#the formatting - as always for slightly longer stuff like this - is better on ao3

[sad-goomy]

iron & cream - fantasy

Day 4 of Bederia Week

Read the rest on Ao3

Bede makes a strange first impression on everyone in Postwick.

It doesn’t help that he has to watch himself, has to carefully mind his wording lest he accidentally gain control of someone’s name, or have them incur a debt, and while Victor and Gloria’s mother brush it off with polite smiles, Hop is...

Well, he’s Hop.

They meet on the second day of his visit, just outside the pub in Wedgehurst that Hop and Victor have taken to frequenting, and he sticks his hand out with a wide smile as he greets with a small-town charm that must come second-nature to him, “Take it you’re the infamous Bede, then? The one who’s been keeping our Gloria out of trouble.”

Gloria clicks her tongue in disapproval while Victor smirks at her, and Bede only stares at the outstretched hand being offered. There’s no harm in him shaking hands with a mortal, he knows this, and yet he finds that the very idea of shaking Hop’s hand makes him want to gag. He looks back up at the boy’s face as his smile falters slightly, and Bede realizes just what’s wrong here.

Hop is exactly the type who’s terrorized him in his life, the boy who’s nearly a local celebrity and rides the coattails of a family legacy while having fun pointing and laughing at the local weirdo who comes from nothing.

(Never mind that he hasn’t done anything like that in the past thirty seconds, and that some of this bias might be due to how long he hugged Gloria upon seeing her.)

“You may call me Bede,” he finally replies, when the silence stretches just south of uncomfortable, his hands still buried deep into the pockets of his coat as he puts a little extra sneer in his tone, “And what may I call you?”

Gloria elbows him sharply in the side, but he doesn’t flinch, instead focusing all of his attention on puffing up his chest, on using all his old tactics to make it clear that he isn’t one to be needled and poked at like a science experiment. Hop blinks, taking back his hand as he shares a look with Victor and an uneasy chuckle slips past his lips. “Bit formal, innit?”

His fae pride bristles, and he opens his mouth to snap something far less playful back when Gloria beats him to the punch, nearly stepping between the two as she quickly supplies, “Ballonlea thing.” She turns to look up at Bede, her voice tight and glare warning. “You can call him Hop.”

Then, as if this can’t get any worse, Hop gives him another bright smile and slings his arm around Bede’s shoulders, the fae flinching at how casual this all is, as Hop leads him into the pub with a laugh. “Didn’t mean to poke fun at it, mate – first round is on me.”

This is the moment Bede decides he hates Hop.

...

Of course, try as he might to avoid Hop, Bede’s still forced to be around him if he wants to spend any actual time with Gloria during the holiday.

She calls him out on it once, when they’re taking off their boots and coats at the front door. Gloria fixes him with a look as Victor quickly scurries off to the kitchen, clearly sensing the tension in the air.

“Play nice.”

“I’m perfectly polite,” he jabs back, adjusting his sweater.

She rolls her eyes and crosses her arms with a pout. “You’re bloody frigid with Hop is what you are. He’s been nothing but kind to you, but every time he says something to you, I swear you’re going to send an evil eye his way.”

And to be fair, he nearly did on the walk back just now, when Hop caught him staring at a baby in the family they passed – strange side effect of fae heritage, a growing fascination in human children and their delicate fates – and pointed it out. It was a lighthearted joke, something about being a family man that Bede’s already forgotten, but it was still enough to have him consider manifesting a patch of ice under Hop’s feet.

Gloria sighs, shoulders slumping as her eyes turn into a plea. His stomach drops a little as he feels the disappointment radiating off of her, can see the dulling of her aura as she pleads, “You don’t have to be his new best friend, but please, I really want you to get along a little. He’s like my second brother and you’re...”

He holds her gaze, and his heart beats faster as her cheeks grow pink. It’s just a second of hesitation, but then she’s clearing her throat, looking down at her mismatched socks as her aura blooms, warm and radiant and all for him.

“You’re really important to me.”

Something in him melts, and he feels heat crawling up his neck and over his cheeks as he pulls at his shirt collar, desperate to cover his face.

“...I’ll be nicer.”

She looks up with a lopsided smile and takes a step closer, wrapping her arms around his neck and drowning him in a warmth that he finds harder and harder to live without as she whispers into the crook of his neck, “Thank you.”

This is the moment Bede decides he can tolerate Hop.

...

It occurs to him in the space between Christmas and New Years that he hasn’t had cream in a while.

Unfortunately, it occurs to him at two in the morning and in a slight craze, as his stomach clenches and he tries to not stumble loudly down the steps from the guest room and to the kitchen. He opens the fridge, eyes scanning for anything that could fill the craving that’s clawing at his insides, but finds nothing immediately.

As he continues to dig around, shuffling tupperware and condiments, he misses the light footsteps coming into the kitchen from the living room.

“Oi mate, everything all right?”

Bede does not shriek, mind you, but he certainly jumps several inches into the air and lets out a noise that has him convinced he’s just woken up everyone else in the house.

Miraculously, there’s no movement upstairs, leaving him to turn slowly and find Hop (who had crashed on the couch after a movie marathon with Victor) scratching at his side underneath his shirt, one eye closed and the other barely cracked open.

“Take that as a ‘no’ then,” he mumbles through a yawn.

Bede doesn’t even consider coming up with some acidic retort, because he promised Gloria and he’s also in dire straits. Instead, he swallows his pride as best he can and takes a deep breath before fixing Hop with a look that’s so somber, it has the other boy actually waking up.

“I need cream.”

Hop blinks, eyes flickering from Bede’s face to the glowing fridge behind him. “Like, literal cream or...?”

“Yes, literal,” he huffs, turning to close the fridge door and leaving them in the low light of the moon through the kitchen window – which is somehow making this entire situation worse – and explaining, “I think they’ve run out.”

“Well, the closest grocery store is in Wedgehurst, and they don’t open until eight. Can you uh, wait until then?”

Bede gives him a look that communicates, even in the dark, that he absolutely cannot wait until then. His body is already screaming at him, and he suspects if he goes another hour without it, he may very well lose what little control he has over his powers. The last thing he needs is to out himself as a fae to Gloria’s family and best friend by turning someone’s hair green over a cream deficiency.

Hop gets the message loud and clear, chuckling under his breath as he holds his hands up in surrender. “Whoa, okay, got it.”

Without another word, Hop turns and exits out of the kitchen, heading towards the front door. Bede raises a brow, confusion cutting through his haze as he follows and watches the other boy throw on his coat and pull on his shoes.

“What on earth are you doing?”

“Popping over to my place real quick.” Hop pats his left coat pocket, checking for something that is apparently there since he smiles and nods. “My mum’s a big baker, she’ll definitely have heavy cream. Just a pint okay?”

He’s not sure what he expected, but it surprises Bede all the same as he mumbles, “Yeah, that’s enough.”

“Right then, be right back.”

The front door clicks closed quietly behind him, leaving Bede to stand in the front hall and wonder what the hell is happening. He paces, losing track of time as the cream craving comes back and fogs his mind, along with questions of why on earth Hop is being so damn nice to him. It’s not like he’s been much better than stand-offish at best, and he’d be hard-pressed to walk in the cold in the middle of the night to get something out of his own fridge for a near stranger.

By the time Hop knocks on the door and Bede lets him in, he’s no closer to an answer other than inching closer to the realization that Hop is actually nothing like the boys who used to torment him in primary school; there’s a reason Gloria keeps him around, after all.

When Bede’s swallowed half the pint of heavy cream in a single gulp, clarity comes back to him. He wipes the back of his mouth, looking to Hop, who watches the whole thing with more than a little curiosity but not a single word.

“I owe you.”

It’s less an expression of gratitude and more a statement of fact, as Bede can see his aura intermingling with Hop’s now, pink and indigo linking as his fae nature compels him to return the favor.

But Hop just shakes his head, his arms behind his head as he stretches out his back and gives Bede a smile. “All good, although...actually yeah, I guess I sort of have a favor to ask.” When Bede remains silent, Hop continues on, growing sheepish as he mumbles, “Just, uh, can you keep looking out for Glo? She was real nervous moving all the way out to Ballonlea, and I’m glad she has someone like you around to keep her head on her shoulders.”

Bede takes another sip of cream, fixes Hop with a look, and feels the last of his acidity towards him fade out of his body as a corner of his lips quirk up.

“Of course I will.”

And in the morning, when Bede wakes up with the cold dread of Hop bringing up this entire ordeal to everyone and making fun of him, he finds that Hop keeps quiet about it, instead making conversation about how everyone slept and how he can help with breakfast.

This is the moment Bede decides he likes Hop.

...

New Year’s in Postwick actually takes place in a pub in Wedgehurst, which immediately becomes more crowded when Hop’s brother arrives with his girlfriend, Sonia (and it takes Bede no less than five minutes to recover from the fact that Hop is related to Leon, Leon of Wyndon United, Leon the star footballer nicknamed the Champion of Galar).

As they get closer to the actual countdown, Gloria tugs on his hand and leads him to the backroom, away from the crowd. He follows along, more than happy to actually have room to breathe for once tonight, and maybe a little happy that he’s alone with her in a hallway by the bathrooms as she rests her head on his shoulder and keeps holding his hand.

She looks up at him, eyes slightly hazy with the two glasses of cheap champagne in her system, and she sighs with a smile, “Thanks again for coming.”

He nods, doesn’t have anything else to say that won’t give him away, because he may also be slightly tipsy but it’s certainly not enough to have him really letting go of his multitude of inhibitions.

“And for giving Hop a chance,” she mumbles, thinking for a moment before adding with a giggle, “I know he gives you a hard time sometimes, but that’s how you know he likes you.”

The countdown is starting in the front, muffled all the way back here, but it seems to be the catalyst Bede needs to lean down closer to her, gripping her hand tighter as he looks into her eyes with a smirk.

“He might be the only one who likes me.”

Gloria seems to get the same idea, feel the same string of tension holding them back snap as the crowd chants the final seconds of this past year away.

“Now we both know that’s not true.”

The pub crowd roars as the new year rolls around, but Bede can’t hear it because Gloria’s kissing him and it’s even better than what he’s been imagining ever since they got on the train to Postwick. She has one hand on his cheek and the other on his chest, right above his heart as she presses her lips to his with that lopsided smile he loves so much, and she’s warm and green and he swears there are sparks.

Then there are actual sparks and Gloria pulls back with a slight yelp that turns into a laugh as Bede groans, resigning himself to his fate of jolts of glittering magic zapping off his body and into his air, unable to control it and unable to really care.

At least, not until a familiar voice gasps behind him, “Mate are you sparkling?”

They pale, slowly turning to find Hop standing in the hall, a party horn dangling out of the corner of his mouth as he watches Bede glitter and sparkle with wide, confused eyes.

This is the moment when Bede realizes he has to tell Hop he’s part fae.

[cellsshapedlikestars]

2022 end-of-year fic review ✨

thanks so much to @vivilove-jonsa for tagging me! I’m putting this under a cut because ya girl can get wordy

1. what’s your ao3 account?

ganymede_elegy

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2. how many words did you write in total in 2022?

434,360. oops

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3. how many fics did you publish in 2022 // multi-chapter vs. one-shots?

8 multi-chapter (I’m counting ephemera in this because I’m lazy), 6 one-shots, 2 follow up one-shots.

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4. what was your longest-fic // shortest fic?

longest: you on the run (73,410)

shortest: say anything (2,290) (possibly something from ephemera, but I’m too lazzzyyyy)

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5. what was your most popular // least popular?

my most popular are always the ones I dub my “rom-coms”, and the least popular are always my darker stuff, but I also think longer fics tend to be more popular too, so because I need things to be very organized, I’ll split them up.

multi-chapters:

-most: take me out

-least: the ghost inside

one-shots:

-most: i’ve got your number

-least: red lights mean you’re leaving

(see! this tracks with rom-coms vs dark lol)

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6. what fic didn't perform as well as you thought it would?

I don’t know. Because I have terrible anxiety, I always feel like the thing I’m currently writing is the least performing and then once it’s completed I go “oh! the response it got was so nice!!” no matter what it is. Like I was slightly disappointed the ghost inside didn’t do 'better' because I personally adored it and had it sitting around half written for years, but also I posted 4 chapters in 4 days for the event, and the tags are SUPER off-putting. So is the format. And the subject matter.

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7. what fic performed way better than you thought it would?

i’ve got your number. It was a one-shot that did a lot better than I was expecting. But I personally love it and I’m so glad everyone else did, too.

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8. what was your favorite fic you wrote in 2022?

very tough. I think help me out of the shape I’m in is the one I’m the most proud of, though half of it was written in 2021. But I’m also really proud of sketches of what was there before, if only because it’s the only thing I’ve written that wasn’t shippy (in this fandom). This question is hard because as I’ve said before, I write for me and so I have a deep fondness for everything I’ve written (with some exceptions lol)

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9. what was your favorite fic that somebody else wrote in 2022? 

OOF I’m so bad at this. I’ve already admitted I don’t read a ton of fic anymore, and I also get SO anxious about leaving people out or making anyone feel not included? I also just plain can’t remember because time is an illusion. So I'm choosing a bunch?? These are not the only great fics though!!

I always love me some good @thewolvescalledmehome fics, like Reach Out With Both Hands and currently enjoying On the Edge of a World so Cold

@vivilove-jonsa​‘s you give me goosebumps was such a fun ride to start off the new year

Late Night by @justadram​ because I always love reading fics where it feels like the writer is very interested in/knows a lot about the subject

Death and the Dancer by @sibyldisobedience​ because I LOVE ghost/spooky stories

The Man Called Snow by annie_loves_starwarsstories just updated and reminded me that I also love historical fic

I did consume a LOT of Edissy fic this summer, but I also fell pretty quickly out of it and can no longer remember what I read & liked

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10. tag your friends so they can play as well

@hilarychuff​ @northernladywriter​ @sibyldisobedience​ @justhereforfandomandfriends​ @mkstrigidae and whoever else wants to play! I’d love to see them

[obsidianfr3sk]

Shooting Star

@renegades-ship-weeks - Renegades Ship Week #1 | Humon - Dancing

Summary: Maybe it was the fact that Simon wasn’t aware of Max’s weird tendency to sleep when they played upbeat songs. Or maybe that he had never heard that song. He had seen him dancing at public events, with him or with other members of the Council. He had also seen him dancing during their wedding day, and he was dancing with him. But he hadn’t seen him dancing like that before.

AO3

SKDJFJHDSJ IT’S TODAY, IT’S TODAY SDKFJHJDSK TODAY THE RENEGADES SHIP WEEK STARTS TODAY AND WHAT BETTER WAY TO START IT WITH SOME RENEGAYS CONTENT <3

Ok, so this... is kind of a songfic (? I thought the format fitted the prompt better. The song I choose for this is Shooting Star by Owl City (thank you, Dawnie, for letting me know about its existance uwu). I’d recommend you hear the song before reading this or when the dancing scene arrives (you’ll know, don’t worry). 

None of this would be possible without the help of the amazing  @greasicookies. Thanks for hosting this event✨ I don’t know if there has been another thing like this before, but this is actually my first ship weeks in this fandom and I’m so exited!! I hope we can get a lot more! And for those who are still thinking about participating or not, go for it c:

Thank you so much for reading and I hope you enjoy!✨

Tag list: @honey-hippie-harper @healing-winston-pratt @lackadae @the-wee-woo-rita @dt-everwoods @greenalmond 

When the sun goes down and the lights burn out,

then it's time for you to shine

brighter than a shooting star.

So shine no matter where you are.

Enough time had passed for him to forget the first time he danced with Hugh.

It was one of the downsides of knowing someone for a long time. The first time they probably danced together was to some tune they heard on the radio in the living room of one of their houses, the park, or the street, but it happened when he was so young, that now, Simon couldn’t remember what song it was, if the sky was blue that day, or how the concept of dancing looked like for them at that age.

But one of the advantages of knowing someone for a long time was that you were constantly making memories with them. So, for him, the first time he really danced with Hugh, was during their wedding day. And it was beautiful and romantic, and if he could live inside a moment for the rest of his existence, it would be that one.

And he didn’t even feel embarrassed while he was doing it.

Not that he was embarrassed to dance with his husband in public. It was something he had… thought about. That maybe there was still someone inside of him that was constantly telling him he was wrong, that his feelings were wrong, and that everything that Hugh represented was also wrong, and since he was thinking about that stuff in the middle of the night, he woke up Hugh to tell him that he loved him (to which Hugh responded, “Okay. I don't love it when you wake me up though.")

The next day, Adrian was invited to a birthday party. He was super excited because it was the first birthday party he attended after the Age of Anarchy. Adrian hadn’t looked that happy in months, and even though Simon didn’t feel like going, he did, just so he could share that little moment of happiness with his son. The three of them walked down the street to the house where the party was being hosted, and it didn’t take long for Adrian to join the other kids.

Hugh and Simon sat down at an empty table. They didn’t mind being the only ones there because, at least, they could talk to each other. Although, now that Simon remembered, they were, like, a feet apart from each other, and that morning, after he got out of the shower, he saw Hugh standing in front of the mirror while wearing a random shirt.

As soon as he walked into the room, he asked him:

“Do you think this shirt looks too… gay?”

And Simon just said:

“Love. Everything you wear looks gay.”

He ended up wearing another shirt anyway. And khakis.

Yeah.

Luckily, it was a one-time thing.

At that moment, he was feeling a little bit awkward because they didn’t know anybody at that party, but everyone else seemed to know each other. Simon was pretty sure that the only reason they weren’t actively trying to talk to them was that they weren’t sure if they could, not because those suburban mothers and their husbands were hate-criming them or something.

They definitely weren’t hate-criming them. And he wasn’t being sarcastic. Simon was also wearing khakis that day, plus a purple polo, so they ended up looking like a couple of straight friends who decided to adopt a kid to strengthen their friendship or something.

He was eating a brownie he had gotten from the candy bar when they both received a message from Kasumi about something that was going on at Headquarters and that she needed one of them to be there (adding “pretty please” at the end of the sentence so it didn’t sound too harsh).

They looked at each other and Hugh raised an eyebrow.

“Do you want me to go?”

Simon shrugged. “I can go if you want to.”

“No, I’ll go. You stay with Adrian. Let me say goodbye to him.”

Adrian got out of the trampoline as soon as he heard his name. Hugh explained the situation to him, but then assured him that they would see each other at the house, and then Adrian asked him if he wanted him to save some cake for him. He smiled, told him that would be nice, and kissed his forehead before going with the mom that was hosting the party to thank her for inviting them (only because Simon told him he had to, since he had seen enough movies to know that if he didn’t, those evil white mothers would hate them for the rest of their lives and wouldn’t let their kids play with theirs).

Adrian returned to the trampoline soon after that, and since Hugh hadn’t finished his brownie, Simon didn’t see why he couldn’t do it for him. He stayed there, doing his best not to think about all the things others may be saying about him for sitting at a table all by himself and fighting against his instinct to disappear.

Which he ended up doing when he heard some kid saying “ Pops ” right next to him.

It took him longer to realize that kid was Adrian and he was talking to him.

They stared at each other for a while before Simon said, “What’s wrong, darling?”

Adrian was smiling. There wasn’t anything wrong with him. “Can you enter the competition with me?”

But when he looked at where his kid was pointing, he realized there was something very wrong with that competition.

First of all, the judge was a clown that had been going around the party giving balloon animals and doing typical clown stuff with the kids, and he didn’t know why, but Simon had always had an irrational… not fear, but distrust towards clowns. Maybe it was because when he went to his first birthday party at the age of four, his animal balloon popped after just a few seconds of having him, and the clown, being completely done with him, gave him another and told him: “Don’t be gay, kiddo” , in a really rude and condescending tone (but who knows.)

Then, it was a dancing competition.

Dancing .

In front of another fifteen kids and their parents.

And Simon wanted to say no because he knew he didn’t have to do anything that would make him feel uncomfortable in any way…

But he ended up saying yes. Because he wanted to see Adrian happy,  and he knew Adrian would be happy if they participated in the competition.

So he just nodded and let him guide him to the center of the dancefloor, which was only a small portion of the garden that was covered in gravel. Then, Adrian extended his hands towards him, Simon grabbed them and waited until the music started to play.

It wasn’t… that bad. Honestly, Simon has done more embarrassing things during his lifetime. For example, when Queen Bee punched him during a fight while she was wearing not one, but three rings, and she started to laugh as soon as she saw the first tears running down his face. Simon turned invisible so no one could see him, but it was already too late and everyone there already knew Dread Warden was crying like a little kid because a lady had punched him a little too hard.

And no one was laughing at him for that (except Queen Bee because, as his enemy, that was her job), but he felt like every single one of those people, who were more busy trying to escape the bees that were buzzing around during the fight, were actually paying enough attention to him to laugh at his tears. So that's why, that afternoon, while Adrian was having the time of his life trying to win that competition with his dad, he could only think that bunch of seven-year-olds was making fun of him (the same way those four-year-old made fun of him when the clown called him gay).

It felt like a lot. And they didn't win, but as soon as they got eliminated, he waited for Adrian to go back with the other kids, turned invisible, made his way to the bathroom, and proceeded to puke his guts out as soon as he kneeled in front of the toilet. He spent a good ten minutes waiting for the panic attack to pass before deciding he could go back to the party as nothing had happened.

The first thing he saw after returning to the backyard, was Adrian looking around, totally lost in that sea of people. And as soon as he noticed Simon was there, he let go of the balloon animal he was holding, and just ran towards him and hugged him tightly by the waist.

Simon immediately hugged him back.

A little confused. But he didn't hesitate to hug him back.

“Pops… I'm feeling sick” Adrian mumbled.

“You're feeling sick?” he nodded slightly. That was his chance. “You know, I'm feeling a little bit sick too. What if we… just— go home?”

Adrian was super on board with that idea and didn't let go of Simon while he did his best to look normal while he said goodbye to the birthday boy and his parents. They had served the cake while he was gone, so the mom gave him four pieces inside a small plastic container, which only meant he was going to go back to that house to return it to her.

When they arrived at the house, Adrian grabbed him by the waist again and he refused to let him go, even after Simon kindly asked him to do it so he could make some tea for the two of them (because, for what Adrian told him while they were in the car, he was dizzy and had a stomach ache). But Adrian grabbed him tighter, so Simon had to be extra careful while making the chamomile tea because he was terrified of burning his kid with the boiling water. Then, he put both cups in a small tray and slowly walked to the living room, where he put it on the coffee table and sat down with Adrian on the couch.

Adrian grabbed his cup (that was shaped like an orange and had a smiley face) and Simon realized it was the first time he drank tea with him.

“Be careful, darling.”

“I will…”

And while he saw him sipping his tea, he just knew he had to ask him.

“Adrian— did something happen while I was gone?” he whispered. Adrian didn’t turn to see him. “Did— the kids laugh at you? Did someone there make you feel… bad? You can tell me.”

Adrian continued sipping his tea a little bit before putting it back on the tray. After that, he finally looked him in the eye, opened his mouth to answer, and—

He started crying.

When he finally managed to calm down a little, he explained to him that he got scared when he went to the table to ask him if he wanted cake too because he thought something bad had happened to him.

Adrian— well, he thought that Simon had died.

And it broke his heart because it wasn’t like Adrian didn’t have a completely valid reason to believe that.

So they stayed there, on the couch, hugging each other, until Adrian stopped crying and told him he wanted to go play with his toys.

His tea was already cold by then. But Adrian had finished his’, so that was a good thing. He knew chamomile tea helped to reduce anxiety levels.

It didn’t help him though.

Hugh called Simon to tell him he was going to stay at Headquarters the rest of the day and Adrian suddenly developed supernatural hearing because he was able to hear his dad’s voice from the other side of the house. He asked Simon to pass him the phone and stayed a couple of minutes talking with Hugh, telling him about how awesome the party had been and that he wanted to see him again soon.

Then, the rest of the day went as normal. Except that, occasionally, Adrian left what he was doing and went to where Simon was. Just... to make sure he was still there, he guessed.

At least he wasn’t saying anything about the fact of Hugh not being there with them. Because Adrian only had two moods when it came to the relationship with his dads, and one of them was “If I don’t see you and my daddy in this exact moment, right in front of me, I’m literally gonna cry and scream until I explode” , and it would have been a little bit difficult to deal with that at the moment.

He didn’t say anything when he put on his pajamas and went upstairs to wait for Simon to finish his chores so they could go to bed together. It took him a little bit longer than he expected because he was organizing the fridge (he spent like forty minutes trying to remember the very specific organization system Hugh had implemented the first minute they moved to that house), but he eventually did and when he entered the room, Adrian was already falling asleep.

So he kissed him goodnight and tried to sleep too.

He was about to do it when Hugh opened the bedroom’s door.

Instead of saying “I’m home” , “Hi, love” , or even asking “What’s the kid doing here?” , he greeted him with:

“Did you clean the fridge?”

And Simon immediately knew he had messed up the organization system.

“Yes, I did. It smelled like eggs.”

“The cheese goes next to the eggs. Animal products go together.”

He didn’t sound mad.

He sounded condescending, but he kind of knew he didn’t mean to.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he answered.

He heard him taking his uniform off before putting on normal clothes, and he laid next to Adrian. He slightly opened his eyes and a small smile appeared on his face; then he rolled over and got closer to him.

They waited for Adrian to fall asleep again before they started talking about their days.

“So, yeah,” Simon said after finishing the tale of how he had a panic attack so violent that he ended up puking in a very elegant and suburban bathroom at a stranger’s house. “I think dancing is not my thing.”

“Dancing sucks,” Hugh said. Adrian was drooling a little bit on his shirt, but either he didn't notice or he just didn't care.  “I have never had… a panic attack over that, but… I don’t like it. It feels unnatural. And I’m not very good at it anyway.”

“You don’t like doing things you’re not good at.”

“Not gonna lie, it kind of hurts my ego.”

Simon snorted and Hugh smiled a little bit.

A day after that, Adrian asked Simon if they could go eat at that fast food restaurant they had passed by last week when they were going to Headquarters. He agreed and the three of them went to the exact place Adrian said. It was located in a… “not very nice zone” and apparently, all the parents of the city had decided to bring their kids there too, which meant it was loud and messy, and those employees were obviously overworked.

Hugh and he would have turned around as soon as they saw the state of the place, but Adrian was in a weird mood, and it was Simon’s turn to make dinner, something he didn’t feel like doing. So he told Hugh to pick something at random (after he spent a whole minute looking at the options) and order a combo with a toy for Adrian, plus twenty nuggets that Simon was not willing to share with any members of his family.

Adrian’s order arrived first. He had already finished his burguer when his dads got their meals, and he announced to them (because he wasn't going to ask for permission) that he was going to go play at the playground. Hugh told him to be careful, but Adrian practically ignored him and took off before he could even finish saying “... and don’t you dare take off your socks while you’re inside that thing”.

Simon started to play with Adrian’s toy (a cheap action figure of a random white man that wore a green jacket and was winking at him) while Hugh saw through the glass that separated them from the playground area, probably making sure Adrian didn’t get hurt or took off his socks, which in his head, would have been worse.

When Hugh was finally able to calm down, he turned to see Simon.

“So— you really eat those twenty nuggets by yourself.”

“Nineteen,” Simon corrected. “This—” he showed the nugget to him “—is the last one. Do you want it?”

He had his own nuggets and a cheeseburger he hadn’t finished yet. “Only if you don’t want it.”

“Nah. I do want it,” he answered. “I was just trying to be nice.”

Simon put the nugget inside his mouth and while he was chewing it, he realized Hugh was staring at him, but he couldn’t figure out why until he blurted out:

“I'm sorry I wasn't there for you during the party.”

He wasn’t expecting that.

“Oh—” he took a sip of his soda “—Don’t worry. You didn’t know.”

“Next time call me. So I can help you.”

And he promised himself (and Hugh) he would do it by taking his hand under the table and nodding, before resting his head on his shoulder.

“Do you think I shouldn’t have eaten those twenty nuggets?” he asked after a while.

“Not all at,” Hugh assured him. “Actually, it was very sexy of you.”

“I feel very sexy right now, not gonna lie.”

“Good. Because I think you should kiss me. If you’re in the mood for that.”

Simon was in the mood for that. He first kissed Hugh’s cheek, but he thought it wasn’t enough, so he decided to go for his lips. He wasn’t able to stop when he felt Hugh’s putting his hand on his knee, and before they could start making out in the middle of a restaurant as if they were a couple of straight teenagers, he heard a pitched voice say “Ew!”, which immediately made them break the kiss and go into fight mode, ready to be kicked out and banned from ever coming back there.

But it was only Adrian.

“Ew, pops, don’t do that,” he kept saying. “Why are you kissing him?”

“Because he’s my husband, Adrian. And your dad.”

Adrian crossed his arms and frowned.

“Well, I don’t like it—” he extended his hand “—Can I have some ice cream, pops?”

“You didn’t finish your fries, son,” Hugh pointed out. But he didn’t listen to him, again, and asked Simon once more if he could have some ice cream, making a lot of emphasis when he pronounced “pops” .

And there it was, Adrian’s second mood: “I only love you, pops, and if someone gives me enough candy bars, I would throw Captain Chromium down the stairs.”

A year has gone by since then. Therapy and meds had helped him a lot so he had never needed to call him during a panic attack, mostly because when that happened, someone was always willing to help him. For example, one time Tamaya and Simon went to a departmental store during their lunch break because she wanted to buy a bag of eggnog gummies that were only sold there, and Adrian decided to join them. There, Simon turned around for a quick second to check a mirror that would look amazing at their house before realizing that his kid had disappeared. He could see Tamaya looking at some little bird statues that they sold there (being extra careful as to not hit anything with her wings), but Adrian was nowhere to be seen. So obviously he started this frenetic search for him, which lasted, like, five minutes, because Tamaya eventually found Simon, and told him that Adrian had been with her the whole time, just that he was too short for Simon to notice him. They had to go to the restroom and Tamaya grabbed Simon’s and Adrian’s hands while they both calmed down, telling them from time to time that everything was all right (but deep down, Simon knew it really wasn’t; they were in the ladies restroom and there was a mother with his kid that looked at them in a weird way).

Tamaya must have told Kasumi about the whole thing because she taught him a few strategies she had learned to control her own panic attacks. She had been going to therapy too but read a few books about spirituality and meditation, not because she was super into it, but because she thought some concepts were interesting. One time, Evander was the only one there and since empathy wasn’t his strong suit, the only thing he kept saying was “Breathe, Simon, breathe, for fuck’s sake”. He wasn’t yelling, but he wasn’t being nice either, and honestly, that attitude only worsened Simon’s state; he even began to scream that he needed to go to the hospital because he thought he was dying, and Evander began to panic too because he had never been alone when Simon was in that state. Eventually, Simon remembered the promise he made and tried to reach for his phone while mumbling something about calling Hugh, but Evander told him not to worry about it, that he was going to call him.

And Evander, instead of grabbing his phone and doing that, opened the door, and after making sure no one else was there, he yelled:

“HUGH, SIMON NEEDS TO TALK TO YOU!”

Hugh was there in a matter of seconds.

Most of the time, he was there in a matter of seconds.

He kind of knew that if he ever needed the same kind of help, Hugh was going to call him but he never did. Not until a couple of months ago.

They were at a Women’s Day event. There was a group of dancers that was going to do a kind of opening number; a performance in honor of the victims of femicide. Tamaya was going to give a speech about the issue and how that day wasn’t of celebration, but of reflection and remembrance. Kasumi was hugging her ukulele case (she was going to perform a song she had written during the Age of Anarchy, which she refused to show the rest of the team), Evander was reading a pamphlet someone had given him, and Simon was holding Hugh’s hand, trying to hide the fact they weren’t doing much.

Suddenly, Hugh asked him: “Why is it so hot in here?”

They were at Cosmopolis Park and it was March. He didn’t feel it was that hot to be honest.

Evander turned to see them and smirked. “I’m sorry.”

Kasumi rolled her eyes and Tamaya hit him in the back of the head, without even bothering to take her eyes away from her notes.

Hugh didn’t think it was funny. “I’m being serious— It’s really hot.”

“Change into your civilian clothes after the inauguration,” Kasumi said.

The five of them were wearing their uniforms. Tamaya had a purple kerchief (that represented the feminist movement) around her wrist and Kasumi had a green one (that represented the fight for reproductive rights). Evander and Simon had talked about changing their clothes and put on the gray t-shirts the male members of patrol units were wearing. Only the female members were wearing their full uniforms because when the sun started to go down, there was going to be a march and they were going to be the ones protecting the people there. Tamaya and Kasumi had told them that the feminist organizations they were in contact with had told them they didn’t want any male patrol units during the march, but said that if Hugh, Simon, Evander, or Adrian wanted to go, they could. Simon was the only one who told them he accepted, Hugh and Evander remained quiet, and he wasn’t even sure if Adrian was aware of the situation, since he had decided to stay at Headquarters with Prism.

But Simon was about to tell Hugh about what Evander and he were going to do when Hugh said: “ No .”

Because he was working. And when he was working, he had to wear his superhero suit.

Tamaya and Kasumi had more important matters to attend to, so they dismissed Hugh and continued with their plans. The leader of the dance group told them they were ready, and the five of them walked to the stage. Instead of being the first one to talk (like he did at every event) Hugh stayed back and allowed Tamaya to do her thing.

He didn't seem like he wanted to do a lot of talking anyways. Simon could tell that pretending he wasn't uncomfortable wearing his suit that day was taking a lot of his energy, and he even began to think his husband was going to faint in front of all the cameras (but it was probably just his anxiety talking, like always).

When Tamaya finished, they watched the whole performance with the rest of the public. The dancers were wearing black clothes and purple kerchiefs, but six of them had white dresses with red paint that pretended to be blood. They danced while other women in the background sang the song and played some drums. At the end of the performance, a little girl entered the stage and yelled: “Justice for Lady I!” , before letting go of the six balloons she was holding.

Simon clapped until his hands were numb.

And until he realized Hugh was gone.

“Where is he?” Simon asked Tamaya.

She knew exactly what he was talking about.

“In the middle of the performance, he told me he wanted to go somewhere else,” she said.

Then she went quiet again. So Simon added: “Did he tell you where he was going to be?”

“I didn't ask him. I just said 'Elope, bitch' . And he did.”

Simon started to look for him in the crowd until he felt his phone vibrating on his pants. He didn't see who was calling but, for some reason, he knew it was Hugh.

“Hello?”

The other side of the line remained quiet.

For a second, Simon's imagination started to run wild and he was already imagining a scenario where someone had kidnaped Hugh (somehow) and he wasn't able to talk because if he did, they were going to hurt him or someone else. But then, he saw him in the distance, near some trees and a little bit far away from the event, and Simon walked towards him. Without hanging up the phone, just in case.

He only did it when he was right next to him.

Hugh didn't say anything for a long time. And Simon didn't, either, mainly because he was waiting for the answer to his question of “Is there anything I can do for you?” , an answer that never arrived.

Then, he proved with:

“Did you see the whole performance?”

Hugh turned to see him. They were both sitting under a tree, gazing at the distance.

He said, with a monotone voice and an emotionless expression:

“I will never understand contemporary dance.”

After a couple of minutes, he asked him if they could go back home ( home ; not the Headquarters) and Simon accepted. Hugh went the whole way without talking to him, massaging his temple, and when he asked him if there was something wrong, he told him he had a headache, but in a very… weird way.

He was irritable. To say the least. So Simon decided that the best thing he could do at that moment was to not intervene and just keep driving.

Hugh went upstairs and locked himself in their room, while Simon waited for Prism to take Adrian back home before the march started so she could go join them. He managed to keep Adrian downstairs so he didn't go and bother his other dad. It wasn't until 11 PM, when Adrian was already asleep and Kasumi told him the march had ended, that he decided to go check on Hugh.

It was pretty late but the TV was on and he was completely awake.

It didn’t surprise him at all.

“Are you feeling better?”

But instead of answering, he asked back: “How are you feeling?”

“Fine. I just— I stayed downstairs. I guessed you didn’t want to be bothered.” Simon tried to recognize the show that was on, but couldn’t. “What are you watching?”

He sat down on the mattress and Hugh got closer to him. Simon took it as a sign he wanted to cuddle, so he laid next to him and rested his head on his chest.

“You know what other thing I will never understand?”

Contemporary dance.

“What?”

“People who go out with their partners to take dance classes. And dance competitions.”

“Everything that has to do with dancing, then.” He nodded. “Don’t worry. After the clown thing, I’ve hated  anything that has to do with dancing too.”

“It’s too… complicated.”

“Yes.”

“You need a lot of coordination”

“You do.”

“And people are looking at you.”

“They definitely are.”

Hugh smiled a little bit. “No, they’re not. Don’t be silly. People don’t care.”

After that, Simon could at least be sure that Hugh would never take him to dance classes or make him enter dance competitions. It just… wasn’t their thing.

Maybe, their thing was to stay at Headquarters until very late at night, finishing their paperwork, with the rest of the Council.

Like they had been doing the last couple of hours.

Tamaya had been the first one to go home. Her husband had called her and said that her kid didn’t want to go to sleep if his mom wasn’t there to read him a bedtime story. Hugh said that Evander could finish her share of the paperwork and before he could refuse, she answered: “Well, thank you very much, Blacklight” and left. After that, Evander spent a good entire minutes bitching about how Hugh couldn’t just give him more responsibilities just because, to which Hugh responded “Yes, I can” , and Kasumi had to tell both of them to stop because Adrian was there. According to her, if they started to yell curse words to each other, he was going to start repeating the same words every time he was angry and kids weren’t supposed to swear (even though she was ten when Simon heard her say “Oh, fuck” for the first time).

After Evander and Kasumi finished their respective share of the paperwork (plus Tamaya’s) they decided they were going to spend the night there because it was already too late. Simon and Hugh were distracted for a little while, discussing something related to what they were doing, when suddenly, Kasumi and Evander were already inflating a mattress with a pump they had taken out of nowhere. When they asked them where they got those things, Evander just answered they hadn’t revealed all their secrets yet.

Suddenly, the air pump broke at the same time the crayon Adrian was using to color a couple of butterflies did, and Kasumi and he whispered, at the same time:

“Oh, fuck.”

Simon thought everyone was going to die of laughter right there. Everyone except Kasumi. She was going to die of embarrassment.

After she apologized to Adrian for swearing in front of him, Evander got a couple of blankets for them to put on the mattress so it was a little bit more comfortable for them. They asked Adrian if he wanted to sleep with them, but Adrian said he wasn’t sleepy yet. Still, Kasumi told Evander to leave a small space for Adrian in case he changed his mind.

They fell asleep almost immediately.

And soon after that, the baby monitor Simon carried around practically everywhere let them know that Max had woken up and was crying.

“Hugh—”

“Yes, I’ll go. Wait here.” He got closer to the door, but then he turned around to see Adrian, who was still drawing. “When I’m back, you better be asleep, Sketch.”

Adrian rolled his eyes and growled, but instead of getting angry or something, Hugh laughed and left.

Five minutes went by.

Then, fifteen.

Then, half an hour.

Forty minutes.

An hour.

Simon felt his eyes were burning and his whole body felt like it didn’t belong to him. Luckily all the paperwork was gone now, and Adrian was holding the baby monitor in his small hands.

Max wasn’t crying anymore, but he could hear Hugh’s voice, although he couldn’t understand exactly what he was saying.

“What’s going on?” he asked Adrian.

Adrian looked more tired than before, but not that much. They definitely were messing up his sleeping schedule. “Daddy has been trying to put Max in his crib a couple of times but when he tries to leave he starts crying again.”

Simon nodded and tried not to think about it.

He really tried not to think about it.

“Pops,” Adrian called him. “I’m tired. I wanna go to bed.”

Finally.

“Well—” and an idea popped into his head “—let’s go with your daddy and Max to tell them we’re leaving. So you can say goodnight to them too.”

Adrian agreed to do that and being extra careful as not to disturb Evander and Kasumi, they walked through the practically empty corridors, holding hands and feeling like ghosts in an abandoned building (although he knew it was not abandoned, there were some people still there, just not in that area specifically).

They arrived at Max’s quarantine area and all the lights were out. It took him more than a second to notice Hugh sitting on the floor, in the middle of the room, barefoot and only wearing his undershirt and his blue leggings. He was holding Max close to his chest and had an empty bottle in his left hand.

He looked done. He looked so freaking done, but Max, on the other hand, looked very pleased with himself, sucking on his pacifier and with his brown eyes wide open.

Simon tried to hide his laugh. “What happened you guys?”

“Ask your kid,” Hugh answered. “He started it.”

“Just leave him in the crib,” Adrian said, a little bit impatient.

Hugh stood up, walked towards the crib, and, without taking his eyes away from Adrian, he put Max there. And Max, obviously, began to scream so loud that Adrian covered his ears.

“I can’t,” Hugh said. He hugged his baby once more and his screams turned into really quiet sobs. “He’s being a real Westwood right now.”

Simon pretended not to be offended by that joke (a joke Adrian was too young to understand and too tired to care about.)

He put his hands on his kid’s shoulders. “Adrian wants to go to bed,” he told Hugh. “And honestly, me too.”

“And I would love to join you,” Hugh said, “but, you know… your baby is holding me hostage. The Westwood genes—”

“Captain—”

“Okay, don’t get mad.” He pulled Max closer to him. “He won’t close his eyes. And I’ve already tried almost everything.”

Adrian bumped his head against the glass and Simon imitated him. If Hugh hadn’t been holding Max, he would probably do that too.

When looked up again, he wanted to wish him good luck with the Max thing and that he should ask Evander and Kasumi before getting in their improvised bed (if he didn't want to sleep on the floor and preferred something a little bit more comfortable) (although he suspected Evander was going to get all defensive and Hugh was going to have to sleep in the floor anyways.) But he couldn't because the first thing he noticed was that the room was covered in a dark blue light that came out of a small sphere that was one of Max's night lights.

Hugh didn't notice Simon's confusion.

“Love, don't you think that's going to have an opposite effect?” he asked him, doing his best not to sound too… rude.

“No, not at all,” Hugh answered. “He likes it. I don't know if it's the colors or what but he likes it.”

“Good, but the point it's for him to fall asleep,” he insisted. “Not if he likes it or not.”

But he pretended as if he hadn't listened to him and turned on the other night light.

Immediately, the room was filled with yellow stars that contrasted with the blue veil that filled their vision.

At that moment, Simon realized Max was looking at him. He smiled at him, his baby smiled back, and then hid his face on his dad's chest. Then, Simon turned invisible, and when Max looked at him again, he reappeared, making him giggle.

And he hid his face again.

It was a game they constantly played when he was visiting him. And he hoped they would never stop playing it.

“What are you doing?” Adrian asked Hugh, who was scrolling through his cellphone, almost mindlessly.

“I'm searching for a— for a song… a song Max likes,” he mumbled. Then, he clicked his tongue. “Max likes a very specific song, and I play it when nothing else works. It is so energetic, it makes him very tired. But… I can't find it right now.”

Max turned his face around and Simon appeared once more.

“Why don't you sing it to him?” he wondered.

“Oh, no, he cries every time I try to sing a song for him—” he stopped looking at his phone for a second “—Every single time, Si. I don't know what's with him and my singing. He just goes crazy and it's impossible to calm him down. Won't try again, zero out of ten.”

After a few more scrolling, Hugh ended up finding the song and smiled. He put his phone on a small table, and he and Simon made eye contact for a moment.

“You'll see he'll fall asleep after playing this,” Hugh told him. “Don't worry.”

Then, the song started playing.

Hugh sat Max inside his crib, but this time, he didn't cry. He just looked back at his dad, waiting for something to happen.

Adrian grabbed his hand and tried to pull him away. Then, tried doing the same with Simon's cape. But Simon was way too intrigued by Hugh's strategy. Mainly because he had never heard about it, even though he said it wasn't his first time doing it.

And he tried not to think about that.

So instead of walking away, he pulled Adrian closer to him and silently told him to stay still. Just for a while.

Hugh grabbed Max’s wrist very carefully and started moving them around.

Close your tired eyes, relax, and then,

Count from one to ten and open them.

All these heavy thoughts will try to weigh you down,

but not this time...

Simon wished he had brought a camera with him. Because Max looked as if he were dancing to the song and it was freaking adorable.

Way up in the air you're finally free,

and you can stay up there right next to me.

Hugh let go of Max’s wrists and stepped back a couple of meters. Max, once again, didn’t start crying and continued dancing  in his baby way, wiggling his body and staring at his dad with a smile on his face.

All this gravity will try to pull you down,

but not this time...

Maybe it was the fact that Simon wasn’t aware of Max’s weird tendency to sleep when they played upbeat songs. Or maybe that he had never heard that song. He had seen him dancing at public events, with him or with other members of the Council. He had also seen him dancing during their wedding day, and he was dancing with him.

But he hadn’t seen him dancing like that before.

The chorus started and he lip-synced the lyrics while moving his feet. The stars moved around the room and the blue light gave the impression of him being in the middle of the space, among the universe that had made him and every single prodigy out there the way they were. He flapped his arms as if he was trying to imitate the shooting stars the singer was talking about. Colorful sparkles and rainbow comets seemed to appear all around him, surrounding him in a weird but beautiful whirlwind. But he didn’t even bother to look at them like he didn’t care about the things that were going on around him because at that moment, the only thing that existed there was him and the beat.

During the small bridge between the chorus and the next verse, he opened his eyes again, and their gazes crossed once more.

And since Simon knew that face as if it were his own, he could notice he was starting to feel embarrassed.

Adrian pulled his cape once more.

“Come on, Adrian,” he said, grabbing his older son by the wrist, “let’s show your brother and the Captain how we dance.”

Hugh started laughing and Adrian tried to kick him. “Noooo, let me go,” he complained.

“Hey, don’t be like that, it will be fun,” Simon insisted. Adrian stopped yelling and let his dad grab both of his hands, frowning and pouting. “Are you gonna let my husband dance better than us?”

He didn’t want to appeal to any of his two moods, but apparently, he did.

“No,” he answered immediately. “I’m the best dancer in this family.”

“Prove it,” Hugh said from the other side of the glass, casually leaning against Max’s crib. “We’re waiting.”

He remained completely still for a couple of seconds, gazing at him, and Simon started to move Adrian’s hands around like Hugh had done with Max before. His expression dulled little by little, and when he was finally convinced, he let out a very loud “UGH, FINE!” , with the same tone he had used to be homophobic at the restaurant. Simon laughed out loud and Hugh took his imaginary hat off, to let him know that the floor was his.

Gaze into my eyes when the fire starts,

and fan the flames so hot, it melts our hearts.

Oh, the pouring rain, will try to put it out,

but not this time…

First, Adrian moved his arms as if they were dancing a weird version of one of those vintage dances Simon had only seen on TV, similar to what they were doing during the party he constantly thought about. Then, Simon made him spin and they let go of each other, so Adrian could start giving it all, dancing like the guys from the (kind of) cheesy movies he liked to watch, which the professional actors made look cool but when he did it, were hilarious and lovely.

Let your colors burn and brightly burst

into a million sparks that all disperse,

and illuminate a world that'll try to bring you down,

but not this time...

“Pops, you’re not dancing!” Adrian suddenly yelled while pointed at him with an evil grin on his face. “You’re not dancing! Your husband is going to take us down if you don’t dance!”

Hugh had been moving up and down slightly because he knew that was Adrian’s moment to show off, but when he heard Adrian yelled that he got closer to them, dancing with more emphasis and pointing at Simon, like daring him to a duel. Adrian grabbed him by the waist to shake him up a little, and Simon just yelled: “I GOT IT, I GOT IT!”.

Because he got it. He knew he had to dance too.

Even if he wasn’t sure of how to do it.

And it was probably so obvious that Hugh noticed that small detail because as soon as the chorus started once again, he raised his arms, and Simon, without doubting, followed his lead. Then, he spread them, and it reminded him of when they were little and liked to think that they could develop flying abilities if they pretended they were planes. Simon moved a little bit to the left, then a little bit to the right, and realized they matched with the song and he didn’t look dumb at all while doing it.

Especially because Hugh was mirroring each of his movements and he was smiling and laughing, and even began to sing, just a little bit.

“The judges said that singing is not allowed during the competition,” said Adrian with a teasing tone of voice.

Hugh spun two times and Simon spun one.

“The evaluation criteria is completely arbitrary,” Hugh grinned. “I don’t understand it, it doesn’t exist to me.”

Adrian shook his head with fake exasperation and proceeded to shake his head from side to side, while snapping his fingers and singing the lyrics too, pretending he had a better singing voice than his dad did. Which was true.

Simon was about to make a joke about it, when he saw something moving in Max’s crib.

And he realized he had been completely terrified of not being there when that eventually happened.

He was holding onto the crib bars as if his life depended on it. His pacifier had fallen off his mouth, but he didn’t care and was staring at the rest of his family, completely poker-faced because obviously, he was so little he didn’t comprehend how amazing it was what he was doing.

Max was still too young to understand how amazing he was.

“MAX, YOU’RE STANDING!” Simon cheered. “HUGH, THE BABY IS STANDING!”

A thousand heartbeats beat in time…

Hugh turned around violently and Adrian pointed at his little brother immediately after noticing too, squealing and jumping. “He is! He really is!”

And when all the eyes went on Max, instead of hiding like he did every time someone who wasn’t the Council or his parents visited him, his whole face lit up and Simon could hear his baby laugh from the other side of the glass even louder than he could hear the music.

It makes this dark planet come alive...

Adrian continued to cheer his brother, stomping his feet and using the glass that divided them like a drum, and Hugh threw a glance at Simon, before looking at Max again and opening his arms as if Max was able to run to him and hug him.

“Max, you’re standing!” Hugh repeated. “Congratulations, love!”

So when the lights flicker out tonight...

Max's smile widened even more and he began his body up and down, with an intent to join the party. Simon couldn’t help but imitate his movements, and suddenly he got an idea.

You gotta shine...

He grabbed an invisible mic, pointed at the baby that was giggling so hard he had his eyes closed, and began to sing:

“When the sun goes down and the lights burn out, then it’s time for you to shine! Brighter than a shooting star! So shine no matter where you are! ”

Max's movements became quicker and his laugh louder. Adrian took out his imaginary guitar, and continued to stomp his feet while making guitar noises with his mouth because he was sure that he had just become an amazing musician and nothing could stop him.

And he looked so convinced that Simon believed him, because Adrian was as amazing as he believed he was, and he would never let anyone make him believe otherwise.

“Fill the darkest night with a brilliant light, 'cause it's time for you to shine!”

Finally, he saw Hugh grabbing two drumsticks that only existed inside his head, and beginning to play the battery, making all the stars and colorful sparkles jump around him, leaving small traces of their existence all around his face. He threw the drumsticks in the air, spun once more, and finally caught them in the air, before continuing playing his instrument.

Simon knew that Hugh was completely aware of how amazing he was. Prodigies with powers like the ones he had weren’t born every day, and prodigies who also had the exact combination of characteristics that allowed him to go as far as he had been able to go were even fewer.

But sometimes Simon did wonder if he knew he was also amazing when he wasn't being Captain Chromium.

Captain Chromium would never be able to make those rainbow sparkles shine as bright as Hugh Everhart was doing it right now, and Simon thought it was one of the most beautiful views his eyes would ever be able to see.

So when he spun again and tripped with his own feet, leaning against the glass to not hit his head with it, Simon pressed his hand against the glass.

“BRIGHTER THAN A SHOOTING STAR! ” Adrian yelled. “SO SHINE NO MATTER WHERE YOU ARE!”

And we wondered again.

Do you know it?

Do you know how amazing you are being right now?

Please tell me you do.

But he never did. The singer, Adrian, and Max mumbled “Tonight” at the same time, although Max did in a way only he could understand and without even noticing what he was saying.

Simon smiled at Hugh, and he smiled back at him, as he always did.

When he walked to Max's crib and carried him in his arms, he noticed the sparkles were completely gone. But he still grabbed Max's little wrist and waved goodbye at them, while his baby's eyelids started getting heavy. Then, before he could do the same thing with Adrian, he threw a kiss at them, before hugging Simon's arm and asking him if they could go to sleep now, again.

Simon looked at Hugh one more time. Hugh tilted his head, smiled a little bit more, and said:

“Good night, Si.”

And Si laughed under his breath.

“Good night to you too. Shooting Star.”

He never called him like that again.

But it was alright because Hugh never danced like that again. And no one could see the same shooting star twice.

Still, Simon wanted to believe that someday he would.

Maybe someday.

[agentwhiskeysdarlin]

Honey Bee

Pairing: Jack Whiskey Daniels x Fem!Reader

Rating: PG

Warnings: tooth rotting fluff, first date nervousness, mean waitress, judgmental people, that’s it

Word Count: 2,142 (longest Jack fic yet!)

Author’s Notes: HERE IT IS! This idea has been in my head for months now and I am so excited to finally have it out to the world! I hope you guys enjoy this overly cute Jack fic. Feedback is alway, ALWAYS welcome and I LOVE IT!!! (Also sorry if the formatting may be off this was all copied out of emails because I worked on half of this at work and my wonderful unofficial editor @clint-aww-no-barton​ looked over the first half for me.)

ao3 link for story

  It was the perfect day to set up which is why you chose it. The sun was shaded by clouds with no chance of rain and there was a breeze keeping the Kentucky heat at bay. You had just gotten to your stall to arrange all your fresh product for the day. Once everything was arranged neatly in rows with prices displayed you stopped to pull out a small woven basket. His name written boldly in your handwriting on a sticky note stuck to it. Jack. You knew he would be by today, at some point. He never ever failed to show up and brighten your day with his endless flirting and sweet nicknames. Claiming you had the best grown fruits and vegetables in the whole damn state along with the best pie he had ever had the pleasure of eating. Smiling you tucked a piece of your hair behind your ear remembering the first day you had encountered the sweet cowboy. 

  It had been a slow day that day when he first came by. He parked his Bronco down the street away before sliding out and swaggering over. He wore a suit and a cowboy hat which was almost funny to you but you had no idea where he worked. He was incredibly handsome and wore a smile that could reflect the sun and blind you.

  “How are you today darlin’?” His accent thicker than most.

  “I’m doing alright. How are you?”

  “Well I am doing a hell of a lot better now,” he leaned against the front of the stall looking down the rows of endless product.

  “Everything is home grown on my farm and I have fresh fruit pies if you want one of those as well,” you couldn't help the smile that graced your face when his head popped up at the mentions of pies.

  “Oh really? I will definitely take a blueberry pie,” he smiled wide at you.

  You walked to the bag you kept them in to keep them fresh while he picked more things out before returning to him pie in hand. You gazed over his pickings and then the man paid you.

  “Thank you very much for stopping by. Don’t be a stranger,” you smiled at him.

  “Oh I’ll be back honey bee.”

  You were pulled from your reminiscing by the slamming of a car door. Turning to look up the road you were greeted by the welcome sight of Jack heading your way in his usual get up. You had learned he worked in the corporate offices of Statesman which explained why, no matter the weather, he was in a suit.

  “Morning Jack,” your smile widened.

  “Good morning honey bee,” he grinned wide at you as he came to a stop in front of the stall looking over the selection for the day.

  “Don’t worry I already got your order set aside,” you turned and pulled up the basket and pie sitting it on the empty part you left for this.

  “You have learned me well,” he seemed to smile bigger.

  “Well you are my number one customer so I gotta take care of you.”

  Jack let out a chuckle as he looked down rubbing his neck softly. You knitted your brow together noticing he seemed a little off this morning.

  “How are you Jack?”

  “I’m doing good honey bee. How have you been?”

  “I’ve been good,” you couldn't help the blush that crossed your face at the nickname he all too often used.

   He pulled out his wallet and you frowned slightly with the thought of him coming and going so quickly today. He handed you his money.

  “Thank you as always,” you smiled softly as you tucked the bills away.

  “Thank you honey bee for taking care of me,” he gave you a smirk and a wink before he started to walk away.

  You watched him as he started to leave before freezing and seeming to battle himself for a second before turning around. He set the stuff back on your counter with a thud and leaned on the stall almost aggressively.

  “Dammit if I don’t get this out I will never grow the balls to do it again,” he shook his head before he looked up and meeting your questioning gaze.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Will you go on a date with me?”

  You stood in shock for a moment. You knew you had been crushing on him and he had flirted with you but you knew his reputation around town. Jack was a flirt and a massive one at that. You had no idea the man had any feelings passed that for you.

  “Jack I…I would love to,” you stuttered a deep red growing on your face and a smile spreading across your lips.

  “Great! Okay! I can pick you up at 7 on Friday?” 

  “That sounds amazing. Um what should I wear?”

  “That floral sundress you wore a few weeks ago? Wear that,” he smiled wide at you and once again threw you a wink as he picked up his things again.

  “Okay yeah sounds good. I’ll see you then,” you blushed at the thought he remembered something you wore.

  “See you then honey bee.”

  You watched the man walk away all while butterflies were already fluttering around in your stomach.

You brushed your slightly shaking hands down the front of the floral dress trying to smooth an already smooth surface. You were nervous but how could you not be? You were going on your first date in months and with Jack Daniels on top of that. You kept eyeing yourself over and over again in the body mirror in front of you trying to make sure your makeup and hair were perfect for tonight. A sudden knock that echoed through your small home pulled you away. You took one final breathe before turning to go answer it. 

  When you opened the door Jack stood there in his usual get up, cowboy hat topping the look off and a massive smile. 

  “Hello honey bee. You look beautiful. You ready to go?” He asked as his eyes glanced over you. 

  “Thank you Jack. You look very handsome. Yeah let me just grab my purse,” you smiled as you turned and grabbed your purse off the table just inside and then walked out to join him. 

  The night was perfect. It was just enough of a breeze to not make it so hot and the stars and moon danced along the black sky. Jack took your hand and lead you to his Bronco and opening the door for you. 

  “Such a gentleman,” you smiled with a teasing tone as you climbed inside. 

  “Always for a beautiful lady.” Jack threw you a wink before moving around and climbing inside. 

  He set off for a destination you were incredibly unsure of and you couldn’t help but to fumble with your fingers. The radio played softly in the background adding just enough comfort to not make things weird with you two not speaking. You jumped when you suddenly felt Jack’s hand grasp yours and link his fingers within yours. You couldn’t help to smile and glance over at him. 

  “You know you don’t have to be nervous. It’s just me,” he gave you a smirk his eyes turning back to the road. 

  “Exactly it’s you.” 

  About that time Jack pulled up to a restaurant and you glanced at where you were and your eyes grew slightly. 

  “Jack this is the nicest restaurant in town. You don’t have to do this,” you were quick with your words. 

  “I want to though,” he climbed out and made his way over to your side and opening the door for you. 

  Your nerves only seemed to grow at the thought of stepping inside this place wearing what you were. This was not your typical scene and you looked over underdressed next to Jack. 

  “Is what I’m wearing okay?” You looked at him worried as you both stepped to the front door and seeing the dresses the other women were wearing. 

  “You look perfect honey bee. Stop your worrying,” Jack gave you a sweet smile as his thumb brushed across your hand trying to sooth you. 

  Jack told the host his name and the two of you followed him to a small table in a corner seating you. You glanced around overly uncomfortable at the atmosphere. You felt eyes on you and not in any good way. The waitress seemed to curl her nose up at you and did nothing but flirt with Jack all during the ordering process. You two had gotten your food a lot faster than you expected to. You picked at your food slightly your eyes still wondering around the place at the people. 

  “You want to go somewhere else? You don’t look like your having a good time and I want this to be a good night for you,” Jack’s voice pulled you back to the table and you looked up at him. 

  “I don’t want to ruin your plans you had for the night.”

  “I’ve got a better idea,” he smirked with mischief dancing behind his brown eyes. 

  Jack waved your waitress down and asked for to go boxes and the check. As soon as those were brought he shoved the food inside the boxes and paid the girl before taking your hand and walking out. He once again opened your door for you and you offered to take the food. You say warmly in your lap and watched as he walked around and climbed inside. 

  “Where are we going?” 

  “You’ll see,” his smirk was wide and you couldn’t help but to let a smile grow across your face at his excitement. 

  The drive seemed longer and the city lights were slowly disappearing behind you. You could see him glancing between you and the road as he drove. 

  “You look mighty lonely all the way over there.” 

  You looked up and met his gaze, something new dancing there before you scooted enough to sit the food in your abandoned seat and then closer to him. Jack placed a hand on your knee and you wrapped your arms around it before placing your head on his shoulder a wide smile settling on your face. After several more minutes of driving Jack finally turned at a drop off where you could see the entire town. The view was beautiful and you looked up at Jack as he backed in so you two could sit in the back. He climbed out and followed behind him reaching in to get the food. You watched Jack as he dropped the tailgate a blanket in his arms. He spread it out and helped you up into the bed. You scooted back to sit against the back of the truck and watched as Jack climbed in after you. 

  “This any better honey bee?”

  “This is perfect Jack. Thank you and I’m sorry. The fancy restaurants are just not my thing.” 

  “I’ll be sure to keep that in mind,” he threw you a wink before the both of you dig into your food. 

  The two of you ate in silence and after you were done Jack laid down across the blanket and opened an arm for you. You smiled down at him before you laid your head on his arm and looked up at the stars with him. The two of you started to talk about anything and everything. Laughing at stories the two of you told. Jack seemed to ask all the right questions doing everything he could to get to know you better. It was perfect and you honestly never wanted the night to end. 

  Comfortable silence feel between the two of you and you turned so that you faced down and looked over Jack’s face. He looked at you and seemed to search your face as well. His eyes then seemed to dart between your lips and your eyes. You gave him a slight nod for permission before his over hand came to rest on your cheek and he brought your face down to his. Your lips connected and the world around you feel away. Electricity coursed through you and you melted against him. Jack flipped the two of you so you were on top and deepened the kiss. You neither seemed to want to pull away, only doing so when air was purely needed. 

  “Whoa,” you looked up at his eyes. 

  “Whoa indeed honey bee,” Jack smirked as his eyes connected to yours. 

  You bit your lip and let your fingers brush over his face. A smirk grew across Jack’s face seeming to be thinking the same as you were. 

  “Should I take you home honey bee?”

  “Why take me home cowboy?” You smirked before you pulled Jack by the collar of his jacket to your lips.

Tagged: @jimmythegirl​ @discogrrl​ @arcadianempress​ @immundusspiritu​ @someplace-darker​ @talesfromtheguild​ @thisis-theway​ @ohpedromypedro​ @scribbledghost​ @on-the-razor-crest​ @fioccodineveautunnale​ @spookyold-saintjm​

[thegalleonsnest]

Wiggle’s Muse - Short Excerpt turned into a FanFic

Yo, so, I wanted to share a small snippet of a future project I’m working on (while also delaying my current art projects). What I’ve written out here in this post was originally in a format not meant for professional writing purposes, but I said “eh, why the hell not,” and written it out in sort of a short fanfic format for you guys to read. This project btw, is not a fanfic (had to make that clear). What I am working on is a very large scale project for myself and is still in the blocking out/rough draft phases. This right here is probably my most fleshed out scene I’ve written out, and feels pretty complete as it’s own thing. Honestly, I’d appreciate the feedback if any of ya’ll found this interesting! 

Also I’m putting this in a tumblr post because I don’t have an AO3 or fanfiction account, and this is already too short for it anyway. Read the excerpt below

In front of the camera lenses, multiple grumpuses walk back and forth discussing a matter of topics but most importantly, where was Wiggle?

"Has anyone gotten ahold of Wiggle yet? She was supposed to be here hours ago,” a gruff voice coming from out of frame says. “We’ve tried calling her for over an hour, but we got nothing,” says another off camera, “do you think we should reschedule-” before they could finish, the studio doors bust open with a loud thud echoing the studio room. A tall, short armed grumpus with a boa stumbles along the room carrying an oddly shaped banjo.

“There she is,” said the gruff voiced grump, “Wiggle, whatever you got going on, you better do it now cause we got a meeting with investors in half an hour!” From the blurry view of a slightly out of frame Wiggle, she barely registered what the grump said. In a stumble, she walks to the center of the camera’s view & shakes her head, almost slurring her words, “Doooon’t worry, Darling, we’ll get you a new vest later.” “What, no, wait, that’s not what I-” before another word could be said, Wiggle readies her banjo and strikes a quick pose before strumming the strings like her life depended on it.

It didn’t take longer than a few seconds before the crew sprung into action, setting the proper lightning, mics and cameras around her. Her rhythm and measures became a lot more stable, catchy even, and then she broke into song. The next set of lyrics would become an instant, regrettable classic. 

It’s not long before the VHS tape stutters and stops, showing mostly static. A magenta furred Grumpus with some hair covering a part of eye, hits the eject button, takes out the tape and turns off the tv. “Girl, you were a right mess there!” She said with a giggle. “Tell me about it, Vrittany...” Wiggle said frustratingly, pinching the bridge of her nose. “And you’re telling me you can’t come up with anything better than that? Come on now!” “I wish I was lying, but I’m not. No matter what I come up with, nothing is topping whatever the heck my walking coma came up with instead!” Wiggle grabs her mug of coffee and takes a longing sip.

The two sit across from one another at the coffee bar. The aroma of that day’s set of cocoa beans waft through the cafe as most of the outside lamps fill out the darker spots inside. The place is nearly empty besides them, and a single muted green furred occupant sitting at a booth at the opposite end of the cafe, drawing away in his sketchpad.

“So, whatcha gonna do?” Vrittany asked sarcastically, “Stay awake for another week? Get inspired again? Hehe.” Wiggle sets her mug down, and answers, “I did try that again, but in style I fell asleep comfortably on a couch in the lobby”. Vrittany looked a bit stunned. “You’re kidding?! You’re crazy!” “Not crazy, Vrittany,” she takes another sip of her coffee before striking a pose in her high stool seat, bellowing out her voice. “Just creatiiiivly driveeeen~” “Whatever you say, darling,” Vrittany says before turning around to her bar’s sink. She cleans several mugs and glasses with gusto while preparing one last pot of coffee, enough for a single cup for later.

Vrittany takes off her apron and hangs it on the wayside of the counter as she walks around to take a seat next to Wiggle. After situating herself, she puts a paw on Wiggle’s shoulder. “Listen, pretty sure this is just a rut you’re stuck in right now,” she says. “Doesn’t every artist go through that every now and then?” Wiggle turns her head toward Vrittany, “Well..yeah, but this is different,” she desperately says. “I can’t let a song I made in my sleep be the best thing I’ve ever made! I know I can make something that’ll shake the world more than whatever ‘Do The Wiggle’ was.” 

Vrittany pulls back her paw from Wiggle to put on her best thinking cap. As deeply in thought as she was, her face immediately relaxes into a deadpan expression, “Have ya tried singing from the heart?” Wiggle cracks a smile, “HA, if only that’s how it works! It takes a musical genius to write a hit song in show biz, not just some field day with my feelings.” “Eh, worth a shot. Got any other plans?” “I’m still trying to figure that out. I need some kind of inspiration...almost like a-”

Before she could finish her thought, they both caught a glance at the muted green furred grump who walked up to them. He mustered up the words and said, “E-excuse me, you’re Miss Wiggle, right?” Wiggle turned in her seat to get a better look at the young Grumpus. She could tell he was nervous, clutching his sketchbook in his arms rather tightly. She quickly put on a more relaxed front to help calm things down, while also still showing off a bit of her excited side. “Why yes I am, Darling,” she said enthusiastically. “And I can tell you must be a fan of mine.” “Y-yeah...!” The green grump looked a little more relaxed, but still stiff in the shoulders. “Hey now, no need to be so nervous. I always got time for my fans.” “Thank you, Miss Wiggle. Um…” “No need to finish that thought, Darling, I know what you’re about to ask and I’m happy to oblige!”

Before the young man could stop to say something, Wiggle pulls out one of her many professional hand out photos that she has, and quickly signs with her autograph before handing it to him. “O-Oh, thank you, Miss, but that’s not what I was going to s-say.” he sheepishly says. “Really? Not an autograph,” Wiggle says surprisingly. “It’s usually the first thing fans ask of me.” “Sorry, I just...I wanted to show you this sketch I made…” 

The nervous grumpus slowly turns his sketchbook around to reveal a fully sketched art piece depicting a stylized Wiggle singing her heart out at the bar with Vrittany hanging out in the background cheering her on. He hands it to Wiggle to give them a closer look. It was still somewhat messy, showing a few guidelines and early roughed out shapes, but for what it was, it was still impressive to the two girls.

“Woah, that’s pretty rad!” Vrittany yelled out, leaning out from her seat trying to get a closer look. Wiggle was pretty stun, gasping at the sight of such a piece of artwork. “Darling, you drew this?! Just now,” Wiggle asked in awe. “Yeah! I was listening to some of your music and then you came in and sat down. It made me wanna draw you as fast as I could,” the green grumps says excitedly before rubbing the back of his head. “Sorry if it’s still a little messy looking though…” “Don’t be, because it is beeeaautifuuul~” “T-thank you so much, Miss Wiggle! T-that means a lot to m-me!” the grumpus says while his face lights up red from the praise. “You’re like an inspiration to me.” “Really now? Like a muse? All I do is sing the night away, Darling. You draw little masterpieces like this from me?”

As Wiggle continues to be enthralled by the young man and his work, Vrittany notices the coffee pot had finished brewing. She gets up from her seat and go back behind the counter to finish her last cup for the night. Wiggle and the green grump continue their conversation.

“W-well kind of,” says the grump, “it’s a bunch of music that inspires me when I draw. A lot of your stuff is so upbeat and fun, it gives me lots of different ideas to pump out!” Wiggle looks back, almost flabbergasted. “I’m...honestly a bit stunned that I had that kind of impact on you, Darling,” she says, almost with a melancholy tone, “...heh, kind of forget sometimes I do make some kind of impression on grumps like you.” She looks back down at the sketchbook, entranced by the creativity that sparked in the moment. That dazzling moment where it all clicked...where could she find that, when someone else can find it in her?

After an awkward minute of silence, the young grump spoke up and said, “If you like, you can keep the sketch page, Miss Wiggle?” Wiggle snapped her head back up from the sketchbook to the green fuzzball. “W-wait really? Are you sure you wanna give up this piece of art?” said Wiggle worryingly. “It’s no problem at all,” said the green grump proudly. “I already took a picture of it to save for later. I’m gonna make a painted version of it online later! Besides, it’ll make me happy if you kept it, since I was going to give it to you anyway.” “Oh Darling, you’re nothing more than a sweet one now, aren’t you? I’ll gladly keep it!” “Thank you so much, Miss Wiggle!”

Wiggle hands the sketchbook back to the green grumpus and he tears out the sketch. “No, Darling, thank you,” Wiggle says ecstatically. Vrittany returns from behind the bar with a to-go cup in hand, saying “Here’s your order, kid.”  “Oh, thank you, Vrittany. How much was it again,” the green grump asked. “Eh, don’t worry about it. Don’t feel like counting change. It’s on the house.” “O-oh you sure?” “You wanna change my mind?” “Don’t think I can, so thank you!” The green grump turns back to Wiggle and says “It was so nice meeting you in person, Miss Wiggle!”

“The pleasure is all mine, Dar-,” Wiggle catches herself before she realizes something. “Actually, what was your name?” “It’s Grite, Grite Tillsland!” Wiggle lets a genuine soft smile grow on her face. She felt a lot more at ease and happier knowing her new friend was much more relax and happy overall. She reached out her paw for a handshake, and Grite reciprocated.

“The pleasure’s mine, Grite, Darling.”

[milanosbitch]

rec list for endhawks gems

as usual during this quarantine, i went through a challenging quest, searched through every single fic on ao3 about a single ship and made a rec list, ended up with around 25 works out of 630. nearly all of them should be free of explicit, problematic and triggering content besides one or two in the mature content sense. and i’ll note those down separately but i always suggest reading the tags before starting a fic regardless the rating, just so you know what you’re diving into. furthermore, there’s this author note at the end of a fic that i’ve found which pretty much sums up my feelings about a mess that’s called todoroki friggin’ enji:

“ I love Hawks and Endeavor together. They're a great dynamic, whether it's platonic or not. I'm a pretty open guy when it comes to shipping, and me and a certain lilviathan love going back and forth with dumb ideas about them.

And that's kind of where the contradictory feelings for the Flaming Garbage Man that is Endeavor kind of come from? Because I really do think he's a very interesting and well-developed character, but I also have a very strong urge to stab him at any given time.

I want to make his life miserable and hurt him, but I also want someone to sit him down and tell him that while he owes his family an apology, they do not owe him forgiveness. I want to see him grow. I want to see him face the repercussions of his actions and move forward. ”

—by Canarianyellow on archiveofourown.org

last notes; starred ones are my personal favorites, and i'm adding to this list as i go,, so look out for updates!! you can find a better formatted version of this list here on google docs.

that being said, here are the gems i found on a yet another holy quest:

Walk Alone by adastrad*

Rating: Teen & Up

Word Count: 3.6K

Summary: You've lost your wings, you've lost your speed, and in the crowd ahead, you've lost him too. How do you know what name to call out when you don't even know what to call yourself?

as usual, kick-starting the list with one of the first fics i’ve read about them. we have some pretty good angst related to the latest manga chapters in our hands and a fascinating second person pov here. the ‘stream of consciousness’ style of wording kicks you right in the ribs, in a good way.

&&.

It's Cold, I Don't Want To Be Lonely

by onlyatitagain

Rating: Teen & Up

Word Count: 3.7K

Summary: When in the presence of Todoroki Enji, it was easy to feel warm and overwhelmed by heat in more ways than just physical. Hawks was very aware of the fire burning in his heart that roared to life whenever he was with his childhood hero, who was now his best friend. The relationship they had was special in the way of how close they had become, Hawks trusted the number one hero with his life and could always count on him no matter the circumstance.

What would happen if he said something and ruined that trust, the friendship they had built over months of knowing each other?

You should never play with fire, unless you want to get burned.

truly a beautiful hurt/comfort fic. enji’s characterization is gentle and might feel slightly OOC, but give it a chance. there is also some pretty cheesy couple stuff at the end and that might not be your cup of tea, just a heads up.

&&.

Fallen by copper_leaf**

Rating: Teen & Up

Word Count: 7.3K

Summary: Hawks’ attempt to infiltrate the League goes wrong.

Enji is the one he turns to.

both its part one and part two, this series can take my soul. literally 7K of sheer hurt/comfort, and a caring enji. hawks’ eyeliner is probably ruined by now. can i say this is probably the best fic i’ve read about them softness-wise? i can.

&&.

Burning Embers by copper_leaf**

Rating: Teen & Up

Word Count: 6K

Summary: Hawks wakes up, wingless, in Enji's arms.

the continuation of the fic above, here’s more content that will make you feel all mushy. a beautiful excerpt from it:

“It’s a flicker of light in the darkness, the last ember left in the heart that still has the power to bring all else to flame.”

&&.

The Bird Who Swallowed a Star*

by angyhawks (Soll)

Rating: Teen & Up

Word Count: 4.5K

Summary: Endeavor remembers Hawks' small hands, how they didn't burn as he danced on his palms.

How Hawks had whispered sweet nothing into his flames, words not important as his lips moved and his voice chirped.

He remember Hawks finding him, small and spent, and gifting him a feather to feed on.

Endeavor wishes a feather had been his only offer.

//in which Endeavor is a fire demon, Hawks is once again tied to the ground, and wouldn't it be nice if they could kiss?

&&.

Light by Caahs*

Rating: Teen & Up

Word Count: 2.1K

Summary: Since he was a boy, Hawks gathered an eternal distaste for darkness, which was preserved until his most recent days. However, the blazing figure of Endeavor always came up like his warm source of light, illuminating the most obscure paths and clarifying the most difficult decisions.

&&.

Emotions Are Hard, Love Even More So...

by aurora_whitlock

Rating: Teen & Up

Word Count: 4.4K

Summary: Hawks and Endeavour at the end of a long week. Alone. Together. Its just some cute, fluffy bullshit basically. Warm your hurt little hearts.

&&.

Cuff me to the truth of failure

by Not_A_Valid_Opinion

Rating: Gen

Word Count: 3.4K

Summary: The kid’s eyes are so wide, Hawks can see the entire silhouette of his wings in their reflection. “I want to be you.”

Shit.

“No, you don’t, kid,” he can’t help but promise, can’t stop the sadness in his eyes from flickering into view.

Hawks has dinner with Enji after a bad interview.

&&.

Look at what amounts from the jump

(and I'm never coming down) by

Not_A_Valid_Opinion

Rating: Teen & Up

Word Count: 3K

Summary: He stares at Endeavour with something close to regret, maybe closer to suspicion, but before Endeavour can catch the look it’s gone and replaced with a pursed lip and a glance at his phone. “I’ve gotta go. See you around, Enji.”

But the burly man stops him with his name. “Watch where you’re flying,” he says gruffly, though it’s different. It’s not an order. It’s not a request.

Whatever it is, Hawks takes it as a challenge.

Endeavour is worried about Hawks. Hawks doesn't know what to do with that information.

&&.

You mesmerise me in red and gold

by Arayne

Rating: Teen & Up

Word Count: 4.2K

Summary: Enji has never gotten to tell Hawks what's on his mind so he tries, in several ways, to make it clear how he feels.

&&.

We've got a good thing going

by lehnsherry

Rating: Teen & Up

Word Count: 3.7K

Summary: Enji is watching Shouto, so he notices the way his eyes snap to the kitchen doorway just before he hears the soft footsteps and the rustling of wings, and his heart jumps into his throat. He turns in his seat just in time to see Hawks walk in, eyes still closed and a hand scratching at his messy hair.

“Mornin’, babe, do you know where my -” Hawks breaks into a huge yawn, and then opens his sleepy eyes, and freezes in the doorway like Shouto used his power on him.

Enji’s mouth makes an involuntary sound of embarrassment, and Hawks flushes all the way down to his chest.

&&.

As He Lived by uzumae*

Rating: Teen & Up

Word Count: 2.3K

Summary: Hawks wants to imagine that he still has a place in a world he no longer belongs to.

&&.

future hearts by rire

Rating: Teen & Up

Word Count: 1.2K

Summary: When the rest of Hawks is putting on airs, it’s his wings that give him away.

&&.

Break off a piece of your heart by kettleowl

Rating: Gen

Word Count: 890

Summary: The High-End incident, but they are actors who are too emotionally invested in their roles.

&&.

to take a fall by rire

Rating: Teen & Up

Word Count: 2.3K

Summary: “What’s with that look, Endeavor-san?” Hawks smiles. It doesn't reach his eyes. “Don’t worry about me, I’m fine. I got what I wanted, didn’t I? Now I’ve got more free time than I know what to do with.”

&&.

A Thousand Flowers by adastrad*

Rating: Teen & Up

Word Count: 440

Summary: "Let's hope the next time the cherry blossoms fall, we will all be smiling."

&&.

#fantheflames by adastrad

Rating: Teen & Up

Word Count: 54.9K

Summary: Todoroki Shoto accidentally, on purpose, and with great regret helps make Hawks/Endeavor happen.

this is wholesome. one hundred percent cheff kiss. peak comedy with a dose of stan twitter. actually a shouto-centric fic and more like an outsider pov of slight endhawks.

&&.

This Gentle Earth by adastrad**

Rating: Gen

Word Count: 4.2K

Summary: Hawks buys a better excuse to keep visiting Musutafu, but damn it. Enji hadn't been looking to adopt.

guaranteed to melt your insides. enji ends up being a plant parent.

&&.

The Winner Takes it All by adastrad

Rating: Teen & Up

Word Count: 25.2K

Summary: Endeavor's eye is gone. He may say his injuries are his own responsibility, but it's Hawks' fault, isn't it? He will give Enji everything he can. His top secret mission will take the rest.

slaps the roof of the fic this baby right here is a shortcut for a brain burn. with a complicated storytelling and equally complex characterizations, which results in a slow but satisfying reading if you’re looking for a detailed story!! there’s seriously so much pining that it keeps you on your tiptoes until the end of it.

&&.

Roasting the Roaster

Rating: Teen & Up

Word Count: 3.7K

Summary:  Hawks gossips with the receptionist at Endeavor Hero Agency about what a dork the boss is, discusses Endeavor lookalike porn, and then ropes Shouto into lunch with Endeavor, whereupon Shouto just roasts his dad the whole time.

Can you roast a man who's already on fire? Apparently, yes. Yes you can.

(includes the hit single Did You Need Some Ice For That Sick Burn by Hawks, ft. Shouto Todoroki)

[Only tangentially related to the other fics in this series.]

slight crack fic for humor but it’s truly well-written. a shouto and hawks team up over endeavor was something i never deeply gave attention to yet it is gold and i need more of it. hawks writes a bop, endeavor’s whole agency thirst over the said man and everything leaves you with tears in your eyes from cackling at these dorks.

&&.

the fics listed below the cut are rated mature or

explicit by the authors, and therefore contain sexual content:

Penumbra by Nicolefrickle

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 1.8K

Summary: Enji wants to touch Hawks' wings. Badly.

this one is rated mature but the theme is only minorly implied so i can say it is safe to read without worrying about the rating. more like a fluff fic with hawks being a happy birb.

&&.

An Imperfect Cage by Crandberrycrush

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 55.5K

Summary: Hawks is an orphan, brought up in a charity school and thrust into the world at eighteen to work as a governor for the Todoroki family, a family that has more secrets than he can hope to unravel.

*A gothic romance based heavily on the novel Jane Eyre*

&&.

Liquid Nitrogen by surveycorpsjean

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 23.8K

Summary: Enji can't figure out why the hell Hawks keeps sleeping in his office.

the plot? the writing? the characterization? everything is perfect. i’m normally uncomfortable with this much amount of smut and debated if i should put this on the list or not, since it might consist of triggering content for some. please read all the tags beforehand starting this piece.

&&.

Palindrome by Nicolefrickle

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 7.9K

Summary: Hawks doesn't realize just how much he needs Endeavor, or why it feels like he's still racing time.

//

A character study of Hawks with flashbacks and inner thoughts, heavy on the Endhawks, heavy on the hurt

[aobawilliams]

First Line Tag Game!!

I was tagged by @idontonlytalkaboutdcmk

Rules: List the first lines of your last 20 stories (if you have less than 20, just list them all). See if there are any patterns. Choose your favorite opening line, then tag 10 of your favorite authors!

I’ll try to go from more recent to older (date of the creation of the doc will be written in MM/YYYY format), but this might not correspond to the time the sentence was actually written. (I might have missed some stuff but, oh well, whatever.)

1- (04/2021) Aizawa meets Izuku AU (MHA, OS in progress)

It was luck that brought Shouta here.

2- (03/2021) Vigilante Yagi AU (MHA, in-progress, either a long-fic or a serie of OS)

All Might has been a hero longer than he has ever been Yagi Toshinori.

3- (02/2021) Dad For All AU (MHA, various blurb on tumblr so far, most likely a longfic)

Izuku was trying really hard not to panic. One second he was fighting a villain with a still unknown quirk, the next he found himself __ years in the past, according to the news report currently going on TV.

4- (02/2021) Midoriya Inko’s Guide To Good Parenthood (MHA, in progress, probably a serie of OS?)

Midoriya Inko isn’t anything special. She's 30 going on 52, has a really bad case of anxiety, can and will cry for any reasons, and has gotten so many grey hair from her son's shenanigans its a wonder she still has green hair.

5- (12/2020) The Kids Will Be Alright (DCMK, spin-off of Sharpen Your Knives)

Ran was running. Fast, fast, faster, not fast enough. She put all her strength in her legs, went as fast as she could.

6- (11/2020) Before the coffee gets cold - The Sisters (DCMK, OS published on AO3)

It was probably foolish of her to come back to this place. But, on the off chance that the rumours were true, she wanted to give it a chance.

7- (11/2020) Sharpen Your Knives (DCMK, in-progress longfic, won’t be published for a long while)

Shinichi has no idea how things could have gone so wrong, so quickly.

8- (08/2020) The Time Travel Road Trip Case (DCMK, spin-off of Who The F- Is This) (technically not the first lines, but it’s the first part I’ve written)

Shinichi(Conan) felt someone lift him up from the back, he turned his face as he came level with their chest, one look at their face and…

Well, guess he found KID.

9- (06/2020) Who The F- Is This (DCMK, longfic in progress, the first chapters are on AO3)

Shinichi’s head was throbbing. He felt like someone was playing drums with his head. What has happened?

10- (06/2020) Harrinichi Kupotter (DCMK & Harry Potter x-over, longfic in progress)

Shinichi doesn't really believe in superior beings, gods or the supernatural. So far everything in his life could be explained by science and very human tricks.

11- (03/2019) Naobuza & Raphtaku AU (The Rising of the Shield Hero & Naruto x-over, an old baby I keep coming back to)

If you were to ask anyone to tell you about Naofumi Iwatani, those who remember him would tell you that he’s a weird kid. There’s something otherwordly about him, as if he was evolving in a totally different universe from them.

12- (01/2019) The self-indulgent FMA TT au (FMA, an old project that I should go back to, someday)

Somehow, sometimes, Ed felt like there was some being out there, out for him.

13- (01/2019) Nanadaime time travel AU (Naruto, will most likely be an OS, one day I will finish it enough to post it on AO3)

It was a late night In the Hokage office, one of many. As was usual by now, the Hokage was filling paperwork at his desk, his right-hand-man filling his own number of files at his side.

14- (11/2018) Baby Ed saving the world with hugs and punches (FMA, an old project that I will go back to)

On a warm night during the summer of 2005, as the sun left it’s place for the shining stars, Edward Elric went to sleep for the last time besides his lovely wife, in the house he has rebuilt with his own two hands.

15- (06/2018) The roadtrip 03Ed never knew he needed (FMA03/CoS & Fantastic Beasts and where to find them x-over, a serie of OS)

He wasnt sure what brought him back here.

Maybe he just wanted to make sure Envy was dead, one monster less in this world. Or maybe he just wanted to make sure there was no way between both world (no way to go home.)

16- (04/2018) Badass Women Roleswap AU (FMA, I still sometime go back to it, will most likely be a serie of OS)

Ed didn’t have many memories of his father. He could remember a tall man, who always looked sad. A giant who always had trouble when it came to holding him and his brother. A figure always working in his study. A person who always looked sad when teaching them alchemy.

17- (03/2018) FMA TT fic I wasnt planning to expend (FMA, old project, I will get back to it.) (it is, also, the first fanfic idea I got when I got back into writing fics)

Nothing happened as it should have been. No matter everything they’ve done to try and stop him, the dwarf in the flask still managed to bypass it all and, in some way, reach his goal.

And that’s pretty much it for any written stuff I got (anything else is too old)

Bonus: A la recherche du canard (Looking for the duck) - it’s an old assignment I had for french class, where we had to pick an article and write a short story based on it. (When I say old, I mean it’s from 2012 - it’s a good way to see how far I’ve come). It’s honestly really bad but I did have a lot of fun back then. (This is a translated from french version btw) (yes I stole names from Hetalia I was always terrible at finding names for characters)

The sun shined upon the sleeping man face, who opened his bright blue eyes. He got up suddenly, throwing his blanket on the ground. Today would be the day where he, Alfred F. Jones, Yorkville police officer, would accomplish his mission: keeping an eye on the annual fair set-up.

So, observations: You can very clearly see me go through various fandom phases it’s funny. Also my naming skills for the AUs got slightly better (but not that much.) I do tend to drop a name (usually the person from whom the POV is) in those first sentences. The first paragraph tend to get shorter with time (which might simply be because I realised I tend to lose focus when it gets too long.) I also never start on dialogue, generally I go for the POV’s thought uh.

I do quite like the ones for the Vigilante Yagi AU and the Midoriya Inko’s guide, The Kids Will Be Alright too. Badass Women I like it but also am not 100% happy with it.

This mostly made me want to share even more about these stories to y’all.

Anyway! Tagging @whoever wants to do it! I’m not sure whom I follow has already done it/been tagged or not, uuuuhhh, maybe @artistfingers ? If you’re a writer and wants to do it then go for it and tag me I guess.

[goffilolo]

Revival of Midoriya Izuku chapter 3

It’s been 84 years huh? As always the fanfic is up on ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16929483/chapters/52652386

also im aware of like some formatting issues with the fic when it comes to tumblr, so reading it on ao3 might be better if you particularly care about like italics and what not, but otherwise it’s all the same stuff.

“Move your ass Boom Boom Bitch, I wanna get there early!” shouted Izuku, as him and Bandit sat on rather stylish, but uncomfortable couch in the Bakugous’ living room that was probably worth more than both of them put together, which probably wasn’t even that much anyway since they’re both garbage, but it’s about the principle of the thing.

“Shut your mouth you Trash Twink, I’ll get there when I get there! And what the fuck are you doing in my house?” screamed Bakugou all the way from upstairs, although with his voice being as explosive as his quirk he might as well be standing right next to you considering the damage he does to everyone’s eardrums.

Speaking of hearing damage “Katsuki!!! Is that how you talk to our guest you rude brat?! Get over here!” exclaimed Aunt Mitsuki.

“Shut it old hag! Deku’s not a guest, he’s just an annoying cockroach that invites himself wherever he wants and does whatever he wants!” which is a fair point, considering Izuku has invited himself to Bakugou’s first day at UA for less than wholesome reasons. Some people might see it as the ultimate bitch slap to Bakugou’s ego (partially true), but for the most part it’s merely a testament of how far Izuku has come, considering he now only sees UA as a place where he can flirt with Tensei’s hot brother, rather than a means of accomplishing some bullshit dreams... But it’s not like Kacchan knows any of this, so he can fuck off.

If you were to ask Izuku what his deal with Bakugou was, he would reply “Best friends, duh” with enough sarcasm to last you the next ten years. If you were to press for any specifics his reply would be more along the lines of “I dunno, get the fuck out of my apartment” followed by having Trash Bandit sent after you. The bottom line was, his relationship with Bakugou was complicated, as were most thing in Izuku’s life, but that’s not unusual.

Izuku’s presence at the Bakugou household though? That’s quite unusual, yet more likely than you’d think.

And although the screaming match between the two Bakugous was ever so entertaining Izuku had places to be, and guys to seduce, so “Leave it Auntie” he exclaims in a dismissive manner “We don’t want to rile him up too much, otherwise he ain’t gonna get that 30-day chip from the anger management that he’s been gunnin’ for” he adds half-jokingly.

“I know, I know” she says “But you’d think he would act a little nicer by now, after all these months of therapy.”

“Wouldn’t expect miracles if I were you Auntie, you know what the say; Apple doesn’t fall far from the tree ” replies the boy with a shiteating grin as he motions towards Bakugou descending down the stairs, not missing the way Mitsuki flinched ever so slightly at his rather obnoxious comment.

“And to think you used to be such a nice boy yourself, I used to always tell your mother how great it would’ve been if Katsuki was more like you” she says in a mix of bittersweet nostalgia and regret.

“Yeah well, considering the shit I got for being nice , I think from now on I’d rather be a bastard and then some” exclaimed Izuku as he got up from the couch with Bandit in tow and made his way towards Bakugou. The other boy was getting ready to leave as well and his excitement for the day was concealed even more poorly than his mother’s discomfort at the current conversation “Have a good one Auntie!”

And with that, the two teenagers and one (1) sheep were on their way.

“Kacchan please , not everything is about you” said Izuku exasperatedly, hurrying over to the only empty seat on the train.

“Like hell it isn’t! This was supposed to be MY DAY, my first day at the school of my fucking dreams, and you’re trying to ruin it by following me around dressed like a dollar stripper!” replied Bakugou in a whisper-scream. He may have anger issues but he wasn’t a dumbass and the two of them were already drawing enough attention as it was. It wasn’t exactly easy to remain unnoticed on a train while carrying a green sheep; a task which fell on Bakugou, because Izuku was a weak-noodle-arm-bitch.

“First of all, I’m flattered that you think I’m worth a dollar” said the weak-noodle-arm-bitch in question “And second of all, this is my best outfit.” Said best outfit consisted of a worn out tank top that had THE HOES written on it in what once was a glittery pink; a pair of booty shorts with ENEMY OF STATE hand stitched onto the backside and rainbow patterned knee socks. The look was completed with a pair of pink platform crocs, because Izuku had standards ... and because he was short.

“God I hate you” murmured Bakugou.

“Don’t I know it Kacchan?”

The rest of the train ride was spent in silence.

It wasn’t until they actually reached the gates of the school that Bakugou had a thought; one that he probably should’ve had before they even left his house, but having a coherent thought while carrying a sheep and bickering with the sheep’s owner about whether the sheep should be referred to as a dog or not is in all fairness not possible.

“They won’t let you in” he said, voicing the sudden epiphany.

“Sure they will” replied Izuku.

“Oh yeah? How? Deku, you don’t fuckin’ go to this school, you don’t go to ANY school!” shouted Bakugou, because they were no longer on the train, therefore arguing with a lunatic stripper looking guy was now acceptable.

Izuku for the most part did not have a problem with that, because not only did he love having petty fights with people, he also loved proving them wrong, especially when everyone and their grandma accuses him of being a high school drop out.

“Shinjuku Metropolitan would beg to differ” he says, dropping the metaphorical bomb on the unsuspecting dipshit that is his childhood friend, after which he continues to walk, crossing the gates of UA High like he owns the damn place.

After about a minute of Bakugou standing frozen in shock, he finally snapped out of it when Bandit decided to start chewing on his uniform “Oi, hold the fuck up!” screamed the blond as he followed Izuku inside, while the sheep was being dragged along like a betrayed ragdoll  “Did you just say Shinjuku Metropolitan?!”

“Kacchan, you know I can’t hold you, you’re too heavy” replies the other teen, while pointedly ignoring Bakugou’s question and the looks he’s been getting from the students.

“Don’t change the subject shitty Deku! How the fuck did your ass get into a top non-hero high school in the whole damn Tokyo you bitch?”

“What, like it’s hard?”

“I fuckin’ swear to God-”

“Do it! Pull the trigger piglet!”

“WHAT’S GOING ON HERE?”

Their pointless quarrel, which was on a steady way into becoming a straight up brawl (Izuku having already pulled out his axe and lighted a cigarette using one of Bakugou’s warning explosions) came to a stop when they were interrupted by one of UA’s teachers, although in Izuku’s opinion she made a wrong career choice, considering being a Dominatrix probably paid more.

On another note, when someone asks you ‘what’s going on?’ that doesn’t mean they’re actually interested in whatever is happening at the moment, it means ‘stop’, therefore Izuku’s answer to that question, which usually involves something along the lines of “You see, I’m small, horny and full of rage, and I have no outlet for these emotions” is rarely appreciated. That is not to say that the lack of appreciation is going to stop him from spawning whatever dumb shit comes to his mind when faced with the judgement from authority figures. If anything it makes everything worse.

“That’s just how we flirt” replied the teen instead, all the while looking THE Pro-Hero Midnight dead in the eye and putting out his cigarette on Bakugou’s uniform jacket. Bakugou, for the most part was unable to even be mad at the cigarette burn considering he was busy recovering from being metaphorically punched in the kidneys by that line.

“And why aren’t you wearing uniform?” she asks suspiciously, pointing at Izuku’s attire.

“Oh, I don’t go here” he replied casually.

“Then pray tell , why are you in this school?”

“To get laid”

“TO WHAT?!” screamed Bakugou in surprise.

At this point Midnight took out her phone (no, her costume doesn’t have pockets, please don’t ask where she keeps it) and clicked on one of three contacts she keeps on her speed dial.

“Principal Nedzu, we got a situation…”

After telling Bakugou not to worry and that he will see him later in class, Izuku was dragged to the principal’s office by Midnight.

On the way there he tried cracking up another joke, telling her that his safe word was ‘avocado’. She did not appreciate that one either. For those of you wondering what happened to Bandit, the sheep ended up following Bakugou, much to the blond’s dismay.

Now, being sent to a principal’s office, especially of a school that you don’t even attend is usually a sign that you have royally fucked up. Not for Izuku though, because he had a plan! Contrary to the common belief, Izuku is not dumb. The fall didn’t kill off any of his brain cells, only his ability to give a shit, which made life much easier since he no longer had to worry about things like: people’s opinions, social norms, laws and heteronormativity.

Anyway, back to the plan. Izuku was not dumb, therefore even he knew that wandering around UA while not attending the school would not fly. He needed a way to stay, and for that he needed the guy who runs the whole shitshow; Nedzu.

Which is why the moment Midnight opens the door to the office Izuku stomps in like a man on a mission and stops right in front of an animal of questionable origin in a suit that is allegedly UA’s principal. A little unusual, but if a scumbag like Endeavour can hold the title of No. 2 Hero in Japan, then an animal can run a school.

The principal in question was calmly sitting on a couch and drinking tea, totally unconcerned with whatever bullshit Izuku was about to throw at him.

“Now, what seems to be the issue with this young man?” asked Nedzu.

“This young man-” said Izuku, pointing to himself in a rather cocky manner “has a message for you!”

“And what would that message be?”

The principal’s question was answered with what Izuku can only think of as the ultimate power move, or in this case; a literal ace up the sleeve. The boy proceeded to pull out a Monopoly “Get out of Jail” card out of his shorts (since he technically wasn’t wearing any sleeves) and slam it on the table right in front of Nedzu.

While to an outsider the current situation might seem absurd, it is important to remember that Izuku had a plan; one that could’ve never come to a fruition without a little help from the most unexpected person, which is why that card was no ordinary Monopoly card, but a very specific reminder that only Principal Nedzu would know the meaning of, and when he picked it up and flipped it around, the neatly written message on the back made its presence known.

It read: “You owe me one. - Hisashi”

“My dad says ‘Hi!’ ” exclaimed Izuku, taking one look at Nedzu’s face and knowing that he already won.

Was cashing in on a favour that his dad secured like 10 years ago a morally good decision? Debatable, but it got the job done so he’s not gonna complain. All that mattered was that Izuku now had a pass to enter the UA grounds whenever he pleased and nobody could stop him, and so here he was about to enter the classroom where Kacchan is supposed to be in. The bell hasn’t rung yet so he still had some time and who knows, maybe the handsome guy from the police station was in the same class?

With that in mind he opened the gigantic door and made his way into the classroom and was met with what looked like a pissing contest between his crush and his childhood friend.

“REMOVE YOUR FOOT FROM THAT DESK! SUCH AN ACTION IS INSULTING TO THOSE WHO CAME TO UA BEFORE US AS WELL AS THE CRAFTSMEN WHO MADE THIS DESK!”

“LIKE I CARE! WHAT MIDDLE SCHOOL ARE YOU FROM, YOU EXTRA ?!”

Ah yes, pissing contest at its finest, which meant that Izuku had options . The most obvious course of action would be siding up with Tenya and taunting Kacchan, which is not something Izuku would ever say no to. However , it also happens that the object of his affections had a massive boner for rules and authority, which is the exact opposite of everything Izuku stands for, so siding up with Kacchan it is.

And so he made his way to the pair of bickering teenagers and promptly pushed Kacchan’s feet off the desk, earning a scoff from the blond and an approving but baffled look from Iida, which only lasted for about 2 seconds, because Izuku being the gay disaster that he is simply HAD to ruin it all by claiming the desk as his sitting spot and giving Tenya the most ridiculous bedroom eyes that had Kacchan fake gagging like his life depended on it.

“Umm...Izuku, was it?” asked Tenya, feeling awkward under the other boy’s intense gaze.

“It sure was” replied the boy, feeling happy about leaving enough of an impression to be remembered from all those weeks ago “Fancy seeing you here, huh?”

“Indeed-”

“Oh for fuck’s sake Deku!” exclaimed Bakugou, completely fed up with the cringeworthy display in front of him “Just tell four-eyes that you came here because you wanted to see him and be done with it!”

“WHAT?”

“Kacchan, not now! I’m trying to put on some moves!”

“Well your moves are shit-”

“Hey, aren’t you that guy from the news who stabbed a villain in the eye with an axe?!” shouted one of the students while pointing at Izuku. There was something ironic about the fact that it was his stunt on live TV from 2 weeks ago that got everyone’s heads turning and not his iconic outfit, or inappropriate behaviour, or literally anything else about him. Like that’s just rude ok? And interrupting him while he’s trying to flirt? Also rude.

“Bitch, I might be” he replied anyway, because his reputation was on the line and because at this point literally everyone has gathered around the desk that he sat on, so things were way past the point of return. People were throwing questions and accusations at him left and right, Trash Bandit is nowhere to be found and his quil flask is not full enough for this bullshit. At this point Bakugou simply got up from his seat and sat at the back of the room, as far away from this nonsense as possible.

“It’s you!”exclaimed the boy with dual coloured hair and equally mismatched eyes “You’re the guy who keeps T-posing in front of my house. Can you please stop?!” he asked with the most deadpan face Izuku has ever seen despite his voice being filled with desperation.

“Look, I T-pose in front of a lot of houses so you’re gonna have to be more specific” he replied sarcastically — despite knowing exactly who he was talking to — since it probably wasn’t a good moment to mention that you’re besties with that person’s mom because you were both stuck in the same loony bin and so you already know all the family drama and have dedicated a good portion of your time to harassing her abusive piece of shit husband…especially with like 20 people around you.

“You’re the one who egged my limo!” shouted one of the girls at the back. She was a very tall girl with long, dark hair tied in a seemingly gravity defying ponytail and a kind face. She had an air of a distinguished lesbian about her, which Izuku could respect even if she was rich if the limo comment was anything to go by. He egged several limos in his lifetime because seeing rich people out in public makes him go apeshit, as it should, so really how is he supposed to remember everyone?

“And I will egg it again!” promised Izuku “When I see rich people out and about it triggers my fight-or-fuck response”

“Don’t you mean fight-or-flight?” she asked.

“No”

“Are you ok?”

“Not in the slightest”

And with that more people joined in on the conversation, including a particular girl who very much looked like an alien with her bright pink skin and black sclera who ended up complementing his outfit, which thank fuck someone here actually had good taste , as well as a guy who ended up being Ms Shouji’s son, and the only reason he found out was because the guy recognised his antics based on the gossip his mom told him and isn’t that a small fuckin world? And in the middle of it all laid an inconspicuous yellow sleeping bag that has been conveniently ignored by everyone for the sake of the plot up until now.

The sleeping bag began to seemingly unzip by itself and soon enough Bandit’s head poked out of it.

“Bandit! There you are”

“Baaah!”

“Guys! Look at this dog!” exclaimed one of the students who Izuku thought looked like a personification of weed, but he wasn’t going to say that. At least the guy knew what he was talking about.

“I’m pretty certain it’s a sheep-” added Tenya, taking his role as the last standing voice of reason in this room very seriously, even though his voice has practically drowned in the sea of teenagers chanting ‘good doggo’, similarly to how one might feel if they were standing at a dance floor while Baby Got Back started playing.

It’s also important to note that while all of this was happening, Bakugou who has sat himself at the back of the room was forced to witness the chaotic force that is Izuku interacting with multiple people at once while being able to convince about 20 of them to refer to his sheep as a dog, and in that moment he turned around staring into the void and asked himself “Am I having a fuckin stroke?”

“Nah, he’s always like that” replied the one person who was sat at the back along with him that Bakugou previously did not bother to notice.

“And how would you know, you damn extra?” asked Bakugou somewhat offended, because sure him and Izuku were not on the friendliest terms and the whole incident from last year really changed him and what not. But they still knew each other their whole lives, so really that had to count for something and Bakugou was not willing to compromise on that with some random extra who looked like a Tinky Winky humansona on drugs.

Unfortunately Bakugou was not able to get an answer because the entire class was interrupted by a homeless looking guy coming out of the yellow sleeping bag to shame student kind. “If you’re here to socialise, then get out” he said. Soon enough the room was filled with a tense silence as the students were unsure of what to expect next.

“It took 8 seconds for you to quiet down. Time is a precious resource. You lot aren’t very rational, are you?” asked the man as he walked to the front of the classroom, making it very clear that he was in fact their teacher. The man was rather tall and unkept, his hair was long and slightly curled, similar to Izuku’s own and the outfit he wore could only be described as a goth onesie. There was something very familiar about him but Izuku couldn’t quite make out what it was supposed to be.

However, just because Izuku’s memory aligns very closely with a slice of swiss cheese doesn’t mean that the same can be said about the teacher in question. As soon as he turned around to get a good look at his new class his eyes fell on Izuku and his face has swiftly shifted from that of practiced disinterest to shock and recognition that Izuku honestly was not expecting.

“What are you doing here problem child?” asked the man with a certain degree of disbelief in his voice. Once again there was something very familiar about him and the way he addressed Izuku and wait a minute did he just call me a problem child? That can’t be-

“Uncle Shouta” exclaimed the boy in a way that felt uncertain, yet childishly hopeful “Is that you?”

“Of course it is brat, who else would I be?” he replied with a hint of amusement.

[villlainarc]

To Fall in Love

Remember My Embrace

Summary: In which Logan has a realization, makes a decision, and says goodbye.

Pairing: Logince

Warnings: one (1) vaguely described kiss, Even More Angst Than Usual, unhappy ending (coming soon)

Word Count: 1850

A/N: the song in this chapter is the one (1) musical song, i will be there from the count of monte cristo

More A/N: this is a secret santa gift for @ari-the-anxious-ace and as such, is already completed (and can be found at this very moment on ao3). but so as not to spam you, chapters will be posted every three days.

special thanks to @cringeless for beta reading :)

masterpost || 1 || 2 || 3 || 4 || 5 || 6

read on ao3 or below the cut

find other stuff i’ve written under #writingxofink

Logan has been a fool. He’s been a fool for thinking that he, a siren, could fall in love without it ending in disaster. He’s been a fool for getting so attached to Roman when he knows how this has to end. He’s been a fool for staying in this grotto and waiting for Roman to come back time and time again. He’s been a fool for waiting so long before draining his victim, for feeling his power grow weaker by the day and still putting off the inevitable.

Because this is inevitable. He can’t continue waiting for a different option; he’s not going to survive until then. No one else is coming. Logan can barely lure Roman out to the grotto, much less someone possibly oceans away.

If he doesn’t do this, he’s going to die.

But at the same time, he can’t do this. He knows instinctively that he will not, under any circumstances, be able to drain Roman.

Logan doesn’t have any other choice though. Not besides death.

Sure, he could abandon Roman, leave him here on the island and use what little energy he has left to swim to somewhere less secluded in the hope that maybe then, someone would hear him. It’s the best choice he has, in all honesty. Even then though, that’s a lot to hope for. That could still very well end in death.

And, though he will never admit it out loud, the sentimental part of himself that grows with every moment spent alongside Roman wants to stay with the man he’s fallen in love with for just a little while longer.

Because this is love. It had taken Logan forever to admit, but what he feels for Roman is love. That’s why he won’t—can’t—drain Roman. That’s why he doesn’t want to leave, even if it would be the best choice for both of them.

Even if it’s likely that Roman doesn’t love him in return.

Even on the off chance that he does, it will never amount to anything, no matter how many hours they’ve spent talking beneath the stars.

Even though Roman is sweet and understanding and kind, even though Roman listens to and cares about him in a way that no one else in his life ever has, even if he’s going to miss Roman more than he can possibly imagine… that won’t change a thing.

Their love will be one that’s doomed from the start. And Logan may be selfish, but he will never allow Roman to be hurt at his hands.

So no matter how much he doesn’t want to, Logan is going to leave. Tonight.

Because he can’t keep luring Roman back, keep singing to him of a dream that will never come true, not if Roman had been right about it. Logan refuses to bring pain to the one person he’s ever truly cared for.

Even if it means returning to a life of loneliness, even if it means breaking his own heart, he has to.

It’s not as though Roman will miss him anyway. Really, this is for the best.

Logan knows this. It’s the only option he has that doesn’t end in his, Roman’s, or both of their deaths. Therefore, logically, he shouldn’t have any doubts about following through with it.

But with love, Logan has found, logic rarely ever has a place. As Roman had said, sometimes you have to “follow your heart” in order to find happiness.

It’s too bad, then, that Logan can’t do that this time. This time, he has to do what’s right.

So, as he’s done every night for the past month, two weeks, and five days, Logan calls out to Roman with the song that has become theirs. “Ah-ah, ah-ah.”

By this point, surely Roman knows that if he wanted to ignore the song, he could. Surely he’s felt its pull growing weaker as Logan’s power dwindles.

But for whatever reason, Roman’s still coming tonight. Logan can feel him and his dream traveling closer, though he genuinely doesn’t know why. Roman could easily leave, so why hasn’t he?

There’s one explanation that Logan can think up off the top of his head, but the idea seems so impossible to him that he denies it the ability to take up any space in his mind. He doesn’t so much as think the words.

🌊

Roman’s journey, as per usual, takes a few minutes. This gives Logan more than enough time to rethink his idea and back out of something that will only bring him pain. He won’t, though. He refuses to allow Roman to be hurt by dragging this out for longer than he ever should have. This is something he should have done long ago if he’s being honest, but this is also the sort of thing that’s done better late than never.

When he hears Roman’s footsteps drawing nearer, Logan begins to sing without preamble, without waiting for Roman to be able to say anything at all. If he starts to talk, Logan will undoubtedly rethink a decision that has to be made. So he sings, losing himself in this final song.

“In the light that falls at moonrise,

In the rhythm of the rain,

In the miracle of ordinary days.

In the hush of night,

I will be in the whispers of lovers

Everywhere

You will find me there.”

Roman silently picks his way over the remain rocks before him, his feet navigating the path deftly in a testament to how often he’s been here. He sits down quietly in front of Logan, listening to the song spun just for him with everything Logan has left to give woven into it.

“In the rustle of a curtain,

In the bustle of the world,

In a thousand little unexpected ways.

When you lift your gaze,

I will be like the shimmer of one small star

Out there

Shining everywhere.”

As of this moment, Roman is enraptured by Logan’s voice, unable to fully comprehend the lyrics and their meaning. One day though, he will realize what they mean and hopefully, he will understand. By then though, Logan will be long gone. So perhaps that doesn’t matter at all.

“I will be there,

Beside you

Through the lonely nights that fall.

So close your eyes,

Remember my embrace.

I will be there,

Like mercy

I will find you through it all.

This do I swear:

I will be there.”

Just as he had with the very first song he’d sung for Roman, Logan allows him the knowledge of the lyrics to reply with, if he so chooses. Since the song is curated by the sirens’ magic for one person and one person alone, Roman would not know the lyrics on his own. And since Logan has grown to know Roman as an incredibly dramatic person, he knows that he will seize any chance to sing and show off. Tonight is no different.

“In a language never spoken

Lived the promises we made,

In the endless love that owns me, heart and soul.

In the certainty I will always be true

And as near as my next prayer,

You will find me there.”

Logan has to remind himself then that he’s still the siren, not Roman. If he were to be asked though, Logan would have claimed without hesitation that Roman’s voice is the more beautiful one, the most beautiful one he’s ever heard. Truly, it’s no wonder that he’d fallen for this man so easily.

“In the echo of the ocean,

In the haunting of the wind,

In mysterious, extraordinary ways.

Through the darkest sky,

I will be like the shimmer of one small star

Out there,

Shining everywhere.

“I will be there,

Beside you

Through the lonely nights that fall.

So close your eyes,

Remember my embrace.

I will be there,

Like freedom

I will find you through it all.

This do I swear:

I will be there.”

After Roman’s chorus, there’s the bridge of the song, a bridge that requires the two of them to alternate lines and shape this into an even more lovely duet. The chorus after it follows the same format, and Logan nearly swoons as he realizes how much he’s going to be able to hear Roman’s voice.

“In the harbor quarter.”

“In the stone and mortar.”

Just as he had in Roman’s chosen duet the second time they’d met, Logan allows Roman’s voice to overpower his as they sing together, “In the star that we both share.”

Roman again takes the lead in the next line, “In the sound of laughter.”

“Now and ever after.”

The final part of the song allows their voices to intertwine again, overlapping and harmonizing. Logan is intensely grateful to his magic for choosing such a perfect final song.

“Look for me, I will be there.

I will be there,

Beside you

Through the lonely nights that fall.

So close your eyes.”

“Remember my embrace.”

“Remember my embrace.”

“I will be there.”

“I’ll be there.” Roman’s line is shortened slightly so he can catch up to Logan and they are able to sing in unison again.

“Like justice,

I will find you through it all.”

“This do I swear.”

“This do I swear.”

“I will be there.”

“This do I swear,

I will be there.”

For one final time, Logan and Roman’s voices are lifted in ethereal harmony.

“This do I swear,

I will be there.”

As the last note hangs in the air, Logan smiles softly, nearly forgetting why he’d brought Roman here in the first place. But he doesn’t forget when he sees Roman’s eyes on him, glittering in the light of the moon. He remembers why he has to leave, no matter how much his heart may break. So Logan leans forward, resting his forehead against Roman’s in an action that’s as feather-light and loving as a siren’s touch could possibly be.

”Goodbye,” Logan whispers, the word barely a breath on the wind as he leans infinitesimally closer to Roman. For the first time, he connects their lips.

There are no sparks, and the world hasn’t become suddenly perfect. It just feels right. There’s no heat behind the action, just a gentle expression of everything Logan could never possibly say himself. The kiss is soft and short and given time, it could become so much more.

But there’s no time left for them. The only thing Logan can do is whisper another goodbye before sealing his words in place with a second, final kiss. He leans back, and the smile he gives Roman is a sad one.

Wishing he could do anything but this, Logan turns from the man he’s fallen in love with and vanishes into the water with a flick of his tail. Then he’s gone.

---

taglist: @thewhiteraven73

[biamondpickaxe]

hey any tips for someone starting to write fanfic? I'm inspired but have no idea where to start or what to do lol

Jeydon’s Official Underqualified Fanfiction Writing Tips - Chock Full of Dry Humor And Brutal Honesty:

First off don’t write on your phone. It fucks up any shred of formatting possible, you have a higher chance of making typos and it’s just all around a bad idea.

Speaking of typos - never upload your work (if you plan on sharing it anywhere) the same day you write it. Write what you can and then take a break. Come back later that day to revise and edit but sleep on it before you publish it so you can read over it with fresh eyes. I don’t always follow my own advice and when I don’t you can tell because there are lots of typos but that’s okay because I am king of the Romans and above grammar.

Or if you want to avoid all that you could just ask someone to beta your fics.

Okay all of that was kind of obvious so now you’ve got to get honest with yourself:

Do you sometimes start projects but never finish them? Are you easily overwhelmed by big loads of work? Do you compare yourself to others a lot? Do you look up to successful fanfic writers?

If you answered yes to any of these questions, don’t try to write a whole multi-chapter fic!! Do not! Start with oneshots because you get used to writing fanfic but you don’t have to develop a plot or anything. And shooting for a 10k+ word fic that’s as good as really experienced writer’s work is just unrealistic. Allow yourself time to grow and improve and don’t be too hard on yourself.

Also if you do plan on putting your fics on the Internet here’s the tiers of the platforms you can upload fanfic onto:

Bottom Tier: fanfiction.net

Nobody really uses this anymore so it’s a safe bet if you don’t want any feedback at all

Mid-Bottom Tier: Wattpad

The bar is set pretty low for Wattpad fics so literally anything goes.

Mid-Top Tier: Tumblr

Tumblr fic writers are slightly more advanced but don’t be intimidated! It’s a really nice community with lots of resources and almost everyone is willing to help you out if you have questions. I was really confused about masterlists for the first like 7 months I wrote fanfic so watch out for the confusing mess that is linking and organizing your fics. (Also writing and linking a multi-chapter fic to Tumblr is fucking painful so I would avoid that personally.)

Top Tier: Archive Of Our Own

I don’t know how to explain it but people on ao3 just have an air of confidence and professionalism about them that’s slightly intimidating. Only my best and most creative works go on ao3. You can upload oneshots here but most people use it to read longer fics.

I know you said you’re feeling inspired but trust me: ✨that won’t last!✨ If you need inspiration, you can search for prompts on Tumblr or try writing fics based off of songs. As cheesy as it sounds, some words are better than no words so don’t let yourself get overwhelmed with word count or word goals.

Also! Generally I advise against comparing your fic stats (notes, hits, kudos, comments etc.) to other people’s fics but let’s be real. We all do it. If you do do it, just note that smut almost always gets more praise and attention than other forms of writing so comparing normal fics to those ones would just be inaccurate as well as disheartening.

Hmm okay that’s all I got for now. Don’t be afraid to ask people to help because I promise feeling a little bit embarrassed about asking someone is nothing compared to the feelings of frustration and confusion you’ll have if you never ask questions. If you want some good references and tips from people who actually know what they’re doing and aren’t total dumbasses like I am, I’d scroll through the blog @phanficsanonymous because they post a bunch of super helpful stuff.

Good luck, Emily! I believe in you!

[jilliancares]

A Royal Pain: Chapter One

Summary: Dan Howell is a prince. Unlike most, known for their benevolent behaviors and elegant manners, he’s known for his sullen mood and vituperative remarks. After all, being a prince is not much fun; not with the lack of friends and the abundance of dumb tasks, such as trying to find the perfect bride and hosting dinners with nobles. Dan only has one friend, a prince from the neighboring kingdom Leona, and his days improve greatly when Phil finally comes to visit. However, with Phil comes a variety of strange accidents, all of which putting Dan’s life in danger. Is someone trying to assassinate Dan? 

Word Count: 4.2k

TW: none (and there’ll be no major major ones for this story)

link to masterlist

You can also read this on ao3 or wattpad!

next chapter 

CHAPTER ONE:

"It won't work," a gruff voice said firmly. "What you're planning—it can only end in disaster."

"It could work," the other responded, his voice softer but equally as sure. "It will work."

"To kill the king is madness! It's suicide."

"Yes," he responded, humming thoughtfully. "But to kill the prince..."

"The prince, sir?"

"To kill the prince is to weaken the king, and to weaken the king is to weaken the kingdom. It'd be much easier to defeat a defeated king."

"I'm still not so sure..."

"Lay your trust in me and you shall see how we succeed.”

—

“Please, Your Highness,” the maidservant—possibly named Cecily—pleaded. Dan had trouble remembering their names, mostly because there were so many of them and it took too much effort to try to actually care.

“I don’t see why I should have to go,” Dan answered without turning around to look at her. He was currently leaning against the door to his closet, examining the many outfit choices he had in there. There were clothes of all variety—different styles and colors and designs. He’d rather stay in his pajamas, complete with a wondrous silky robe, than change into any of them. He knew better than that, of course—he was standing at the door to his closet, anyway. He wasn’t ever likely to get his way against his father, and this woman should know that by now. He might be complaining and acting like he wouldn’t bother to go, but he did always end up doing so.

“It’s important for a young prince such as yourself to find a bride, Your Highness.”

Dan sighed. Maybe the process of finding a bride wouldn’t be so horrendous if there weren't absolutely zero good ladies out there. Or at least, his father wasn’t having any luck finding them. Dan was constantly having to meet and greet and dine with the ladies his father brought in for him, all as dull and unimpressive as the last. Dan was bored. He didn’t want to meet with any more girls; he wanted to read books and ride his horse and spy on the townspeople from the great stone wall surrounding the castle.

“I’m feeling quite sick,” Dan sighed. “Perhaps I shouldn’t meet with the lady after all.” He spun around to look at the maidservant then, having to resist grinning at the look of abject horror on her face. “Wouldn’t want make her feel unwell, right?”

“I-I could call a healer,” Possibly-Cecily said, and Dan huffed in annoyance, rolling his eyes.

“Whatever. I’ll just get ready.” The maidservant nodded gratefully and disappeared from his quarters, shutting the door firmly behind her. Dan followed curiously, pressing his ear against the door as soon as she was gone.

“How did it go?” someone grunted—one of the guards outside Dan’s room. It was nice that they were there in case some psycho tried to get into his room or something, but really it could be horrendously annoying. He couldn’t go anywhere without everyone having to know about it, and privacy was virtually nonexistent.

“Bad,” the maidservant replied. “The Prince is in a mood today.”

Dan huffed, making a rude gesture at her towards the door. If she wanted to pretend his personality was a mood to sooth her hurt feelings then so be it. He knew that none of the servants really liked him—no one really liked him, for that matter. There were other nobles and such that he interacted with on occasion, but he wasn’t necessarily friends with any of them. It was all just formalities; everything was so incredibly fake that only an artificial friendship could last that way.

He only had one true friend, anyway, though it wasn’t like he got to see him often. It’d been a few years since the last time they’d been together, their communications having been strictly by letter since. Was it not understandable that he might not be the friendliest of people?

“I would be too if I were constantly having to court women,” one of the guards responded. It was Alfonzo, one that Dan had always been able to tolerate. He gave a nod of approval, hearing Alfonzo’s defense of him.

“And not just any women,” the first guard said. What was his name again? Steve? Richard? “Noble women.”

“Bentley’s right,” Alfonzo said. Bentley? Since when had there been a guard named Bentley? Dan rolled his eyes. He’d never been very good at names anyway. “Noble women are horrendous. Stuck up and snooty. Can’t stand ‘em.” Dan couldn’t help nodding in agreement.

“You only think so because they’re out of your league,” Cecily responded. “Make sure Prince Daniel is on his way in fifteen minutes. I don’t know what the King will do if he’s late in greeting his guest again.”

Dan bit down on his groan as he slumped away from his door and back to his closet. He just wanted to get this over with. He’d tell the woman, whoever she was, that she looked wonderful while trying to ignore how hideous her dress looked or how strange the ornaments looked in her hair. She would blush and stutter around him the entire time, and he would have to grit his teeth to keep insulting comments from pouring out. Finally, he would be able to send her on her way with a kiss to her hand, after which he would inform his father that she was horrendous and he had no wish to see her ever again. After that, at least, he’d be able to lock himself in his rooms and read until late into the night when his candles had burnt up nearly all their wicks.

He ended up wearing a pretty simple outfit and spruced it up with a cape, though he had to admit that he felt a bit like a ponce wearing it. He couldn’t deny that it looked good on him though, so soon enough he was on his way.

“All set, Your Highness?” Alfonzo asked as Dan stepped out of his chambers. Dan nodded, feeling his willingness to speak fade even more. He was dreading his afternoon. Perhaps he really could feign an illness and get out of the whole affair before it had gone on for too long. “Then let’s be on our way.”

Dan started walking, the two guards easily falling into formation slightly beside and behind him. It had always felt ridiculous, the fact that people were constantly walking with him but not with him. He’d grown used to it, of course, but that didn’t stop it from being stupid. As a kid he’d looked up to the guards, had pestered them with questions and begged them to play with him. It wasn’t a guard’s place to play with the Prince, however, and so mostly Dan had done without. He had a few vague memories of guards occasionally caving, of them playing cards with him or obediently looking for him while he hid in his chambers, but those instances had been few and far in between.

He didn’t bother to talk to the guards with him now and knew that they wouldn’t speak to him first without a proper reason. It wasn’t as if it was looked down upon for Dan to converse with them, it was just that there really wasn’t a point. Plus, he might mistakenly think of a guard as his friend if he talked to them too much, which could never actually be true. All the servants were paid to be there, paid to be friendly to Dan. Any perceived friendship would never be real.

Dan subconsciously slowed as they got closer to the foyer, his footsteps echoing loudly on the stone floors. The armor of the guard’s behind him clinked obnoxiously with every step. It would’ve driven Dan crazy if the stuff was on him, if he was constantly plagued with the sound of his own movement. Truly, the only good part about courting this woman would be getting rid of his guards. Normally they wouldn’t leave his room unguarded and Dan was free to roam around the castle and the grounds at his own will, but when intentionally letting someone into the castle, he was supposed to be accompanied.

Truth be told, Dan thought it was a bit bullshit. As if the guest hadn’t already been accosted by several different security measures. For all they knew a stranger could be breaking into his rooms right this very moment while his guards were otherwise occupied. Dan sighed sullenly, knowing that he wouldn’t be able to avoid this any longer. He was already shuffling his feet, already pulling even closer to the large entryway.

“Don’t worry, Your Highness,” Alfonzo said, and Dan’s head jerked up in surprise as he turned to look at the guard with wide eyes. “It’ll be over before you know it.”

For a moment, Dan didn’t know what to say. Was Alfonzo trying to comfort him? “I—Right,” he muttered, looking at the guard almost skeptically. “Thanks,” he managed to add. The word tasted dry in his mouth. When was the last time he’d thanked someone?

Dan continued into the foyer on his own where a few maidservants were waiting. The guards hung back by the door, falling into their normal position, feet shoulder width apart and hands rested on the handle of the sword at their sides. A few servants fussed over him, making sure his clothes were straight and neat. A boy that looked about twelve was helping them, probably apprenticing to be a servant when he was older.

“All set, Prince Daniel,” Cecily said. “Go woo that lady!”

“It’s her that needs to woo me,” Dan muttered, but he stalked off towards the next room finally, smiling genially to the woman seated within. There was a cup of tea in front of her, along with a plate of pastries, but she hadn’t touched a thing. Likely too nervous to eat any of it.

“Good afternoon,” Dan greeted, keeping the smile pasted on his face. He longed to sneer and pout and traipse back to his room, but that would put up a bad front. “It’s so very nice to meet you. I’m Daniel.” He wracked his brains, trying to remember what her name was. His father had likely told him the night before, when he’d first told him that he’d even have a lady to escort today, but the knowledge had slipped his mind.

“You’d think they’d have better tea in a castle,” the girl commented. Dan had to keep his mouth from dropping open in surprise. What the fuck?

“Well—” Dan managed, amongst all the other confusion swirling about in his mind. He cleared his throat. “I’m more of a coffee person, myself.”

The girl simply raised an eyebrow. Dan hated her immediately. Normally he just felt disinterested and vaguely annoyed at the beginning of the dates—but this? This feeling of hatred? This was new. How could his father have thought that this woman could possible be an eligible choice for him? She was even worse than the girl who’d picked her nose the entire date, and that’d been fucking disgusting. Dan hadn’t even kissed her hand before bidding her a farewell. He was pretty sure he’d been unable to keep his nose from crinkling every time he’d looked at her, too.

“Would you like to go for a walk around the grounds?” Dan suggested, even half-heartedly offering his arm for her. The girl sighed heavily.

“Do you even know my name?”

Dan paused. “Excuse me?”

“Do you know my name.” She said it flatly; it wasn’t a question.

“Of course,” Dan answered.

“Then what is it?”

Dan swallowed. His father had mentioned it just the night before, so logically the information was locked away in his own mind somewhere. He just had to extract it and present it somehow. After exactly three seconds of awkward silence, during which no revelations came about, Dan guessed.

“Isabella,” he said.

“Wrong.”

Dan shrugged, his impatience and annoyance getting the best of him. He didn’t like this woman’s attitude, didn’t like anything about her. He was tempted to just end end his afternoon with her here. “Fine then—what is it?”

“Gertrude.”

Dan felt himself swallow thickly. How could his father have uttered the word Gertrude the night before without Dan noticing? Without him vomiting and refusing the woman out of hand? He sighed, preparing for a long day.

—

All in all, the date was absolutely the worst thing ever. Dan had made sure to rant about it to his father after happily escorting Gertrude out of the castle (without kissing her hand, not that she would’ve likely allowed it). He’d exclaimed that if he ever had to meet with someone so completely obnoxious and foul again he would end the date immediately. His father had looked quite taken aback but had apologized for misconstruing his perception of the young lady. “She seemed quite more refined when I met with her,” he had explained.

Now, Dan sat in the bath, doing his best to wash the horrible day from his mind (and body). A piece of paper sat on the edge of the large basin, a pen laying abandoned on top of it. With a sigh, Dan dried his hand and picked up the utensil, putting pen back to paper once again.

Anyway, this was by far the worst woman yet. I might have to swear off women forever after this—she was absolutely horrid! The very first thing she said to me was that we had bad tea. Af if we’d give a visitor our top quality tea anyway!

I’m just glad your father’s not doing the same to you. How is it that mine wants me married as soon as possible and yours is content to sit and wait? Although I guess that’s what happens when you’re not the oldest sibling. Honestly, I think it’d be better if I had an older brother too.

How are you, by the way? I was thinking about you just the other day while I was out riding. Remember how we used to race? I can’t wait until the day I see you again—I think for sure I’ll beat you this time! And I won’t fall off my horse either; I think that’s an embarrassment I can live without.

Plus the trees always look wonderful at this time of year. They all burst into bloom so quickly and then it’s over before you know it. I hope you can be here to see it one day. Agghhh sometimes I think of just stealing my horse and riding all the way Leona myself. I think I could do it too—I’d just have to find some pretty heavy cloaks so no one would recognize me. And I might have to train with a sword some more to fend off any scoundrels on my journey. All in all, I think it would be worth it to see you again.

Dan threw his pen down, sinking lower in the bathtub. He submerged himself completely, clenching his eyes shut and holding his breath.

Sometimes he missed his friend so deeply his chest ached. There was nothing like having someone around to just be with, to talk to and pass the time with. He wanted to bring it up with his father, to have him request for the King of Leona to send his son over again, but he didn't know if his father would ever comply. He’d been encouraging Dan to try to make friends closer to home for as long as he could remember—it wasn’t his fault if his one and only friend was weeks worth of travel away.

Dan’s chest still ached, but now it was with the need to breathe. He held his breath for even longer, held it and held it until he thought he might just explode from lack of oxygen, until his heart was pounding fervently in his head, and then he finally sat up and gasped for air, panting and panting until he didn’t feel on the brink of passing out anymore.

Dan stood and stepped out of the cooling tub, leaving the leftover water for the maids to dispose of, and grabbed a mass of fluffy towels to dry himself off with. He changed into another pair of silk pajamas—these ones as dark as the midnight sky—and draped a robe around himself as well. He managed to dry his hair as best he could by rubbing it vigorously with a towel before dropping it to the floor for the maids to clean in the morning.

He let out a large yawn as he reached for the door handle. Warm baths never failed to make him sleepy. Now Dan just wanted to light a fire in the grate and let it heat up his room nice and toasty, and then he could curl up under his sheets and read or perhaps finish his letter. He always made sure to write as much as he could think of, seeing as it took a while for the letters to arrive. He’d set his current one on the sink, trusting the maids not to read it and invoke on his privacy.

Finally, he stepped out of his bathroom and crossed from his living room, complete with many bookshelves and cushy armchairs, into his bedroom. Then again, he was feeling quite tired. Perhaps he’d take a nap before he started reading tonight—

“Took you long enough. You know, that was the longest bath I think I’ve ever had to endure. You’re more pampered then me.”

Dan froze, his hand still on the door to his room, his foot still raised as if to take a step. He slowly brought his gaze up to his bed, where a stranger was currently lounging casually, as if that wasn’t Dan’s bed.

“Excuse—” Dan began, before abruptly breaking off. That wild grin… Those eyes… “Phil?’

“You didn’t recognize me, you bastard?”

Dan let out a noise akin to a squeal before he was sprinting across the room and diving onto the bed, yanking Phil up and into his arms. Phil was laughing, evidently delighted at having been able to surprise Dan like this. Dan couldn’t help being anything but ecstatic and confused beyond belief, but he didn’t care. God, Phil had looked so different when he’d last seen him! And he’d definitely cut his hair since then—Dan had to admit that it looked much better now.

A few blissful moments passed while Dan accepted the fact that his friend was finally here again, that he was back, before Phil was ruining it.

“But seriously, what took you so long in there? Enjoying yourself, were you?” he said suggestively.

“No, fuck you!” Dan said, shoving away from Phil and sprawling next to him on the bed. “I was just contemplating how horrible my day had been. And I was writing it in a letter for you, too.”

“Aww,” Phil cooed. “You missed me!” It was then that Dan noticed the pile of papers in Phil’s lap, all of which were covered front to back in Dan’s handwriting. Phil must’ve found the stack of papers on his beside table, the current letter he had been compiling for his friend. He couldn’t help the blush suddenly tinging his cheeks. There was something safe about knowing Phil was reading his letters from miles and miles away, but it felt different when he was right here, when he could respond to anything on those papers out loud—not that Dan had written anything incriminating.

“No shit,” Dan muttered. “You missed me too! You came all the way to Hirona, for fuck’s sake.” Phil laughed.

“Yeah, I did. Well? Was it a good surprise?”

“A terrifying one is more like it. How’d you get into my chambers anyway?”

“There wasn’t anyone guarding them,” Phil said easily. Dan scoffed.

“This is exactly how I’m going to get killed one day,” he promised. “My guards will follow me somewhere and a murderer will sneak into my room and murder me.”

“Good thing I’m not a murderer then,” Phil said. Dan snorted. “Now show me to my rooms, Prince Daniel. I require a long night’s rest and a plentiful breakfast, I’ve traveled long and hard to get here so quickly.”

“Don’t call me Prince Daniel, Prince Philip.” Dan rebutted. “And why are you here, anyway?” Even as he asked, he stood and gestured for Phil to follow him. They had a guest quarters on the same floor as his, which is obviously where Phil would stay. It was the closest thing to Dan, anyway, and he’d want to be able to get to Phil as quickly as possible at any given time—they had a lot of years to make up for.

“Ugh, I’ll tell you all the sorry details tomorrow,” Phil promised. “It was all I could do to stay awake to surprise you. Imagine walking into your room and seeing me sleeping in your bed.”

Dan laughed. “I probably would’ve had my guards slice you into pieces,” he admitted. Phil gasped in offense. “I doubt you recognized me after three years either!”

Phil scoffed. “I most certainly did.”

Dan opened the door for him and they both spilled out of the room, surprising Alfonzo and Bentley. “What the—who’s this?” Bentley spluttered.

“Thankfully not an assassin,” Dan joked, before shoving Phil forward down the hall. “I’ll be showing the Prince of Leona to his rooms—could one of you inform my father that he’s here?”

“Oh, he already knows,” Phil assured him. Dan furrowed his eyebrows. Had his father really let him complain to him—quite rudely—about Gertrude while knowing Phil was waiting for him in his rooms? Had Gertrude been planned, even? Perhaps his father had just chosen the very first person he found, wanting Dan to be out of his rooms for the day. Dan simply shook his head at the deceitfulness.

“Where are your guards?” Dan asked as he turned the corner and brought Phil to the entrance of his quarters.

“I think they’re dining or something,” Phil answered before opening the door and peering inside. The rooms were spotless—they got cleaned and dusted even when nobody was currently using them.

“Do you want me to get some to guard your rooms?” Dan asked.

“I’m sure they’ll find their way up here soon enough,” Phil excused. He turned to lean his back against the jam of the door, smiling at Dan. His eyes seem to twinkle in the low light from the torches on the walls. The castle was really much prettier during the day time when the natural light filtered in through all the grand, glass windows. At night it looked so dark and dreary, as if they were living in a giant dungeon rather than a castle. Dan liked to extinguish all the candles in his room at night and let the moonlight filter into his room instead, though it really wasn’t the best light to read by.

“It’s good to see you again, Dan,” Phil said with a soft smile. Dan couldn’t keep the answering smile from creeping onto his own face. It was so rare that he genuinely smiled—that he did it without thinking, without purpose. It felt nice.

“You too. I’m glad you came.”

“Me too.” Before Dan could react, Phil was pulling him into a hug, which Dan reciprocated easily. Their arms wound each other seemingly without effort, and Dan breathed in Phil’s familiar scent. He’d forgotten it in the three years since last seeing him, but now that he was smelling it again it seemed impossible that the scent had once faded from his memory. It was funny—Dan never really hugged people either. He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d hugged his father. And now that he was thinking about it, the last time he’d hugged anyone at all might’ve been when he was saying goodbye to Phil all those years ago, waving him away as he departed for Leona. It was surprising how nice hugging felt now.

“Goodnight,” Phil finally said, pulling away from Dan after what had surely only been seconds and opening his door wide. “I’ll see you in the morning—preferably with a large breakfast tray in hand.”

Dan snorted. “I won’t be bringing you your breakfast, a maid will do that.”

Phil frowned. “Now is that any way to treat your best friend? You’d rather send random women at me? The next thing I know you’ll be making me court them.”

Dan scoffed and shoved Phil into his room with a laugh. He spun around and retraced his steps back to his own quarters, unable to wipe the large smile from his face, nor the jaunt from his step.

“Goodnight Alfonzo, Bentley,” he said with a nod, before slipping past them and opening his door.

“Wha—” Bentley muttered, but Alfonzo shushed him immediately.

Dan was whistling as he finally finished getting read for bed. He found himself skipping his usual late-night reading session and simply climbing into his bed instead—hoping he’d fall asleep quickly and wake up just as fast.

~~

next chapter 

hey everyone! i hope you like the start to my latest fic!! i’m super excited about it and this ideas just been kind of under my belt for a while so i’m really excited to be able to start writing it!

i update every saturday so you can be expecting new chapters then (if you’re new to my chaptered stories and don’t know that yet) and i’d also like to thank @mangothatismelancholy for betaing for me! she writes great fics too of course (if you didn’t know) so make sure to check her out as well!! <3

[mage-cat]

Unbubbled, Chapter 2

This chapter would have been a lot easier to write if I didn’t think making it very clear some of the things Bismuth does and does not know going forward was so important. It also would have been easier if it didn’t feel like the world was falling down around our ears just now, too. Anyone who’s read any of my Steven Universe fic will be utterly unsurprised that there’s Amedot in my Bispearl story. I hope you enjoy them as an established couple

Chapter under the cut.

Chapter 1 here.

AO3 link here.

After a while, Garnet declared that she and Pearl had to leave on a mission, the remaining Crystal Gems staying behind at the temple. Amethyst said she was going for a walk, Peridot quickly stated an insistence on joining her, and Steven and Bismuth were invited along. Steven quickly agreed and went to grab his ukulele while Bismuth stared at the congealing brown ring at the bottom of her mug until Amethyst waved a hand through her field of vision.

“Come on,” she cajoled. “We can fill you in more on how things work around here now, and you can pay us back with stories about what Garnet and Pearl were like before they started trying to be good examples.”

“I'm not sure this is a day for telling war stories.” Bismuth's smile was returning, if looking a little tired.

“So no fighting stories. I know it wasn't all battles all the time.”

“We'll see what I come up with while we're walking.”

Peridot spoke up as they walked down the stairs. “I may need to apologize for a part in why you weren't unbubbled sooner.”

“Why's that?”

“Garnet was waiting for me to reform, under the understanding that you were unlikely to trust what I had to say while I was still wearing my old Diamond emblems. She didn't actually tell me that until afterward, but even if she had, it is unlikely that I would have volunteered to have my form forcibly dismissed to hurry the process along.”

“Well, I can't really argue with Future Vision, and I've seen what it takes to get a Peridot to poof. I wouldn't want to put myself through that either. Why did you switch sides anyway? I always love hearing those stories.”

Reaching the foot of the stairs, Steven steered the group in the opposite direction from where Biggs had momentarily been that morning.

“The Crystal Gems' attempts to thwart my original mission, while not being sure what that mission was, succeeded in leaving me stranded on this planet with no means of escape or communication while knowing that the whole place was a time bomb about to go off. By the time of my capture, I was desperate enough to work with them. There were many things I was willing to do for Yellow Diamond back then, but dying was not one of them.” Bismuth's smile was looking less tired now, turning into an approving smirk as Peridot continued. She had seen plenty of Gems who did not draw the line at dying for their Diamond.

“Around the time we completed the drill to reach the Cluster, I managed to acquire a Direct Diamond Line. I thought that, if I presented Yellow Diamond with some theories I had developed about how to extract resources from this planet without harming the biosphere, she would spare Earth.” A pained look crossed her face. “She wouldn't. She said she wanted the planet gone, that she didn't care about resources or potential. She's supposed to care. What's the point of a Diamond that doesn't care about the well-being of the Empire or the Gems created to serve her?” Peridot shrugged. “So I called her a clod, cut the connection, and she remote detonated the communicator. I am most definitely not welcome back even if I wanted to go, which I don't.” She held her hand up to her face, almost as if inspecting it. “I'm done with being lied to.”

“You called Yellow Diamond a clod? To her face?” Bismuth barked out a laugh. “I wish I could have seen that!”

“It was pretty impressive,” Amethyst said as she nudged Peridot's shoulder with her own. “Even if she did curl up into a ball right after and stay that way for a few hours.”

“So what's your story Deep Cut?”

It was Amethyst's turn to shrug. “There's not much of one. I was the last Gem to come out of the Prime Kindergarten. Five hundred years after everyone else with the war already over. That's why, you know...” Amethyst pressed the flat of her hand against the top of her head, emphasizing her lack her height. “Which I gotta say beats my alternatives. Still, it was just me and a bunch of lifeless rocks for who knows how long until Rose found me. I guess you could say I've been a Crystal Gem as long as I've been anything.”

“Now that is amazing. I always wondered what a Gem would be like who never heard all that upper crust nonsense about her proper place. You fight pretty good for someone who wasn't in the war. Who trained you? Ruby?”

Amethyst laughed. “Good one! Like Garnet was going to unfuse often enough for her to train me. I got some training from Rose. More from Pearl until we both got fed up with each other over it. Mostly I work from instinct. That's enough to get by when it comes to monsters at least. Now that we're looking at facing down soldiers again, sparing with this guy is really helping.” She jerked a thumb towards Steven, who added, “Pearl's done pretty much all my training, but fighting with Amethyst is fun!”

“But, ya know, as far as what a Gem's like without Homeworld influence, it mostly just means I ended up with different damage.”

Peridot linked one arm around Amethyst's, leaning into her. “Well I think you came out great. Especially for a first test case. The problems stem more from the neuroses of the Gems raising you then anything else.”

“Thanks, Per-bear, but you're biased.”

“I would not have formed my bias in the first place if I had not first logically concluded that you were an extraordinary individual.”

That got a small laugh. “You are such a nerd.”

“Yes, but that's what you love about me.”

“True,” Amethyst said as she leaned over to blow a raspberry into Peridot's cheek. After a moment of giggling they remembered that they had an audience, and Amethyst looked over saying, “Okay. Show's over.”

“Oh,” Steven said, “are we going to be seeing Fluorite soon?”

Peridot and Amethyst glanced at each other before Peridot answered, “Not today.”

“Yeah,” Amethyst added, “there's filling Bismuth in, and then there's introducing her to walking information overload.”

“Once Fluorite starts talking it's hard for her to stop,” Peridot explained to Bismuth.

“And she'll say whatever she's thinking, which could be, like, everything,” added Amethyst.

“She's like the Anti-Garnet!” Steven exclaimed. “Wait, that makes her sound evil.” He looked like he was trying to think of a better way to phrase it. Peridot broke his train of thought, saying it really was accurate enough.

“So, Peridot,” Bismuth said, “outside from fusion, have you been learning to fight, or are you sticking with a support role? There's always stuff to build, but what's the point of rebelling if you just keep doing the things you did before?”

“Mostly I've been working on getting my metal powers under proper control. With them I can occupy a ranged attack role that the team has been lacking up until this point.”

“Wait,” Bismuth stopped short to look at Peridot more carefully. “Getting them under control? How had you been working without having done that already? You can't be that new if they were sending you out on solo missions.”

Peridot scrambled up a nearby rock and sat on it. “It's an Era 2 thing. The story is that Homeworld is experiencing a resource shortage and Gems cannot be produced to the old standards, mostly characterized by lack of powers. For Peridots, this is counterbalanced with technology that is worn at all times. Arm Enhancers come equipped with tractor beams, which fill in for the missing metal control and then some, along with database access. I even configured mine to have a blaster function. I was a pretty fair shot.”

Amethyst chimed in, “Then there was the electrical feedback you shocked me with that time.”

“And a few other functions that led to the Enhancers being clunky enough that, to prevent them from dragging the ground, Leg Extenders were also required. After I was captured and they were…” she seemed to side-eye Amethyst, “discarded, it took me some time to even adjust to being this size. It didn't help that my mass was still distributed in anticipation of carrying the weight of the Enhancers. I overbalanced a lot. I really hope I'm going to fall on my face much less now.” At a gesture from the green Gem, a discarded soda can floated up to her shoulder height and began to move in lazy figure eights.

“Anyway,” she continued, “if what I had been told was completely true, I wouldn't be able to do this at all.” The can flew in a quick series of loops before coming to a still-floating halt. “I'm sure there really is some resource shortage, losing this colony did hurt Homeworld, but, as to how much it actually affected my potential...” She shrugged, the can raising and falling an inch or so with the motion. “If I ever figure out shape-shifting or weapon summoning, I won't be as shocked as I was the first time I moved metal.”

Bismuth looked slightly stunned, “I think that might actually be more twisted than the whole Corruption thing. I mean, how long have they been keeping that up?”

“Longer than I've been around. Which means more than 3000 years. And don't forget I was a Kindergartener. Lying to me means that they are mucking with the technical manuals regarding Gem formation. The more you think about it, the worse it gets.”

Bismuth looked down to where Steven and Amethyst were standing. “Remind me why shattering the Diamonds is a bad idea again.”

“Because desperate Diamonds are more dangerous than we can handle,” Amethyst answered.

“And it would be wrong,” added Steven.

The smith gave a half-nod of assent before turning back to Peridot. “Anyway, if you're sticking to that training regimen, could I make you some better ammunition? What have you been using?”

“I would actually appreciate that. This planet has plenty of scrap metal I can use, but I know there would be benefits to something more uniform. My skill with raw materials lags well behind my engineering abilities.”

Amethyst climbed up the rock to sit next to her. “I'm glad to have you watching my back, and to know that if we need an attack with more range that my whip and more punch than Pearl's laser blasts, we don't have to rely on Opal.” She rolled her eyes toward Bismuth. “Miss Pearl-fect and I don't always get along well enough to fuse, even if an archer would help.”

“I guess with so few of us, fusion is a more important tactic than ever, huh?”

“I guess. I don't really know how important it was during the war so I can't compare. You ever fuse with Pearl or Garnet?”

“I... uh,” Bismuth's mind stumbled over the memory. “Yeah, a couple of times. With Pearl. Never quite worked out with Garnet.”

Steven had pulled up a seat on one of the smaller rocks and begun tuning his ukulele. Bismuth took the hint and settled in, using Peridot and Amethyst's perch as a backrest. They passed a few hours that way, swapping stories. Peridot related the epic tale of scavenging materials for some attack drones she had made. Bismuth talked about how hard Pearl had been on her swords before Bismuth had perfected the design for them. Amethyst described her involvement in the local wrestling league, and the fight she and Steven had had with Garnet and Pearl over allowing her to continue. Bismuth learned a round that Steven had written and Amethyst and Peridot already knew. In the end, the three younger Crystal Gems did more of the talking than Bismuth did. She was more than willing to tell stories about Garnet and Pearl, but too many stories included the shattered and the corrupted. On another day, she might be able to tell those, but the pain was still too fresh.

The sun was just starting to tint the western sky a faint orange when Peridot said she would have to leave soon. “I told Lapis I would be back before dark. She's more stable than she used to be, but I still don't like leaving her alone for too long.”

“Lapis Lazuli?” The name conjured up some less pleasant memories, but mostly Bismuth wondered why they hadn't mentioned another Gem around. After all, what were the odds that they were talking about the same Lapis she was thinking of?

“A Homeworld loyalist who was mistaken for a Crystal Gem during the war and put in a mirror for interrogation. She was abandoned and cracked while still in it during the final evacuation,” Peridot explained as she descended from the rock and headed towards the Temple and its warp pad. The rest of the group went with her.

“I got her out and healed her,” Steven chimed in.

“Yeah, but between one and the other, she stole the ocean for a while,” Amethyst said, “because being so cracked your mind is too scrambled to be corrupted means you're willing to try out some really bad ideas.”

“She went back to Homeworld after,” Steven continued, “and sent us a message that Peridot was coming back with reinforcements after her scouting missions where we first saw her. If it wasn't for Lapis, we wouldn't have been ready at all.”

“'Reinforcements' makes it sound much more dire than one ship with me, Jasper as an escort, and Lapis as an unwilling informant. Anyway, that day ended with me on the run and Lapis holding Jasper captive in a fusion. It's rather amazing how long it was before Malachite split, longer than I managed to stay one step ahead of the team. That's when things got complicated. Jasper's bubbled now. I'm working on getting Lapis to convert. She's warmed up to me and would do just about anything for Steven, but she's civil at best to Pearl and Garnet.”

Amethyst said, “And she doesn't seem to mind me hanging around the barn. Of course, it probably helps that I usually bring books and interesting junk for her and Peri to use for art projects.”

“You've been doing art?” Bismuth asked Peridot, honestly curious.

“Apparently the exact human term for it is 'conceptual sculpture.' I still like the word Lapis came on for it, 'meep-morp.' Anyway, once the drill project had fulfilled its purpose, I found making things without concern for utility very freeing. Also, I find that creative endeavors aid in emotional processing, and everything I've found out since coming to Earth has given me a lot to process. Oh, do you want these,” she said referring to the now four cans she had floating beside her. “They're aluminum, very pure aside from the added pigment.”

“Humans figured out aluminum extraction? I'm impressed. That's tricky work on this planet.” Bismuth considered the offer. “You keep them for now. I'm going to do an inventory at the Forge.”

Once Peridot had used the warp pad to reach a point nearer her destination, Bismuth moved to do the same. Amethyst asked, “Are you really gonna leave right now?”

“Yeah, Pearl and Garnet aren't even back yet,” said Steven.

“Unless you need me for something. I've got an inventory to do and things to think about.” She stepped onto the pad. “You all know where to find me.”

Chapter 3 >

[itsclydebitches]

Summary:

“He likes this song.”

“How can you possibly know that?”

In which Cisco is given seven months to fall in love with Barry Allen. It’s admittedly a little weird - what with Barry being unconscious and all - but since when was anything normal nowadays?

Fandom: The Flash (TV show)

Words: Through Chapter Three: 8,213 (will be around 12k total)

Warnings: None

Pairings: Barry/Cisco

Where to Read it: Below the cut or on AO3 (AO3 recommended for formatting) 

~~~

Worth the Wait: Chapter Three

Could you know someone you’d never spoken to? Really get them based purely on their presence and a public profile? Cisco was starting to wonder.

It was freaking him out just a bit. Because the longer Barry just lay there the longer Cisco searched for him online, and the more he searched the more he felt like they’d known each other for years. Barry posted update statuses filled with enough science jargon that all his friends sent exasperated emojis and his former teachers liked the posts with pride. There were silly Vine attempts and one memorable home video, basically laying out for the world that Barry Allen would never be an actor. Barry posted more selfies than the stereotypical teenage girl (all of them stunning), wept about his food, glorified his job (which he didn’t need, he was a goddamn hero in Cisco’s eyes), comforted anyone about anything, sent heartfelt messages on everyone’s birthday, and accompanied those tear-jerkers with presents—despite his slightly iffy bank account.

He was like a ray of sunlight personified.

Cisco knew, intellectually, that a digital footprint was just one small part of a person’s whole. That they were never truly what they posted online. That, really, Barry couldn’t be this sunny, smart, gracious, and heroic in real life. Constructs like this just didn’t exist.

Except then he’d look over at the guy’s still form and think, maybe.

What cinched it for him was another real life person suddenly appearing in, what had become, his otherwise digitalized world. Cisco came into the Lab Thursday morning with bedhead and a packet of chocolate donuts, thinking about how he wanted to test the Suit’s resistance to acid and read more about whether coma patients experienced smell as well as sound. Cisco was lost enough in his thoughts that he nearly ran into Caitlin as she rounded the corner out of the Cortex. They exchanged a silent, rapid-fire conversation—Donut? No, already ate. You okay? Yeah. Sure? There’s a Thing. A Thing??—and Cisco was still trying to decipher what kind of a Thing that hand gesture meant when he spotted the woman sitting at Barry’s bedside.

Oh. That kind of a Thing.

Cisco recognized her. He’d seen her name on the Labs’ entrance logs a few times before and he had vague memories of her standing on the periphery of the action the day they’d moved Barry here. Mostly Cisco knew her from Barry’s pictures though. She was in nearly all of them.

“Hi, Iris,” he said and she turned to smile at him, the both of them totally ignoring the fact that they’d never technically met before. That was refreshing.

“Hey, Cisco.”

“Donut?”

“God yes. Chai latte?”

“Not worried about my cooties?”

“Nah. Go for it.”

She passed over her drink and he set the box on Barry’s blankets, kind of liking how some of the sprinkles spilled over. It gave him a less sterile look. Like a dude who’d actually been munching rather than just...lying there.

The chai was spicy on Cisco’s tongue. He could see the smears of Iris’ lipstick around the cup’s edge.

It was kind of amazing how put together she looked in the face of this ongoing tragedy, and Cisco had to give her points for style. He had his own sort of look going on, sure, but he also know that if his bestie/brother got struck by freaking lightning and refused to wake up he’d be sporting nothing but comfort PJs and tear stains. Cisco tried uselessly to untangle his hair.

“He loves these, you know,” Iris said, holding up one of the donuts. She tilted it so Barry could see. “He always eats the icing first though, scooping it off like—” she demonstrated, scattering more crumbs across the bed.

Cisco pulled a face. “Okay. That’s wrong.”

“Right? You need to see him eat a cupcake. He pulls it apart and like, makes a sandwich out of it. Or nachos! Jesus, he’s always complaining about not getting all the toppings in one bite. I told him to just lift, but he claims the weight is too much for a single chip, and... ”

Iris trailed off, shaking her head. Maybe she was thinking about the implications: that hopefully someday Cisco would get to see Barry and his ridiculous eating habits.

“Food is priority #1,” Cisco said. “He’s a guy after my own heart.”

As soon as he said it Cisco ducked his head, realizing the implications of that, but Iris didn’t even bat an eye.

She just took another donut.Cisco let her.

“You know I’ve started talking to him,” he shared after a few moments of silence. Iris’ smile begged him to continue. “Uh huh. I must look like a real nut on all the security footage. But I read that coma patients can, you know, hear and stuff. Sometimes. So I figured why not? Might as well give Barry something to focus on other than this insistent beeping.” It actually wasn’t even that bad--Caitlin had removed most of the equipment on the third day, growling that it wasn’t doing enough for Barry anyway—but the point remained the same.

Iris snatched her drink back. “What do you talk about?”

“Oh, you know... stuff. Gossip mostly. I complain a lot. Just... things.”

Iris was still smiling. “He likes movies,” she said. “Put Star Wars on sometime.”

“...right.” Cisco very much didn’t voice that the Star Wars franchise was his be-all and end-all fave.

Iris stood then, reaching over to smooth the hair out of Barry’s face. “You gotta wake up,” she whispered and Cisco had to turn away, recognizing the private moment. He didn’t comment on how long it took her to speak again, or the thick quality of Iris’ voice when she did.

Cisco did clasp her arm though as she took up her purse. “Work,” she explained. “I’ll come back tonight?”

“I’m sure not stopping you.” Cisco spread his arms in a welcoming gesture.

Iris seemed to consider him then. One of those cataloguing looks that made Cisco wish he’d actually used a comb this morning. Or worn something other than his Homestuck t-shirt. Whatever Iris found though didn’t seem to be too bad.

“He’ll like you,” she said and it felt like a promise.

Cisco nodded, slowly. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. He definitely will.”

They both appreciated the future tense.

Iris left him then with too many thoughts and just the right amount of donuts. Cisco sighed, taking the place she’d vacated (no, it wasn’t his spot, no matter what Caitlin was starting to say) and booted up his laptop, enjoying this new routine.

Cisco pulled up Chrome in one window and a stream of A New Hope in the other. He wafted a donut under Barry’s nose as the story’s scroll began.

“Smell that, dude? Glazed glory, right here. Gonna wake up for it?”

Barry breathed even and deep. His eyes moved briefly beneath his lids. That was all.

“Your loss.”

Cisco was nothing if not gracious though. He patted Barry’s knee while taking a massive bite.

“I’ll buy you more when you do get your lazy ass out of bed,” he garbled. “Promise.”

***

Taking care of a coma patient was, sadly, not all movies and one-sided conversations. Cisco was endlessly glad that Barry gave them all something to focus on (Caitlin in particular, gushing daily now about the ever growing changes in Barry’s DNA. “It’s fascinating, Cisco!” “Uh huh. Sure, Spock.”) but there were some things that just shouldn’t have been a part of the job. Or at least, not part of Cisco’s job.

He so didn’t sign up for this when he applied to STAR Labs.

“You want me to what now?”

Dr. Wells gave him a Look. It was the particular one that was a combination of “I expected more of you” and “please leave your immaturity outside of my facility.” The last time Cisco had gotten the Look he’d accidentally set Level 8’s workroom on fire trying to create goggles that replicated heat vision.

Emphasis on ‘accidentally.’

“I have a meeting with Larson—yes, yes, of rheology fame.” Dr. Wells shook his head. “Please wipe that look off your face, Dr. Snow. She’s not nearly as impressive in person as her autobiography suggests.”

“You read her autobiography?” Caitlin teased, but she did school her features. Dr. Wells waved her off like an errant fly.

“Look, I would honestly like nothing better than to skip this lunch and remain here, but Larson is insistent that we discuss the work our two labs were conducting prior to the explosion. I have… admittedly been putting it off.” Dr. Wells took of his glasses to rub at his eyes. Cisco felt a pang. “I fear you’re the only one available for this shift.”

Cisco looked imploringly at Caitlin.

“Grandpa’s birthday,” she said, apologetic. “It’s literally the one family gathering I can’t miss.”

“Joe?” Cisco suggested, remembering the strong, fatherly man who had accompanied Iris on numerous visits.

“Working.”

“Iris?”

“Also working.”

“And look who else is in his place of employment, on the clock no less,” Dr. Wells gave him another pointed look.

Cisco felt something like panic inching its way up his throat. “And this can’t wait?”

“Don’t be cruel. You’ll be fine,” and with that utterly useless bit of confidence they just abandoned him, like two totally awful, abandoning people.

“I will have my revenge,” Cisco whispered, because really, he was not cut out for this.

Clipping toe and fingernails was one thing. Swapping out full catheter bags was ew, gross, but doable. Turning the guy to avoid bed soars was a piece of cake. But sponge baths?

Cisco looked at Barry. Barry (he imagined) was looking back, with his eyes closed. Judging. Cisco thought about how he’d feel if he was stuck in bed for months without access to a shower.

He shivered. Fine.

Getting the supplies took longer than he’d anticipated, though it gave Cisco time to calm down a bit and, as Caitlin might say, stop being such a big baby about it. He got two tubs of water ready—one for washing, one for rinsing—and made sure that the bath water was nice and hot. It wasn’t like the Cortex was freezing, but who the hell wanted a lukewarm bath?

Easy to wash away soap. Baby shampoo that smelled liked lavenders. Lots of washcloths; even more towels. It took Cisco ten goddamn minutes to find the special basin for washing hair because who the hell had put it with the old microscopes?

By the time he was ready the bath water was no longer scalding and Cisco’s heart wasn’t a freaking jackrabbit anymore. Progress.

“I hope you know,” he intoned, “that this completely solidifies our friendship. I expect best man-level status when you wake up, dude. Got it?”

Barry breathed.

“Damn straight. C’mon now...”

He’d moved Barry before, and despite the muscle developing he was still surprisingly light. Cisco got him on his side pretty easily and slid a couple of towels underneath, really not wanting to change the sheets yet if he could help it. Barry had been going shirtless most of the time anyway, so all he really had to do clothes-wise was tug the pajama pants carefully off his legs.

Cisco definitely did not look at the toned thighs as he did.

“Don’t be a perv about this,” he muttered. “Do not be a perv...”

And for the most part he wasn’t, because he was an adult, and a decent person, okay? Cisco had always viewed his nerd status as at least preferable to the Nice Guy douches, and he was perfectly capable of separating romantic situations from professional ones.

This was definitely the latter.

Even if Barry did have the most fantastic abs. Ever.

Cisco clucked, soaping up a washcloth to run over Barry’s arms and chest. “I should really hate you, you know? I should be jealous here, Mr. Lays in Bed All Day and Somehow Gets Buff. But I am the bigger man here. Even if you’re a freaking giraffe. I’m still bigger. Metaphorically. Okay?”

Talking to Barry had gotten easy over the last few weeks. It was sort of worrying Cisco a bit. He didn’t know if the guy was that good a conversationalist even while comatose, or if he was just that lonely (ha). But sometime between not startling every time he caught sight of the new edition and donuts with Iris, Cisco had let his talking get a little more... personal. Less Jitters gossip and more family drama. Then less family drama and more, ‘Hey, could we actually be buds when you finally decide to wake up?’

Part of Cisco was terrified that Barry would remember all this someday. Another part worried that he wouldn’t be nearly as cool in real life as he was on paper.

The realistic part said he would, but would also 100% not give a shit about Cisco.

“And why should you, man?” he said, carefully going over Barry’s stomach, then his back. “I mean, we just sort of got landed with you. Not that I’m complaining. But it means you got landed with us too. You didn’t ask to get struck by lightning, or delve into an extended nap, or become Dr. Wells’ charity case. You’ve got every right to ditch our asses once you’re up and about.” Cisco regarded the soapy washcloth. “Not gonna hang with your nurse, right? How lame is that.”

He was nearly done with Barry’s upper body now. “But... if you did want to hang...well. I’d be cool with that. Just so you know.”

Cisco stopped. Shook his head. He spent another ten minutes changing the water.

He paused again before removing the blankets around Barry’s legs. “Don’t make this weird,” he admonished.

In the list of things Cisco had planned and expected to do with his life, cleaning another man’s genitals wasn’t anywhere on the list. Outside of sexy-shower fantasies at least. He really shouldn’t have worried though. Barry might have been gorgeous, but there wasn’t anything sexy about a non-consenting partner that made you think more about necrophilia than second dates.

It didn’t stop Cisco from taking his time though. He didn’t like what he was doing—it wasn’t what he was starting to want it to be—but he’d sure as hell do it right.

“There,” he announced, patting Barry dry and pulling the blankets back up. “I’ve saved the best for last. Can’t promise not to get soap in your eyes though.”

It was sort of soothing, washing someone else’s hair. Cisco liked the texture of it beneath his fingers and he tried to get all fancy, like the women did in salons with their massages. He wondered if Barry was in there somewhere, appreciating it. He hoped so.

Cisco found himself smiling as he made little tufts of his hair stick up. “Aww. Look at you. Take note: you would make an excellent penguin. Feels good, huh?”

Barry drew in a slightly longer breath—

—and promptly began seizing.

“Holy—!”

Cisco stumbled back, knocking the basin as he went and sending water everywhere. The motion knocked Barry’s head as well, causing it to loll as the rest of his body jerked horrendously. The blanket he’d so carefully tucked in slipped off to the side. Bits of soap began decorating Cisco’s shirt.

He just stood there, useless.

It was Barry’s right arm flying off the bed (limp, pale like a dead fish) that finally sent him into motion. Cisco’s first instinct was to throw himself atop Barry and stop that godawful movement, but a vague, oddly calm voice in the back of his mind reminded him that you didn’t do that. No. That was bad. But what did you do instead?

“Dr. Wells!”

That’s what he did. He got help; got his mentor. Cisco scrambled over to the Lab’s sound system and slammed his hand over the button with enough force to leave an outline on his palm. “Dr. Wells get up here!” He must have shouted it more than he’d thought, because by the time Cisco remembered that Dr. Wells had left his voice was feeling terribly raw.

Dr. Wells was gone. He was out, for the first time in ages. Because of course this happens. Cisco pulled at his hair, trying to get his useless brain to function for two goddamn seconds. He couldn’t call Dr. Wells. He didn’t know his number. The three of them had practically been living together for four months and he didn’t know the man’s goddamn cell number.

“Oh my god, oh fuck—fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck—”

Cisco whirled on the monitors, trying to get all his training in engineering to somehow translate into medical knowledge. He was halfway through a muddled translation of the meds Caitlin had been feeding into Barry this week when one piece of equipment finally made sense.

The steady beat of Barry’s heart—a sound that had become a necessary part of Cisco’s world—suddenly stopped. Rapid beeps became a long whine that sounded like a scream.

“No,” Cisco whispered.

In the same moment he thought, Call Caitlin.

Because he did have her number. They’d swapped months ago. He was her emergency contact, now that Ronnie was gone.

Barry’s not Ronnie, Cisco insisted and dove for his cell. He had it ringing while he grabbed for his Macbook too, screaming as Siri to find him tutorials on CPR.

“Why the fuck didn’t I take that summer class?” Cisco shrieked, trying to get the bed to go flat.

“Why didn’t you what?”

And there it was, Caitlin’s voice, a godsend that cut straight through Cisco’s panic. Even so, he couldn’t recall exactly what he said to her then, only that his breathy ramblings seemed to make some sort of sense, because he was able to toss Siri aside (useless) and follow Caitlin’s instructions instead. He had the phone wedged between his ear and shoulder, Barry’s heart directly beneath his hands.

Cisco spotted a drop of water. It might have been from the bath. It was probably because he was crying.

“It’s not—he’s not—” he kept gulping, feeling like he was about to pass out. There were actual spots in Cisco’s vision when he was suddenly wrenched off the bed, hard enough that he fell straight onto his ass.

Caitlin was here, impossibly. She looked calm and doctor-y and Cisco sucked in a massive breath.

“How?” he managed and she said something about her and her mother getting into a fight. She’d come back here and, oh Jesus, Cisco was so glad she had.

The relief was sort lived though. Barry was still coding.

Which made Caitlin’s next action all the more shocking. She just...stopped. She even stepped back, regarding Barry while every machine attached to him screamed that he was dying.

“What are you doing?” Cisco hissed.

Caitlin looked up. Her expression was awe. It was the first and only time Cisco had seen the true definition of the word: reverence mixed with fear.

“He heart hasn’t stopped,” she whispered. “It’s... tachycardia. It’s beating so fast the machine can’t pick it up.”

Barry stopped.

Instantly. Like the conclusion of a puzzle when you’d finally found the answer, he just stopped. From 60 back to 0 they had their sleepy, peaceful looking guy again.

The monitor began a steady rhythm. Beep, beep, beep.

“God,” Cisco said. Still on the floor he crawled the last few inches to the bed, heedless of how soaked his jeans were getting. He reached up and took Barry’s hand in his. Unbidden, Caitlin did the same.

That’s how Dr. Wells found them twenty minutes later—still wet, still holding onto Barry. Caitlin told him in a shell-shocked voice about the impossible heart rate; how the ‘seizing’ Cisco had seen was actually vibration, Barry’s body moving at a frequency she just couldn’t explain. When Dr. Wells reached them Cisco expected a thorough questioning on this phenomenon. He expected the scientist.

Instead Dr. Wells raised a hand of his own. He hesitated only a moment before laying it on Barry’s arm.

“But he’s okay?” he asked. Dr. Wells raised his gaze, taking in the three of them at once. “You’re okay?”

“Mmm hmm,” Caitlin agreed, a little watery. Cisco nodded.

“Good... good. Let’s get this place cleaned up.”

It was while Dr. Wells was bundling Barry’s soaked sheets that Cisco stopped him, daring to lay his on hand on his mentor’s shoulder. When Dr. Wells didn't brush him off—didn’t even flinch—Cisco mustered up a smile.

“Hey. So I really need your number.”