben and pointed at the other building sitting on the property. "AND a bar within walking distance. What more could you want?"

Cody turned back towards Ben and caught him staring, a soft expression on his face that he didn't quite understand, or, rather, one he was afraid of accepting. He was once again close enough to feel the heat coming off of him. How had he gotten so close to Ben without realizing it?

"Nothing at all, it's perfect," Ben finally answered, never taking his eyes off Cody.

"Hmm, yes...well, you may want to retract that statement once we see inside both places," Cody nearly stuttered. His heart was hammering in his chest and he was sure Ben could hear it.

"So what if I get the rooms this time, and you get us a table?" Ben asked as he headed in the direction of the motel office. "Not that I expect there to be a wait...but there might not be much to do around here this time of the night, and well, this might be the life of the town."

Cody grinned, "I can do that."

----

Cody stepped into the bar and looked around. It was a DIVE. And there really was a wait because it was packed. For some reason, it seemed to be the happening place in this small seaside town. And Cody was also horrified to find it had karaoke. He hated karaoke.

He hovered near the entrance while a small dark-haired woman belted out two 80s rock songs, and he longed for ear plugs. Well, at least there would be alcohol.

And Ben.

The man appeared suddenly at his elbow as if summoned. "Hello there.” He glanced around the room. “There's actually a wait?"

"Yeah, can you believe this?"

"It seems to be quite popular! I mean, karaoke? How could anyone resist?" He laughed.

Cody groaned, “I could...quite easily. How about the rooms? Did you get those okay?"

Ben coughed into his hand, "Well, about that…"

Cody stared at him. "Please tell me they had rooms."

"Room,” Ben said, emphasizing the M at the end of the word. He held out a key to Cody who took it. An actual hotel room key. Neither of them had seen one in so long.

"Singular?" Ben nodded.

"It was literally the last room they had. I saw her switch on the 'no vacancy' before I left," Ben added.

What would one night hurt, right? They were adults. They could handle the same room for one night. But now that meant Cody would have to watch his alcohol intake. An ex once called him an 'amorous drunk' and he did not need that happening.

"Well, as long as it's safe and clean, right?" Cody added after some time. Ben nodded. "And how much was it?"

Ben chuckled, "I think you're going to love this…$60 for the night."

Cody looked surprised, he expected at least $80 for the view. "What? How…?"

"Well...she saw the truck outside with your naval stickers on the back. I told her we had just come from San Francisco and you were moving to Kitsap. The next thing I knew, we were newly-married, but we can't take a honeymoon yet because you're in the navy, so this little road trip is all we have." Cody was flustered but honestly impressed at how well Ben spun the story. And it…wasn't even completely false. "So she, uh, gave us a discount."

"I can't believe you used me for a cheap room," Cody said with almost a hint of a smile.

"It's just one night, darling," Ben continued, seemingly unaware he had just dropped the term of endearment. The way it just rolled off his tongue delighted Cody; however, he was already sweating and he hadn’t even begun to drink. "She just wanted to help out a newlywed couple, and well, I didn’t correct her." Now Cody couldn't decide if he wanted to smack the smug grin off Ben's face or kiss it.

"Just two?" The hostess interrupted.

"Yes," they answered in unison. She sat Ben and Cody in a booth in the middle of the side of the bar. Closer to the karaoke than Cody would have liked, but not right next to it, thankfully.

Ben hooked a thumb over his shoulder towards the small stage. "So, do you…?"

"Sing?" Cody finished the sentence for him. "Certainly not in front of a bunch of drunk people."

Ben laughed, "But that's the best place! No one cares how bad you are!"

"Ben, are you going to embarrass me tonight?"

He grinned again, "Do you know any of these people?" Cody shook his head slowly, not quite sure what that had to do with anything. "Ok, so who cares? You're never going to see them again in your life. And also, remember, they're drunk? They probably think they're at a real concert." Ben took off his cardigan, and Cody found himself distracted once again by his collarbone and freckled forearms. He looked down at the menu and tried to become very interested in it instead.

"What can I get you boys?" Their waitress appeared at the end of the table.

"Hello there!" Ben greeted her with enthusiasm. "I'll have whatever ale is darkest and two fingers of whisky."

She looked over at Cody, "I'll just start with a hard cider for now."

"You got it," she said and left.

"I wouldn't have picked hard cider for you," Ben said, leaning forward.

"Yeah, well, I'm trying to go easy I guess.

"Fair enough," Ben replied as he looked around the bar. It was loud and vibrant. He hadn't been out drinking in so long, and certainly not with such a handsome partner. He watched the karaoke stage as the next person came up to pick their song.

"I see you eyeing that stage…" Cody's voice pulled Ben's gaze away from the other side of the bar.

He smiled, "It could be fun! It's only a thought. I'd have to have a little more than one pint and one whisky though."

"Oh yeah, that's just what you need," Cody sighed.

"I can hold my liquor! I think you'd be surprised," Ben said in mock offense.

Cody shook his head, "Please don't think that was a challenge. I can't have you throwing up all night and into the next day. We need to make it to Kitsap tomorrow."

"It'll happen, Cody, don't you worry." Before he realized what he was doing, Ben reached over and squeezed Cody's hand.

The waitress used that most inopportune moment to return with their drinks and gave them a sly smile when they both pulled away quickly. "Ale and whisky for you… and cider for you. You want anything to eat?"

"Wings and fries for me," Cody answered.

"And how about a burger for me, medium," Ben followed up.

She winked at them both, "You bet."

----

Their very late dinner was passing pleasantly enough despite some of the singing. Which was...well, terrible, at times, and made it impossible to hear at others. Because Ben got tired of asking Cody to repeat himself, he got up and came to sit on Cody’s side. They sat shoulder-to-shoulder, nursing their drinks, talking and watching singer after singer try their hand at karaoke.

It may have been the effect of the alcohol, or all the bodies in the bar, but the place had gotten warmer and Cody eventually took off his jacket and outermost flannel layer, too. Ben knew he was staring, and he tried not to, but every time Cody reached for his glass, he couldn't help but notice the flex of muscle in his forearm. And he appreciated the view.

"I think I need to visit the loo really quickly," Ben said, getting up suddenly.

Cody was surprised that Ben jumped up so quickly, but he nodded all the same. "Well, I'll be here."

Ben reached down and gently touched Cody's nose, "Of course you will."

Cody absolutely didn't know what to do with that. He exhaled a breath he didn't even realize he was holding and slumped into the booth. He couldn't get drunk. He was having a hard time being near Ben, and the idiot had to come sit right next to him, too. He slid over on the bench. Maybe if there was no room when he came back, he'd take the hint and sit on his own side.

The thing was...he wanted Ben to sit beside him. He wanted to wrap an arm around his waist and pull him close. Nuzzle his hair and place a kiss to his temple, then cheek, then mouth. He wanted. And that terrified him.

Tomorrow they would be in Kitsap. They would maybe even exchange numbers but they would go their separate ways. Cody would get his promotion, adjust to life on a new base in a new town, and Ben would be reunited with his family and become an uncle. Maybe they would see each other every now and then, but Ben would live across the water in Seattle. They would be friends, linked by several crazy days on the road up the west coast.

Cody was picking at the fries on his plate when the opening refrain of 'Beyond the Sea' started playing. It was an interesting choice considering all the 80s and 90s music they had suffered through all night long. No one had dared touch the older classics. But he froze as soon as the person started singing, his heart pounding in his ears.

Ben was going to embarrass him.

Somewhere, beyond the sea Somewhere, waiting for me My lover stands on golden sands And watches the ships that go sailing

Cody watched in equal parts horror, amusement, and extreme fondness as Ben took the microphone off the stand and made his way around the floor. He knew every single word, and boy, could he sing. Cody was floored.

Ben made his way towards their table with a wide smile on his face.

Somewhere, beyond the sea He's there watching for me If I could fly like birds on high Then straight to his arms I'd go sailing

He winked at Cody and turned around, winding his way through the tables being quite the performer. He was charming the socks off everyone in the bar. Who was this man?

We'll meet beyond the shore We'll kiss just as before Happy we'll be beyond the sea And never again I'll go sailing

The waitress came by again smiling at Cody, "Another cider for you? Or you need something stronger?"

"Whisky, double...bring another for him, too. I'm sure he's going to want it when he's done." She smiled and nodded.

Ben finally finished his song to raucous applause. No one had gotten the reception he had all night. Cody was still slightly embarrassed, but he was also secretly proud that he'd return to his table. Which he did not two minutes later, just in time for the waitress to greet him with another round plus more, "Whisky is from your boyfriend here, but all the other is from the bartender who says thanks for the amusement and well done."

Ben laughed, breathless. "Ah! Thank you most kindly." He picked up the whisky from the table and lifted it to her.

"Really though, we don't generally get that kind of entertainment in here. It was delightful," she smiled and left Ben and Cody alone once more. In his extreme confusion and adoration, Cody had forgotten to slide over, so Ben plopped down beside him once more, bumping arms and shoulders.

"Well?" Ben was still breathing a bit heavier than usual, and he was flushed, which was quite cute. "Did I embarrass you?"

Cody swallowed thickly and picked up his own glass to down the contents. He needed to drink, but he also needed to clear his head, and the drink wasn't going to do that at all. He finally chuckled, "Yes, you really did."

Ben laughed. "Good."

The stupid idiot didn't even know how much he was making Cody fall for him. And Cody was a stupid idiot for falling. "But really though," Cody cleared his throat. "That was impressive, I had no idea you could sing."

"I have to keep some of the mystery, don't I?" Ben leaned into Cody and lowered his voice. "If you knew everything right out of the gate, you wouldn't want to spend any more time with me." Oh the bastard did know what he was doing. This was so much worse.

Cody arched an eyebrow, "Who says I want to spend any time with you? I needed help paying for the truck, remember?" He took a sip of his beer to hide his grin.

Ben huffed in annoyance. "Right, of course, silly me."

They nursed their drinks, ordered dessert and watched the next parade of singers. They decided to make it into a game: guess the genre before the song began then rate the performance. Cody was a lot harsher than Ben, but he seemed to be enjoying himself, and that made Ben glad.

"You know," Ben started. "On the beach earlier, I thought the day was already the best one I had had in awhile, but this, right now, is truly icing on the cake."

Cody looked at him and felt a very peculiar fondness. "I have to say, I agree."

At that, suddenly Ben leaned closer, emboldened by the alcohol and the warm, hazy atmosphere in the bar. He couldn't be positive, but he thought Cody was leaning in, too. He got close enough to feel the heat radiating off the man...just one inch closer--

"Wait." Ben froze and blinked. "You're drunk." It was a simple statement of fact. Cody pulled away.

Ben chuckled nervously, "Aye, maybe a little. I'd say...more...buzzed really."

"It doesn't matter," Cody shook his head and Ben stared, dumbstruck. "If we're not careful, we may--”

Ben swallowed and closed his eyes, “Please don’t say it…”

“...do something we'll regret." Cody shifted in the booth like he wanted to get up. Ben moved and stood up at the end of the table. Cody stood, too and dug his wallet out of his pocket and put several bills on the table. Ben watched as Cody put on his jacket and walked through the bar and out the front door.

Ben remained, dumbfounded. What the hell was that? He had thought Cody was interested in him. But perhaps he was mistaken. Well, obviously he was. He had misread signs before, so this certainly wouldn't have been the first time. He mentally kicked himself for letting it happen again. He slipped his cardigan back on and left his own money on the table, silently cursing under his breath. This was going to make the rest of the night extremely fun and not awkward at all.

When Ben stepped outside, there was no sign of Cody. He growled, "Couldn't even wait for me to walk back to the motel, eh?" He said to absolutely no one. A man who had just closed his car door in the parking lot gave him a strange look, and Ben fought the urge to stick his tongue out at him.

"There is peace, there is peace, there is peace," he repeated like a mantra with every step he took back towards the motel. The crunch of the gravel beneath his boots was a centering comfort.

Once he reached their door, he pulled the key out of his pocket—who still used actual keys?—and fumbled trying to get it into the lock. His hands were shaking, okay, maybe he was more than slightly buzzed, and he found himself getting increasingly frustrated that the key wouldn't turn. He was drunk, yes, but not that drunk. How could Cody have locked him out? Did he have the locks changed? Ben exhaled and laughed, "Ben, you idiot, how would he get the door locks changed?"

As Ben mumbled to himself and tried to enter the neighbor's room, Cody stood in the entrance of their own room, leaning against the door frame. He knew it was impolite to laugh, but he was a little amused, and he didn't really plan to make him suffer long. He straightened up and cleared his throat.

"You going to stand there all night and try to get in the neighbor's room, or what?"

Ben jolted and dropped his key at the sound of Cody’s voice. He looked between Cody and the door he'd been previously trying to enter. It was fairly dark outside, so Cody couldn't be sure, but Ben seemed to be blushing.

"Ah." He bent down and picked up the key and shuffled to their room, keeping his head down the whole way. He might have been annoyed that Cody left him in the bar, but he HAD tried to kiss him. He couldn't make eye contact. He stopped just shy of the door and rubbed a hand across the back of his neck.

Cody waved his hand into the room, a gesture that told Ben to enter. He stopped abruptly when he saw the inside. There was just one bed.

He looked to Cody. "I swear I didn't know, I assumed there would be double beds."

"You didn't think to ask?" Cody sounded mildly annoyed.

"Well, no…" Ben said sheepishly. "Although, I guess I should have known when she thought we were married, but then again, it was the last room. I can, uh...go back out there and stay after we get our bags. I can sleep in the truck." Ben turned to walk back out of the room but Cody grabbed his upper arm. Ben felt his skin burning.

Cody sighed, "You'll do no such thing. It’s late, and we have another long day tomorrow, so we probably should just get ready for bed. We’re adults - this will be fine."

Ben nodded, "Let me go get our things then."

Cody sighed and sat on the end of the bed to wait. He was extra grateful he had decided to not drink so much, but one bed was still going to be a challenge when all he wanted to do was kiss and touch Ben. And Ben very clearly wished to do the same. He felt a heat rising in his chest at the thought. It had been years since he had been with anyone.

Ben returned several minutes later with their bags, looking tired and less jovial than he had inside the bar. Cody was fairly certain he had quashed all of Ben's romantic notions. He stood and went to the door to close and lock up. "You take the bathroom first. I can wait."

"No, no, I insist you take it first," Ben sat on the end of the bed and kicked off his shoes. Despite taking them off in the truck earlier at the beach, he still dumped sand all over the carpet. He chuckled to himself thinking of how much Anakin would have hated it.

"Well, okay, fine," Cody rifled through his overnight bag, found what he needed and disappeared behind the bathroom door.

Ben fell backwards onto the bed. You have two more days at the most… just, don't make it awkward again. He doesn't care about you in that way. He's a kind stranger who gave you a ride, that's it. When you reach the peninsula, you'll part ways, shake hands, and that'll be that. Between the alcohol, the talking to himself, and the sound of the shower running, Ben lulled himself into a light slumber, fully dressed and waiting on his turn in the bathroom.

Cody got out of the shower and toweled off. He started to get dressed and realized he had left his briefs in his bag. He could either forgo the briefs or he could be an adult and walk out there and get them. He was an adult. Ben was an adult.

But Ben had tried to kiss him. He almost let him, too. Gods, he should have.

Cody wrapped a towel around his waist and opened the bathroom door slowly. It was eerily quiet in the room, too quiet. Did Ben go sleep in the truck after all? He stepped out of the bathroom to find Ben sleeping, snoring lightly. He breathed a sigh of relief that he wouldn't have to parade half-naked in front of the man he couldn't stop thinking about. He carefully made his way back to his overnight bag and dug through it until he found what he needed.

"Oh." Came a breathy noise from behind him. He winced, of-kriffing-course.

You're an adult, you're both adults, this is fine, Cody told himself as he turned around. Ben looked like a deer caught in headlights. But Cody almost lost it when Ben reached up and covered his eyes with his hands like a child.

"Forgot something," Cody said as he practically sprinted back to the bathroom, thankful that his towel had the decency to stay in place.

----

Ben took the coldest shower he could stand, trying his best to sober up, trying his best to not think of the expanse of brown skin across a muscular back. He finished dressing and exited the bathroom to find Cody already tucked in bed. He was under the covers but sitting up reading, only looking away from his book momentarily to look at Ben. "I didn't really ask what side of the bed you wanted…"

Ben shook his head as he put away his things, "It doesn't matter at all. I'll sleep wherever you want-- wherever you DON'T WANT…shit." Ben was awfully cute when he got flustered. Cody struggled to keep his face neutral. Ben walked over to his side of the bed and pulled back the covers. He hesitated when he made eye contact with Cody. "I truly don't mind sleeping in the truck. Ocean view!" He laughed nervously.

"Ben, if you mention the truck one more time…" Cody closed his eyes and sighed. He opened them again when he felt the bed dip next to him.

Ben pulled the covers up to his chin and looked over at Cody. Cody almost laughed at the adorable picture Ben made, with his head barely peeking outside the top of the covers.

"I, uh…" Ben hesitated. "It's been a while since I've slept with someone, I mean, in the same bed, you know sleeping, just sleeping...ugh...what I'm trying to say is, I hope I don't kick you in the night or anything. And, feel free to push or nudge me if I do."

Cody raised one eyebrow. Well, at least he looked amused this time, Ben thought. "Noted," Cody finally said. "Do you mind if I read a little longer?"

"Not at all." Ben turned over to face the wall. He could feel Cody’s eyes on his back...or perhaps that was his imagination. He needed to apologize. He couldn’t sleep on the guilt eating him up inside. He turned back over to face Cody who was still reading his book. “Don’t you think this room is rather ugly?”

Cody started, unsure exactly what he had just heard, “Beg pardon?”

Ben hiccuped once unexpectedly which made Cody smile. “The room, it’s ugly. I’m pretty sure this is all original wood paneling on the walls, and perhaps all original decor? Perhaps from when the hotel itself was built...I’d say late 50s?” He looked up at Cody and grinned, and it took every ounce of restraint Cody had to not lean over and kiss him right then. It was just the alcohol, he lied to himself.

Cody stuck a finger in his book to mark his place and closed it. “So you think we should have gotten more of a discount?”

“I’m saying,” Ben started, propping himself up on his elbow. Cody’s attention was caught by the movement of the v-neck on Ben’s shirt, which shifted exposing ginger hair and a freckled chest and clavicle. He quickly looked down at his book and fidgeted. “I’m saying...that yeah, $60 shouldn’t have been the discount price. That should have been like, the starting point - maybe!” Ben jabbed one finger in the air.

Cody laughed at what sort of strange drunk Ben made. He did seem to be holding his liquor well, with a few exceptions, but he was clearly drunk. Which was all the more reason to shut down any advances. He indulged Ben and looked around the room anyway, “You know, I think you might be right. It is rather hideous. At least it’s only one night.”

Ben hummed. He laid back down, staring at the hideous popcorn ceiling. “I just...I wanted to say I’m sorry, Cody.” He swallowed, pointedly not looking in Cody’s direction, which didn’t go unnoticed. He also seemed to be in a little distress, and Cody desperately wanted to reach out and offer him comfort. But he was afraid of where it’d lead. “I’m quite good at making things awkward it seems.”

Cody thought for a moment before saying anything. “It’s fine, Ben.” He finally turned his head so he could make eye contact with him. He put a gentle hand on his shoulder and patted it lightly. “We both had a little too much to drink, and things...happen. We move on.”

Ben slowly nodded. “Move on, yes.” That was good enough of a final confirmation for Ben. “Well then, I’m sure you want to get back to your book, so, goodnight, Cody. Pleasant dreams.”

“Same to you, Ben.”

Before he turned away, Ben took a quick glance at the cover of Cody’s book—it was the one he had recommended to him. He must have bought it at Quinlan’s shop, too. Ben flushed, turned to face the wall again, and willed his heart from hammering out of his chest.

Cody continued to try to read, but really ended up scanning the same paragraph 10 times. He glanced over at Ben, wanting to reach out and run his hands through his still-wet auburn hair. Oh please don't let me make too big of a fool of myself tonight, he thought before giving up and turning off the light.

One more note:

'A Life Less Ordinary' may or may not have been the inspiration for the karaoke scene. lol

[izzy-b-hands]

Dancer Chapter One

This is set in a Post-Golden Circle AU wherein nobody in Kingsman died (aka we still have Merlin, Roxy and JB, but we also got to meet the Statesman folks through...we’ll save that for when I eventually do my rewrite of Golden Circle lol.) 

For now, the point is everyone is alive, and Eggsy has a very important mission he must undertake.

In booty shorts.

For the greater good (and because why couldn’t Rocketman and Kingsman share wardrobes you know. Why not. There is not reason why not is the answer.)

Warning, we get NSFW in this. A lot. Just. Be ready for that. Violence because spies, sex because of lots of things (emotions and other things, you’ll see when you read.) If that ain’t your cup of tea, maybe skip this one. 

And yes, I did title it after the Queen song. 

Shout out and my thanks to @bearkare for helping me figure out how to chop this up into chapters properly; I owe you one big time!!!

My love to all who read/like/reblog!

“These are...necessary?” Eggsy asked, and snapped the waistband of the golden shiny booty shorts. 

“Absolutely,” Harry replied, and handed over another stack of similarly shiny clothing. “These should get you through the rest of the mission without needing any laundry done.” 

“Are they all...” 

“Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth,” Harry smiled. “Besides, these missions can be...fun. I quite enjoyed one I did, in the seventies, in a club where you could-” 

“Oh, you could tell me about that later,” Eggsy interrupted, shoving the stack of multicolored booty shorts into his bag. “A reward for finishing the mission.” 

“It was a swingers club, is what it was.” 

“Aaah, you said it anyway,” Eggsy sighed. “And the tops are all-” 

“Mesh,” Harry finished. “But there are also sweatshirts, in case you get cold.” 

“Booty shorts and mesh shirts in December, how could I possibly get cold,” Eggsy murmured. “Sweatpants?” 

“One pair that I could find, so be careful,” Harry answered, and handed over a pair of Juicy Couture sweats that read ‘Bitch’ in sparkling fake jewels on the back. 

“...you found these?” 

“I did.” 

“So who previously used these here at Kingsman? Just...wondering. Or was that you, at the club? I presume you still go, since you’re keen to talk about it-” 

Harry cut him off with the toss of a pair of heels. 

“Male strippers don’t have to wear these, I thought?” 

“Some do, some don’t,” Harry shrugged. “Most anyone can wear most anything. Give them a try. We’ve got platforms as well, if you’d prefer.” 

“I would, I think. Might break an ankle either way,” Eggsy sighed, and handed back the heels in exchange for a pair of golden, shimmering, chunky platforms. “Shoes for after work?” 

An extra pair of Adidas were the last thing he tossed into his bag for the mission, before taking a final look at himself in the mirror. 

“I don’t know if I can do this.” 

“Why not? You look fantastic, and the club we need you to infiltrate doesn’t even require you to strip every night. Hell, intel has revealed that some of the men that work there don’t even strip, they just work the floor and go about sitting in laps and whatnot. You could stick to that, whatever, so long as you find it.”

Harry’s confident words echoed as he stepped out and headed down the street to the waiting Kingsman cab. ‘It’ was a chemical formula, that the biochemical weapons dealing club owner was threatening to use to create what he called ‘the ultimate weapon.’ Whether that was really true they’d find out after, when they could see the formula and what it actually contained. 

But that all came down to him.

The club was a four hour flight away, in Ibiza. Even on the Kingsman private plane, he was restless, plucking at the elastic edges of the shorts, pacing in the platforms to try and practice balancing in them. 

“Where’s all this coming from?” Merlin asked from the pilot’s seat. “All I can hear is those damned shoes; on a regular plane, you know I’d have to make you sit down, right?” 

“It’s nothing,” Eggsy muttered, even though it was indeed something. Tilde was less than pleased he’d been called in for a mission, and unhappier still that involved him working in a strip club. Never mind that they’d spent weeks arguing over how he could continue to complete his princely duties while staying out of the limelight and skipping public events. She wanted him to be able to show his face and be at her side, but couldn’t understand what it would mean. 

Giving up Kingsman. Giving up the thing that had helped him become the man she loved. 

Or that she might still love. Maybe. He wasn’t so sure anymore. 

But he’d asked Roxy to stay with Tilde, so he could provide them both with mission updates (edited as needed to protect Tilde from the club owner and anyone he might send out should their communiques somehow be discovered) and he hoped she would see that as a sign of his love and care. 

“I don’t believe that,” Merlin sighed. “But we’re nearly there. Have you got everything?” 

‘Everything’ consisted of not just his bag of clothing, but one bag of regular make-up, eco-friendly glitter, pasties that he did not understand the point of his having, and another bag full of...’make-up.’ 

Eyeliner that could be used to essentially draw a fuse on a surface and lit on fire, perfume that was in a super-pressurized nozzle and contained a flesh eating toxin that acted as soon as it hit skin, eye shadows that if brushed on a finger and then dipped in a drink could knock out a bull elephant in a minute (what it would do to a human...well. Better not to think about that, and to use it only if absolutely necessary.) 

That, plus the regular Kingsman kit, of course, carefully hidden in among all three bags, very carefully in the case of the pistols and ammunition. 

All of it banged against his legs as he did his best to look...however he figured he was meant to look. Confident, and not like he was worried about whether or not this was a mission he could pull off, and not like he was worried he might come home to Tilde too upset to be consoled or worse. 

“You!” the man that called out to him from the club’s doorway was a fierce-looking person, literally. A tiger with open mouth was tattooed on the front his neck, down onto his chest, with blood dripping from the fangs. “You’re fucking late! You know, in my day, when they sent a new boy, they sent him on time! No fucking respect for the show anymore, none at all.” 

“I’m sorry, my flight ran late,” Eggsy tried. “But if you let me set my things down, I can get started right away, get out on the floor, serve some drinks, you know.” 

The man scoffed, and pulled him into the doorway, nearly knocking him off his platforms. “Serve some drinks, pah. You’re tonight’s main entertainment. How else is the boss supposed to know if you’re worth the investment money? After all, your agency doesn’t get paid until we see how you work.” 

He led Eggsy by the arm down a dark hall, and shoved open a door which led to a small green room. “And you should know...not many of you work out.” 

“Then I’d be headed home, I suppose,” Eggsy replied as he stepped into the room, taking in the cracking paint on the walls, the cushions with stuffing coming out of them on the couch, and the filthy mirror on the make-up table. 

The man laughed. “Home? Is that what they told you? I thought they weren’t going to lie anymore...ah well. Not my monkey, not my circus, as they say. Sure. You would be sent home, let’s say that. Just hurry the fuck up, get into something good, and when I knock, you take a left, then another left, and come out on stage. We’ll be waiting.” 

Eggsy dropped his bags carefully by the couch, and as soon as the door was closed rifled through the clothing one to find the earpiece hidden in it. 

“Merlin!” 

“Eggsy! Safe and sound then, good to know. Now, I’ll be laying low around town, got myself a little set-up so I can assist you if needed and-” 

“You can assist me by telling me why the fuck none of you warned me they’d want me to strip the first night. I literally just got here, and they want me on stage, now!” Eggsy spat. 

“Okay, alright. Keep calm,” Merlin soothed. “This isn’t like you anyway; are you sure you’re alright?” 

Eggsy sighed, and contemplated spilling his heart to Merlin now. But he couldn’t, not really. For his own sake, and for the sake of the mission. 

“Just...I’m sorry. They made it fairly clear they kill any performer who doesn’t make the cut, so I’m a bit tense, is all.” 

“...sure,” Merlin replied, and Eggsy could hear the disbelief in his voice. “We can talk later, perhaps? Just in case there would be anything else you aren’t telling me. Not that there is! But...if there were.” 

“I’d like that,” Eggsy said softly. “So, any suggestions on...” 

“The stripping? Oh Jesus, no. Could you imagine, me? Be like watching an Ent strip,” Merlin chuckled. “You’ve got this, you’ve done your research, I know you asked us not to watch you practice, but I do know you spent a good few hours in the studio space we rented for you. Just do what you’ve researched, put your heart into it, and you’ll be fine for the night, at least. From there...we’ll figure it out, alright?” 

“Okay,” Eggsy muttered, and hid the earpiece back in its spot. From the bag he pulled a purple glittery mesh tank top, and a black thong that, as far as he could tell, was held together purely with wishes and will for as little material it was made of. Over that went a pair of black velvet booty shorts, and the top-

“Oh good, I caught you before you were all done,” a younger blonde man, his make-up bright gold and glittery with eyeliner winged sharp, in a black feathered mesh robe strode in. “Your agency said they weren’t sending your whole wardrobe, so here-” 

He yanked open an apparently half-broken closet door at the side of the room that Eggsy hadn’t even noticed, to reveal a sea of bright colors and patterns on all variety of clothes. “What you have on looks fine, but he’ll want you to take off more layers than that. I’d say, this, this, and ooh! I bet you look handsome in a suit, so this as well.” 

The man tossed a black T-shirt, a pair of loose tear-away joggers, and a suit jacket and pants towards Eggsy. 

Eggsy stared. “Thanks. Do you-” 

“Oh!” the young man laughed. “Not anymore. No, I oversee. Like a manager, but better, because I don’t have to fuck the boss anymore to keep my pole and my space in the club. Well, at least I said I was done with doing that now.” 

Eggsy realized he must have made a face, because the man laughed again. 

“Oh darling, bless you. How else do you think you keep your spot? Any other club would make you pay to rent the pole, the stage, right? Well, here at El Tigre, we don’t make you do that. You get paid to be here, to do your work. But, in order to stay...” 

The man shrugged. “Life is dirty, and difficult. It could be just as bad anywhere else, so make a garden out of the mulch you’ve got, I say. I’m Evan, by the way.” 

“You aren’t from here, I take it?” 

Evan smiled. “No. I don’t think anyone who dances here is actually from Ibiza. No, the ladies and gentlemen who come in like their...imports, if you will. Even if that means us white-bread boys raised up on fish and chips, you know? And the boss has his tastes as well, and that’s the final say on it, really.” 

Eggsy nodded. “Thank you. For the clothes, and the information. I didn’t realize they’d want me to dance right away, I mean I just got off the plane and made my way over here, and-” 

Evan interrupted him with a hug. “It’s intimidating, I know. And ignore Tony, he’s an ass, but he only hurts people if ordered to. He’s loyal like that.” 

“That man with the tiger on his neck?” Eggsy tried and failed to bite back a giggle. “His name is...Tony.” 

Evan giggled right back. “He hates it, but yeah. We all call him Tony the tiger behind his back. Long as you don’t let him hear you say it, you’re safe. Now, you finish up. Oh, and match your shadow color to the color of your thong. Boss really goes for that.” 

Evan was gone with a clack of his heels and a swish of his robe, and Eggsy wished he’d have stayed. Not even to gain more intel (though it was all good and needed), but just to not be alone in the moment. 

But he managed it, and after choosing a new pair of platforms (shiny black vinyl with purple laces) he made it to the stage. 

The club was empty, except for Evan, sitting on one side of the stage. Tony was on the other. 

And at the end of the stage, dead center, was the man he needed to get close to, close enough to find and steal the chemical formula that might destroy thousands, millions, if sold to the wrong hands.  The club owner, the “boss” as everyone apparently called him, Boniface Gagneux. 

He wasn’t the stereotypical ‘club owner’ at least not in the way movies would show, to Eggsy’s memory. He was sharp-looking both in handsomeness and in the way a canine poked out just a bit from his top lip as he smiled at Eggsy, as though he’d bite if he got too close. His dark hair had just a touch of grey in it at the sides, and the dark suit he wore was beautifully tailored, sprinkled with sewn in tiny rhinestones on the shoulders, so he actually sparkled under the club lighting. 

“Mr. Wyn Morris, we meet at last. I haven’t heard much about you, but-” Gagneux’s eyes traced him from top to bottom. “You look even better than your picture. Hopefully you dance as pretty as you look.” 

Eggsy bit back a comment. That wasn’t what his character, Wyn, would say, not at all. Wyn was happy to be here, and happy to please, even if Gagneux’s glances made him feel sick to his stomach. 

He simply nodded, and the music started. 

The song he didn’t know, but it was something that seemed it would have fit only in setting like this, something about ‘being wanted at seventeen.’ The beat wasn’t too fast, nor too slow, but it took him a minute to find it nonetheless, to roll his hips the way he’d seen in every video lesson he could find online. 

Even with practice, he still felt horribly out of it, and was sure he had to look ridiculous, as he tried to vamp it up, stripping off the suit jacket and tossing it to Evan, who blessedly gave him a smile. 

Gagneux’s face was an imperceptible mask now, watching him with piercing blue eyes. Was he impressed, did he hate it, was he busy worrying if he’d accidentally left the stove on? There was no way to tell. 

The suit pants were rip off just like the leggings beneath them, and those he tossed to Tony, who glared at him so sharply he almost looked for a stab wound. 

Instead, he kept on, and bemoaned that they’d chosen such a long song. Actually spacing out when to rip everything else off was difficult with music he hadn’t used before (and Tilde, upset as she was, had refused to be a practice audience to help him get it right, though he’d begged her to do it, and had thought he might find it all funny.) 

It felt too soon to shed the T-shirt as he strode on-beat further down the stage, but he did it anyway before dropping to his knees and rocking backwards on his haunches, hips gyrating the entire time. It fucking hurt, and he realized he should have used his time on the plane to stretch, not to worry. 

He leaned forward, then crawled a bit further down, locking eyes with Gagneux. Still no change in expression though, not even when he ripped off the joggers and tossed them to a happily laughing Evan, who caught them and hugged them close. Evan was the hype man he desperately needed, and he made a mental note to thank him later for the help as he dropped again to his knees at the end of the stage. 

Gagneux reached a hand forward, and plucked at the string of the thong, then raised an eyebrow at him. 

There had been no mention of that, full frontal. But everything about the damn mission had been a surprise so far, why should this be any different? 

He tossed his mesh tank top to Tony, then with a bit of effort, snapped the string of the thong, and handed it to Gagneux, who had leaned forward so close he could have pulled Eggsy off the stage. 

He half thought that might be what would happen, but instead Gagneux just held the destroyed thong tight, and raised a hand to stop the music. 

“Not bad. Go back, down the hall, and take a right.” 

Eggsy nodded, and slowly stood. “I’ll be a just a moment, to grab some clothes.” 

“No.” Gagneux said softly. “Come as you are.” 

The DJ started up another song once he was off stage, and he could hear Evan chattering to Tony. He wished he could have another moment with him, to ask what to expect now. He had an idea, but hearing it from someone who’d actually been in the moment would have been better. 

Instead, he did as he was told: down the hall, and to the right, into an office. It was elegant, all in black, a black marble desk and black velvet couch. The chair he when to sit on had a towel emblazoned with his fake name, also black, sitting on it. A blessing, he certainly wasn’t about to sit his bare ass on a chair that likely was meant for use by whoever came into Gagneux’s office day-to-day. 

The song that was playing outside filtered in just before Gagneux walked in, then shut the door. The aggressive beat was just audible through it, but Eggsy had a sinking feeling not much else would be audible to anyone listening in on the office from the outside. 

“Look at you,” Gagneux smirked, and ran a hand along Eggsy’s jawline. “Those thighs alone will earn you fans, but with the face? Forget it. You’ll have men and women coming in here begging for you.” 

He sat behind the desk, and chuckled. “That means you’re in, if you weren’t sure.” 

Eggsy laughed lightly. “Good. I’m glad to hear it. We set up a schedule now then, or?” 

Gagneux smiled. “We’ll get to that. First, I need to know you won’t be swayed by any of those offers.” 

“From patrons? No, of course not.” 

“Good. Because, as Evan may have already mentioned, when you’re working for me, you’re mine. Is that understood? Dancing, and the club, and me-those are your three priorities,” Gagneux said, holding up a finger with each word. 

“And myself?” Eggsy asked before he could stop himself. 

But Gagneux just shook his head. “I look after you. Mutual caring: you look after the club and your work and our patrons, and I look after you.” 

Eggsy could swear Gagneux had the DJ doing this on purpose, changing up the music to manipulate the moment, as a slower, but still bopping and more romantic song came on. 

“Come here,” Gagneux stood and walked to the front of the desk, in front of Eggsy. “Stand up.” 

He obeyed, and waited to shiver as Gagneux would presumably do something horrible, or god only knew what else and-

The kiss was soft. And sweet, and not at all what he was expecting. He didn’t mean to kiss back either, but it took him by such surprise, and it was just something else. 

Gagneux pressed his forehead to Eggsy’s, a hand gently holding his chin. “I’m excited to work with you. Tomorrow, starting 22:00, we’ll have you just work the floor, to get used to the place when it’s full. I close completely the days I’m getting new talent in, so what you saw out there is far from the norm. Just lap dances and drinks on the floor. We’ll let you get your sea legs before putting you back onstage, though I don’t think that will take you long. Evan will walk you to your apartment; nobody leaves the club alone is one of my rules.” 

He let go of Eggsy’s chin and moved away from him. “Have a good night, Wyn.” 

Eggsy swallowed hard, and nodded. “You as well, Mr. Gagneux.” 

“Boniface. No need for such formalities here,” Gagneux...or rather, Boniface, said, leaning back against the desk. 

Eggsy nodded again, and picked up the towel before trotting back to the green room, his head spinning, and his heart beating entirely too fast for comfort. 

[smolbeandrabbles]

End Up With You - Johnnie x Reader (Prime Mover)

I wrote this in like an hour after watching the movie...  I’m sorry I love him so much. Help me!

Author’s Note: Yes - he gets a cover, basically because I SWEAR there is one gif on the entire Website even though... he’s just... so... 🥵🔥 I mean I might turn this into a mini-series, I already titled it, as you can see. End Up With You - Carrie Underwood - I might have decided on this simply because of the aesthetic of the lyric video... BUT it also works! Disclaimer: Prime Mover and Associated Characters not mine.  Premise: Dating a truck driver didn’t come easy, and one thing was for sure, you always loved him being back from a run... Words: 1421 Warnings: Innuendos.  🎉  I’ll leave it to you if they’re even talking about the truck or not

_______   I don't really care 'bout making any plans Leave it up in the air, give it up to chance Seein' where it goes, seein' where it lands I just wanna go as fast as we can

And we could end up broke down on some back road Lovin' in the back seat to the radio Wouldn't be the worst scenario 'Cause all I wanna do is end up with you

To the end of the world if you wanted to Don't leave it up to me, I'll leave it up to you 'Cause I just want one thing when the night is through... 

---

There was no such thing as late. There couldn’t be any such thing as late; not in this line of work. There was rarely ever early either; with the amount of miles to cover and the number of hours to do it in, drivers were constantly pushing themselves to the limit to meet required work. Which meant surprising – although nice – was never good. It usually meant he was cutting time out of jobs, and you’d rather not see him at all than for five fleeting minutes before he was dashing back to the cab of his truck and off again. That didn’t mean that even when you knew scheduling, he wouldn’t surprise you at all. And today was one of those nice rarities when it was a good surprise. “OH GOD! Phil-! Are you still using female mechanics-?! Geez  - I’m gonna have to stop coming here!” You leant your head against the truck you were currently working on, but couldn’t stop the chuckle from escaping at the sound of his voice. Asshole! You took a pace back, setting your tools down - and slowly raised your gaze to the man standing in the door way with that grin on his face. “I hope yours doesn’t need anything big doing to it…” You leant against the wall for a second – trying to ignore the elation running through your body at seeing Johnnie for the first time in months “Or this mechanic might just forget what she’s doing…” He ran his tongue between his teeth as he smiled; “…Oh c’mon, you know the only people allowed to touch her is me and you.” “Thought you might be forgetting that…” He still had that grin on his face that you now couldn’t help but mirror; “Miss me?” “As if, asshole.” You pushed yourself from the wall and took several running steps to him. He knew what was coming and braced himself for your jump. You wrapped yourself around him, and couldn’t help but let out a contented sigh at the feeling of being in his embrace again. And then he kissed you, and it was like electric fire. The first one was always the best one, and the last by far the worst… But that was the way you lived. He would leave you, and you would stay here until he came back. And you’d always wait for him to turn back to you hold his hand out and ask you to ride with him for this one; Aw, it’s a long trek… It’s gonna get pretty lonely… Phil often let you go, because he could tease your significant other if he did that; God, yeah, you better go – he’s gonna need a hell of a mechanic on a trip like that with the way he goes. Then you’d have to push him back to his truck (laughing) before retaliation got neither of you anywhere fast… Of course, that was both a blessing and a curse. Because you reckoned, even though with you there he should be more careful, Johnnie took it to heart that he had a good mechanic with him and decided he could be just that little bit more reckless… Which often just left him leaning against his truck as you fixed it on the highway in a pretty bad mood. You guessed that was all part of the fun for him though, because without fail he’d make a sweeping statement about you maybe having to stay out here. And then getting promptly shut down with a scathing look from you ‘If you think you’re getting that out here with your truck in this state…!!!’ Johnnie tipped his body back in order to balance you, whilst running one hand through your hair – the other dangerously close to wending its way up your shirt. This making out continued for a few minutes until Phil sighed; “Jesus, you two-! That’s enough! Get a room..!” Johnnie barely pulled away enough to retaliate; “Come off it! It’s been like, what, 4 months!?” Phil waved his hand across the yard to the neatly parked vehicles, all of their drivers currently having well-earned rest (save one, anyway); “What, and you can’t walk back over to your truck first..!?” “Why the hell do you think I’m here – I need a fix!” “Yeah… I’m sure that your truck is really what you’re thinking of…” “OH F-” You pushed a finger to his lips; “Okay… Okay…” You hushed him as you hopped down, “That’s enough.” “Did you hear what he just said-!?” You swayed your head; yes, but… “I’m aware that he also employs me…” Johnnie grumbled to himself but remained fairly silent besides that, which earned him you closing the gap again for another kiss. “What’s wrong with it?” “Regular maintenance – I didn’t do anything stupid…” He knew that smile that ran across your face, “…Mmm hmmm…” Tell me another “I’ll take a look…” Your arms folded between the two of you as he took you back in his own; “I missed you…” “I know…” you whispered gently as he pushed you back against the chrome plating of someone else’s truck that you’d just spent the last 3 hours on, his lips found yours again. You were lucky that you knew Phil wouldn’t be clock watching – he trusted you to do your job and you did it well. You weren’t sure how the owner of the vehicle you were now pressed up against would feel about your hand prints all over it, though. This time you had to breathe; “How long are you back?” You didn’t say home. You didn’t want to say home… There was too much hope in calling it home… He gave a shrug; “A couple of days…” He pulled back enough to look at the roster sheets that lined the back wall. His was blank – for now “…Until something gets posted there. But you know how it goes. I won’t be back more than a week.” “Couple of days is still better than hours.” “Shhh-! You’ll jinx it…!” He claimed your lips rougher this time, which had you wrapping your arms around his neck again, and him pushing you up the grill of the truck. Phil wasn’t going to like this one bit. Indeed he wasn’t. And he cleared his throat. Johnnie pulled away from you with a roll of his eyes; “What?!” “Got something for me?” “Yeah it’s back in my truck – what is your problem!?” “Can you please leave my mechanic alone to do her job! Or you can have one of those.” He jerked his thumb over his shoulder at the papers attached to everyone’s clipboards. Johnnie took a deep breath, that wasn’t an invitation for banter – but a warning, and this time even his arms left you, “Yeah, I’ll go get it.” 90% of the time Phil was good to you, and if he could he’d keep paper from Johnnie’s roster until he had absolutely no choice but to put them there. And you appreciated that. But sometimes, because of his experience there were runs that Phil would only trust your other half with – and even when he came back here on a scheduled stop, he’d be off again less than an hour later. And that was without counting depots wanting him to do other work around the country. “I better get my duty papers… don’t go anywhere gorgeous.” He winked, making you shake your head again; “I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be. I’m going to go back to working.” He laughed; “Not if I can help it!” “Then maybe you’d like to tell the pissed off owner why I’ve not completed repairs.” “Easy, your boyfriend needs servicing and is far more important.” You opened your mouth as the cheekiness of his almost serious facial expression, and found yourself folding your arms again. Then thought better of it, and flicked your eyes up and down what he was wearing; “Well… you are wearing my favourite leather jacket… But it’s only worth it if I can steal it.” “Oh no…” He took a pace back “Last time that happened I forgot it… How can I complete a run without this?” He put his hands in his pockets to fan the jacket out for you. “Ugh-!” You placed your hand against your heart; “You’re killin’ me, go get your paper work – boss is waiting…!” “Don’t forget which truck is the most important.” “I’ll get to her.” “She can wait until after me-!” “Oh don’t worry, I know just how to fix you up…” “Damn right…” You couldn’t see his grin, now he’d turned around and slid his sunshades on – but you could hear it. He held his hand up, in a casual wave goodbye. But only for a few minutes – not the months you were used to, and he walked back towards his gleaming red truck; even with the runs he did, you were glad to see he always took care of her. You bit your lip watching him walk away. If you had your way, and you would, you’d be wearing that jacket by the time the sun went down.

---

@dennismitchell @happyskywhale @wltz-bby #MendoTagSquad.

[garbagequeer]

hey hello im writing a piece for laptop ensemble that involves sampling and i need the most repressed/tender/yearning quotes you got. just as gay and heart wrenching as you can. but also no pressure I know youre a stranger on the web I just feel like you post that kind of stuff a lot thank you bye

hope this isnt like too late school keeps me busy :( (also can you put a read more on asks? guess i’ll find out). i ended up choosing many quotes from the same texts cause im indecisive as shit but i’ll bold my favorites from those in case that makes it easier for you!

anyways first of all you can never go wrong w richard siken as obvious as that is. these are both from you are jeff

You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and he won’t tell you that he loves you, but he loves you. And you feel like you’ve done something terrible, like robbed a liquor store, or swallowed pills, or shoveled yourself a grave in the dirt, and you’re tired. You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and you’re trying not to tell him that you love him, and you’re trying to choke down the feeling, and you’re trembling, but he reaches over and he touches you, like a prayer for which no words exist, and you feel your heart taking root in your body, like you’ve discovered something you don’t even have a name for.

Let’s say you’ve swallowed a bad thing and now it’s got its hands inside you. This is the essence of love and failure. You see what I mean but you’re happy anyway, and that’s okay, it’s a love story 

this one’s from planet of love (the format got fucked bc tumblr is not actually a finctional website but :/ )

I have a megaphone and you play along,                                                                 because you want to die for love,                                                            you always have.     Imagine this:You’re pulling the car over. Somebody’s waiting.                      You’re going to die                                            in your best friend’s arms.             And you play along because it’s funny, because it’s written down,you’ve memorized it,

from litany in which certain things are crossed out 

I make you pancakes, I take you hunting, I talk to you as if you’re            really there.Are you there, sweetheart? Do you know me? Is this microphone live?                                                       Let me do it right for once,

sorry about the scene at the bottom of the stairwell                                    and how I ruined everything by saying it out loud.            Especially that, but I should have known.You see, I take the parts that I remember and stitch them back together            to make a creature that will do what I sayor love me back.

We were inside the train car when I started to cry. You were crying too,            smiling and crying in a way that made meeven more hysterical. You said I could have anything I wanted, but I                                                                                just couldn’t say it out loud.Actually, you said Love, for you,                             is larger than the usual romantic love. It’s like a religion. It’s                                                                                                 terrifying. No one                                                                        will ever want to sleep with you.

from snow and dirty rain

I had a dream about you. We were in the gold roomwhere everyone finally gets what they want.

that scene from when harry met sally where sally says:

One day I was taking Alice’s little girl fro the afternoon. I’d promised to take her to the circus, and we were in a cab playing “I spy” - you know, “I spy a lamppost”, “I spy a mailbox” - and she looked out the window and there was this man and this woman with two little kids, and the man had one of the kids on his shoulders, and Alice’s little girl said “I spy a family”, and I satrted crying, you know? I just started crying, and I went home

(like anyone else sometimes cries when u see a family doing something nice? is it because i want to participate in a sense of family of my own but have been excluded as a gay person from it’s portrayals and it makes me go :^( cause i dont feel there’s room for me there but i want there to be and i just have to long for this nuclear family heteronormative way of life that i’ve been made to believe is idylic? is it because my parents got divorced and my dad’s an ass and my mom is just a very angry lady and i want to re-do my own childhood? who knows. should we ban movies? yes we should!)

from maurice (ultimate source of tender)

“There was something better in life than this rubbish, if only he could get to it, love, nobility, big spaces where passion clasped peace, spaces no science could reach, but they existed for ever, full of woods some of them, and arched with majestic sky and a friend”

‘Did you ever dream you had a friend, Alec? Nothing else but just “my friend”, he trying to help you and you him. A friend’ he repeated, sentimental suddenly. ‘Someone to last your whole life and you his. I suppose such a thing can’t really happen outside sleep’

we are all so lucky i don’t actually own maurice in english this would just turn into me quoting the whole book

ee cummings voices to voices, lip to lip

the thing perhaps isto eat flowers and not to be afraid.

from virgina woolf’s letters to vita

7 september 1925

january 21 1926 vita writes

I am reduced to a thing that wants Virginia. I composed a beautiful letter to you in the sleepless nightmare hours of the night, and it has all gone: I just miss you, in a quite simple desperate human way. You, with all your un-dumb letters, would never write so elementary phrase as that; perhaps you wouldn’t even feel it. And yet I believe you’ll be sensible of a little gap. But you’d clothe it in so exquisite a phrase that it would lose a little of its reality. Whereas with me it is quite stark: I miss you even more than I could have believed; and I was prepared to miss you a good deal. So this letter is just really a squeal of pain. It is incredible how essential to me you have become. I suppose you are accustomed to people saying these things. Damn you, spoilt creature; I shan’t make you love me any the more by giving myself away like this—But oh my dear, I can’t be clever and stand-offish with you: I love you too much for that. Too truly. You have no idea how stand-offish I can be with people I don’t love. I have brought it to a fine art. But you have broken down my defences. And I don’t really resent it …

and on january 26 virginia writes back

Your letter from Trieste came this morning—But why do you think I don’t feel, or that I make phrases? ‘Lovely phrases’ you say which rob things of reality. Just the opposite. Always, always, always I try to say what I feel. Will you then believe that after you went last Tuesday—exactly a week ago—out I went into the slums of Bloomsbury, to find a barrel organ. But it did not make me cheerful … And ever since, nothing important has happened—Somehow its dull and damp. I have been dull; I have missed you. I do miss you. I shall miss you. And if you don’t believe it, you’re a longeared owl and ass. Lovely phrases? … 

from virginia’s diary, about vita on december 21 1925

I like her and being with her and the splendour–she shines in the grocer’s shop in Sevenoaks with a candle lit radiance, stalking on legs like beech trees, pink glowing, grape clustered, pearl hung.

from virginia woolf’s to the light house

What device for becoming, like waters poured into one jar, inextricably the same, one with the object one adored? Could the body achieve, or the mind, subtly mingling in the intricate passages of the brain? or the heart? Could loving, as people called it, make her and Mrs Ramsay one? for it was not knowledge but unity that she desired, not inscriptions on tablets, nothing that could be written in any language known to men, but intimacy itself, which is knowledge, she had thought, leaning her head on Mrs Ramsay’s knee. Nothing happened. Nothing! Nothing! as she leant her head against Mrs Ramsay’s knee. And yet, she knew knowledge and wisdom were stored up in Mrs Ramsay’s heart.

Love had a thousand shapes. There might be lovers whose gift it was to choose out the elements of things and place them together and so, giving them a wholeness not theirs in life, make of some scene, or meeting of people (all now gone and separate), one of those globed compacted things over which thought lingers, and love plays.

there forced themselves upon her other things, her own inadequacy, her insignificance, keeping house for her father off the Brompton Road, and had much ado to control her impulse to fling herself (thank Heaven she had always resisted so far) at Mrs Ramsay’s knee and say to her—but what could one say to her? “I’m in love with you?” No, that was not true. “I’m in love with this all,” waving her hand at the hedge, at the house, at the children. It was absurd, it was impossible 

(fun fact: the spanish translation adds something that i’d translate as “one could not say what one meant / what one wanted to say”, which i really like and i was disapointed to find out isnt on the english edition)

It was love, she thought, pretending to move her canvas, distilled and filtered; love that never attempted to clutch its object; but, like the love which mathematicians bear their symbols, or poets their phrases, was meant to be spread over the world and become part of the human gain. So it was indeed. The world by all means should have shared it  

from the great gatsby

I didn’t want to go to the city. I wasn’t worth a decent stroke of work but it was more than that—I didn’t want to leave Gatsby. I missed that train, and then another, before I could get myself away (…) Just before I reached the hedge I remembered something and turned around. ‘They’re a rotten crowd,’ I shouted across the lawn. ‘You’re worth the whole damn bunch put together.’ I’ve always been glad I said that. It was the only compliment I ever gave him

from kafka’s diaries

may 27 1911: Today is your birthday, but I am not even sending you the usual book, for it would be only pretence; at bottom I am after all not in position to give you a book. I am writing only because it is so necessary for me today to be near you for a moment

parts from a from a letter he wrote to oskar pollak on february 4 1902

When we talk together the words are hard; we tread over them as if they were rough pavement. The most delicate things acquire awkward feet and we can’t help it. We’re almost in each other’s way; I bump into you and you - I don’t dare and you. When we come to things that are not exactly cobblestones or the Kunstwart, we suddenly see that we are in masquerade, acting with angular faces (especially me, I admit), and then we become sad and bored. Does anyone make you as bored as I do?

then I fall silent and you fall silent and you become bored, and I become bored and it’s all like a stupid hangover and there’s no use lifting a hand. But neither wants to say this to the other, out of shame or fear or - You see, we are afraid of each other, or I am.

Of course I understand it. It’s boring to stand for years in front of an ugly wall and it just won’t crumble away. Of course, but the wall is afraid for itself, fro the garden (if there is one), and you get out of sorts, yawn, have headaches, don’t know where to turn

You often talk with her, not only for the sake of talking. You walk around with her somewhere here or there, or in Roztok, and i sit at my desk at home. You talk with her, and in the middle of a sentence somebody jumps up and makes a bow. That is me with my untrimmed words and angular faces. That lasts only a moment, and then you go on talking. I sit at my desk at home and yawn. I’ve been trhough it already. Wouldn’t that separate us? Is that so strange? Are we enemies? I am very fond of you

from his leters to milena

Last night I dreamed about you. What happened in detail I can hardly remember, all I know is that we kept merging into one another. I was you, you were me. Finally you somehow caught fire.

jane wong. from clearing

We want to believe everything has meaning.Plums blossom over a power grid

and I am in love again. The shame of it.

from leslie harrison’s [sirens]

I’m not Penelope married to faith married to waitingbound in fine soft strands of silk dyed and stretchedin my world longing has teeth and fins has a tastefor blood longing is a room built entirely of knives

Lorde’s melodrama tour interlude

Don’t you wish you could go inside a heart, see the strings and atrium’s, everything beating and bleeding. It’s kind of funny, I spend almost every minute thinking about love. Being guided, and divided by love. But I’ve never seen it. It’s just a rumour, a comedown, an afterglow. I wanna see it, in colour. In the summer, I can almost picture it

from Andrea Long Chu’s on liking women

One day, you tell yourself, it will give you what you want. Then, one day, it doesn’t. Now it dawns on you that your object will probably never give you what you want. But this is not what’s disappointing, not really. What’s disappointing is what happens next: nothing. You keep your object. You continue to follow it around, stash it in a drawer, water it, tweet at it. It still doesn’t give you what you want—but you knew that. You have had another realization: not getting what you want has very little to do with wanting it. Knowing better usually doesn’t make it better. You don’t want something because wanting it will lead to getting it. You want it because you want it

ada limón, In a Mexican Restaurant I Recall How Much You Upset Me

But love is impossible and it goes ondespite the impossible. You’re the muscleI cut from the bone and still the boneremembers, still it wants (so much, it wants)the flesh back, the real thing,if only to rail against it, if onlyto argue and fight, if only to missa solve-able absence.

i dont think i need to get into mitski songs because you probably already know but basically pink in the night/come into the water/once more to see you/in happy when she says if you’re going take the train so i can hear it rumble one last rumble/in i want you from the first verse to the first time she goes “i just need a quiet place where i can scream how i love you” (YES the card thing is very important)/the first verse of i will (w emphasis on everything you feel is good i f you wold only let you)/abbey/strawberry blond

sufjan steven’s futile devices obviously predatory wasp of the palisades you know the drill 

was going to find some twin fantasy lyrics but i started thinking about famous prophets (minds) and like. emotionally left my body so. i wont be thinking about it or any other songs anymore it makes me too crazy

from frances ha

It’s that thing when you’re with someone and you love them and they know it and they love you and you know it but it’s a party and you’re both talking to other people and you’re laughing and shining and you look across the room and catch each other’s eyes. But not because you’re possessive, or it’s precisely sexual, but because that is your person in this life and it’s funny and sad but only because this life will end and it’s this secret world that exists right there. In public. Unnoticed. That no one else knows about. It’s sort of like how they say that other dimensions exist all around us but we don’t have the ability to perceive them. That’s what I want out of a relationship. Or just life, I guess.

from ellen lee’s notes on twin fantasy that i revisit constantly

there’s no going back to deliver these words to the ones they were really meant for. That’s how heartbreak feels, I guess. It feels like your heart in between the teeth of someone who’s looking away. When you’ve lost your loved object, what happens to all the things you have to say to them? When they’re turned away, what happens to all the things that you couldn’t, but desperately need(ed) to, say to their face? He dissociates himself from his own romance until it becomes a fantasy. You have your bleeding heart, you have a finite set of memories — when nothing new enters and you’re unwilling to let go, then you have a fantasy. The loved object enters into you and transforms.

the journey home by dermot bolger(havent read this at all dont really plan to/dont know a thing about it either i just came across this shit like 2 years ago and i still think about it)

I wanted to hurt him; I wanted just to touch him. What I wanted I’m not really sure. If he had stopped and opened his arms I would have walked towards him; I would have sat on the kerb all night with him

adam b, sweet i have a (really gay) heart

i feel like my body is the extension of a lake. i feel really badabout not telling you the truth, sometimes. i feelreally small next to you. tall boys remind me of bean stalks.i wish i had your legs. i wish i could know your handsbefore i even touch them

aaaand i think that’s all i could think of and track down, hope this is actually helpful and not too long (i am indecisive no kidding). also ksjdfg it’s nice that you thought to ask me this and i did have fun going over all these quotes so thank you 💖💖💖