#was having a chat with an older gay guy at work once and mentioned that my feminine presentation means I seldom get 'clocked'

[marzipanandminutiae]

the serotonin of a Queer Elder calling you “family” is unmatched in this world

[macclownn]

having visions again. blessed.

benson goes to prison (my fave au) and randy doesn't visit. he thinks about it, A LOT, but he's scared. scared of what benson thinks of him now, if he's mad, sad. keeps remembering the look on benson's face when he told him he'd called the cops.

he goes to college, makes friends, only calls his mom once a week now maybe. she still texts a lot.

he has a girlfriend for a while, no longer a virgin. hooks up with a girl after, just for fun. then a guy. several guys. too many of them look like benson, or act like benson. mullets and kinda mean and rough hands and "good boy".

after graduation he makes his way back home, has to for a while as much as he doesn't really want to. he doesn't want to fall back on old habits.

he does. of course he does.

his mom cooks for him, but he helps now. still looks after his sister too often, but she's older now too, it's not bad. he reconnects with lisa, she never really left town. they hang out, he stays the night sometimes. he works at a store for a while, maybe even a bar. he drives past what used to be burgers burgers burgers on his way to his shift. it's empty now. he goes to see miss beard, still babysits tessa every now and again. he drives past the school on the way.

he sees benson everywhere, in all of these places. listens to the music he played, wears his jacket.

it takes another year or so before he goes to visit. it's a whole deal, and he's sure benson knows he's asked to visit. but he goes, drives all the way there, sits and waits.

he holds his breath the whole time, sees families and friends of inamtes to each side of him, chatting or crying. he's not as nervous now, in general, but he's feeling something.

then they start walking in, and there's benson. his hair is cropped shorter, he's bigger physically, but in the jumpsuit, in this big place, he doesn't look it.

he still looks at randy the same, intense and deep and like he's just waiting, seeing him.

he doesn't know what to say, how to start. a quiet "hey, benson".

they talk, benson asks a lot of questions, how he's doing, if he's working, about college and girlfriends and his mom.

it gets easier, the more times he goes. eventually they're more relaxed, sort of friends, friendly. randy smiles more when he's there, benson even makes him laugh, a ridiculous, loud laugh, and when he stops benson is looking at him with this little smile. like they're ok.

he mentions one day, without thinking, that he's talking to this guy. and benson smirks and says "thought you weren't gay?" and it's funny. but. not really. it makes him a little embarrassed and he's not really sure what to say.

he does a lot of thinking when he leaves that day, goes home and lies in bed and maybe talks to the guy he's been talking to. about this sort-of thing he has with a friend. doesn't say too much.

he. maybe has a little thing. for benson. i mean, who actively looks for guys with mullets and pornstaches? him. not actively, maybe, but he notices now how often it's happened.

thinks about how he likes, even with girls now, to get shoved around a little. it's never more than a tug on his hair or a hand around his wrist, but that's mainly because he's always been too scared to ask for more.

he doesn't see benson for a couple of months. tries to... something. doesn't know whether he's supposed to get over it or accept it.

he hooks up with the guy he'd been talking to, for the first time asks someone to be a little rougher with him. they talk after. he's a nice guy actually. great. he's... not what he's looking for. but he thinks they weirdly make good friends.

he accepts it, in the end. can't deny it.

he goes to see benson and it's... it's weird all over again. but he can't help it, looks at benson, looks across his shoulders when he walks in, down his legs as he gets closer, at his arms when he sits.

benson comments on his absence, "you get bored of me, randy?" and he... he shakes his head. "no," quiet.

nothing can happen, benson is never getting out and the whole reason he's in here is because he wanted randy to LIVE. so he does, he lives.

but he goes to visit, when he can. smiles at benson smiling at him.

[fruitcoops]

Accidental Family

Hey folks! This is one of two fics for the six month celebration of this blog! Woohoo! Blood on the Ice is one of the most popular series I've written, and expanding it into Josie’s (@prohibitionincurls ) Winging It world with her was unbelievably fun. Disclaimer: one of the OCs has ADHD and it is a central theme of the story--while Josie based some of his characteristics on her own experience, we both recognize that this is not a one-size-fits-all situation. Thank you again for six amazing months, and I hope you enjoy!

Lots of love,

Eve <3

TW for mentioned injury

“Oh my god, they’re gonna kill me,” the kid whispered in a wavering voice, sounding much younger than he actually was as he left the penalty box.

“They’re not going to kill you,” Bowie soothed, still watching the tunnel where Remus had disappeared mere minutes earlier. From what he saw, there had been a bit of blood, but the bruising didn’t look too bad. Then again, there had barely been enough time for anything to visibly swell before he was whisked away.

“Can I just stay in the box?” Felix cast a look toward the Lions bench and his voice cracked. “They can’t yell at me in the box, right?”

“Hey. Look at me, Marty.” Bowie took him by the shoulders and gave him a gentle shake. “The Lions are good guys. They’re not going to hurt you, but you did just fuck up one of their best friends. What would you do if someone hit me in the face?”

“Come on, man, I’m a terrible fighter. I don’t know how well I’d be able to defend your honor after something like that. It was an accident. Do you think they know it was an accident? Should I go tell them?”

“I know. They know. Loops definitely knows. But that doesn’t mean it didn’t happen, so I wouldn’t be surprised if they’re a little cold at first.” He ruffled the rookie’s hair and turned back to the game; the Lions were moving fast and brutal, slicing right through their defense for yet another goal. Shit. Felix clearly felt bad enough already--losing the game wouldn’t make him feel any better. 

They ended up losing the game.

Bowie had figured it might happen; he would have had the same fire if it had been his teammate that got clocked like that. Hell, he used to have the same fire when he and Remus had played together, so he completely understood. 

That did not change the fact that once they got home, Felix was still borderline inconsolable. The 18-year-old wasn’t technically billeting with them, but the apartment he was renting just so happened to be in the same building, on the same floor, and right across the hall from his and Simon’s. This led to an informal adoption of the rookie and he was around their house at least five times a week, if not more. 

Felix Martin was a good kid, and that idea was confirmed when Kronk immediately took a liking to him; the cat loved nobody but the three of them. Bowie was grateful that he and Simon were there to quell some of the homesickness that came from moving out to a new city on his own for the first time. The transition was always tough, but they could provide a little support.

They parted ways from the team when the bus got back from the rink and drove to their building in silence. Once they made their way up the stairs and down the hall, Felix moved to go back to his apartment. 

“Nope,” Bowie said immediately, placing a hand on his shoulder and steering him through the door to his and Simon’s place. It wasn’t a good idea for Felix to be alone right now--there was nothing to do alone after a loss aside from beat himself up about it, and Bowie would be damned before he let that happen. 

Simon and Kronk were perched on the couch, but they both moved into the kitchen as soon as the door clicked closed. Simon took one look at the pair and carefully wrapped his arms around Felix; the kid practically melted. The three of them stood there for a moment until Simon pulled back a bit and tilted his head toward the living room. Felix nodded and Bowie followed the two, sharing the couch with Simon while the rookie curled up in the large armchair diagonal to them. 

He...well, if Bowie was being honest, Felix looked like hell. He chewed his lower lip like an anxious beaver and fiddled with the loose threads of the closest armrest; everything about him screamed discomfort. Bowie caught Simon’s worried glance in his periphery and let out a slow breath, trying to relieve at least a little of the tension in the room.

“You don’t have to relive it if you don’t want to. I saw the game. But if you want to talk about it…” Simon trailed off with a significant look.

Felix sighed and his shoulders caved in a bit. “It was just one of those moments. All of a sudden, I didn’t really have a grasp on what was going on, which feels like shit because I’ve been doing pretty well so far. I dunno. It was just...bad.” 

That was it. Bowie knew Felix had seemed a little off. When Felix mentioned he had ADHD at the start of the season during one of their ‘getting to know your neighbor’ chats, Bowie hadn’t thought much of it. But as they grew closer, he began to notice when Felix forgot to eat or drink, or got overwhelmingly excited about something, or when he suddenly spaced out. It wasn’t just Felix being Felix.

The whole team stepped up and became intensely protective, of course. They not only helped him remember meal times, but also scheduling, directions, and everything in between. Bowie felt especially responsible for reasons he didn’t entirely understand--there was just something about the kid’s sweet heart that struck a chord.

He also knew that Felix was highly emotionally intelligent, but had no concept of whether people liked him or not. He was someone who assumed the worst, all the time. So, Bowie decided to do the only thing he knew would work: after a few more beats of uncomfortable silence, he pulled his phone out, tapped a few buttons, and pressed ‘call’.

“Hey, Remus, are you alive?” 

An amused snort came from the speaker even as Felix blanched. “Hello to you, too, Bowie. Jeez, you’re worse than Sirius.  I’m one hundred percent alive, just a little swollen. Your rookie’s got a helluva shot, but maybe tell the kid to hit the puck and not my face next time.” 

Felix flushed red and put his face between his knees, though hearing the laughter in Remus’s voice and knowing that he was okay clearly took some of the weight off his shoulders. Bowie whooped internally and shot him a quick, reassuring smile.

“Yeah, the kid’s got spirit, but he’s also got ADHD. He’s great most of the time, but sometimes under extreme pressure he can’t figure out where the fuck he--or anything else around him--is. Something about focusing or neurons firing the wrong way, maybe? Either way, it’s why he’s a terrible fuckin’ driver.”

Felix flopped back against the chair with a groan. “How the hell am I supposed to know how far away the cars around me are based on the mirrors? And how am I supposed to park?!” 

Remus’s laugh echoed once again. “Don’t ask me, kid, I’m not allowed to drive, either. Not because I’m ADHD, but because I’m terrible at it.” 

“You can say that again!” a muffled voice called from behind Remus. 

“Please excuse my fiance,” Remus said politely. “He’s a jackass who’s trying to make me lay down again.”

Felix smiled, though it was a bit pained. “I didn’t get a chance to apologize earlier. That stick was totally on me. And--I mean, I heard some of the guys talking afterward and it sounded like you got pretty banged up, so I’m really sorry. Like, really sorry.”

“Hey, woah, you’re fine,” Remus soothed. Bowie recognized his ‘talking to newbies’ voice and hid a smile in the cuff of his hoodie. “It’s the name of the game, after all. Did Bowie ever tell you about the time I accidentally checked him into a wall? Or when I broke his visor with a puck? For context, this was when we were on the same team.”

“Or that time you kicked my legs out from under me and sent me sprawling across the ice during practice.”

“That one was on purpose.” 

Bowie glared at the phone, but Felix was snickering and his grin was genuine. It calmed him a bit. “Thanks, Loops.”

“No problem, kiddo.” Remus paused for a moment, then mumbled something inaudible to someone in the background before clearing his throat. “Bowie.”

“Yes?” Remus had never been a wild card, per se, but he certainly had a knack for asking strange questions out of the blue.

“Did you accidentally adopt a child or do my ears deceive me?”

Bowie was about to laugh at the absurdity of it, but then he took a moment to think, looking back and forth between Simon and Felix. “Fuckin’--maybe I did, Re, but he’s ours now. And if that’s the case, I’m going to formally request that you tell your fiance to quit being mean to my son.”

Remus laughed on the other end of the line. “Will do. Felix seems like a sweetheart, I’m glad he’s got you two.” 

Bowie nodded with a slight smile, even though Remus couldn’t see him. “So are we. I can practically sense Sirius hovering, so go let your boyfriend fuss over you for a little while.” 

An offended noise came from Remus’s side, followed by a lower laugh and the click of the call ending. 

Simon looked Felix dead in the eyes. “I’m seconding the ‘kid’ thing. You may just barely be a legal adult, but it doesn’t mean we can’t adopt you. Congrats on your new gay dads.” 

Felix’s bright laugh sent a wave of relief through Bowie. “You guys are only, like, eight years older than me.”

“Silence, spawn,” Simon said, pointing a playful finger at him as his grin widened into something sweet and lopsided. “Now both of you need to come eat something. I made cookies while you were getting pushed around for a living.”

Bowie was still worried about Remus’ face--he made a mental note to call the next day to check in--but all his concerns disappeared as Felix scooped the cat up for a snuggle and followed Simon into the kitchen. They may have lost the game, but he would lose a million Cups to keep that moment forever: his Simon fussing over them both, his cat purring in pure bliss, and his kid settling into place at last.

[rosy-cheekx]

Heard you were looking for prompts :) 1 of 2 - From favorite tropes: Blind date set up by mutual friends! And maybe combined with "I'm speechless you're so beautiful" from the fluff & kisses (and other stuff) prompts. Go wild with it!

This will go to AO3 soon, but it was a lot of fun to write and a nice distraction from any hypothetical realities the TMA fandom may be experiencing. 

Double-Blind: 5K

Martin smelled like espresso. He wrinkled his nose and dusted his hands on his apron uselessly, as if doing so would rid himself of the months of coffee, cinnamon, and hazelnut baked into his skin. ��It wasn’t all that bad, he supposed, except what was the point in using cologne if it was going to be immediately overpowered?

The bell above the door jingled and Martin jumped, pulled from his thoughts on cologne and what he would like to smell like, given the opportunity. Sandalwood, maybe? Tobacco and vanilla? The musky-sweet smells are nice, they have a nice mix of feminine and masculine to them, almost—

“Ahem.” An exaggerated clearing of the throat, once again whisking him from his distractions. Martin locked eyes on the woman across the counter from him, grinning mischievously. “Welcome back to Earth, Martin.”

“Oh! Oh. It’s just you. Hi, Georgie.” Georgie Barker, a regular customer, moderately well-known podcast host, and most importantly, one of Martin’s favorite people to see at the tiny coffee shop he spent more time in than his own flat.

“Just me? Excuse me.” Georgie pouted and crossed her arms, coily hair bouncing around her face as she shook her head. “I’ll have you know you should be grateful to see me this fine afternoon, Martin Koffee Blackwood!”

Martin grinned and dropped the act. “I always am, Georgie. But I told you, there’s not a—”

“Like I said, you should be happy to see me.” Georgie barreled on. “I have good news.” She cocked her head and pondered the chalk-covered board behind the counter. “Two chai lattes, please. And make one of them extra spicy?”

Martin rang up the order and passed two cups down to Rosie, all the while checking the door surreptitiously, ensuring a little chat wouldn’t hold anyone up. “Okay? Spill.”

Georgie’s phone was in her hand, and she waved it at Martin like it contained the secrets of the universe. “D’you remember my roommate, Melanie?”

Martin nodded, pursing his lips. “Vaguely. I thought you guys were dating.” He raised his eyebrows, waiting for her to elaborate.

Georgie waved a hand dismissively, rolling her eyes. “Not the point. Anyways, she has a friend of a friend-“ Georgie frowned for a moment, “…of a friend who is looking to get back into dating. Mel says he’s short and nerdy and prickly until you get to know him. Apparently a real pain to work with according to the friend.” Georgie smirked and pulled a sticky note from her back pocket. “Thought maybe you’d want his number.”

Martin grimaced at the blue piece of paper as she smoothed it to the counter with a firm motion. “Wow, George. Really selling it.” It was his fault; they had bonded over being queer back in July when Martin had worn his gay and trans pride buttons and Georgie was proudly sporting her own pansexual patch firmly affixed to her laptop case. One lunch break discussing quirky exes later, their friendship had been sealed. Mentioning offhandedly that he was on dating apps and hating every minute of it seemed to have rooted itself in Georgie’s mind and had grown like weeds until she had taken it upon herself to become his personal wing woman.

“Do you even know his name?” Martin asked, regarding the string of numbers on the piece of paper in front of him.

Georgie blushed, shrugging apologetically. “Friend of a friend of a friend. Sorry mate. Melanie said he likes cats, documentaries, and-” she made air quotes with her fingers, “-being uptight.”

“Wow.” Martin chuckled in disbelief. “Really selling it here.”

Rosie sidled by Martin and set down Georgie’s lattes, who shrugged and picked them up after dropping a few coins in the tip jar. “You have his number. Just think about it, Blackwood. Melanie’s friend doesn’t spread the word about someone unless they’re something special.” She blew a kiss (clumsily, considering the cups requiring the attention of each of her hands) and made her way to the door.

“I just want you to be happy!” She called out as the January winds pulled her out the door and into the grey afternoon.

Martin chewed on his lip as he considered. January was always a tough month for him, and he had been feeling a little lonely recently. He really didn’t see anyone besides his coworkers, customers, and his mother. As much as he enjoyed his job, he wouldn’t call anyone there a romantic interest. He folded the sticky note and stuck it in his pocket as his next customer approached the counter. He did like cats, after all. Maybe that would be a good starting conversation.

--

Jonathan Sims groaned and shifted the stack of books in his hand as he inspected the knee-high table that was buried amongst the fiction books. He hated working the children’s section of the library. Although no food or drink was allowed, there always seemed to be crumbs everywhere. He was starting to wonder if children just manifested them. He made a mental note to come back with disinfectant wipes after putting the stack of child-suitable biographies away and turned, nearly walking straight into the chest of one Timothy Stoker.

“A-ah!” Jon jumped instinctively backward, clutching the books closer to his chest in an attempt to keep from dropping them. “Tim! Good lord, there’s really no need to be sneaking up on me like that.”

Tim grinned wryly and shrugged, taking half of the books from Jon’s arms. “Sorry boss, thought you heard me.” He gestured for Jon to lead the way through the half-sized bookshelves; an unnecessary act seeing as Tim worked the children’s library much more frequently than Jon did.

“I’m not your-” Jon sighed, deciding this wasn’t the hill he wanted to die on today. He made his way through the shelves, sliding books into their correct placements with practiced hands. “Do you need something?”

“Actually,” Tim checked a Dewey code and slid a book into a shelf a few rows down. “I don’t. But you do.”

Jon stared blankly, uncomprehending. Tim chuckled and gestured with a cock of his head towards the research section. “Melanie said she has a friend who has a friend she wants to set up on a date. And while normally, I’d jump at the chance-” he waved his left hand, the silver ring inset with tiny diamonds flashing in the fluorescents, “I’ve been wifed up and I don’t think my dear Sash would appreciate my going on a blind date with a stranger.”

Jon frowned, setting his stack of books down and eyeing Tim. “What, so I have to?”

Tim shook his head, a patient smile on his face. “No, no one is forcing you. I just think—well. It’s been a while since your last relationship and you’ve been a little…testy, recently.” The look on Tim’s face dared Jon to contradict. “Melanie says he’s apparently a really good guy, very kind and sweet and patient. I think his name is Melvin? I kinda tuned out after she wrote down the number she got from her friend.”

Jon scoffed, pushing his glasses up his face as if that would help him comprehend the absolute ridiculousness of what Tim was saying. “Y-You want me to go on a date with this guy, Melvin? Because I’ve been…grumpy? That doesn’t seem very kind to this mysterious date.”

Tim pursed his lips. “I just think you could benefit from seeing someone who doesn’t work here. I mean, we love you Jon, but god, you need to get a social life. I’m practically begging you.” Tim’s purse elongated into a pout, eyes going big and starry. Jon inwardly groaned. Tim was his oldest friend here at the library and he really never learned how to resist that face. Maybe he should ask Sasha.

“One date,” Jon promised. “I’ll do one date. And then you never set me up again.”

Tim grabbed the rest of the books Jon had set down and added them to his stack before whisking himself away down the aisles. “If we’re lucky, I’ll never have to!” He called down the aisles, grinning madly. Jon sighed and grabbed a small pink sticky note that had been stuck to the countertop, running his eyes over the numbers before slipping it into his pocket. He’ll call later.

--

Martin stared resolutely at the numbers on the blue sticky note, running his thumb over the curled edge of the paper, slightly stained from some sort of milk during the shift. Even his apron pockets weren’t foolproof. The underground was busy and he was jammed between an older woman who smelled weirdly like salmon and a man who seemed utterly too well-dressed to be on the tube. Elbows crammed into his side to keep from nudging anyone, he pulled out his phone and stared at the messaging app for what felt like several minutes. He typed the numbers into the message bar and watched his cursor blip in the body of the message.

Hey whats up?

No, that would be so weird.

Hiya, this is martin!

Georgie never said the man’s name, would this mysterious date know his?

Hey I think the alphabet is missing I and U together.

Gross. Just gross. Martin grimaced inwardly and chewed on his lip, thinking carefully before typing.

Hi! My name is martin. my friend gave me your number, hope thats okay. she said you were really nice and recommended we try a blind date. if this is too weird, I get ignoring it. but if youre game, I am! :)

As he finished typing, he heard the familiar robotic voice of the tube announcing his stop. Quickly, Martin shoved the phone in his pocket and carefully forced his way through the crowd and onto the platform, mind cast to what he had accessible for dinner.

----

It took Jon a few days, until Saturday, to remember to call the phone number they had been given. They could text, they supposed, but they always appreciated hearing someone’s intonation a little better. Especially a stranger, ugh, they shuddered at the idea of not being able to decipher the tone of this Melvin. It was half-past 11 when they decided to call, hoping this would be late enough in the morning to not wake him up.

The phone rang momentarily before a surprisingly feminine voice answered the phone. “Hello. This is Rosie. You’ve reached Swirl Café and Bakery.”

Well shit. This was not what Jon expected. They stumbled over their rehearsed speech, trying to scramble words together in a way that made sense. “Uh-sorry, I must have the wrong number. I-I was trying to speak to Melvin?”

“Mmm, sorry. No Melvin works here. We have a Martin, but he’s off the clock. Would you like to speak to our manager?” Rosie’s voice was clipped and courteous, but Jon could hear the bustle of voices in the background. It must be their weekend rush.

“Ah-uh, no, no thank you.” Jon shook their head into the phone, before remembering that did not translate aurally. “It’s alright. Thank you anyways.”

“Sorry, mate. Thanks for calling!” The dial tone droned on for a moment before Jon hung up, sighing and pressing the heels of their hands into their eyes. That was a waste. Melanie must have been playing them; Jon knew they generally didn’t get along, but they didn’t realize she would stoop so low. Honestly, shame on themself for getting excited about a date.

Later that evening, Jon was cooking and listening to music through the speaker that balanced precariously on a shelf next to their stove. The music was low, with a variety of orchestral instruments and sultry, smooth voices. Jon’s eyes were half closed as they stirred the curry in the pan in front of them, letting the music and heat of the kitchen entangle them in a sleepy feeling relaxing their whole body. As the cello in the song dipped low and resonant, Jon stood still, letting the music sweep them away—

They jumped as the ringer alerted them through the speaker that they had received a text, glaringly electronic compared to the rich notes of cello and viola that had been so rudely interrupted. Sleepy feeling gone as adrenaline washed through their body, Jon sighed and retrieved their phone, checking for the message.

An unknown number flicked across the screen:

Hi! my name is martin. my friend gave me your number, hope thats okay. she said you were really nice and recommended we try a blind date. if this is too weird, i get ignoring it. but if youre game, I am! :)

i meant to send this a few days ago but I never hit send. sorry ab that! rosie said someone called the café asking ab me and i assumed that was you bc i wasnt expecting anyone else and no one involved in the blind date thing ever asked for my mobile number.

if it wasn’t you, oops! either way it reminded me that i had never texted you. :)

Jon squinted at the screen as they read the messages a few times over. That was…a lot of words. So his name was Martin. It was certainly nicer than Melvin. Jon agonized over their words as they typed out a response.

Hello Martin. That was me who called the café…I hope it didn’t cause problems for you. Blind dates aren’t usually my thing, but my coworkers think I need to get out more. I’d be happy to meet you for dinner or coffee. Even if we don’t get along, we can say we’ve done it.

Unless, of course, you’re rather sick of coffee. I prefer tea anyways.

…not “done it” done it. Just. Had the blind date.

Jon winced at their follow up texts. God, that was embarrassing. Martin probably didn’t even take it that way until they bothered to clarify. They shook their head, warding away the growing anxiety in their chest and tucked their phone in their pocket as they turned their attention back to the simmering curry. Jon had embarrassed themselves enough for one night.

----

Martin chuckled at the texts that came through; one slow and the two follow-ups rapid. He could feel the awkwardness through the messages, desperately trying to give a good impression. He chuckled to himself as he set down his dinner plate.

dinner sounds perfect. but same about the tea! and about the coworkers tbh, my friends think im making friends with the espresso machine. which, i am, but only bc its good company haha.

btw i never got your name?

Martin’s phone was silent the rest of the night, as he plodded his way through a mediocre dinner and shower before settling into his armchair, desperate to work on his poetry. Words came slowly to him recently, thoughts about the world and darkness and the intersection of fall and winter. He really should up and move to somewhere warmer, he thought to himself, before laughing the notion away aloud. Yeah, right. He rolled his eyes and tried to focus on the poetry prompts book he had found at the charity shop. “Use noncolor words to describe a color.” Great. Martin settled back and tried to focus, but kept finding himself checking his phone impulsively, the foamed latte art he’d photographed, one of a cat he was particularly proud of, stared back at him judgmentally.

As he drew his evening to a close, Martin almost missed the buzz of his phone, now plugged in by his bed, as he brushed his teeth.

Congrats on the espresso machine. And my name is Jon. Anywhere you want to go for dinner?

________________________________________________________________

Jon hesitated, thumb hovering over the icon that would open a video chat with Tim. He didn’t want to come off nervous, but… he was.

Texting had been going well. Martin was good at keeping the conversation going and genuinely seemed to enjoy the long texts Jon had sent regarding his irritations with the research he was conducting as a part of his master’s in literature, asking him questions about details Jon had added for context. Martin was easy to talk to, too, he always seemed to have an opinion on subjects but always ones Jon was happy to hear, even if he was objectively wrong about spiders and oolong tea. Martin had sent an awkward text, letting Jon know he was trans and that if that was a dealbreaker he should tell him now, one Jon had blushed over and responded that he was nonbinary himself, and that it certainly wasn’t. The “okay fantastic! :))) remind me of your pronouns? he/him for me.” that followed it up had made Jon’s heart sing.

They had agreed to meet at an Italian place, equidistant between their flats and not too fancy. Martin had commented about getting ice cream after, but Jon wasn’t sure if he was joking or not, since it had also been a jab about Jon’s preference for rum raisin. Thus, he was staring at his wardrobe, paralyzed with indecision. Tim had offered to help, which Jon had initially rejected since he’s “not a child Tim, I’ve dated before. And I know how to dress myself.” But lord if he wasn’t wishing for someone to lay out his clothes and tell him to behave. He grimaced and jabbed the video chat button, bracing for the onslaught of teasing to come.

----

Martin adjusted his collar for what must have been the twelfth time, sucking on his lip as he waited at the reserved table. He hadn’t been there long, no more than five minutes, but his anxiety had been building up all day and a part of him was absolutely certain Jon wasn’t going to come. Neither of them knew what the other looked like; what if Jon saw him and had dipped out immediately? He was wearing mint green, as he had promised, so Jon would recognize him, and brought a bouquet of daisies, mostly because it felt weird not to bring anything, but he didn’t want to be too romantic. Not roses or anything. Besides, Jon said he liked daisies, said they reminded him of an old friend. Martin hoped it wasn’t too weird. He brushed his auburn curls out of the way of his eyes, part of him regretting not having gotten a haircut first, but he tucked those thoughts aside as he surveyed the restaurant from his vantage point.

He blinked in confusion as he watched long curls make their way towards him. Dark black hair, streaked with white, half bunned up in the back and rest left to hang loose, skimming purple-covered elbows. Martin wasn’t sure if they were wearing flowy grey pants or a skirt, but either way, the faint black pattern to them was stunning and Martin couldn’t help but watch the swoosh of the hemlines. As the person got closer, Martin realized they were tiny, stylized eyes.

“Ah-you’re Martin, right?” It took Martin a second to realize this absolutely beautiful person was talking to him.

“hmm—Oh! Yes! You must be Jon.” Martin stood, unsure whether he should shake Jon’s hand or hug him or? But Jon solved the problem himself by sitting, and so Martin did as well. “It’s nice to finally meet you…in person, that is,” he added, grinning shyly. “You look lovely, by the way.”

Jon blushed. “Ah, thank you. Y-You too. O-or handsome, whichever you prefer.” He sipped his water and fidgeted with his hands, eyes flicking around the room nervously before coming around to rest on Martin.

Martin shrugged. “A compliment is a compliment, they all work. Speaking of—what pronouns are you feeling today? I remember you saying it varies.”

Jon shook his head slightly. “I’m not going to pitch a fit either way, but ‘he’ is just fine.” It was nice to be asked. The library respected his pronouns, of course, but something about Martin going out of his way to make sure he was on the same page was… It made Jon’s heart thud deep in his chest.

They made small talk about the travel, the weather, Italian food preferences until the waiter came and relieved the tension. Martin felt his shoulders relax after they both ordered; it felt more real somehow.

“So,” Martin asked, sipping his water demurely, a smile tinged on his lips. “Melvin, huh?”

Jon choked on air for a moment. His mouth gaped open and shut again and Martin couldn’t help the grin overtook him. Jon’s embarrassment was sweet; his cheeks flushed and he bowed his head slightly. It was a lovely look on him. “For the record, that’s what I was told by my coworker, Tim.” Jon made air quotes with his fingers. “‘Melvin or something.’ Who was I to question your name?”

“Right, and I’m glad you respect names ‘n’ all. But Melvin?” Martin chuckled to himself, shaking his head. “I’m not the decimal system guy.”

“Nn-mmm,” Jon shook his head, nose wrinkled in a way Martin found particularly cute. “That’s Melville. Melville Dewey.” Jon emphasized, back straightening. “Distinctly different. I’m a librarian, actually.”

“Oh!” Martin blinked. “That makes sense. You work with Melanie, then, I assume?”

Jon grimaced again. “Unfortunately.”

“She’s not that bad!” Martin insisted. “I’ve met her once or twice and she’s been very polite.”

Jon rolled his eyes. “For someone who’s getting a degree in parapsychology, she seems very judgmental.”

“Oh? And what are you studying again?”

“English Lit-hey!”

Martin grinned behind his glass of water. “Just saying, I haven’t met an English Lit student who wasn’t obscenely pretentious.”

Jon faltered for a second and slumped his shoulders in defeat, though his voice still seemed to carry humor, albeit dry. “Unfortunately, I am no exception.”

“Well, I didn’t say I didn’t like it.”

Dinner arrived smoothly, shrimp scampi for Jon and eggplant parmesan for Martin. They ate slowly, chatting more about Jon’s graduate degree, Martin’s affinity for fiction and poetry, and their shared interest in tea.

“So, are you vegetarian?” Jon gestured to the eggplant on Martin’s plate. Martin wobbled his head slightly, not quite a negatory shake of the head.

“It’s complicated. My mother has—had—a sensitive stomach so we didn’t eat meat growing up. I think that turned me off the taste. And there’s something about the texture,” he shuddered. “Weirds me out.”

Jon’s eyes were sharp, boring holes into Martin’s in a way he should have found alarming, but instead found soothing. “Mine, too.” His tone—softer, almost reverent, clued Martin in: he wasn’t talking about being vegetarian.

Martin nodded, and gently placed a hand on Jon’s, the one that hovered near his drinking glass. “I’m sorry.”

They were quiet for a moment, Jon’s hand was small and warm under his, and Martin could feel a thin silver bracelet clinging to his wrist. Martin was amazed by how perfectly his fingers rested over Jon’s, how nice it must feel to hold hands with him on a walk or side by side against the world. Jon cleared his throat suddenly and reached for his glass, gulping down water while staring steadfastly at his plate.

Martin felt his own blush rise through his cheeks and pushed a stray noodle around his plate. “So, here’s a question,” he began, eager to clear the tension. “You said earlier your friend Tim gave you the number to Swirl, right? I don’t know a Tim. So how did he know me?”

Jon frowned, cocking his head. “Technically, I got the number from Tim but that was via Melanie. She said her roommate was friends with…well, friends with you.”

“Mmhmm, that makes sense. I know Georgie from the coffee shop.” He was about to continue when he saw absolutely paralyzed look on Jon’s face. “You…you alright?”

Jon was stock still, pausing the forkful of shrimp that was en route to his mouth. “Sorry, Melanie’s roommate is Georgie?”

Martin nodded slowly. “Yeah, Georgie Barker, that podcaster. She gets her an extra-spicy chai latte from Swirl most days and that’s about the most I know of the relationship. Why, you know her?”

Jon put the fork down, shrimp forgotten, and sighed, running his thumbs along the bridge of his nose, pushing his thin-rimmed glasses up to his eyebrows. “Y-yes, she’s kind of…my ex.”

It was Martin’s turn to freeze. “Sorry?”

“Mmm, yeah, we decided we were better as friends. It was back in Oxford. But I don’t exactly see her often much anymore.” Jon winced at his own words, as if he knew how bad they sounded.

Martin sat back in disbelief, chuckling to himself. “Y’know, she said you were a ‘friend of a friend of a friend.’ D’you think she even knew it was you?”

Jon cocked his head in thought. “I guess not. I mean, I think the whole library staff has been gunning for me to relieve some tension. I wouldn’t be surprised if they’ve been looking for a blind date for me for months now.”

Martin grinned, eyes sparkling. “Well, no matter. It was lucky for me.” Lucky again, was Martin, when he was rewarded with Jon’s warm blush.

----

The bill had been a painful affair, with both Jon and Martin vying for the privilege of paying. Martin struck a deal: he’d pay for the dinner, and Jon would pay for ice cream. Jon knew the differences would widely outweigh when it came to cost but he relented, and the self-satisfied smirk that blossomed over Jon’s face was payment enough.

Martin pointed out the ice cream parlor was a few blocks away and, though it was January, they decided to walk. The fresh snow on the ground glinted against the orange street lamps, and Jon laughed under his breath at the way Martin took great care to step on any unusually large clumps of snow, like he had a personal vendetta. When Jon’s chuckle had made it past the scarf he had wound round his neck and mouth, Martin had glanced over, embarrassed.

“I like the sound of it,” he mumbled, suddenly very meek for a man his stature. It was, regretfully, endearing. Martin was tall, but he was big too, and it was obvious underneath the layer of soft cashmere and chub, there was rigid muscle, and beneath that still, a gentle heart. Jon was struck by him, in more ways he had prepared himself for, and it felt second nature to slide his gloved hand into Martin’s and give it a solid squeeze of acknowledgement.

“Do you think it’s too cold to get ice cream?” Jon asked, watching a cloud of breath float by his lips.

Martin shrugged. “Technically? Yes. But who’s going to tell on us?” Jon swung their entwined hands a little. “Unless…you don’t want to?” Martin added, eyes locking on Jon’s before his head followed.

Jon shook his head. “No, I want to. I believe we have a debt to settle and I have a personal score involving rum raisin.” Martin beamed, clearly pleased, and Jon was certain the snow around him melted right off with the warmth of his smile. Jon leant into Martin’s side a little, and they continued in silence until they reached the ice cream parlor, the entrance to which glowed with pink and white LEDs.

Jon smugly ordered a scoop of rum raisin and was delighted to find Martin “didn’t hate it,” though he insisted his mint chip was better. That was genuinely the best Jon could hope for; not even Georgie in all her unusual tastes enjoyed his rum raisin sensibility. “My grandmother loved it when I was a kid,” he explained between bites, stirring the ice cream with his spoon. “It was the only flavor she kept around the house.”

“Not even vanilla?” Martin gasped in mock disbelief. “Any sensible person would say you’ve been tricked into enjoying it.” Jon chuckled and elbowed Martin mildly.

Jon found himself lingering over the bowl, realizing that the end of their dessert meant an end to the date. Martin seemed to be acting similarly, putting his spoon down between bites and taking more and more thoughtful swallows between their bouts of conversation.

“You-you took the tube here, right?” Jon asked, setting his finally-empty bowl off to the side. At Martin’s confirmation, Jon clenched his fist below the table. “Do you want to walk to the station together?”

Martin’s eyes lit up, nodding eagerly. “I had meant to ask, actually! I wanted to make sure you got there safe.” Jon winced at the blush that overtook his cheeks, though it was easy to blame it on the chill of the ice cream and the frigid night.

The walk to the tube was longer and the pair, heavily sated by pasta and dairy, were quiet, making soft comments about the snow or the odd remaining Christmas decorations, hands clasped tightly and shoulders pressing into the other. The fluorescents of the underground shone brightly, normally a beacon calling travelers home in the night, but to Jon it felt like a dreadful curse. He truly hadn’t expected to enjoy his evening with Martin so much, but they had just clicked. It felt like a shame to let it go.

Swiping their cards, Jon and Martin passed through their respective turnstiles and stood at the bisecting tunnels through which the various lines waited to take them home. They faced each other in silence, hands still interlocked, unsure of how to begin.

“If you’d like to,” Jon murmured, eyes shifting focus to Martin’s curls, plastered to his forehead from the snow; his collar, peeking through his coat; the way the shell of his ear seemed to have a nick missing (was it from a childhood accident? Just the way it was grown?). “I’d like to go out again.”

Martin squeezed Jon’s hand, and Jon’s eyes flitted back to Martin’s own; they were grey-blue and reminded Jon of his childhood sea. “Mmhmm, yeah.” Martin rolled his eyes at his own words and tried again. “Yes, Jon, I’d love that.” Martin moved to hug Jon, a gesture Jon eagerly accepted, relishing the warm arms encircling him and the feel of Martin’s chin resting on the crown of his head. As they pulled away, Martin’s eyes flitted across Jon’s face and the hand around his back moved, cautiously, to rest on the side of Jon’s neck.

“I…I don’t want to presume,” Martin said quietly, and Jon was distinctly aware of how empty, how big, the station was. “Is it okay if I kiss your cheek?”

Jon blinked rapidly, nodding wordlessly, before clearing his throat. “Ah, um, yes. Please.”

Martin’s smile was soft as he pressed his lips to the apex of Jon’s cheekbone, almost into his hairline. Jon was sure the blush that rose across his face this time certainly couldn’t be explained away by the snow, but he honestly wasn’t really sure he cared.

[what-is-love-babey-dont-hurt-me]

The Haunting of Thomas Sanders 

> Part 1 < Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Summary: Nico was beginning to think his new boyfriend was haunted by ghosts. He never planned to bring it up until the ghosts themselves came to him asking for help.

[AO3]

CW: food mention, alcohol mention, past breakup

Notes: Based off this text post I made. 

.

Nico had come to the mall for inspiration.

Anything to get out of his office would help him at this point, really. The meetings he had to go to were stifling any new ideas and the nosey, pompous co-workers were worse. The writer did not know what he was looking for, but what else brought people to malls? Maybe a new outfit would uncover confidence , maybe indulging in greasy food would be that final click he seemed to lack, maybe people-watching would offer the right story. Nico's bets were not on the last one.

The mall was not as busy as it once had been. When he was still a teen it was a lively place bustling with a constant traffic of people. Walking through shops offered hours of new stimulation and the hallways were towering, intricate skylights the crowning jewel. As time went on Nico got older and things changed. Online shopping is easier than anything and a fair few of the shops were closed down for good.

Nevertheless it was his favorite place to write if he had to choose. The buzz of energy helped him focus on work. Nico found peculiar security in being an irrelevant face in a crowd of hundreds, and knowing that each person had a life he could never even imagine opened floodgates of inspiration. The 'What if's?' and 'Why's?" he asked himself when people-watching could get the ball rolling.

Now there were less faces, less stories. Nico did not appreciate the way this shift reflected in his work. The difference was noticeable, and he struggled more with deadlines, but he worked with what he had.

He learned to pay attention to individuals more. However, currently what he had was waiting for his food, because at this point he might have more luck finding inspiration in eating then in others. There had only been a toddler throwing a tantrum, a teen scrolling on their phone, and a man who sat down across from him at the food court-

Oh hello, inspiration.

If Nico was staring, the only reason he got away with it was his laptop blocking his line of sight. He saw all he needed out of the corner of his eye. The floral shirt was extremely flattering, and if he wasn't mistaken he could see the outline of muscles. That brown hair looked fluffy, and what he would give to run his fingers through it while- Okay, Nico, you might be gay but that thought isn't for a stranger .

He could not even see his eye color. And the man in the floral shirt was eating, interrupting his meal would be rude. Maybe there was a way to make this still work? As his waitress got to his table and dropped off his food, he subtly turned his pinned-covered backpack in the direction of the stranger. If Mr. Handsome did not answer his silent plea then he would move on.

He tossed a fry into his mouth instead of letting himself think.

Maybe he had got his hopes up when the guy came in his direction, only to walk up to a Karrot King line. When the writer saw the man in the floral shirt inspect the plant, he wondered if he liked botany. Finally the same useless hope happened again when they made admittedly awkward eye contact for a few seconds. So he has brown eyes. The guy turned away rather fast so Nico dropped it. Maybe showing a pride pin made the guy uncomfortable and it was to good to be true.

Only when he heard a CRASH and saw somebody fall into a garbage can, did he finally get an idea about what to write. That was a metaphor he could spin into a story. Certainly it was not at all because he felt trashy for a missed opportunity. Nor was it due to that cute guy having disappeared, leaving his food uneaten.

Wait . You can still make this work, Flores.

He scarfed down the rest of his food and discarded the trash. Nico's fast pace to get to the table with the food turned a few heads, but he ignored it. Greasy bag in hand, he browsed the crowd for that familiar pattern. Every person wearing a floral shirt was either an older lady or a child. Nico swayed on the balls of his feet as he contemplated what to do next, but then he saw him coming out of the restroom.

Bingo!

None of what happened after went as planned. Serves him right for letting his overactive imagination create unrealistic expectations.

He should have known trying to do small talk with strangers would only backfire. After Nico had called out after him to return the food, he had tried to ask what made him leave in a rush to forget his food. Then the guy asked what was wrong with him and Nico dropped it. He gave the stranger his well-wishers and left afterwards. He would honestly rather head back to work then be here right now.  

No matter if he was admittedly cute, Nico Flores probably would have been mad at the man if he did not look like he was on the verge of a public anxiety attack. He was probably starving, too, if he had forgotten his lunch.

The man in the floral shirt hesitated behind him, running after Nico.

When they actually sat down to talk together, the man in the floral shirt - Mr. Sanders, Thomas - was quite charming. And funny. And intelligent. Oh, when he had called Thomas an inspiration earlier he had meant it. He just met a singer and an actor, is there a more perfect match to a writer and poet?

Leave it to his imagination to think of a man he just met reciting the poems and lovingly singing songs he writes.

The two had talked for over two hours without noticing. They had bounced ideas off of each other and Nico made an impressive amount of progress. He felt so giddy with just this one interaction! Nico was sad that they had to leave; Thomas seemed just as reluctant to part.

"Well you didn't get to eat much today at lunch right?"

Thomas fiddled with his fingers, "Yeah…"

Nico did not let himself second guess himself , he offered, "Then let me buy you dinner tonight!"

As a breath caught in Thomas' throat, Nico was self conscious that he might have said something wrong, but the heavy blush across the other man's face was not of offence or horror at all. Thomas was smiling at him again.

Finding ways to make Thomas go speechless was going to be his new favorite pastime… if Thomas would give him a chance, he decided. Just that alone lit a fire inside him, and later when he finished with writing for work, he would write some more. All he would be writing about would be this, a collection of poems to free these butterflies in his stomach. Thomas seemed to look around for approval from anybody else and nodded quickly

"I'd love to go with you, Nico! Maybe we can uh- get to know each other better?" Oh man, it was flattering to have somebody so cute get so nervous at him of all people.  

"Only if I could get to know the digits on your phone number better," he confirmed with a playful grin. It might have been cheesy, certainly. But he was also the person who told Thomas that they would not waste this opportunity. Pretending he was not corny now would be a lie.

Thomas taking his cliché advances in stride only made him more hopeful.

.

.

They both later met at a local bar and grill close to the beach. A salty sea breeze tousled his hair and the palm leaves. The hour was close to sunset, too hot for the mosquitoes to bug them but not too hot for the two of them to eat outside.

"I'm looking for a table for two? RSVP'd under the name 'Flores'?" He asked. The waitress nodded, sat him down with a menu. Thomas was not there, and a part of him wonders if he is getting stood up. Nico, not particularly interested in looking at food yet, fiddled with his laptop. He sighed because even If that was the case, Nico would try to make the most of the night.

The waitress brought Thomas to the table a few minutes later. The writer's heart soared before worry took root. Thomas was wearing that same expression from earlier that day on his face. He anxiously explained. "I'm so, so sorry for being late. And i totally get if you don't want me here and would prefer to just call this all off. I didn't mean to show up late, but then as I was about to leave my apartment I- my keys just-"

Nico grabbed one of Thomas' hands and smiled reassuringly. "Hey, I'm not angry you got here late."

Thomas really did look cute flustered, but he did not let go of the hand. Instead he ran his thumbs along his knuckles. "I'm happy you're here with me. Wanna order a drink and maybe share an appetizer with me?"

They both chatted about foods they disliked while waiting. Thomas hated carrots with a passion as it turned out, and he made a mental note to tease him about going to a Karrot King. Nico in turn talked about his dislike for most seafood and mushrooms because of the slimy texture. The waitress came and both agreed on a sampler platter to share.

"Mimosas at sunset?" He inquired.

Thomas smiled nervously. "I usually save them for brunches, with friends. All the other options I like are too much if I want to drive home tonight."

Nico nodded, understanding.

Just like in the food court, Talking with Thomas made time go past without him even noticing. They tried out food together, talked about music, and that led Nico into telling a story about a Highschool band. Thomas was red in the face and giggling uncontrollably by the time they paid for the check and had to leave.

They left the building together when Thomas stopped him. "There's a park around the corner. We can feed the ducks some leftovers."

If Nico noticed that Thomas was not ready to say bye just yet, he did not say it. The last of the sun was behind the horizon by the time they went through a breadstick. Watching Thomas interact with the ducks gave him the idea that this man loved animals. They were cute, he would admit, but nature found other ways to ruin his mood.

Nico laughed at himself, pulling his arms closer into his body. "I almost wish I dressed up a bit more. I didn't expect the mosquitoes to be this bad."

"I know it's warm out, but I can lend you a jacket?"

Nico did a double take at what Thomas was holding up. It was black with plaid sleeves, already oversized so it wouldn't have a problem fitting Nico. It honestly looked very comfortable, and it would keep him from being bit, but comfort wasn't what he was caught up on.

"Being warm beats being eaten alive."

When the fuck did Thomas have an extra jacket on him? Did he really not notice it?

He hesitated, and then asked a whole entirety different question. "Are you sure I can take this? I won't be able to return it to you tonight."

Thomas insisted, "Please, I don't mind- I don't need it. And you can keep it for tonight, or until we see each other again?"

Nico put the jacket on and it was soft. And it smelled like the cologne Thomas was wearing. Oh this was nice. "When will that be, Thomas?"

Thomas let his eyes linger on Nico in his jacket. "Saturday I'm free, I think. We could have brunch together, even."

He smiled. "Saturday sounds wonderful."

.

.

When they first had met, being infatuated was easy. It came to the pair more natural than breathing.

Nico originally did not know if his relationship with Thomas Sanders would go anywhere. But the first meeting had been so promising. And then they had a brunch date at Thomas' place, then a second and a third. Maybe… maybe Nico was moving too fast. Things kept going well nonetheless.

Four, five, six, seven. They kept on hanging out. Going out. They wanted to see more and more of each other. Quickly they were amassing a horde of good memories together. During nights away, they loved to text and call each other. They never put a label on what they did, which was starting to bother him. It felt more intimate than friendship. Were these dates?

According to his family, yes. They had noticed his change in mood and lack of free time quickly and demanded explanation. He kept it vague, but got advice anyways. Mama Flores said it was ridiculous that he had not brought Thomas by to meet the famila. Hid Papa was more doubtful. Even though it has been years since Nico's last major failed relationship, his father was still worried.

Papa Flores was a proud man, so it left a bad taste in his mouth when he requested Nico to take more time before giving his heart away. He had to oblige. Nico was over it, he healed, but some of his family was not. Nico's ex was like a second son to Papa, and everybody was hurt by him.

Call him cliché, but Thomas was different.

Even when Nico was past the stage of infatuation, Thomas took his breath away.

Could you be infatuated by somebody you have not actually kissed yet? It felt like it. Sure, when they had met at that food court, he had his breath taken away, and that feeling intensified when they saw each other more. He knew infatuation could feel like love, but these feelings passed the test of time and matured into something deeper. With more meaning. He did not like just the idea of Thomas and what their future might look like, he liked Thomas for his presence and as a person.

Suddenly his worries that they were moving too fast turned into frustrations they were moving too slow. They were more intimate than regular friends, but they never got far enough to be considered partners. It was frustrating to figure out. Nico was ready for a relationship, he was certain. The three months he spent getting to know Thomas were blissful, and calling their dates only "hangouts" had begun to feel forced.

So they talked about it.

Thomas said he was also ready but his actions seemed more… hesitant. He mentioned somebody from his past, who he moved on from but never could forget. Nico wanted to ask, to find out what happened to his heart for him to be so afraid. He knew what it felt like to have scars that still hurt, he wanted to be there for Thomas as he healed.

But that was not the time for the conversation. Not when Nico was nearly on Thomas' lap and his arms hung around his neck. Not when Thomas met his eyes and Nico stared at them for too long. It could have been him trying to figure out what emotions they held, maybe Thomas' eyes were that beautiful. His friend -- boyfriend? -- got so anxious and trapped in his head easily, but Thomas seemed in control of his more scary thoughts in that moment. It brought a smile to his face, unnoticed between the way they were slowly moving closer.

Still, cautious and vulnerable, eager and loving, Thomas had let Nico kiss him. Finally getting to show Thomas just how much he wanted to cherish him was amazing. And receiving that same passion in return was intoxicating.

Getting an answer never felt so good.

Nico's more-than-friendly feelings were not the only thing that was starting to add up in regards to Thomas either. There were strange happenings, though were so minuscule he had nothing tangible to go off of.

Thomas might be really good at sneaking things past Nico's eyes, common sense would say. Intuition told himself not to doubt what he saw. Thomas did not have that spare jacket on their first date originally. It literally had to of appeared from thin air. And when Thomas invited him for brunch, he noticed that two of the mimosas Thomas had prepared with brunch had vanished. Sometimes he experiences ghost touches when staying the night. The hands were gentle and comforting, calluses on the fingertips just like Thomas, but when he opened his eyes nobody was there.

That was the most noticeable of things. Though he could list off a dozen smaller happenings. He had no proof for them, as they could be explained, but Nico listened to his gut here.

And Nico has no idea what he would want to do with this information anyways. Thomas seemed to have some supernatural force that followed him around. What a fantastic conclusion to jump to! It would be weird to bring up, especially after Thomas had denied anything when Nico subtly brought it up. And the ghosts - for lack of better term - did nothing to harm Thomas.

The information that Thomas was haunted by ghosts was, for all intents and purposes, useless.

(Except it was not. It was fantastic material to write from. When he first called Thomas inspiration, his first impression never proved to be wrong.)

(And if Nico had started a personal project dedicated to a story based on it, nobody needed to know,)

The difference between Nico's feelings for Thomas and his feelings about his ghosts is that one actually got addressed.

He would be content to let Thomas have that secret to himself.

NEXT PART >>

[girlboss-molina]

Be Who You Are (No Compromise)

A Julie and the Phantoms Modern Royalty AU

Chapter 1: Introductions

AO3 Link

Words: 5543

-----

Alex POV

...

Of course. 

Of fucking course.

He’d known it was coming, yeah, but that didn’t change the fact that, despite his friendship with Princess Julie, Alex had no desire to marry her. And now, after begging not to be married off, he was still stuck in this deal.

It had nothing to do with Julie herself, of course; Julie was a kind, loving, musical girl around his age. The issue was that he was gay. Marrying a girl was not something he was interested in. 

Julie knew Alex was gay; he’d come out to her after he was sure she would accept him, which he knew she would after she mentioned her best friend being a lesbian, and her being bisexual herself. Needless to say, neither of them had been thrilled by the announcement a couple years back that they would be getting married, for more reasons than the fact that nobody wants to be in an arranged marriage. 

And now, in three months time, he would be at the alter with a girl he wasn’t in love with. 

Alex knew it wouldn’t be that bad; in fact, he and Julie were quite close friends. Their kingdoms, Tambor and Dahlia respectively, were close allies. But for some godforsaken reason, their leaders had felt the need to strengthen their allyship by setting up their heirs in an arranged marriage. Had Alex been the oldest, this wouldn’t have been the case. However, it wouldn’t be him, but his older sister, Ava, taking the throne of Tambor. 

He, along with his guards, would be travelling to Dahlia this evening. He hated that it was so soon. Not that he wasn’t excited to see Julie, he was, but it was the reason that put a knot in his stomach.

Alex allowed himself one more panic attack before getting ready. As a treat.

The warm sun streaming into his room felt out of place with the dread settling in his stomach, and his breath choked, his heart racing, salty tears streaming down his face. He clenched his hands into fists and back out, trying to calm himself despite the emotional release. His nails dug into his palm, not hard enough to cut, but enough to leave little indents that he then ran his fingertips across. 

Trying to pull himself together, he stood - albeit shakily - and walked across the soft, carpeted floor to his full-length mirror, pleasantly surprised as he noted that he wasn’t as big of a mess as he’d expected, given his previous panic. 

A knock on his door alerted him that his head butler was there to help him get ready for the jet ride.

“Your highness, are you alright?”

Alex didn’t answer, grateful for Luke’s steady voice outside his door.

“He’s a little panicky at the moment. Maybe give him a few minutes to settle?” he suggested, and Alex hoped Luke was receiving the strong thank you vibes he was trying to transmit telepathically. 

Any time Alex had a panic attack, he was semi-verbal. He could speak if he really, really tried, but it generally took a great deal of effort. He and Luke had a system, though; if Alex needed support during a panic attack, he would fake-sneeze three times, and Luke would come in from his station outside Alex’s door. 

Alex allowed himself another minute to calm his breathing and wipe the tears from his face, practicing the grounding exercise Julie had taught him. 

Inhale- 1, 2, 3, 4

Hold- 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7

Exhale- 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8

It helped a lot, and soon he was able to straighten his hair and begin changing into the suit his tailors had made just for this occasion. 

Another knock echoed from his door, and Alex took one final deep breath to compose himself. 

“Come in,” he said, proud of how steady his voice was. 

The butler entered; a kind man named Erik, who Alex had gotten to know over the past month or so. His olive skin shone in the afternoon light streaming through the floor-to-ceiling windows. 

Alex dressed himself, for the most part; having butlers help him dress was never something he particularly enjoyed. He allowed Erik to smooth his white dress shirt, though; no matter how many times Alex had practiced tucking in his shirts, they always ended up wrinkled. 

He slid the navy suit vest over the shirt once it was nice and smooth, fastening the thick buttons over his stomach. Minimalistic gold embroidery on the vest sparkled in the light, and Alex couldn’t help but smile at the bit of flair. He’d been half-hoping that his matching navy pants would have a bit of sparkle as well, but to no avail. Probably for the best, he decided. Just a little touch was enough. 

He fixed the cuff of his sleeve, taking a breath as Erik reached up with a comb to fix his hair. It was simple but refined, how it always was. 

“Erik, you’ve outdone yourself with this one, bro!” Alex said excitedly. He might not be very pleased about being in an arranged marriage, but he could appreciate a good suit. “I love the details.”

“I’m glad you like it!” Erik beamed with the praise. “May I?” he asked, reaching for Alex’s shoulders. Alex nodded, and Erik smoothed the vest’s warm fabric, readjusting the hem until it was aligned perfectly. 

He might not have been the type of guy to always wear suits, unless necessary, but Alex had to admit it. He looked good. The slim fit outlined his muscles, and the deep blue of the vest and pants brought out the bluish tints in his blue-green-grey eyes. (nobody could seem to decide what color they actually were). The small touches of golden embroidery shone and somehow managed to accentuate the sun-born highlights in his hair. 

“You look wonderful, your highness.”

“Thanks, Erik. And you can call me Alex, we’re chill.” Alex had been insisting to Erik that he could be casual around him for months, but Erik still generally referred to him as “your highness.”

“Alex,” he corrected with a broad smile. “Well, Alex, you have a photoshoot for the press in ten minutes, so if there’s anything else I can do to get you ready, don’t hesitate to ask. Though I must say, you look awesome.” Alex let out a small laugh. 

“Thanks, dude. Oh, wait, before you go, could you tell me something?”

“Of course,” Erik replied. Alex put on his Serious Face.

“Do these pants make my butt look big?” Erik bust out laughing, and Alex couldn’t help but do the same. 

...

Three hours later, Alex was finally done with an exhaustive photoshoot. He hated having his picture taken; add that to the list of anxieties. He had to make sure he looked perfect, or everything could go wrong; that was what his parents had drilled into him from the moment he had his first real photoshoot. 

Of course, he still had to endure an interview with the Tambor Times Magazine, which he was dreading. Speaking to an overeager journalist with no respect for privacy was never something he looked forward to. 

“What are your thoughts on the marriage that has been arranged between you and Her Royal Highness, Princess Julie of Dahlia?” Alex cleared his throat.

“It’s definitely a unique situation,” he started. “I mean, not every nineteen-year-old is part of an arranged marriage.” He did his best to keep his voice light, and it must’ve worked, because the journalist gave a laugh and moved on. 

“If I may, what is your current relationship with her?”

“The princess and I share a close bond,” was the only answer he gave. “If you’ll excuse me, I must be going,” he added. “I have a flight to catch.” He grinned - He didn’t have to catch any flight. He would be on the royal family private jet. But the journalist smiled and shook his hand, instructing him to have a wonderful evening, and he did the same. 

The bit about catching a flight wasn’t entirely false, though; soon, he had wished his parents a good evening and boarded the jet with his suitcases, hoping to leave his anxiety in Tambor.

-----

Julie POV

...

So.

Here’s the thing. 

Julie liked Alex, she really did. He was one of her closest friends (princesses don’t get out much). But he was gay, And Julie was decidedly Not A Guy. Plus, they both knew their connection was strongest platonically, anyway. 

Of course, none of that matters in diplomacy. 

Julie had tried many, many times to get out of the arranged marriage. But she’d just turned eighteen, and Alex nineteen, and apparently their kingdoms had no such qualms about marrying off teenagers. 

At least her dad, King Ray, had tried to get her out of it. But even as king, there was only so much he could do; everybody except for him thought it was a grand idea, because Of Course They Did. And once the public had heard the news, when she was sixteen, Julie couldn’t look out her window without seeing photographers outside the palace gates for a week. 

She supposed there was nothing she could do about it now, though, no matter how much she wanted to, for her sake and Alex’s. 

At least he was someone she got along with well. She knew they would never be in love, for multiple reasons, but she wouldn’t be unhappy. Alex might, though. They’d stayed up late on many a night, him rambling about cute guys he’d seen amongst the palace staff or on his occasional trip to the city, her chatting about songs she’d been writing and the one guy she’d had a crush on, Nick. 

Nick was the son of a nobleman her dad was very close with, and they were good friends, but she’d never acted on her little crush. Her feelings for Nick hadn’t really gone anywhere, it was just a lingering crush she’d had for a few years, but one that had faded with time.

Julie sighed, smoothing out her dress. It was simple but elegant, with a little bit of Julie flair. The silky violet fabric was cut in a slim fit to her waist, before gently flaring outwards towards her ankles. Off-the-shoulder straps revealed the dark skin of her shoulders, and the pearly embroidery of dahlia flowers around her waist shone in the light, tapering off as she twirled, though as she practiced her camera smile, it didn’t reach her eyes. 

Alex was her friend, but neither of them wanted to get married. But she’d tried her hardest to get them out of it, to no avail. 

So, as she sat down at her vanity, Julie closed her eyes and reminded herself the words her mother used to tell her every time she was scared. 

It’ll all be okay, Jules. You’re strong, and you’re a diamond in the rough.

The words settled her stomach a little bit. 

Her lady-in-waiting, Mira, knocked on her door. 

“Come in,” Julie said. Mira bustled in, her flaming red hair pulled into a messy bun, her brown eyes sparkling. 

“Oh, Jules, you look lovely.” Julie smiled.

“Thanks, Mira. How’s my hair?” Julie reached up to smooth her curls, which had been combed back and woven into a thick, braided knot at the base of her neck.  

“Almost perfect, but it needs a little something,” Mira decided with a smirk. Julie had no idea what Mira had in mind, but she knew she would love it. 

Before either of them could say another word, Flynn walked into Julie’s room, followed by her girlfriend, Carrie. 

“Hey, underachiever,” Flynn greeted with a smile.

“Hey, disappointment!”

“Dude,” Flynn said, a serious look on her face. “That dress is the shit!” Carrie nodded enthusiastically. 

“A definite look.”

“Thanks guys,” Julie said with a grin. “I love it, too! Mira’s got some sort of magic in her hands, because this is one of my favorites for sure.” Mira blushed. 

“Well, I’m not quite done,” she admitted. “Jules, your color scheme is pink, purple, and blue, usually, right?”

“Yeah, usually! I can always get behind some other colors, though.”

“Of course. But I think for this dress, the pink-purple-blue scheme would fit the best.”

“Definitely,” Carrie jumped in. “The purple mediates the pink and blue, so those are like side accents.” 

“I like this one,” Mira decided, pointing at Carrie. Carrie flipped her hair and smiled. “But yes. So, I was thinking for your hair, we could weave in some thin ribbons in those colors? It would be super simple, wouldn’t even have to take it out and restyle it.”

“Work your magic,” Julie instructed. Mira grinned excitedly and set to work, sitting Julie down at the vanity.

“Okay, Jules,” Flynn sighed. “I know you don’t want me to ask this, but are you doing okay?” Carrie took Flynn’s arm and nodded. “I know this isn’t what you wanted. Either of you.”

“I’ll be fine,” Julie decided. She didn’t want to marry Alex, and she knew he felt the same way. “At least it’s not somebody I hate, though. Alex and I get along really well.”

“I know,” Carrie added. “But that doesn’t mean you have to be okay.” A single tear rolled down Julie’s cheek, and she was grateful she hadn’t done her makeup yet.

“Thanks. To be honest, I’m not really okay, but I’ll live. And besides, it’s not for another three months. And having another friend around for a few months will be nice. Before, you know, I have to marry him.” Flynn let out a sad laugh. 

“If I may add my input,” Mira began, “I’ve always hated the prospect of arranged marriages. At the very least, both people should have to agree with it.” Julie nodded, quickly stopping when she felt the ribbons Mira was weaving into her hair tug. “Sorry,” she added. “I’ll be done in just a moment.”

“I agree,” Carrie said. “It’s stupid. Dahlia and Tambor are already allies, so why are they even doing this?”

“I’m not sure, to be honest. My dad says it’s to ‘strengthen agreeability between our separate civilians.’ But at least tried to get me out of it,” she added. “King Xavier and Queen Claire both thought it was a great idea.” Julie had always held some bitterness towards Alex’s parents, given their closed-mindedness and apathy towards minorities and less fortunate people. Alex had always felt the same, and avoided coming out to them for those reasons. 

“Well, I personally think it’s homophobic that my best friend is being forced to be part of an arranged marriage,” Flynn decided, “because I’m gay and it annoys me. Plus, you know, she doesn’t want to be part of it.” Julie couldn’t help but laugh at that, as did Mira. 

“All done with the ribbons,” she said, handing Julie a mirror to see the back of her head. 

“Oh, Mira, I love it!” The ribbons were braided through her thick hair, swooping around the knot, twisting through her own curls and holding the hairstyle together perfectly. Both pretty and practical. 

“I’m glad!” Mira looked very proud of herself, for a good reason. Julie’s lady-in-waiting was definitely a woman to be admired (and feared - she’d taken down a full-grown man in a self defense class, while wearing heels). Julie could walk in heels, even run in them, but she’d tried fighting in them, and failed miserably. She might’ve been competent fighting in regular shoes, but heels were a different story. Mira, though, could do it all. 

Mira’s phone dinged. 

“Oh, Jules, it’s time for the pre-meetup photoshoot!”

“Got it. Thanks, Mira, I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Forget about your photoshoots, probably.”

…

The photoshoot involved lots of candid shots of her in the garden, doing her best to look serene, and not show the anxiety bubbling in her stomach. But somehow, she actually managed to get through it without losing it. 

“Wonderful, miss. Turn towards me, look to your left- yes, perfect.” The photographer’s voice faded as she obeyed his instructions, a human robot running correctly but with wandering thoughts. 

“You look so natural, miss!” he complimented. Julie offered a smile, returning to her thoughts. There had to be a way to get her and Alex out of this. But she couldn’t think of any that wasn’t treasonous, illegal, or flat-out stupid. Of course, as a teenage girl, she felt she deserved to be a little stupid sometimes, but apparently that was “unbecoming of a princess” and “a bad influence.” Personally, she just thought that was biphobic.

-----

Luke POV

...

Luke hadn’t ever traveled much, let alone to a neighboring kingdom, so needless to say, he was pumped to get to visit Dahlia for three months at least. His hope was that, even though no one involved wanted the marriage to happen, they could find a bright side in him getting to stay with his best friend. 

Of course, that didn’t change the fact that he felt bad for his charge and best friend, Alex. He knew Alex was gay; in fact, they’d “dated” for a few weeks when they were fourteen. But even after deciding they were better as friends, they were close, maybe even closer afterwards. Luke told Alex everything; he didn’t know if he had a secret that Alex didn’t know. 

Everyone in the palace was used to seeing him and Alex wandering the grounds, goofing off, messing around in the music studio, what have you. Technically, Luke was a junior guardsman, and given his bond with the prince, had been assigned (along with an actual guard) to be his security detail. That had evolved into an even stronger friendship, though. Years passed, and soon they were inseparable. 

Luke had done his best to cheer up Alex; seeing his best friend that upset was heartbreaking. But there was nothing he could actually do to help, so he settled for laying next to Alex on the floor and staring at the high ceilings.

An hour passed, and soon the afternoon sun was streaming into Alex’s room. Luke saw Alex drag a hand down his face. 

“I guess you should start getting ready, then?” he asked.

“Probably.” Luke patted his shoulder. “Do you think it would be too drastic to fake my death?” Luke laughed, knowing Alex was joking, though it wouldn’t have actually surprised him. Alex and Julie were friends, but neither of them wanted to get married. Especially not the gay guy, very publicly, to a girl. 

Luke stood up, giving Alex a mock salute, and walked out the door, closing it behind him. 

He stood there for a few minutes, straightening his back as a senior guardsman passed him. He ducked his head in a nod, relaxing a moment later. As much as he might’ve come off as a chill guy, he was worried for Alex; even more so when he heard Alex’s breathing quicken from the other side of the wall, his footsteps pacing back and forth. 

The panic attack shouldn’t have surprised him. Alex had clinical anxiety, and this was probably one of the most stress-inducing times of his life. Being forced into an arranged marriage - even if you’re friends with the other person - is no fun for anybody. And today he would be going to the Dahlia palace to stay for three months before the ceremony.

Luke fiddled with the hem of his jacket; it was charcoal black, and thick and protective, with eight buttons on the wide front, crossing his chest. He’d gotten used to it, but despite that, he still started sweating in the warm weather of Tambor. The red sash crossing over the jacket had golden embroidery on the edges, and he quite enjoyed running his fingers over the textured thread. 

Luke could still hear Alex panicking, but there were no sets of three fake sneezes in between the rapid breaths, so he stayed. Alex was able to recognize when he needed support, and when he needed to be left alone. 

Luke spotted Erik nearing him. He couldn’t stop him, but Erik was aware of Alex’s anxiety, so Luke wasn’t concerned. He smiled at Erik, giving him a look, warning him that Alex was having a panic attack. Erik nodded, knocking gently on the door. 

“Your highness, are you alright?” When Alex didn’t respond, Luke jumped in. 

“He’s a little panicky at the moment. Maybe give him a few minutes to settle?” Erik nodded, and Luke gave a relieved smile. 

“You look nervous as well,” Erik noted. 

“Well, I am, a little bit,” Luke admitted. “I’ve never been to Dahlia, but I’m going with Alex since I’m his head guard and Royal Best Dude™.” Erik grinned. “I’m excited, though! I bet it’ll be a lot of fun.”

“I’m so jealous,” Erik told him. “I’ve never been outside of Tambor.”

“I’m worried for Alex, though. He’s really nervous.”

“Yeah,” Erik agreed, a flicker of understanding rushing across his face that made Luke smile despite himself. If he was being honest, Luke had a tiny crush on Erik, but nothing substantial. “I mean, it’s gotta suck being closeted to everyone but a few people, and having to marry a girl.” Luke nodded. 

“I wish there was something we could do about it.”

…

Luke stood guard off-camera while Alex had his pre-meetup photoshoot and interview. It was what he always did, though this time it felt different, like he was a silent supporter during a tough time, now more than ever. 

If nothing else, he could reassure Alex that he looked fabulous in his suit - it wasn’t a lie, either. The navy blue fabric complimented his eyes perfectly, and the golden details were a stunning addition. Tie that with his sharp jaw and awkward, endearing personality? Anybody would simp for him. He had a feeling that many people did, too; Some of Alex’s best photos from these shoots would be printed in the Tambor Times Magazine, and he would also post some - as well as his own selfies - on his instagram. Luke had seen the comments, and always smirked at Alex given the amount of heart-eyed emojis and key smashes there were. 

Luke stood behind the cameraman for the candid shots where they needed Alex to be smiling or laughing. No matter how much he practiced, Alex could never get a good candid smile, so Luke took it upon himself to stand behind the photographer making faces, or occasionally imitating their every move with mock seriousness. 

When Alex’s musical laugh rang through the air, Luke patted himself on the back. 

Worked every time. 

He worked his magic for a few more shots afterwards, doing his best to make Alex laugh. It wasn’t just for the photos, though, it was to help him settle down. Luke knew this was a horrible situation, but there was nothing he could do to stop it, so he’d have to try to make it more bearable. 

After Alex’s interview, Luke could tell that the reality of the situation was hitting him even more, as a flicker of fear shadowed his face, his hands clenched into fists. Luke walked towards him slowly, making sure Alex was okay with it, and when he didn’t retract, he put his hand on his shoulder and gave a reassuring squeeze.

“It’ll be okay,” he promised. And as Alex seemed to relax, nodding and pulling Luke into a hug, that was when he knew.

Alex was his best friend, and didn’t deserve any of this pain or fear. He deserved for things to be okay.

Luke would keep that promise, no matter what.

-----

Reggie POV

...

Reggie knew he was Princess Julie’s honorary older brother; it had been that way for years, after he ran away from his own pathetic excuse for a home. He was lucky King Ray was a kind man; he could’ve just as easily left him there where he’d found him, a nine-year-old in the street of the raining Dahlia capital city. But he’d taken Reggie in, and soon, Reggie was part of the royal family, even if not by blood. 

Now, given that he was Julie’s honorary older brother, he hated that she was being put into an arranged marriage. She was eighteen, for God’s sake! Reggie was nineteen, and knew for a fact he wouldn’t have been able to handle it nearly as gracefully as she did. Then again, while she was young, playful, and vibrant, Julie was also the epitome of grace and poise; she’d grown up in a palace, after all. 

Needless to say, though, Reggie was sure he wouldn’t be able to not be protective of Julie when Prince Alexander came. He’d met him before, but only briefly; in passing after dinner during visits, mostly. It did help Reggie’s nerves to remember that Alexander was a very sweet, reserved person from his own interactions with the man. But that was his little sister, and while she wasn’t completely devastated, Reggie knew she didn’t want it to happen. 

He dragged a hand down his face, flopping down on his bed. He wanted so badly to help Julie out of this, but he couldn’t. 

Hey, at least he could cheer her up with his jokes! She always said they were awful, but Reggie knew better. Only the finest of jokes could make Her Royal Highness, Princess Julie Molina of Dahlia, laugh until her sides hurt, even coming from her honorary older brother, Sir Reginald Molina. 

He smiled to himself. He might not be able to stop this whole predicament, but he could help her through it.

Reggie hopped up, fixing his suit. The silky red fabric of the vest hadn’t creased at all, nor had his grey suit pants, and yet he still felt the need. He did, however, roll the sleeves of his black dress shirt to expose his forearms, because come on. Even with Dahlia’s cool climate, he still got hot, especially when the sun was streaming through his windows, and he had a few photos outside before Prince Alexander’s arrival. Plus, it didn’t hurt that, according to his Instagram followers, the rolled sleeves made him look “personable” and “hotter than the sun.” 

Reggie ran a finger over the shimmering black embroidery of the vest, then winking at the mirror and pulling his best finger guns. It was his god-given right as a fancy bisexual. 

He ran his hand through his expertly-styled hair, letting some of his waves free from their stiff hold. It wasn’t the perfect style it had been when his butler styled it a couple hours ago, but it was more of his own style, which he liked a bit better. Spinning on his heel and slipping a hand in his pocket, Reggie walked out his door and down the light-filled corridor, down to the front steps, waving to Mira along the way. As he stepped outside, he heard people outside of the palace gates start shouting. He gave a wink and playful salute, even daring to blow a kiss in the general direction of a cute girl. He noticed Julie rolling her eyes, the photographer seizing the moment to take some shots of him on the palace steps. 

He jogged over to Julie, wrapping his arm around her. 

“How are you doing, your highness?”

“I’m doing okay,” she said, though both of them knew it was a lie. “How about you, Reg?”

“I’m okay as well. Just popping in to see my fangirls-” he winked at the crowd behind the gate, and a chorus of teenage girls (and a few boys) all sighed dreamily- “and check on you. We both know you’re lying.” Julie groaned.

“This whole thing just sucks.”

“Tell me about it,” he agreed. “But I’ll be here for you every step of the way. You know that, right dude?”

“You’re such a sappy loser,” she told him, and he put her in a playful headlock, posing for the camera.

“I know.” Reggie might’ve been a “sappy loser” of a brother, but he knew that, in Julie’s book, he was a sappy loser (affectionate), and that she understood that he was there for her. 

Hopefully that would be enough. 

-----

Willie POV

...

Willie had never actually gotten to know Princess Julie, but he’d met her a couple times. He was a chef in the palace kitchens, and on occasion, Julie would come down to try to get to know people. He’d never truly had a long conversation with her, but in the interactions they’d had, she was kind, and had a musical air to her. 

He’d seen pictures of the prince she was set to marry, Prince Alexander of Tambor. If Willie was being honest, he was kind of cute.

Okay, really cute. 

He’d never actually met the guy, but he seemed nice. His photos on Instagram had good vibes, at least. Willie couldn’t help but hope he’d get to meet him when he came to visit. If it was just because his brain was screaming cute boy, that was nobody’s business but his. 

Willie sprinkled more flour on the dough he was kneading, folding it in some more. It was cathartic, this repetitive motion. It helped calm his ADHD sometimes. He kept going.

Sprinkle. Fold. Roll.

Sprinkle. Fold. Roll.

Kneading the dough until it wasn’t sticky, he listened to the head chef, Lilian, shout orders at the rest of them. She was a very intimidating woman, tall and muscular, with raven black hair in a sleek ponytail, and fair skin flecked with flour. But she was quite kind, Willie had come to learn over the years. She was just one of those people who scared you if you didn’t know them. 

He put the dough in a pan, setting it in the oven and flicking on the light so he could monitor its progress, as could anyone else walking by. Wiping the flour from his hands to his apron, he then put his dishes and utensils in the giant dishwasher, finally washing his hands and grabbing a new bowl. 

Tonight was the welcome feast for Prince Alexander. Willie and a few others were in charge of baking loaves of bread for the appetizers, as well as making the desserts; today, mini chocolate mousse cakes. 

Dessert was always Willie’s favorite course to prepare, and not just because he could steal bits of frosting from the spatulas after he was finished. It was also because of how making desserts seemed to put everyone in the kitchens in a good mood. Maybe it was the smell of rising sugar, or the bright colors of the tubs of sprinkles, but he adored it. 

He cracked the eggs into the mixture of butter and sugar, adding the milk and flour soon after. As he poured in the cocoa powder, a little bit poofed up, creating a chocolatey cloud. The noise of the mixture did nothing to silence his racing thoughts, though. 

Would he get to meet Prince Alexander?

Would he like him?

And most importantly, why did he want to so badly? 

Willie shook his head, doling the batter into mini cake pans and tapping them on the counter to get rid of any air bubbles, sticking them in an oven after it beeped to temperature. 

Another oven beeped.

“Hey, Alyssa?” he called to a plump woman a few meters away. “Could you check on the bread in that oven to your right?” She nodded and leaned down, giving him a thumbs up.

“Probably needs another minute or so, but it looks great.”

“Sick, thanks!” Alyssa nodded and smiled, her dyed-purple hair shimmering in its bun. 

Willie grabbed the ingredients he would need for the mousse, arranged them on the counter, then jogged over to the other oven and pulled out the bread - without putting on oven mitts.

He hissed in pain but didn’t let go, quickly putting it on the stovetop and running to a sink to run his fingers under cold water.

Willie already had tons of scars and calluses on his hands, both from cooking and skateboarding on his off-days, so the burn didn’t hurt nearly as bad as it would’ve a few years ago. And by some miracle, it didn’t blister - though it did swell and turn red. Willie cursed under his breath, heading to the first-aid kit and smearing some ointment on it and covering it with a bandage. 

“Let me guess,” said Lilian from behind him. “You forgot oven mitts again?”

“Guilty,” he said with a grin. Lilian sighed, but didn’t manage to hide her smile. 

“Willie, you need to be more careful. I know your brain always has, like twenty thoughts going at all times, but you could hurt yourself.”

“Twenty-three,” he corrected. “And I know, but you only live once, and I didn’t want the bread to burn.”

“Five seconds to grab a mitt wouldn’t burn the bread.”

“Hey, there’s a first time for everything.” Lilian rolled her eyes and gently swatted him on the shoulder. It wasn’t a mean move, of course, it was her saying she was exasperated but that she cared about you. Willie laughed and went back to his mixing bowl, getting ready to prepare the mousse.

This would be perfect.

[cowardnthief]

Alright, I am curious. Why is Jonny Cade queercoded and what queer subtext was there in their relationship with Ponyboys? 👀

TW: mentions of abuse, violence, death, murder

also spoilers for the outsiders!! (i mean it is a 60 year old book, but still)

-------

OOH OKAY OKAY

(In all honesty, I could probably do a whole essay on this, but I'll keep it brief-ish.)

Bit of background on The Outsiders: It's a book written in the early 60s that focuses on the class divide between the rich Socs (Socials) and the working-class greasers (like, "hoods", criminals), or rather the people within each of those groups who don't feel like they fit into the binary.

Ponyboy is the protagonist of the novel. He and Johnny are both greasers and part of a gang with a few others, including Ponyboy's two older brothers and three other boys.

Let's start with Johnny. Johnny is extremely queer-coded in his own right. He's described early on as timid, shy, weak and maybe a little feminine. He's seen as the gang's "pet" and the youngest, despite being sixteen to Ponyboy's fourteen. His friends are very fond and protective of him. A lot of this behaviour comes from his trauma, being abused by his parents as well as beaten nearly to death by a Soc named Bob. However, it also falls into an archetype of stereotypical queer characters. Writing male characters in this way is a way of subtly telling an audience that they are queer. This probably wasn't done intentionally, but should be kept in mind.

Johnny's character development involves him becoming more masculine, almost. The final important act he does in the book is save children from a burning building. Ponyboy comments on the fact that he seemed braver, louder etc in that moment, all traits associated with masculinity, which is 1) a strange reaction to the situation, especially for Johnny, and 2) exactly the kind of narrative standpoint one would take to show that femininity (or queerness) is bad.

Now for Ponyboy - his queer-coding is more subtle at times, and a little different. He isn't timid or shy or scared or feminine like Johnny. (However, he does once say that he "didn't care too much for girls yet", but that his brother said he would grow out of it. This is particularly strange, considering he is fourteen already.) Early on, it's established that he feels like an outsider within his own group. He doesn't really feel like a greaser, or act like one. He likes things that greasers don't like. He watches movies, he reads, he likes to see the sunset. He considers himself different, or "other", and he feels as if he can't talk about it. His friends just wouldn't get it.

A large part of the book, in my opinion, is Ponyboy finding other "outsiders", like Cherry and Johnny. (Cherry being a Soc while Johnny is another greaser.) All three of them talked once, while at a drive-in, Ponyboy finding a particular connection with Cherry despite her not being the only girl there. They all have the same sense of feeling “other”, and not being able to talk about it for fear of being judged.

Now for Johnny and Ponyboy’s relationship, which...oh boy. Some of it is just scenes like this, which feel very queer, outright:

“‘Guess I look okay now, huh, Johnny?’

He was studying me. ‘You know, you look an awful lot like Sodapop, the way you’ve got your hair and everything. I mean, except your eyes are green.’

‘They ain’t green, they’re gray,’ I said, reddening. ‘And I look about as much like Soda as you do.’ I got to my feet. ‘He’s good-looking.’

‘Shoot,’ Johnny said with a grin, ‘you are, too.’”

Not to mention the whole chapter they spend literally just acting like a domestic gay couple while they’re on the run, just the two of them, from the police. There’s also this conversation they have while watching the sunrise in this chapter (which I’ll talk more about later once I get to the symbolism), in which they talk about being outsiders. Here are a few quotes from that:

“‘You know,’ Johnny said slowly, ‘I never noticed colors and clouds and stuff until you kept reminding me about them. It seems like they were never there before.’”

“‘Well, Soda kinda looks like your mother did, but he acts just exactly like your father. And Darry is the spittin' image of your father, but he ain't wild and laughing all the time like he was. He acts like your mother. And you [Ponyboy] don't act like either one.’”

“‘You [Johnny] ain't like any of the gang. I mean, I couldn't tell Two-Bit or Steve or even Darry about the sunrise and clouds and stuff. I couldn't even remember that poem around them. I mean, they just don't dig. Just you and Sodapop. And maybe Cherry Valance.’

Johnny shrugged. ‘Yeah,’ he said with a sigh. ‘I guess we're different.’

‘Shoot,’ I said, blowing a perfect smoke ring, ‘maybe they are.’”

(Honestly, can my whole argument just be that one quote? “I guess we’re different.” // “Shoot. Maybe they are.” Queer stuff, huh?)

Later in the book, when Johnny is in the hospital, Ponyboy stresses again and again that he can’t think about him dying, that he can’t fathom a life without him. Everyone in the group is fond of Johnny, but Ponyboy acts like Johnny’s death would destroy him.

When Johnny is dying, he asks to see Ponyboy. His last words are to Ponyboy, despite Dally also being in the room. One of the other last things he does is write a letter to Ponyboy.

Johnny is also the first person Ponyboy runs to when his older brother hits him early in the book.

When Johnny dies, Ponyboy falls into denial, pretending and convincing himself that Johnny isn’t dead, because he couldn’t handle the grief. He says the reason that he doesn’t go insane with it, like Dally does, is because Johnny isn’t the only thing he loves.

This isn’t nearly all of it, but this post is already long as fuck, and I want to talk about some of the metaphors and symbols too.

Symbol #1: The hair

The is a more obvious one, as the author clearly intended it to be a metaphor, although probably not for something queer. When Johnny and Ponyboy go on the run after Johnny killed a Soc in self-defence, the two of them have to cut off their hair. This is obviously a big deal to them, especially Ponyboy, because they’re proud of their hair - it’s a symbol of the greasers, of rebellion, and it’s one of the last things they have that tie them with their gang back in the city. However, having Johnny and Ponyboy specifically cut off their hair feels like more of a symbol of them severing their ties to the greasers. They feel like outsiders within their own group already, and this is a way of showing that they’re leaving it behind, or starting to. (Shedding symbols of comphet, you know.)

Symbol #2: Sunrises and sunsets

Johnny, Cherry and Ponyboy, three characters who are outsiders within their own community, all spend time watching sunrises or sunsets. It’s one of the things that Ponyboy and Cherry bond over and talk about. Johnny and Ponyboy also watch a sunrise while they’re on the run. It’s a small thing that unites the three of them and becomes almost a symbol of their “otherness”, and thus, queercoding enters the chat. Also, the sunrise that Ponyboy and Johnny watch can symbolise the “beginning” of their relationship, as they start to see each other in a different light. 

Symbol #3: Gone with the Wind

When Johnny and Ponyboy are on the run, Ponyboy buys the book Gone with the Wind from a corner store. They read it together. The book is an idealised story of the southern, free, country life. Johnny makes comments about how the men in the book are charming and gallant and he admires them. The book symbolises both what Ponyboy and Johnny wish they could be, like happy and free and rich (and straight and masculine), and what they are, or what they’re starting to find with each other while in the countryside. When Johnny is in the hospital, he asks for a copy of the book to read. It’s one of his last requests. In my opinion, he asked for it both to remember Ponyboy and to escape to a reality where he wasn’t young and dying, to one where he was still with Ponyboy on the run, or one like in the book where none of this happened at all. The book is integral to their relationship.

Symbol #4: The poem

When Ponyboy and Johnny are watching the sunrise in the church, Ponyboy recites a poem by Robert Frost:

Nature’s first green is gold,

Her hardest hue to hold,

Her early leaf’s a flower,

But only so an hour.

Then leaf subsides to leaf,

And Eden sank to grief.

So dawn goes down to day.

Nothing gold can stay.

At the time, the two of them both say that they don’t understand the poem. When Johnny dies later in the book, his last words to Ponyboy are to “stay gold”. In the letter he wrote for Ponyboy, which Ponyboy reads later, he says that he now understands the poem.

“I’ve been thinking about it, and that poem, that guy that wrote it, he meant you’re gold when you’re a kid, like green. When you’re a kid, everything’s new, dawn. It’s just when you get used to everything that it’s day. Like the way you dig sunsets, Pony. That’s gold. Keep that way, it’s a good way to be.”

Oh boy, there’s a lot to say about this poem.

First of all, the poem symbolises what Ponyboy gave Johnny - a new outlook on life. A lens with which to see more beautiful things. Johnny said that he hadn’t really appreciated sunsets or clouds before Ponyboy pointed them out to him.

Secondly, the meaning of the poem. When you consider Johnny’s interpretation, also taking into account what sunsets and sunrises etc. mean in this book, it’s possible that the “gold” phase is Ponyboy’s acceptance of himself. Ponyboy loves Johnny. He knows he’s different, and while he doesn’t shout it from the rooftops, he’s happy with it in his own way. He finds other people like him, queer, like Cherry and Johnny.

However, the poem’s whole meaning is that nothing gold can stay. That’s the message we’re left with, even with Johnny’s insistence of “staying gold”. It could honestly be referring to an array of things - perhaps Johnny himself, or life in general (given the amount of death in this book), or youth. Obviously, this whole post is about the queer undertones in the outsiders, so one could argue that it’s about a queer youth experience, especially in the past - finding someone like you, someone you love, but it not lasting forever, and it being especially difficult to find again, given the circumstances.

In the end, Johnny dies, but he leaves Ponyboy with all the things that remind him of him - sunsets, sunrises, Gone with the Wind, stargazing. And ultimately, I think that’s the “gold” that the book is referring to.

[save-the-spiral]

PLS PLS LIST THE SWAPS!! TELL ME ABOUT THE SIBLINGS AND ALSO HIFUMI BECAUSE I LOVE HIM (IF YOU WANT!) I will also send more questions in the morning too, excited to see what you’ve been working on!!

OK OK OK !!!!! AHH! So, before assigning talents, I swapped the pools, so for the first game, I use the talents from the second game, and vis versa! For some i listed gender, sexuality, or neurodivergencies, though this isn’t all of them, and I haven’t developed them all to the same level!

This is SO long. I didn’t even bother mentioning things like my plans for the killing games. (I have DR1 planned out in full, but only parts of DR2 and the v3 anime)

THANK YOU FOR THE ASK MY HEART SKIPPED A BEAT IN HAPPINESS WHEN I SAW I HAD NEW ASK NOTIFS!!

LIST:

Trigger Happy Havoc (first game)

Kyoko Kirigiri- Ultimate Luckster- Mastermind (: Sometimes lesbians can be evil okay! was trained as a detective like everyone in her family and didn’t get the ultimate :) she’s definitely not mad about that :) her luck cycle depends on how far she plans things ahead. her good luck is when she’s spontaneous! She hates when ‘normal’ people are accepted by ultimates.

Makoto Naegi- Photographer (Mostly wildlife and nature photography, with Sayaka helping him for some animal photography (: trans and bi <3 One of sayaka’s birds nests in his hair like all the time)

Kiyotaka Ishimaru- Ultimate Swordsman (AUTISTIC ICON, has trained in kendo since he was a kid, then was essentially given away to the Fujisaki clan by his very stressed dad. Semiverbal, rarely speaks.)

Chihiro Fujisaki- Ultimate Yakuza (Taka is her bodyguard! His family is in debt to hers, the Fujisaki clan is the most powerful in Japan. trans icon, of course, dates Sayaka! Very direct, though she’s far more delicate and polite when talking to taka, her best friend)

Sakura Oogami- Ultimate Nurse (Works as an EMT- her clan still is in martial arts, so she’s still very buff, she assists in injuries at the family dojo. Autistic Icon)

Asahina Aoi- Ultimate Gamer (ULTIMATE ADHD. streams and has a ton of fun, will ramble while breaking records, demigirl who loves her girlfriend sakura :)

Mukuro Ikusaba- Ultimate Chef (Works best with ‘cheap’ food, and making them taste good. a byproduct of growing up on the streets with junko, and junko being bored of the same old food they dug out of the trash. now works closely with junko for her teams’ nutritional needs! autistic and sapphic.)

Junko Enoshima- Ultimate Team Manager (there are SO many sports she can never get bored, and the professional scene is always changing! prefers coaching womens’ teams, because being an ultimate brings them more publicity and usually higher pay :)

Mondo Oowada- Ultimate Prince (OH MY BOY. trans adhd icon. now the crown prince of Novoselic, with a reagent in his place until he comes of age. His service dog Chuck is a maltese and an absolute sweetheart. Chihiro takes him under her wing to teach leadership. also dates taka later OF COURSE, though they’re poly and I may add more ppl to their relationship later.)

Celestia Ludenburg- Ultimate Musician (specializes in violin, most strings, though she can play any instrument. grew up poor, dedicated herself to an instrument and persona to cope)

Byakuya Togami- Ultimate Musician (Yep. two musicians. two catty trans gay icons about to throw down. they HATE each other and grew up as rivals. specialize in classical, they literally tore a professional orchestra full of grown adults apart trying to make them side with who was the best musician. they’re so good that they’re matched, and Hope’s Peak accepts them as one student and combined ultimate. they room together. they fight. Literally if one of them gets expelled, the other does too, so they’re STUCK. eventually they become literally inseparable and insufferable together like the WORST siblings. I love them.)

Sayaka Maizono- Breeder (animal handler) (Specializes in birds!!!!!! has songbirds on her shoulders all the time. will give unsettling animal facts without realizing they’re unsettling. sends her songbirds to serenade chihiro when they start dating <3)

Yasuhiro Hagakure- Gymnast (you see this tall goof who acts like an older brother to everyone and wonder HOW he’s a gymnast. he’s completely different in competitions, though still lighthearted. becomes a big brother figure to mukuro and junko especially <3 also trans bc i say so.)

Leon Kuwata- Traditional Dancer (he just. kinda hates it. it takes SO much work and effort but he takes to it naturally. his cousin kanon is NOT like in canon, instead she’s helpful. he’d literally rather be doing anything else. doesn’t know how to do anything like... basic either. can’t cook. cant do his own laundry. everything was dedicated to traditional japanese dancing before he attended HPA.)

Toko Fukawa- Engineer (writes schematics and is very good at it. gets VERY upset when her plans go wrong. her notes are orderly and perfect. host for their system!)

Syo- Mechanic (a factive of genocider syo, NOT an actual killer. she’s a protector mainly, and also is more adept at hands on skills when it comes to fixing things, her hands are less shaky. Her notes are a disaster and she does it to spite Toko.)

Hifumi Yamada- (???) (reserve course) Protagonist! My BOY. HIFUMI IS GOOD OKAY. He’s autistic and loves anime and gaming! he’s not particularly ultimate-leveled at them, or anything else! Attending Hope’s Peak as a reserve course student! At one point he joins the student council as a reserve course representative even if he’s only a freshman :) He’s also a moderator in Hina’s livestream chat, under the username of JusticeHammer, fastest ban hammer this side of the internet. He's internet friends with hina and sakura, and doesn’t realize Oh We Go To the same SCHOOL until he bumps into them. and realizes hina doesnt know what he looks like. but sakura does. its hilarious. he’s aroace, and during the year they’re locked in HPA, is in a queer platonic partnership with Hina and Sakura, while they’re dating each other. it’s great.)

Goodbye Despair! (second game)

Peko Pekoyama- Lucky student (ohohoh. her luck relies on her conviction. if she has doubts her bad luck strikes HARD. trans!, was taken in by Fuyuhiko’s family when she was a baby, grew up as just another kid in the family. They all expected Fuyu to go off to HPA on his own and then BOOM acceptance letter)

Fuyuhiko Kuzuryu- Programmer (He. gets so angry while coding. He has an array of rubber ducks to talk to and work through his coding issues with. trans of course. Very protective of Peko when people say she doesn’t have a ‘real’ ultimate. ADHD and Autistic)

Sonia Nevermind- Writer (Literary Girl) (Her family immigrated to Japan when she was young! She writes a lot of serial killer novels, murder mysteries and horror and all that! Trans and bi :)

Gundham Tanaka- Detective (YEAH my guy is a detective. still talks Like That. Trans and bi and he and Sonia were kinda-dating (t4t autistic power couple in the making) when things started happening. He spends some time with his cool older sister who he looks up to a LOT. He and Sonia talk through things together a lot, they both have those red string walls, one for murder cases, another for a fictional plot lmao.)

Mahiru Koizumi- Moral Compass (my GIRL. autistic. Her morals rely a lot on people taking responsibility and being reliable, and she ends up having to work through some biases she didn’t realize she had when she arrived at HPA. Is still protective of Hiyoko, though that protectiveness is spread a bit thinner to extend to the rest of the class.)

Hiyoko Saionji- Clairvoyant!!! (HI YES I COULD TALK ABOUT HER FOR DAYS. Has actual visions in dreams and when she suddenly faints, but doesn’t really realize they’re uhh Real Visions for a WHILE. uses her status as an ultimate clairvoyant to trick and bully kids when in school for a LONG time, though her homelife wasn’t great with her grandmother trying to find ways to make her visions more consistent. SHES ALSO 12 WHEN SHE JOINS THE 77TH CLASS. she’s just so advanced in academics and her ultimate is so interesting hope’s peak cant HELP but scout her early. she has SO many issues guys no one appreciates hiyoko enough, autistic gifted kid hiyoko my beloved.)

Akane Owari- Gambler (started gambling to help out her family and Got Good at it. is very very conscious of money and food like all the time. Runs the hope’s peak betting pools once she arrives. these ultimates bet on a lot of things. she ALWAYS wins. until she doesnt!!!)

Mikan Tsumiki- Martial Artist (ohhhh Mikan. Still anxious and clumsy (though not like THAT in canon) and literally no one looks at her and thinks Oh The ULTIMATE martial artist?? it isn’t until you see her in the ring that you understand. She started learning self defense as a kid because her (bad) parents essentially said she had to rely on and protect herself and no one else would help.)

Kazuichi Souda- Pop Idol (OH TRANS ICON? he’s nervous and paranoid about Everything still, though now it’s like. oh the entire world is always watching my every move this is Okay (: has the brightest neon album eras. he literally keeps up a like. weird chad persona when interacting with people because he’s masking how hard he’s constantly just internally screaming.)

Nagito Komaeda- Soldier (AHAHAH my mans got issues problems disorder he’s a messssss, this trans guy, this absolute gay. this boy leveled a city of thousands of people with his own hands and some bombs. Still has medical issues, but most of his like. treatments and medicine is hold hostage as long as he stays in line. believes the ends justify the means and anyone who dies to him is obviously weak, because look at him! he’s weak, but that doesn’t matter because he doesn’t have to be the strongest, he just has to be stronger than the weakest scum.)

Chiaki Nanami- Heir (OOF. Agender, uses any pronouns. Doesn’t really. enjoy being the heir. grew up with Byakuya in the same circles. she treats the economy and stock market and stuff like games. enjoys gaming but isn’t good at them. collects so many things. has halls full of collections. Her parents stopped controlling her once she was able to prove she had more money than them and could literally bankrupt them if she wanted.)

Hajime Hinata- Baseball Star (Chiaki’s best friend, his family was upper middle class until he hit it BIG as a baseball star. wants to do BIG things and wants to attend hope’s peak more than anything!! Doesn’t really think of baseball as his THING, just a means to an end! trans :)

Teruteru Hanamura- Biker Gang Leader (started with shaking down some jerks who didn’t pay their food and drink tabs at his mama’s restaurant. now he RUNS their tiny town. His siblings are essentially gang mascots, he works hard to keep them out of trouble (while bringing them to like. meetings where he ends up beating a dude almost to death. its fine). most of what he does it to get more money to keep the restaurant afloat and care for his mama with her health conditions.)

Nekomaru Nidai- Fashionista (the drama. the CHAOS. most people are like ohhh we can never understand this artistic genius when he’s literally just. vibing and has ADHD and a love for coffee. Works a lot on accessible clothing lines for disabled people! Also he and Kazuichi work together sometimes, Nekomaru is good at calming Kaz down and seeing like, the root of whatever problem and making it better. ALSO A TRANS ICON and just flaunts it.)

Imposter- In the hope’s peak days they are impersonating Ryota Mitarai, as a part of the 77th class. In the Killing Game they impersonate Mondo Oowada as the Ultimate Prince. They’re doin’ their best.

Ibuki Mioda- (???) (Izuru Kamakura) Protagonist! Gundham Tanaka’s older sister (though they’re in the same school year). Nonbinary and using just. an array of pronouns alongside she/her, and jokingly fights with gundham for neopronouns like MOM said it’s MY TURN on the rawrself pronouns. She attends the reserve course to stay at her brother’s side. She dresses loudly and acts even louder because !!! she wants to stand out!! in the middle of this drab reserve course hell!!  but when things go down, she wants to be someone, to be worthy of being her amazing brother’s big sister. so she accepts some offers.

NON-KILLING GAME:

Ryota Mitarai- Ultimate Analyst (stays in his room. He’s terrified of the outside world but fascinated by it. watches hope’s peak academy through security feeds, picking up on little details. he just wants to understand things but never looks at the big picture.)

Chisa Yukizome- Ultimate Boxer (Homeroom teacher!! She’s working really hard and believes in everyone! Some are intimidated by talent, but she’s never hurt anyone outside of the ring! Dating Kyosuke)

Juzo Sakakura- Ultimate Student Council President (Has anger issues, though his work at reigning them in assisted in becoming an Ultimate. Was responsible for security and the Hope’s Peak student council. Dating Kyosuke)

Kyosuke Munakata- Ultimate Housekeeper (Meticulous, works himself to the BONE even if he’s good enough to not have to do that. Is working on establishing another Hope’s Peak! Dating Chisa and Jozu!!!)

Seiko Kimura- Ultimate Blacksmith (GIVE MY GIRL KNIVES!! She’s an anxious gal, always wearing a facemask that filters the air in her forge because she has some respiratory problems. she prefers making more decorative pieces like an artist, but sometimes can create utilitarian pieces or tools to fit specific needs. Still a doormat)

Ruruka Ando- Ultimate Pharmacist (She constantly asks Seiko for new tools for her developments in medicine, saying its all for the advancement of humanity, so Seiko denying any request is SELFISH, though she never thinks to make anything for seiko’s health issues. Dating Izayoi. Specializes in medicine for mental health. Not Doing Great :)

Sonosuke Izayoi- Ultimate Confectioner (He loves sweets. LOVES them. Creates things that look plain, ordinary. but taste so GOOD you CRY and maybe ascend for a little bit. sometimes Ando makes cool new drugs to put in the sweets, who knows! It’s a mystery! He always has like. a huge refrigerated case of fresh cakes, and constantly has a lollipop in his own specialty recipe in his mouth.)

[luminous-shifting-vibes]

*sequel* to actual fucking quotes from the shiftblr coffeehouse discord server

once again, it's out of context because x1000 funnier

also x1000 longer than previous post

"ur satan is gnc af"

"Bestie I’m already having gender envy over a fucking demon please"

"O_O ODEPIJHFbavevisdpvfhzdcnjawedsidjksjdkoeirjfmkdsoeirujdksodifjndmksoidfjdksidfj ITS" NOT IN MY FRAFTS IS SPEDNT 1 hour PN THAT SHIT"

"AUGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH"

"ohoho sexy"

"I am very proud of myself"

"himbo x edgy fuck"

"YOU COULD SQUISH HES CHEECKS"

"he has teefs"

"SQUASH"

"good for biting 📷"

"he's a himbo basically"

"B͂̒̄iͫ̍̈tͧ̓ͯè̄̇"

"bifth"

"i havent watched blue exorcist in years but mr okumura my beloved </3"

"MY LIFE QUESTIONS HAVE BEEN ANSWERED"

"is it important information to mention that the person i put up for my turn is the son of satan" "I know like 1 thing about everyone who isnt ranboo lmfao"

"crimes"

"tumblr sexyman"

"idk why but my first thought was cowboy onceler"

"I vibe with him but he is very long and twisty"

"steampunk e-girl"

"steampunk tumblr sexyman"

"Canonically bi crimelord I agree!!"

"OOO FRIEND SHAPED"

"ARTIST SIGHTED"

"they look like someone i would want to be friends with but is way cooler than me so i'd never actually talk to them"

"babby..... would die for him"

"honestly i probably kin him"

"i'm sure he's lovely but he looks way too much like my ex i'm sorry-"

"i'd be down for another rotation! i have another twink to show y'all"

"Also :00 blonde friend"

"Let us all infodhmo"

"Hsjagdvbs shhh im on phone"

"Nix woukd you like to joon?

"skitters away"

"I have two braincells and they both drink dumb bitch juice"

"oof wait whats the order again i have 0 memory"

"i want to bond with him over cosplay-"

"Awkwardly watches in band kid"

"One day I'm gonna a broadway star"

"which isnt to say they were bad. they were just fortnite dancing during rehersals"

"I threw it so hard my glasses flew off and slid under the stage right divider"

"anyway heres my boi"

"emo"

"haha emo"

"virgil sanders kinnie"

"he looks like he listens to my chemical panic at the fallout boy"

"Bro I bet he'd kick my ass with his deck"

"bird man my beloved"

"fuck i had so much to say and then i forgot it all"

"Birds!!"

"guiguhuh"

"crabrave"

"She sounds like someone I would end up stealing her personality"

"yess name collector gang"

"alias glass aiden haven absinthe fish brick rice"

"But I have Cypress, Remure, Genesis, Lemres, and Comet"

"And she's named after a mars candy bar bc alien"

"Hey, if plato went by plato, you can be king thief"

"im not dissing my gramma like that shfojd"

"My dad has seven legal names" "bitches be like *looks at fictional character* *steals their name* it's us we're bithces"

"coraline lowkey traumatized me but i adore it regardless"

"mmmmmm magic man :]"

"°0° green man"

"criminal (affectionate)"

"he would shoplift a candy bar from walmart and then brag to all of his friends about the sick stealing he did"

"despite the fact he's canonically been capable of overpowering a minor deity"

"i would commit so many crimes for him"

"Very babey"

"Yes please tell green man he is very pog"

"he also keeps a lot of dumb secrets"

"but I will sorely miss the chaos and energy of this here chat until I wake again" (by request XD)

"i just say words and if they're funny then they're funny"

"* or extremly chaotic either works"

"at this point we are just taking turns rambling"

"oH--"

"bc my brain has a schedule"

"Hopefully they have gyoza there or I will lose my mind"

"hehe yes spooky man"

"my ghost glucose guardian"

"the head of the undead group that lives there, and we end up dating. (yes I date a ghost, no I will not be taking constructive criticism /lh)"

"ghosts r just inherently sexy"

"i mean im becoming a squid thing so"

"Raven quirk raven quirk!!"

"ł â m p"

"łæmp"

"mothman: ooh lamp you look very nice today! do you come here often? mothman: wait shit no"

"I'd date a ghost"

"mine is still accurate, i am still sobbing (/j)"

"p e e p e e"

""@nick wilde is a tumblr sexyman" is the best thing i have ever seen"

"im sorry im cackling like a dying hyena"

"you're all 12 year olds"

"PEENIE"

"He once caused global warming on accident so he could get a tan"

"god, what a himbo. i love him"

"that reminds me of my friends kin assigned me jesus"

"Man outside of battle be like: princely crying but then in battle hes like: "CATACLYSM! DISASTER! DEVASTATION!" Chill out man"

"Every time I talk about satan it never fails to shock people it's my favorite thing to do"

"im kin assigning him roman sanders" ""Oh yeah he caused global warming because he wanted to get girls" "he what""

"oh damn i forgot satan was straight"

"twink appreciation club"

"give us the twinks"

"my first thought was bottom-"

"so many people to try and get his dad to love him"

"daddy issued"

"OH MY GOD ITS WILBUR"

"Big boy but"

"anyways janus is swagggg"

"........................."

"gib twink"

"give twink then i will share"

"holds him gentle like hamburger"

"This dumb bitch opened a book that said "do not open" and got possessed by a little bastard"

"he is. fragile creachur"

"klug is beauty klug is grace i would let him step on my face"

"If I'm playing swap and I have to hear one more "Pwanet Powew" Im gonna lose it"

"Who is to blame? Pandora or the box?"

"Bakugo isnt my type but I respect the drip"

"i say like my type isnt long-haired pretty boys and girls that look so gnc that people have a history of confusing them for men"

"hes a gremlin and i can appreciate a pretty gremlin"

"that is to say i am attracted to VFlower vocaloid. This is a confession."

"note i am a lesbian"

"You may like Schezo wegey"

"why does he have one single expression"

"soul soul eater passes the vibe check"

"magic wand"

"I Want To Hold His Hand"

"i would commit a war crime for him any war crime idc which one"

"my favorite one is when he sounded rlly gay because he said "Muscular bodies keep me satisfied""

"p e a n u t"

"Klug is a homophobic homosexual its just facts"

"grug from the croods is peak male performance"

"jaw drops to floor, eyes pop out of sockets accompanied by trumpets, heart beats out of chest, awooga awooga sound effect, pulls chain on train whistle that has appeared next to head as steam blows out, slams fists on table, rattling any plates, bowls or silverware, whistles loudly, fireworks shoot from top of head, pants loudly as tongue hangs out of mouth, wipes comically large bead of sweat from forehead, clears throat, straightens tie, combs hair Ahem, you look very lovely."

"tag yourself im the fireworks shooting from the top of the head"

"i like essays"

"central time gang"

"11:11 pog-" (wait... is that a suprise angel number?? yes it is lovelies just for you <3)

"Then again im also a dumbass bitch who wonders what the souls in soul eater taste like. SERIOUSLY THOUGH. THEY LOOK TASTY AS HELL!!!! LIKE GODDAMN BRO YOU'RE MAKING ME FUCKING HUNGRY. Like. that shit- it's Bone Apple motherfucking Teeth. hell yea my guy. Im hongy now.... shlorp I'm seriously considering this. Like. They seem kinda like a liquid? But a solid? Are they like jello? The fuck they taste like my guy???? I keep imagining they're like sour, like sour candy maybe? Or do they taste salty? Sweet? Maybe some combo of two? Do they even have a taste or is it about the texture? The sensation? God my mouth is watering what the hell. I am starving. I think I need to go get a cookie. I'm gonna go get a cookie. Brb. I'm better. I'm still craving souls though. Which is a weird-ass cringey thing to say but I'm being dead-ass rn. They just.... look tasty???? And I wanna eat one. Thus. I am shifting to Soul Eater for the express purpose of satisfying my fucking cravings. enjoy"

"points were made"

"jello? more like helloooo schloooAHFJDSDAIDWNALDHSJKDAIDANDM"

"WAIT I THINK I HAVE AN ANIME GIRL BITING VIDEO TOO"

"anime girl voice: mmm! mm... ahhhhmp!! mmm, mmm... aaahmp!"

"i think it sounds great i'm going to start eating like that"

"several people are typing"

"do these look edible to you"

"forbidden gummies"

"when I was on lsd I couldn't eat my fruit gummies because I thought they were alive because they had little faces on them"

"oh shit yeah don't do drugs"

"anyways general consensus is puyos are edible, ty for your input everyone"

"everypony is a word so powerful it can bring nations to its knees"

"pls the self control it's taking me not to say "hewwo everypony" in gen chat when someone new joins-"

"hewwo evewrypony uwu deaw cewestia i hopwe it doewsnt wain owo"

"ive cooked up a sowution wiwth the knowwege ive acwued. they say a kitcwen time saves niwne, but im just savwing two. Ive gathewwed the inwedients to make a time sowbet. Thewe's hawdly woom fow seconds when the seconds mewt away."

"I had a ten year old sister... you know what happened to her??? very sad, very tragic... she turned eleven....."

"NIIICE"

"Guts dont say the secks word :( /j"

"watch your fucking language in front of the president"

"im so sorry lumi"

"i think you're like ehhhh 8/10 funny"

"now me???? 10/10. Hilarious"

"sometimes i have to take a step back and remember that this is the same guts i follow on tumblr /lh"

""ok every here's some good shifting advice!!! uwu have a good day" "yeah i did lsd and ate fruit gummies""

"i have one setting and it's whatever this is"

"my bitch ass cat just pushed the door open with his fuzzy face and now my sleeping dad is being lulled into dreams by Cosmo Sheldrake's 'Pliocine'."

"me on discord: nick wilde"

"me on tumblr: shifting water! haha funne! me on here: my hermit crabs are cannibals also i want to eat souls."

"im sorry yOUR VIBESA RE JUST SO DIFFERNT"

"u give off older cousin ive never spoken to but always admire at the family gatherings vibes"

"what the fuck"

"BC I HAVE LIBERTU"

"If you adopt me then yes"

"am I qualified for dad jokes???"

"we're all a lot smarter on tumblr"

"I'm like "awww... sweet... sweet little shiftlings... posting such sweet shiftling content... so pure, so wholesome... does not even know abcs....""

"can't think before you speak if you never think B)"

"I'm not responsible enough to be a mom"

"cat pet"

"show us pictures of the cat or i will do Crime"

"maybe thats me being a coward tho"

"MOTH!!!! MOTH MY BELOVED"

if y'all want I can make this a series bc shiftblr keeps giving me more content

[snowe-zolynn-rogers]

Pairings: None

Word Count: 1,544 Words

Summary: Twin trouble and the bakusquad plans to take Touya out shopping.

Warnings: Child Abuse Mention, Death Mention, Homophobia Mentions, Cursing, Injury Mention, Immunocompromised Character, let me know if I should tag anything else.

Notes: Touya’s clothes include links to what they look like.

Hair Dye Buddies: Chapter 3

Learning the basics with his new quirk took to him instantly as he used ways he'd used to watch their father train Shoto with his quirks. The snow felt so calm under his fingertips, the naturality of it far better than the fire that he was born with.

By the end of the class, several snowmen and snow angels had been made and he was very proud with his quick advancement. Everyone seemed happy with his quirk and it made him so eager to please them.

"Tomorrow's training will be more fighting with quirks. I need to get you all ready for the upcoming licensing exam." Aizawa told them on their walk back to class. "Yes, you will be included, Touya. I've spoken to Nezu and all you'll need to do is catch yourself up in your studies and your quirk training, which should be no problem given you take to things so easily. Though yours would be temporary." Aizawa told him.

"This doesn't mean you all will be hurrying to spar with each other tonight, I will put you in detention if you do. Touya, you're allowed to tinker around with your quirk under teacher supervision if you want since, even if you've taken hold of it quickly, it's still brand new to you." Aizawa told him.

Of course, Sir." He nodded, trailing with Shoto.

"So you're officially a UA student, Touya." He was giddy, he'd always wanted to attend UA but father forced him into a no-name school with barely any accountability for their students and had even listed him under their mother's maiden name to keep him away.

"How are Fuyumi and Natsuo?" Touya asked abruptly. Shoto looked bewildered at the sudden conversation shift. Then he realized it might be because Shoto was never allowed around them. He might not know their names, even.

"Sorry, I know you're not even that close to them, us three were so clumped together and you were so much later we never actually bonded together as siblings or anything and you were probably forced away once I was gone so you probably never even knew them." Touya sighed.

"Actually, we're pretty close now. I guess we all realized losing you meant we needed to stick together as much as possible. We even have a group chat without dad. We call it the Endeavor Hate Chat." Shoto smiled and Touya laughed.

"Oh, now you have to show me how much you bash the old man. How old's he now, 45, 46?"

"46. Just turned it like two months ago." Touya gave a chuckle.

"Wow, talk about the timing of that stupid deaging. It's the same time in the year too. I'm starting to think someone put a spell on me like Sleeping Beauty. Come back the same age five years later to torment my little brother." Touya teased.

"I'm not so little anymore. I'm a week older than you." Shoto teased back.

"Oh come on, it's not by much!" Touya exclaimed, getting the class to snicker at their petty argument of age.

"Anyway, how are Natsu and Yumi? You never answered." Touya reminded him.

"Well, Fuyumi's a kindergarten teacher's aid, she's got a secret girlfriend or two and a secret boyfriend too. That woman is pulling too many people at this point. I really have tried to get her to talk to a therapist about her mommy and daddy issues but it isn't really working as you can tell. Natsuo is in college still, becoming a nurse. He has a husband now, they eloped not this summer but the summer before. He's really happy. Both are doing okay. Yumi says she wants kids in the future still and I'm hoping Dad doesn't latch onto it and try to pick her a husband or something to keep 'good quirks' in the family."

Touya smiled knowing his now-older siblings were happy in life. It was all he'd hoped they'd get when he was younger, he couldn't believe they got their happy endings despite his lack of involvement.

"Me, though, I'm going to be a hero just to save people. Unlike his goals for me, I want to be a hero that's a good person as well as a good hero so he won't be giving me the title of Number One, he'll be handing his mantle to part of the next generation he didn't make, likely. And he has a rude awakening if he thinks he'll get his grandchildren to succeed him." Shoto smiled deviously.

"Why?" Touya asked.

"Because he doesn't know I'm gay yet and I won't be giving him biological grandchildren. I plan to adopt kids in need instead. The only children he'll have are Fuyumi's and yours." Shoto proudly stated.

"You say this like I'm not gay too. I'm not having kids." Touya cackled.

"Yumi's got a whole next family generation on her hands then. All the boys can now wipe their hands clean of the reproduction process." Shoto was trying hard not to laugh, so was Touya.

"I ain't never seen four straight siblings. Always three of 'em gotta be gay." Midoriya announced, bursting the whole class into laughter besides the grape-looking gremlin.

"Ew, gays!" The juice gremlin exclaimed, interrupting everyone's fun.

"Shut the fuck up, Mineta." Aizawa instructed the grape gremlin.

"Yes, sir." Mineta agreed.

"I'm glad you ended up bonding with them. I remember being so worried when you were born because the three of us had each other and you were five years younger than us. I was always worried you'd never bond with us."

"Well, you guys were triplets. It's a different bond, I guess." Shoto sighed. "I just know that they were devastated when they heard you disappeared. We all thought you'd run away because the old man never said anything about kicking you out. We thought you'd died on the streets. You have a tombstone in Mom's garden still." Shoto told him.

"They always did joke about burying me in the yard." Touya laughed.

"I'm so glad you get another chance at life. Once we're able to tell Natsuo and Fuyumi, they'll be overjoyed." Shoto butted his shoulder with his own.

"I hope they'll be happy." Touya smiled a bit.

The day was easy after that. He wasn't all that behind in his studies, even excelled a English. During a hero lesson, he got sent to Recovery Girl, who tried to figure out the quirk that caused this and how it worked.

They'd ultimately ended up that this was more than likely permanent now that things had changed from how his life had originally went, especially once he told her of Ryuu and the quirk change. Then she forcefully healed the cuts and burns on his hands and arms from Ryuu and sent him back to class for Math.

The school day was over before he knew it and he was following Bakugou back to the dorms and he went to his own room, it was still bare, just a bed and a desk and a television set up in the corner.

"Hey, Cotton Candy, we're going out, you wanna come?" Bakugou asked.

"I'd be in my school uniform. Aren't we not supposed to wear them when we're not on campus?" He asked.

"We're the same size, just take some clothes. Mina wants to go clothes shopping anyway." Bakugou told him.

"Okay, but I don't have any money." Touya reminded him.

"IcyHot already agreed to let you take your dad's credit card. We're buying you clothes whether you like it or not." Bakugou told him, shoving some clothes at him and he fumbled a second but held them while Bakugou closed his door. "Get dressed! We're leaving in like twenty minutes once Pikachu does his makeup."

Touya was grateful Bakugou had handed him black jeans with cuts on the knees and a baggy black sweater with a skull on it, the comfort of it was astronomical. He put back on the black boots he'd shown up to UA in last night and headed out to Mina in the men's hallway, wolf whistling at him and Sero laughing telling him he fit right in.

"Question, does anyone have a mask I can borrow? My immune system is pretty weak, I got a lot of the weaker genetics in the family so I get sick pretty easy."

"Yeah, man, Shoji has a ton of extra masks." Sero told him. Kirishima was already knocking on Shoji's door for him.

"Hey, man, can Touya borrow a mask, his immune system sucks and we're taking him out shopping."

"Sure, I have some smaller ones my sister sent me a while back that don't fit me." Shoji rummaged a moment and then handed Kirishima a few masks with Halloween themed patterns on them. "Have fun out in the world, Touya." Shoji reminded him.

"I will, thank you, Shoji!" Touya smiled brightly at him as he put on the black mask with the orange and yellow jack'o'lantern pattern.

Being handed Endeavor's credit card by Shoto and told to go wild at the mall was like a fever dream when he used to have to ask and beg for months for new things and then he was made to work himself to the bone for it.

Taglist: @lgbtforeverything @rin-tanaka @everythingisstardust

[maevesdarling]

Take me home tonight

Sooo, I decided to post chapter 1 of the story @unicorn-cloud and I have been cooking up for a while. This plays post series in an alternative universe. There’s mentions of gore and canon typical violence in both this and the second chapter, basically Walt is not dealing with things as good as he thought... I’m not sure how many chapters this story will have, probably around 3 to 4, also please be kind to me it’s been a long time since I uploaded my works to Tumblr, thx!  

Chapter 1: The Call

Later, after he put his gun and badge down and moves further away from the border, Walt gets a call from an unknown number. He contemplates not picking up. It's been years since Kiki's death and operation Leyenda. He thinks, for a moment, that it could be Miguel Angel, calling him from his jail cell to taunt him, but no, he's not important enough to that man and besides, Miguel Angel doesn't wield as much power as he used to.

There are others. New players in this fucked up game, Walt knows that. He saw them rising on the horizon like a looming thunderstorm, ready to destroy the earth in it's path. But for now, he decided to enjoy his peace. His back's been bothering him more as of lately and he's got a few more grey hairs. He quit smoking about a year ago, after his doctor told him to do so. He's had a few setbacks since then, a half finished pack is always hidden underneath his kitchen sink, just in case he needs a fix. But overall, he's trying to stay away from the cigarettes and eat more healthy, even though the microwavable dinners at the supermarket look damn tempting, especially since it's only himself he's cooking for.

He's up in Colorado these days. The DEA was kind enough to leave him with a nice sum of retirement money, probably to shut him up after all the shit he pulled of during his career and to be fair he doesn't blame them.

He buys a nice enough house on the outskirts of town, with some additional property, a rundown barn and an old apple tree orchard that he has no plan on using. The weather's less hot, and there's a few lakes where he can fish, but otherwise, it's pretty much like any other town he's lived in. The dark red sandstones dotting the farmland remind him of Mexico. Of sitting in the hot sun and watching a small airfield in the distance, with a pair of binoculars in his hand. Sal's voice next to him asking about their next move. It's nostalgic in a way.

The first day, after he finished dropping off his stuff in the small, rundown house, he sets off to drive around, get familiar with the place. He finds a shabby bar, a small supermarket, a post office, a family owned diner and a few farms, with cows and hundreds of chickens roaming the surrounding fields, that sell local products. Over time, he ventures out further and discovers some more bars, supermarkets and, to his surprise, a gay club.

It's well hidden, two cities over, wedged between an antique bookstore and a barbershop. It looks nothing like a club from outside, and from the inside, it's hardly distinguishable from any other bar Walt has ever set foot in. But he knows where to look, it's something you learn over time.

The first time he orders a drink, his eyes fall on a guy sitting on the other end of the bar. Dark hair and dark eyes, with a bristly moustache. He's wearing a black cowboy hat and a jeans jacket, it's not what he would have worn. Plus he only looks a slight bit like Sal, his face is much older, more weathered from years of hard work in the sun, but it's enough for Walt to give in to his yearning.

He buys Not-Sal a drink and they fall into an easy chatter. Two hours later, Walt is driving him back to his house. Not-Sal is more experienced than Walt had thought when he starts undressing him with steady hands, his fingers touching in all the right places, he's already prepared, as if he'd been expecting this to happen, and doesn't mind it when Walt accidentally let's Sal's name slip at the height of his pleasure.

They lie together afterwards, sharing a cigarette between them, neither of them ready to leave yet. Walt is slowly falling asleep to the feeling of another person combing their hands through his hair. When he wakes up the next morning, the house is empty. There's a note on his kitchen table, a short thank you message, that's it. Next time he's at the club, Not-Sal is gone. He finds someone else. A different man, with dark hair, dark eyes and a friendly face, and then another and another. Some of the men he brings over are kind, they'll stay the night and sometimes even the morning, to share a quick meal with him before they move on, others leave almost immediately after they finish. Some of them yell out Walt's name as they come, others don't. And some yell out another man's name, but that's okay because so is Walt.

He's careful with the company he keeps. Always making sure that no one sees him leaving the club with another man, driving different routes back home and of course he's always stocking up on enough condoms because he's not stupid, he knows how important protection is.

Even though he's had a few men over, none of them return for longer than a couple of times. Its fun, to fill the mornings with senseless chatter, and to fall asleep in another person's arms. But they're not Sal.

He's longing for him. Even after all those years he's still longing for him. It's been three, almost four years since he last heard from Sal. He was moving to San Francisco. The DEA wanted someone new up there and Sal was growing tired of the shit hole they had placed him in after Mexico. They had called each other almost everyday, sometimes they would even meet each other, for a quick chat and an even quicker fuck. There was never enough time.

Sal wanted to call him back, he promised, once he was in San Francisco, to call him every day. Write a postcard. But nothing came. The telephone was silent for two whole months and Walt was desperate. First, he checked the newspapers for any missing or recently deceased people, when that search came up empty, he started to search the phone book for Sal's new address but of course that came up empty as well. He kept buying new phone books, just in case and by now, there was a small bookcase filled with old phone books in his house, and not a single one held an address for Sal Orozco. It was almost like he never exited. Only Walt's memory kept him from going insane. The fading photos on his wall, the one he kept in his wallet, next to a picture of Greg and his family. One of Sal's shirts he forgot in Walt's apartment in Texas, it had long stopped smelling of him, but nevertheless, Walt would pick it up and inhale deeply, thinking that the ghost of Sal's smell was still there, etched into the fabric. He slept with the shirt, on those nights when he woke up drenched in sweat, screaming and with a thundering heart. He wrenched his eyes open but he saw them anyway, Amat, Ossie, Danilo, sometimes even Kiki. He saw them die, he saw their bodies, bruised, burned, riddled with bullets, standing in front of his bed, he could hear them calling out his name. "You killed us, Walt." They'd point at him, blood dripping from their fingertips onto his bedsheets. Those nights were the worst. Sometimes they could only be stopped with an entire bottle of whiskey.

The dreams had gotten better since he found the dog. The dog didn't have a name. He was a stray, with dark, golden fur and dirty white paws. He picked him up on his way home from an unsuccessful night at the club, the dog was covered in ticks and fleas, one eye had been badly bruised and he was tied to a tree by the side of the road. Clearly abandoned. He expected the dog to bark at him, or worse, bite him, when he kneeled down beside him to untie him, but instead, it sat down in front of Walt and started wagging it's tail, as if he'd known Walt all his life. He took the dog in and gave it a bath, making sure that no ticks or fleas survived, before driving him to the vet the next morning to check out his eye. The vet couldn't save it and so Walt decided to take him in, just another broken thing keeping his company.

He put a collar on the dog and called him his, they slept in the same bed and sat on the couch together, watching football games and stupid action movies. The dog went fishing on the lake with him, even though he was no big help in catching the fish, he also liked to run around the orchard and sit on the front porch to sleep, and Walt liked to sit beside him and think, scratching behind his fluffy ears. Sometimes he wondered if Sal liked dogs. What he'd say if he met his dog.

The other animals were intentional. Walt bought a couple of chickens to sell their eggs at the local farm, and to keep himself busy. Then he renovated the old barn as best as he could and bought three goats to sell their meat, but once he saw them in their pen, he decided they weren't going to the slaughter house and kept them for their milk instead. He also fixed up the orchard as best as he could and started collecting the apples. Soon the onslaught of apples was too much for him to handle and so he collected them in a few boxes, along with the chicken eggs and sold them to the nearest farm. Surprisingly, the people around town started knowing him once he started visiting the farm more frequently. He would have regular conversations with some of them and at some point, even started looking forward to see them. He didn't go to the town hall meetings, or to Sunday mass, and the people had been weary of him, but once they saw him with his dog and the boxes of apples in his trunk, they warmed up to him.

He enjoyed his new life. It wasn't luxurious, but that wasn't what he wanted for himself anyway. He was no Miguel Angel. He didn't need a fleet of private planes and a couple of hotels to be happy.

The phone rang again and reminded him of his current situation. The dog had stopped wagging it's tail on the couch beside him and was looking at him with his one eye, almost as if he was saying "what are you waiting for?"

And so Walt picked up the phone, fully expecting Jamie or Ed or someone else from the DEA to yell at him to get his ass back to Mexico.

"Hello... is this Walt Breslin?" The phone slipped from his grasp and fell, he caught it in his suddenly sweaty palms, pressing the shell back against his ear. Three years silence could not erase the memory of that voice. Hushed conversations between them, hiding behind a parked car as they watched over a suspect, a gasp and then a low moan, while Walt kept hitting that one spot inside him, that set Sal's body on fire, a chatty conversation over two mugs of steaming coffee in a diner that ended with both of them laughing hysterically. Walt had enough memories for an entire lifetime with that voice, he would recognize it anywhere.

"Sal-" He breathed, rearranging the phone against his ear.

"Is- Walt is that you? Oh my god- fuck- I found you!" There was a short pause on the other end of the phone and for a moment Walt thought he was imagining things, then Sal's voice returned. "I- I'm sorry, Walt. I'm so sorry-" He sobbed, apologizing over and over.

"Sal- How did you find me? Wh- Are you alright? Is- do you need help?"

"No, no, I'm fine, Walt. I am. I just- fuck- I missed you so much. Where are you? I called you're old address so many times- I thought something happened to you…"

"Shh, I'm okay. I'm in Colorado. Small town near Denver. I'll give you the address… That is… If you want me to…"

"Yes! I mean... yes I want- I want to see you. If that's okay. I need to- need to know you're okay."

He contemplated with himself wether to ask this or not, but in the end, Walt did it anyways. "It's been three years, Sal. Why did you never call? What's changed?" Another sobb from the other end of the line. "I'll tell you. In person. Friday? Is that okay for you?" Walt squinted at his calendar. Friday was in two days, he needed to clean the house, buy some groceries and pack the car for Sunday's apple delivery.

"Yeah, Friday works."

"Alright. I'll see you on Friday… Walt… I missed you."

"… Missed you too Sal."

He put the phone down slowly, feeling like he was still in a dream. The dog had noticed something was off about his behavior and was staring at him in concern. " 's alright bud, I'm just… surprised, is all. We'll meet a friend of mine on Friday. I hope you'll like him…"

Lost in his thoughts, Walt began his evening routine, closing the chicken pen, checking on the goats and refilling the dogs food in case he got hungry during the night, only when the brown cibbles hit the kitchen tiles did he notice his thoughts slipping off. The only thing on his mind was Sal. Sal with his kind face and the warm, dark brown eyes, Sal wrapping an arm around his hips and pulling him closer, Sal whispering into Walt's ear. A hushed love confession neither of them dared to talk about. So, so many memories they shared between them, how was he supposed to wait any longer to see him again?

Friday couldn't come soon enough.

[thedurvin]

Just gotta vent about the tough side of public library customer service

If you’ve worked customer service, you’ve had your Regulars: people that are there on a regular basis and say or do things that make sure you remember them every time they’re back. Public libraries have these, and thanks to what we’re here for, they tend to be older people, especially older people with health and financial problems, relying on our services. This is a group with a high mortality rate.

Our regulars die.

This is weird to deal with. Think about your customer service job and your quirky obnoxious regulars, the ones you wish would get some real friends instead of forming parasocial relationships with people paid to smile pleasantly at them. Maybe they come in and keep you for an hour to ask weird questions you shouldn’t ask customer service people, call the service desk just to chat, camp out by the staff exit to see what you’re up to after work. Maybe they get comfortable with you and trust you enough to say racist or homophobic things about other customers and you have to figure out how to answer that (this one might only apply to me as a white cishet-presenting dude, idk, but holy shit). Then they stop coming in.

Turns out they died.

This has happened a couple of times in the past year and it’s a weird feeling. We lost one of the regulars at my book group, an old lady that had been a labor activist in the 70s and was convinced that the government was still looking for her so she refused to get an email address; she loved gays but hated Muslims and derailed conversations repeatedly to tell the story of how her mother once met Calvin Coolidge. I have no idea how I’m supposed to feel about her passing.

And then that’s got me wondering about all the other regulars from the group that I haven’t seen since last February. The 93 year old guy with the most intense ADHD I’ve ever seen, the pleasant psychologist that talks like an NPR announcer, the literature professor turned sewage treatment plant operator with Parkinson’s, the retired salesman that still had his perfect Mad Men hair and casually mentioned donating to hate groups but was surprisingly knowledgeable about Wicca. We’ve started doing the book groups electronically and only one old regular has come back and we have no idea what’s become of any of the others.

It’s a weird emotional journey here.

[gendercraft]

When I Fell Overboard [Chapter Seven: Don’t Get Your Hopes Up, Sebastian]

Read on ao3

Synopsis: Sebastian struggles with his relationship with Maru as she strives to get close to him. Meanwhile, he and Elliott get closer and closer.

Trigger warnings: Panic attacks, fighting, snapping, potentially unsympathetic Robin, crying, food mention, let me know if I missed anything please

“No way! The rumours are true?!”

    Sebastian rolled his eyes as he and Elliott ducked into Sam’s room. Abigail sat up in the bed, boots pressed into the covers and phone in her hand. She furrowed her eyebrows. 

    “Elliott?” 

    “Hello, Abigail. Sam. Just dropping Sebastian off.” 

    “Since when do you hang out?” Abigail stood and set her phone on the bookshelf, grabbing her drumsticks. 

    Sebastian shrugged. “About a month ago. I’ll see you later, El. Thanks for walking me or whatever.” 

    Elliott laughed as he was practically shoved out of the room. He waved and left. 

    “Alright, progress?” Sam held his hand out. 

    “Seriously, are the rumours true?” Abigail asked. “Are you dating Elliott?” 

    “Dating?” Sebastian spluttered. “N- no! Jesus.” 

    “Cool, Seb’s not dating Elliott. Songs?” 

    “Hold on, Sam, he’s blown us off for a month, I haven’t forgiven him yet.”

    “Well, I have.” 

    “Sam.” 

    He sighed and plopped on the bed. “Alright, alright.” 

    Sebastian slid into his spot behind the keyboard and busied himself with finding his sheet music. “We’re not… dating. We’ve just been hanging out. I’m sorry I haven’t been answering the group chat.” 

    Abigail narrowed her eyes as she stared at him. “You haven’t missed Fridays, so I’ll let you off easy. Are you into Elliott?” 

    Letting me off easy. Funny. “No,” he said dryly. Liar. You just lied. Why did you lie? 

    “Okay, so Sebastian’s not gay. Songs?” 

    “Yeah, I’ve got a few.” 

    Abigail blinked. “A few? Since when do you come with less than a half?”    

    He shrugged. “I had a good week. Ready to hear ‘em or not?” 

    They spent the next few hours going through Sebastian’s songs and, surprisingly, Sam and Abigail accepted them in almost their entirety. With just a few tweaks, they had enough songs to finish the set they’d been working on for ages. 

    “Goddamn, Sebastian,” Abigail said. “Good fucking job.” 

    He blushed and played a few notes on his keyboard. “Thanks. They’re not as good here as they’d be on a piano—”

    “We know, you’ve said.” Sam rolled his eyes and looked at Abigail, who nodded with a laugh. 

    Sebastian narrowed his eyes. “What?” 

    “Nothing.” Abigail held her hands up. “Nothing. You just haven’t played piano since middle school.” 

    “I haven’t wanted to,” Sebastian said. 

    Sam set his guitar back in its stand. “We know. We’re just wondering what the sudden change of heart is. As far as I know, Elliott’s the only one with a piano in Pelican Town.” 

    “And?” Sebastian asked harshly. 

    They laughed. 

    “Are we ready to go or not?” It just occurred to him that he had invited Elliott to hang out with them, and he bit his lip. He couldn’t well break it to them then, that’d be way too suspicious. 

    Why do I care so much? 

    It wasn’t because he was probably-definitely gay. They didn’t care about that and after the initial shock had worn off, neither did he. But there was something lingering in the back of his head, something that promised he’d regret it if he told them anything. 

    You have no idea where this is going to go. You could be completely wrong. 

    Don’t get your hopes up, Sebastian. 

    They made their way towards the beach. Sebastian stopped at the saloon to catch Gus before he left, ordering a shot. He downed it and turned. They stared at him with raised eyebrows. 

    “I can’t have a drink?” He asked. 

    Abigail raised her hand and headed over to the bridge. She hopped up on the rail and threw her arms up for balance as she tightroped it. Sam followed, ready to catch her even though she never fell. Sebastian flicked his hood up and shoved his hands in his pockets. 

    “You’re shaking, Seb,” Sam said after a minute, and Sebastian cursed himself. 

    “I’m fine,” he mumbled, and then, even though it didn’t make sense, “Drink must’ve went down wrong.”  

    When they arrived at the beach, pretty much the entire town was already there. Alex and Hailey were flirting on the docks, Hailey trying to convince him to let her wear his bomber jacket and him slowly losing resolve. Shane gently held Jas’ arm to keep her from getting too excited and falling in the water as he pointed out the ripples of fish underneath the waves. Vincent was already there, sitting at their usual spot with his feet in the water. He jumped up and crossed the docks with all the speed of a sugar eye the moment he saw the trio. 

    “SAMMIE! SAMMIE!” He threw himself into his older brother’s arms, who laughed as he caught him. “Sammie, something touched my foot!” 

    Sebastian went to talk about the sea monster that inhabited the waters, but Sam held his hand in the air and said, “Don’t, Sebastian,” so he shut his mouth. 

    They were about a half hour away from Mayor Lewis sending off the light boat and attracting the jellies. 

    It wasn’t much longer that Elliott arrived. His auburn hair caught the starlight, glistening down the long braid that laid down his back. He was dressed more casually, missing his coat, instead in an olive green button up with the top two buttons undone, and jeans. Had Sebastian ever seen Elliott wear jeans in his life? He guessed he didn’t pay much attention until a month ago. 

    “Someone’s coming this way,” Sam teased. 

    “What?” Abigail asked, then looked over her shoulder. “Oh.”

    “I invited him to hang out with us,” Sebastian mumbled. “I now realize that was a shitty idea.” 

    “No, it’s great! Can’t wait to freak him out.” Sam lifted Vincent over the water until he squealed. 

    Sebastian rolled his eyes. Elliott strode up to them with his hands in his pockets and smiled. 

    “It’s great to see you guys again. And hello, Vincent!”  

    Vincent kicked until Sam let him down, nearly actually dropping him in the water. “Hi, Elliott! Sammie, can I go play with Jas?” 

    “Yeah, just be careful. Don’t go out of Shane’s sight, okay?” 

    Vincent ran across the docks to where the two of them stood. Shane looked up and nodded at Sam, who nodded back. They were close in the way where Sam considered Shane a friend and Shane considered no one a friend, so Sam fell into that category. Still, Sam told Sebastian about the few times Shane had gone to him when his thoughts turned dark, and Sam stayed up all night playing video games with him just so Shane would see the sun again. Shane pretended he didn’t care, but someone had to be paying for all the pizza and drinks that showed up at the pool table on Fridays. It certainly wasn’t Gus. 

    “So why did you two start talking?” Abigail asked, stood on one of the pillars of the pier with her hand to her forehead, scoping out the ocean for any signs of the jellies. 

    “Sebastian had a bad day and I just happened to be there,” Elliott said. 

He rested one hand on the small of Sebastian’s back, and part of him burned under Sam’s raised eyebrow, but the rest of him felt completely at peace. He decided to leave it be. For now. 

Sam frowned. “Wait, bad day? How long ago was this? You always tell me when you have panic attacks.” 

Elliott looked to Sebastian in surprise. Sebastian looked away. 

“That’s not true,” he mumbled. “I can’t tell you every time I have a panic attack.” 

“Yoba, how many do you have?” 

Sebastian didn’t answer. 

“Lately?” Elliott asked. “At least once a day. On bad days, around three.” 

“And how often does he have bad days?” Abigail asked harshly. She jumped onto the dock, the wood creaking under her. She crossed her arms over her chest. 

Elliott looked to Sebastian, and he sighed, nodding for him to continue. 

“Maybe two a week?” 

“Yoba, Seb,” Sam said under his breath, then louder, “That must be exhausting. Why didn’t you tell us?” 

“I thought you knew,” he said honestly. 

“Obviously we didn’t know.” Abigail punched him in the arm. “You should talk to Harvey about getting a prescription.” 

Elliott lit up. “I didn’t even think of that! That’s a wonderful idea.” 

“No it’s not,” Sebastian snapped. “Do you know what Mom will say if she finds out I need a fucking pill to get through the day? She’ll call me a druggie or think I’m…” She can’t know how weak I am. 

“No, she won’t,” Sam sighed. “I get she’s not perfect but you realize how much shit about her you just make up, right?” 

Elliott’s eyebrows raised. “Either way,” he said after a moment of silence, “I think it’s a great idea. At least think on it, Bastian? I can go with you, if you want.” 

He hesitated. That would make things easier, weirdly. “I’ll think about it,” he mumbled. 

“Oh, the jellies! I saw one!” Abigail leapt back to her post, nearly falling over. 

“I want to push her so bad right now,” Sam whispered. 

“If you’re willing to go in after her,” Sebastian whispered back. 

“Uh oh,” Elliott mumbled. 

“What-? Oh.” 

Maru trekked up from the beach, shoes missing and one side of her overalls unclipped, and padded across the dock. 

“What are you doing here?” Sebastian asked, his voice missing its bite. He quirked an eyebrow. “I thought you were with Mom and Demetrius.” 

“I was,” she said, “but I figured they might want some alone time tonight.” 

“Alright…” 

“So can I stay with you guys?” 

“Yeah, Maru,” Abigail said, and Sebastian got very close to pushing her in the water. “Come over here, I think I see one!” 

Sebastian crept a bit closer to Elliott, who wrapped an arm around his waist. He sighed. Abigail helped Maru up so they were balancing one foot each on the post, arms wrapped around each other for support, and Abigail pointed out the jelly she noticed. 

“I take it you two are still fighting,” Sam said. 

Sebastian shrugged. “Not really. We’re just not talking to each other. It’s better this way.” 

Sam gave Elliott a look. “Riiiight.” 

Sebastian rolled his eyes. Maru had a look on her face Sebastian hadn’t seen before—at least, not in a very long time. It wasn’t smug, it wasn’t pure scientific interest, it was… excitement. She was spouting off every fact she knew about the moonlight jellies to Abigail, who listened intently, hanging on her every word. Her eyes were lit up, her grin wide, grip on Abigail’s denim vest tight. 

Abigail seemed happy, too. Sebastian always thought letting Maru into his life would be an utter disaster, that the two of them mixing would always be a chemical explosion, but this was… fine. The rest of them found a seat on the docks, squeezed together at the end with Elliott in the middle, as Lewis gently pushed the boat into the water. The waves were nearly non-existent tonight, and when Abigail remarked that she had no idea how that was possible, Maru was all too happy to explain. For once, her voice wasn’t grating. It was almost like background music, interspersed with Abigail’s “ooh��s and “oh, cool!”s and laughter. 

“Not too bad?” Elliott asked, and Sebastian sighed. 

“Not too bad.” 

The jellies came up through the water, dozens of blueish white lights coming to illuminate the docks. After a minute, Sebastian looked up to say something, and his breath caught. 

Elliott’s eyes were shining. A lock of hair had fallen loose from its braid to hang against his forehead, and Sebastian wanted desperately to reach up and tuck it behind his ear. The lights played perfectly over his face, glistening in his eyes, his hair. Then Elliott’s honey gaze flicked to his, and Sebastian wanted so badly to kiss him, to lace their fingers and pull him closer, closer, as the gentle water and sounds of wonderment sounded around them. 

He cleared his throat and looked away, face red. Elliott rubbed his back, and for a terrifying second, Sebastian figured Elliott must know what he was thinking. 

And that brief bit of fear was enough to let the rest in, to remind him of a simple fact: Elliott didn’t look at Sebastian the way Sebastian looked at him. Elliott was looking at the jellies. 

Will he ever be as excited to see me as I am to see him? 

Once the last of the jellies had visited and made their way south, everyone milled about for a moment before heading home. 

The five of them stopped on the bridge across from the beach. Abigail and Maru talked excitedly as they traded phone numbers, promising to go bug Hailey about getting pictures tomorrow. 

“It was good officially meeting you, Elliott,” Sam said with a lopsided grin. “Yoba knows why Sebastian hid you from us for so long—”

Sebastian playfully shoved him. “Shut up.” 

He laughed. “See you later, Elliott.” 

Elliott nodded with a smile. “See you later. And Sebastian.” He rested a hand on Sebastian’s shoulder. “Sometime tomorrow? More piano practice?” 

Piano practice had become code for keep me company while I write. Sebastian loved it. “Yeah, I should be free.” 

Elliott headed back down to the beach, leaving Sam and Sebastian alone as the girls started walking towards the town. 

“So we need to talk a second,” Sam said, pulling them over towards the houses to get away from the stream of people leaving the beach. 

They stood under the tree they normally did on days that were too sunny. Sebastian crossed his arms over his chest and looked away stubbornly. 

“You know I don’t care if you’re gay, right?” Sam asked. 

Sebastian blinked, nearly choking. “What?” 

“I don’t care if you’re gay. Neither does Abigail. Do you care? Do you think Robin or Demetrius would care?” 

“Yoba, no! But that’s not-!”

“Are you gay?” 

Sebastian hesitated. “Maybe? I… I think so.” 

Sam grabbed his shoulders. “That’s fine.” 

He shoved him off. “Yoba, I know. That’s not…” 

“So what was your deal, hiding what’s going on between you and Elliott?” 

“Nothing’s going on between Elliott and I,” he said firmly.

Sam paused, then sighed. “Ah. Got it. I’ll let you live with this one for now, but let me know when you get your head out of your ass.” 

“What?” Sebastian snapped. 

“You know exactly what I mean,” Sam laughed, headed towards his house, “you’re just too scared to admit it. Check the fucking group chat, dork!” 

His door shut.

[thatsamericano]

Magnus and the Football Team in this Fic

So, I am thinking of beefing up the presence of Magnus (human Denmark) in this fic, because I picture him as Alfred’s closest friend on the football team, so he’d eat lunch with Alfred and his other friends and do things with him occasionally the way his other friends do. In my head, Magnus was this huge, tall freshman playing another sport in the spring of his freshman year, and the football coach saw him and was like “okay, this kid could make an amazing defensive tackler.” He starts trying to recruit him, and Magnus is like “That’s very flattering, dude, but I just moved here from Denmark and don’t know anything about American football.” He plays on the JV level the next fall after doing a lot of intensive training, likes it, and is good enough to make it onto the varsity squad in his junior year. Right now, he’s a senior and one year older than Alfred.

The reason Alfred and Magnus became friends is that they’re both outsiders on the team. Magnus is from another country and really likes American football now that he’s started playing it, but he wasn’t into it his entire life the way most of the guys on the team are. Alfred was into football his whole life and is a very good player (he’s the head quarterback in his junior year after the previous guy graduated), but he’s also a huge frickin’ math and science nerd. I might not get into Magnus’s sexuality in the story, because it doesn’t really matter, but Alfred is clearly not interested in the cheerleaders or popular girls most of the guys on the team are, so it’s generally assumed he’s gay and just not out yet. Some guys on the team might be a little homophobic, but they don’t actively say anything to Magnus (if he is into guys) or Alfred, and only a couple would ever get weird about stuff like showering or changing in front of them. For most of the team, they don’t have an issue with their sexuality, but it’s another way Alfred (and/or Magnus) might not fit in with them. Most of the team are friendly to Alfred and Magnus during practices and games, respect their skills on the football field, and will invite them along to all team hangouts like the one some guy named Bryan was talking about in the story before the asshole OC revealed he was going on a date with Savino that night. But Alfred and Magnus are not someone these guys would choose to hang out with socially or have lunch with.

About the asshole OC: Dylan is openly gay, and that might gross out some of the guys on the team, but he’s also the coach’s son, so he’ll get suckups trying to be his friend just because of that and get more leeway from the guys who are kind of homophobic because of who he is. He’s basically a stereotypical asshole football player from a high school movie, except that he’s gay. He treats the guys he hooks up with like shit (and is predatory in that he generally goes after naive freshman when he’s a senior and makes it seem like he’s super into them but then ghosts them and hooks up with someone new within a week), bullies less popular students for the hell of it, and tries to con “nerds” like Kiku (who he might have tried to do this with because he is smart, quiet, and Japanese, and this dude might be low-key racist too) into doing his schoolwork and cheats when he takes tests so he won’t get scholastic probation. He also takes credit for whenever the football team does well like he “won the game” all by himself and is quick to blame other people when they lose. A lot of people on the team, including Alfred and Magnus, don’t like him because he’s a jerk to them and an all-around asshole to other people. They also resent how the coach, teachers, and the principal let Dylan get away his BS because of who he is and don’t like the way he’s presenting a bad, stereotypical image of a football player to the entire school (especially the nicer guys, like Alfred and Magnus, who are actually friends with the so-called nerds and losers he bullies).

How I see Magnus factoring into the Romerica plot: Right at the beginning of December in his sophomore year, just before Alfred started to figure out he was into Savino in a non-friendship way, Savino showed up in the stands at a football game wearing some replica jersey with Alfred’s number that the school sells. Alfred got so distracted by seeing Vinny in “his jersey” that he just stood there with the football like a dumbass and let himself get tackled instead of completing the play he was supposed to. The coach called a timeout and yelled at Alfred to “get his head in the game,” and he was really ticked off because this was their last game of the season and Alfred was filling in for the first-string quarterback who had gotten injured. Magnus was on the sidelines because he’s a defensive player, so he got a pretty good view of why Alfred was distracted. At this point, he’s known Alfred since the first football practice of the year, when Alfred was like, “I saw you on JV last year and you were really good. I’m glad you made it onto varsity this year.” They chatted a little, Magnus may have mentioned something about being from Denmark and not fitting in super well with people on the JV football team because of that, and Alfred is like “Come hang out with me and my friends at lunch then, ‘cause you’ll fit right in. There’s a couple Europeans there and a guy from Japan.” They start eating lunch together and hanging out outside of school occasionally, and then Savino starts eating lunch with them shortly afterwards (because Alfred had to pester him into it since he met Savino by accidentally hitting him with his locker, so Savino really didn’t like Alfred based on that first meeting). Magnus just assumed Alfred was being friendly to Savino like he’d been friendly to him, because apparently Al is just super nice and welcoming to people from other countries. But then after the jersey incident, he thinks Alfred has a crush, and his suspicion is confirmed once Alfred starts acting weird around Savino as he’s figuring out his feelings. He doesn’t say anything to him about it, because Alfred and Magnus have a more casual “bro” friendship than he does with Tolys and Kiku, and they wouldn’t talk about their deeper emotions with each other like Alfred might with Kiku or Tolys since he’s known them for much longer. Magnus also doesn’t say anything when he sees Alfred pining while Savino is dating Emma, but he does feel bad for him. When Alfred tells him Savino is his new stepbrother, he might be complaining about something else related to this (like his dads shacking up with this other dude all of a sudden). Magnus is like, “Damn, bro, that sucks,” but he’s thinking what really sucks is that Alfred is now stepbrothers with a guy he’s been super into for at least seven months.

Magnus might say something to Alfred about his feelings prior to where I am now, and it will be in October when Alfred is acting crazy jealous over Savino going on a date with the asshole OC. He was there in the locker room when Alfred referred to Savino as “my Vinny” and silently trying to console him/keep him from attacking Dylan when he was talking about Savino in a crude, very sexualized way and taunting Alfred for being jealous. (Dylan didn’t know for sure, but he may have picked up on something, and Dylan is such a jerk that he wants to antagonize Alfred any way he can, and this would clearly work even if Savino is just his very close friend.) Magnus had to pull Alfred off Dylan when Dylan made him snap and break Magnus’s hold by using the word “Fredo” on him mockingly, which is Savino’s and his family’s nickname for Alfred that always makes Alfred happy when he hears it. Magnus tells him to let it go and that Dylan’s not worth it, because he doesn’t want his friend to get in trouble for beating the crap out of the coach’s son, which is what Alfred clearly wanted to do. Alfred waits until Dylan’s gone to finish changing and wants to immediately confront Vinny at home about going out with this guy Alfred and Magnus have both complained about occasionally at lunch because he’s such an asshole and they hate having to deal with him all the time and play nice with him because he’s the coach’s son. Before he leaves, Magnus catches up to Alfred and is like, “Bro, I’m sympathetic to the fact you’re in love with Vinny and he’s going out on a date with a total shithead, but try not to go nuts on him when you get home.” (He might want to ride to Alfred’s house with him to help reiterate the point that Dylan is bad news to Savino and keep him calm, but it would change things too much if Magnus heard the “at least he wants me” line, so I’ll say that he has some thing he needs to do after football practice and can’t go with Alfred.) Alfred is shocked he knows and starts to panic like he always does, and Magnus explains how he knows and reassures Alfred that he doesn’t care about the stepbrother thing because Alfred is his friend and because he knows that Alfred liked Savino for months before he found out that Savino and his family were going to move into Alfred’s house. The conversation is pretty short, since Magnus has some urgent thing to get to, but he warns Alfred one last time to not go nuts on Vinny. (Which he does, just like he did in what I’ve already written.)

Magnus will have a presence during the lunch scenes, and his most important role in those scenes will be during the lunch right before Savino goes out with the asshole OC and Alfred and Savino are sniping at each other over it. He’ll look at Alfred like “dude, I told you not to go nuts on him” and help reiterate how Dylan is an asshole and Savino shouldn’t go out with him (maybe stealing some dialogue that was originally Alfred’s). I also picture him maybe looking concerned after Savino storms out of the cafeteria but letting Tolys console Alfred since Tolys obviously knows what’s going on. He might skip the football team party to hang out with Alfred the night Savino goes out with Dylan, because he knows his friend has got to be feeling like shit, and he’ll be in the room trying to console Alfred before Savino gets home and explains that he didn’t have sex with Dylan and that Dylan was such a jerk he won’t be going out with him again. When Savino explains what happens on the date, he’ll be like, “Vinny, why were you going out with that dude anyway? You knew he was a piece of shit who would want to fuck you as soon as he was done seeing a movie.” Savino says some BS about not wanting to be a single loser, but Magnus didn’t have much of an idea of his feelings prior to this because he was closer to Alfred through football. He starts to think that maybe Savino likes Alfred too, because something is not adding up about the fact that Savino randomly went out with this asshole both he and Alfred have complained about yet is acting disappointed with the fact that Dylan acted in a very predictable way. He doesn’t say anything to Alfred about his suspicion because he doesn’t want to get his friend’s hopes up if he’s wrong. He does tease Alfred when Savino wears his bomber jacket to a game in November and he’s looking up at the stands all starry-eyed, and it’s a short comment because they have to go out and play a game. After Romerica get together, Magnus can sense that something happened between them because they act goofier around each other than they were before, and he’s glad Savino liked Alfred too and that they’re together now. But he doesn’t say anything to them, because they haven’t publicly announced it yet and seem to be under the delusion that their friends who eat lunch with them have no clue what’s going on.

The day after Christmas, Alfred calls up his friends from school to chat with them and so he can thank them for the small presents they’ve exchanged with each other near the end of the school year but agreed not to open until Christmas Day. (I’ll be adding this in as a small mention before they go on the trip.) Alfred has been busier than usual with his Roman holiday, so he hasn’t kept in touch with his school friends like he normally would, and since he’s not dating them he didn’t make an effort to regularly Skype with them the way Matthew does with Katya. Since Santa Stefano in Italy is traditionally a day for people to go visit their friends after a huge family holiday, Alfred might be at Nonno Vargas’s house (to have a conversation with him about Romerica that I’d planned for a long time to occur right after Christmas), and people are just going in and out and doing whatever they feel like. (Some people might stop by a church to give a charitable donation, which is also a tradition on this day.) Alfred calls up Magnus to thank him for his present, which was a Lego space-related model kit (because I think it’s funny if Magnus likes Legos since they’re from Denmark, and he knows how Alfred likes space-related model kits a ton and won’t think he’s too “mature” for a simpler one that may technically be designed for younger people but Magnus could afford to get for a friend from school.) They chat a little, Magnus asks if he got any other space related stuff for Christmas, and Alfred starts rhapsodizing about the telescope from Savino and going into details Magnus may not be able to get (because I’m thinking he has a scientific interest too, because of the famous Danish scientist Niels Bohr, but it’s not space specifically). Magnus interrupts his friend to go, “Hey, Al? I didn’t want to say anything in front of other people since you were trying to keep it a secret, but I’m really happy for you that you got with Vinny sometime after Thanksgiving.” Alfred is surprised Magnus knew, but it’s not angsty since he knows Magnus would be okay with it (like Tolys, who also mentioned Alfred’s feelings before Romerica got together). Magnus explains how they were acting really sappy with each other at lunch in late November/early December to the point he thinks Feliciano’s boyfriend Ludwig might know what’s going on even though he knows Alfred and Savino peripherally through his boyfriend and isn’t close to either of them. But nobody cares, and it’s all cool. Alfred might tell him some vague things about his dads getting suspicious and freaking out over a hickey Savino had during Christmas Eve dinner, but he doesn’t get emotional or go into the level of detail he would with Katya, Kiku, or Tolys since he and Magnus are friends, but not the kind of friends who get into deep, emotional conversations with each other. Magnus is like, “It sucks you had to deal with that. If you guys ever need a break from your parents, you can always come chill at my place. You know how huge my house is.” I’m thinking one of Magnus’s parents is a Danish architect, and he lives in a nice, very large contemporary Scandinavian home and maybe some/all of the Nordics Magnus knows from somewhere other than school (because I don’t want to worry about adding them to Alfred’s friendship group) are there when Romerica runs away and goes to his house on New Year’s Day. If the other Nordics find out about Romerica being stepbrothers in a romantic relationship who had to run away from home when their parents found out, they might think it’s a little weird but not say anything because Romerica are Magnus’s friends and they don’t want to piss him off (and the other Nordics are just not confrontational like this). Eduard might show up after Romerica start to get comfortable because he’s going to visit his best friend/possible boyfriend Timo, and when they see him Romerica are very tense around him because his initial reaction to them is the reason why they didn’t even consider going to Tolys’s house. If he’s there, Eduard gets to explain that he’ll probably always be uncomfortable with the idea of them because of his family situation, but that he didn’t say anything to anyone after Tolys told him not to and gets that it’s not creepy the way Tolys and him hooking up would be. He won’t give them crap about it anymore if he sees them around school or if they’re at Tolys’s house visiting their friend, and he was never so much of a dick that he would be mean to people who just ran away from home. Because Eduard is uncomfortable around them, he might go hang out with Timo somewhere else while Romerica is around.

[minimitchell]

benmitchellweek day 5 - “is that supposed to be a challenge?”  (ao3 link)

.

Ben doesn’t actually need to do any washing at the laundromat. They have a perfectly good washing machine at the house. It’s just that the one time Karen asked him to drop by the laundrette because she had something for Lexi, there was this guy sitting in one of the chairs by the machines, completely engrossed in a book.

And because Ben is a complete idiot, he purposefully went by the laundrette as often as he could to find out if that guy using it was a one off or if he goes there regularly, because there’s no way in hell he’s going to ask Karen about him.

He feels a bit like some creepy stalker but it only takes him a couple of weeks to figure out that the guy does his washing there every two weeks on a Friday afternoon, always round about the same time. 

He doesn’t know what it is about the guy, they haven’t even spoken or anything, but there is just something to him that captures Ben's attention in a way no one has done for a very long time. He thinks it’s maybe the nicely-kept stubble that decorates his cheeks or the soft looking brown hair. Or maybe it’s the absolutely captivating blue of his eyes that he got to see when their eyes met that one time he was passing by.

Whatever it is, it’s enough to make Ben regress into a teenager with a crush again, trying to get the cute guy to notice him. He must be new around here, since Albert Square is a place where everyone knows everyone and he definitely doesn’t know who this guy is. He’d like to, but he doesn’t. He hasn’t seen him around the market, or in the chippy, or even in the Vic and it only adds to this weird fascination Ben has developed.

A fascination he’s tried hard to keep hidden, especially from the mother of his child, but apparently he hasn’t been as successful as he thought he’d been.

“Ben, you can’t go there every week until he notices you. It’s dead creepy.”

“Is that supposed to be a challenge?”

Lola’s rolling her eyes at him over her cup of coffee, checking to see if their daughter is still playing idly on the swings. They’ve used the rare occurrence where they both have the afternoon off to take her to the park and it made Ben realize that he has missed spending time with both of them like this. Yeah, they live together but they rarely spend time together as just the three of them. Normally, they’re always doing something with his mum, or his dad, or Jay. And while he loves the rest of his family, it’s still nice to spend time with his mate and their daughter.

Even if all she does is tease him about his crush on laundromat guy.

“So ask him out next time.”

Ben shakes his head while taking a sip from his own coffee, giving his daughter a cheer when she screams over at them to look how high she’s getting.

“I can’t. I’ve never said a word to him before.”

“So you just sit in the same room as him and stare at him until your washing is done? That’s somehow even worse, Ben. Besides, that fact has never stopped you before, has it?”

This is different though. He doesn’t want to pick the guy up and take him home with him. He wants to get to know him, maybe go to dinner with him and listen to him talk about the book he’s currently reading. It’s a new thing for him; to be so invested in someone he doesn’t know that the physical aspect of it all doesn’t even come into play until later. It’s unnerving to say the least, because it means that he’s completely out of his element with this.

Not that he’s going to give any of that information to Lola right now. She’ll only tease him more, call him ‘in love’ probably.

He’s about to give a retort when he catches a glimpse of tall brown hair and that lean body across the square. The guy’s stepping out of his brother’s old restaurant they’ve been trying to sell for a while now, some papers in one hand while shaking his mum’s with the other.

“Shit, Lo, that’s him.”

Lola follows his gaze to laundromat guy and they’re both watching him say goodbye to Ben’s mother with a bright smile on his face, before he disappears down the street.

“Oh, he’s fit. If he ain’t gay send him my way, please.”

“For your fiancé and my brothers sake, I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that.”

They exchange a small laugh with each other, knowing it’s all in jest.

“You should ask your mom what they were doing though. Saves you from stalking that poor bloke any longer.”

-----

Turns out, laundromat guy’s name is Callum and he’s the one who bought his brother’s old space. Apparently, he’s new here and plans to open his own restaurant. He’s only a few years older than Ben and is a very nice, young man - according to his mother anyway. She also informs him that she’s invited Callum to this week’s Friday dinner. A fact, that Ben only freaks out about a little. Honestly.

The day the dinner finally rolls around he’s more than a little nervous. No one but Lola knows about his little infatuation with Callum and he desperately hopes that no one will embarrass him tonight. If everything goes well, he’s going to ask Callum out on a date later and hopefully, they’ll end up dating and Callum can cook delicious food for him for the rest of their lives. At least, that’s what Ben envisions.

Him and Lola are already settled around the laid table, while Lexi is still upstairs washing her hands and his mom is putting the finishing touches on their dinner, when the doorbell rings.

“Oh, I’ll get it. That must be Callum.”

His mom is practically running from the kitchen at the sound, almost looking like she’s the one hoping to score a date with Callum. Ben looks over at the doorway when the sound of two voices mingling gets louder, trying to ignore Lola’s teasing smile next to him, failing to not get lost in the smooth tones of Callum’s voice.

Ben feels his mouth go a little dry when they finally step into the living room, because Callum looks gorgeous. He’s wearing a crisp, white dress shirt and tight, black jeans and his hair is as nicely gelled as it normally is when they’re seeing each other at the laundrette. He’s still holding a bottle of wine in his hands and Ben is overcome with the urge to feel one of his large hands in his.

His eyes shine with recognition when he meets Ben’s gaze and he sends him a small smile; one, Ben can’t help but return.

“Callum, this is Ben and Lola. Lola’s fiancé Jay is joining us later, he’s still at work.”

“And our daughter Lexi is still upstairs but she’s going to, no doubt, bombard you with questions about your restaurant soon.”

Callum lets out a small laugh at that, although he momentarily had a weird look on his face when Ben mentioned their daughter. He really hopes that it isn’t down to Callum not liking kids; it’d definitely be a dealbreaker for Ben.

The dinner goes extremely well, despite the awkwardness from earlier. Callum is great with Lexi; answering every single one of her questions with ease and patience and Lola had to nudge him quite a bit to not overdo the heart eyes when looking at Callum interacting with his daughter. He’s charming and funny and honestly has a great vision for his future restaurant.

Ben is nothing short of enamored with him.

Somehow, they find themselves in the kitchen together. Ben did some washing up so that his mum could sit back and relax a little and Callum joined him when he came in to get another beer. It’s almost sickenly domestic and once they were done with it, they stayed in here to continue chatting in peace, away from the loud chatter that’s filling up the living room, especially with Jay having joined them now.

It’s nice; they’ve figured out that they have quite a lot in common and Ben is almost certain that Callum is flirting with him from time to time. One thing in particular they’ve learned is that they’re both gay.

“Oh, I assumed because of Lexi that you’re straight. Sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it. It’s a long story, but I’m definitely into guys.”

“Good to know.”

They’re just swaying back and forth in his kitchen, matching dopey smiles on their faces, and Ben is pretty sure that Callum’s going to say yes to that date after all. It makes him giddy with excitement; warmth and hope blooming in his chest at the prospect of it. He’s about to ask Callum, when the door opens and Jay walks in, straight to the fridge and completely unaware of the obvious, romantic tension filling the kitchen. Callum doesn’t seem that bothered though, not really paying Jay any more attention right now.

“You know, I’ve always wanted to come say hi when I saw you at the laundrette. I don’t know why I didn’t, but maybe next time we could go grab a coffee while we’re waiting?”

Ben is ready to say yes to Callum’s suggestion when Jay turns around and gives them a confused look, interrupting their moment.

“What are you going to the laundrette for? You have a perfectly fine washing machine right here.”

Jay doesn’t stick around for the fallout; only shaking his head and exiting the kitchen again, leaving Ben behind to drown in embarrassment. When he opens his eyes again - and when had he closed them anyway - Callum is looking at him with barely concealed amusement and Ben would really like the ground to swallow him up right now, please and thank you.

“Okay so I might’ve gone there a few times just to see you. I’d love to go for that coffee though, if you still want to.”

When Callum steps forward into his space, he settles both of his hands on Ben’s neck, using them to pull him the rest of the way into his own body. Ben thinks it’s heavenly how great they fit together until Callum seals their lips together in a soft kiss and then he knows what’s really heaven - the feeling of Callum’s lips on his own and his skin under Ben’s fingertips. 

It’s only a short kiss but it leaves Ben with an explosion of butterflies in his stomach, spreading all the way throughout his body.

“I still want to.”

Ben can’t wait for it. He’ll ask about Callum cooking him dinner later.

[pigtownchronicles]

Chapter 2.1 - Back to Reality

Dennis and Barry didn’t speak much for the rest of the weekend, after their night out at Depot. It was clear that something between them was withering in a way that was rather unexpected, but neither of them could articulate. Barry, however, was closer to understanding it. It was the same sensation that he always felt after a circuit party, or an orgy, when he was back in the quiet house again. He was back in reality. The party, the club, the sex, all of that was just fantasy, it couldn’t penetrate him. He couldn’t allow it to penetrate him. But when he saw someone like Samuel, or Parker, who not only allowed that energy to flow through them, but lived and breathed it, all he felt was restless. Like he’d done scuba diving, with all of this protection, only to discover other guys he knew had gills. That Dennis had intruded on that rather sacred experience, injected his own kind of order and justice and control into it only made him feel more sour, more disconnected, more jealous of what he could be, if he hadn’t chosen all of this.

Dennis, on the other hand, was feeling usurped. Annoyed that Barry had dragged him to that party, annoyed that he had challenged him when it came to Kyle and threatening to tell his father, annoyed that he felt bad about it, most of all. He’d done the right thing, he was sure of that. Kyle shouldn’t have been there, he was too young. It was illegal. Pretty much everything that was happening in that club was illegal, in fact. But Barry had put him on the defensive, a position Dennis hated, since he was very careful to always maintain a moral high ground. He felt like he needed to defend something that ought to be obvious. The fact that Barry apparently disagreed only made his own values feel more slippery. 

Barry dealt with the frustration by going to the gym, and stopping off at a gay sauna on the way back for a little action. Dennis dealt with it by making calls to the health department, the liquor control board, and the police department, reporting the myriad of violations he had witnessed at Depot on Friday. Neither of them felt satisfied, by the end of it. The energy that Barry was craving just wasn’t there, like it had been at Depot. The guys were all too nervous, too embarrassed, mostly older closeted men with wives in the suburbs. It only made Barry feel more hemmed in than before. Dennis kept getting the runaround from every agency he called. They would seem interested, and then as soon as he mentioned where he had been and they confirmed the address, the person on the other line would go quiet, say that wasn’t their jurisdiction, thank him for his vigilance and hang up on him. Only once, with a police officer, did he manage to get a little bit of info out of him. “Look, the folks you ought to talk to are down at Precinct 27. They handle everything in that neighborhood.” Frustrated, and again feeling like he was running into some bureaucratic red tape he hadn’t expected, he decided he’d pay a visit to the precinct sometime in the next week, and get some answers there. Surely they would have a more difficult time dismissing his complaints in person.

Monday came for them both. Dennis headed for the hospital--Monday was usually a day for appointments, and getting his surgeries for the rest of the week planned out and organized. Barry headed into the office, dreading it more than he had in some time. He’d hoped that seeing Samuel and having a chance to blow off some steam would have helped soften the blow of being passed over for a promotion, again. Instead, he just felt caught between two worlds, one unsatisfactory foot in each. He couldn’t invest himself entirely in his job--it bored him to death, and he didn’t understand how Dennis could stand being so normal all the time--but if he didn’t, he’d never get the respect there he longed for. Each time he saw Samuel though, it was like looking at some amazing being. He was so free. Sure, his life likely wasn’t easy, but it seemed effortless and fun and exhilarating in a way Barry’s had never been. It also terrified him, all the same, and he hadn’t even been able to hack an hour on the dance floor on Friday. He got settled in his office, and got caught up on his email for the first couple of hours, before the usual Monday morning meeting was due to start.

This is what he was dreading the most, of the entire day. He showed up a bit late, took a seat towards the far end of the table. Evan Ternbull, his current boss, was sitting at the front, and off to his left was Richard Carlisle, the man that Barry privately considered his rival, but they had never spoken more than a few words to each other, since Richard was a relatively new hire, and they’d been working on different projects.

“As you know,” Evan said once getting everyone in order, “I’m going to be transferring over to a new project team in a month or so, which I know all of you are so disappointed to hear about. I’m happy to announce today that Richard here will be stepping up into my role and overseeing your team for the remainder of your project. As you know, Richard is relatively new here, but he comes with some great outside experience, and I am very confident that he will be a great project lead.”

The folks around the table clapped for Richard, who stood up, looking a bit sheepish. How old could he be, really? Twenty-five, twenty-six? Slender, twinkish but clearly straight, Richard got up and introduced himself, talking about his wife, and about the baby they had on the way. The table clapped again, and Barry tried to mask his scowl as he clapped along. Part of him felt a bit bad now for feeling so entitled to the position. Dennis and he were doing just fine with their incomes, and he knew that kids were expensive--one of many reasons he’d never wanted one. But as soon as that sympathy popped up, he pushed it back down. Just because he was straight, just because he was “starting a family” didn’t mean he was entitled to more money than him. It didn’t mean he was entitled more respect.

That was it, wasn’t it? The respect. He didn’t feel respected here. He didn’t feel respected at home, even. Dennis loved him, sure, but did he respect him, really? Did it feel like a relationship between equals all the time? It didn’t. Barry would goad him, and half the time Dennis would just dismiss him out of hand, refuse to even engage, like fighting with Barry was simply beneath him. Like he knew that no matter how dissatisfied he might be, he’d never leave him, because he liked the money, and the lifestyle, and Barry’s own job here couldn’t afford it. 

He could barely focus for the rest of the meeting. After an hour, he faked a phone call, and retreated to his cubicle to think. Mostly, he stared at the little business card that Hugh had given him, and thought about what on earth “Broker” might mean. Someone in the drug trade, apparently, if Hugh worked for him. So much of that conversation had been...weirdly cryptic, but Hugh had been right about the central proposition. Barry was unsatisfied with his life, and more hemmed in he felt--by Evan, by Dennis, by Richard now--

“Hey, Billy, right?”

He was startled up from his thought, looked up and saw Richard looming in the doorway of his cubicle. The meeting was over apparently--was this the first thing he’d thought to do? Hunt Barry down?

“Barry, actually.”

“Oh shoot, sorry man. Everything alright? You zipped out of there in a hurry.”

“Yeah, just the husband, you know. Everything sounds like an emergency to him.”

Richard laughed, “Yeah man, I get it. Hey, Evan told me that you were on the shortlist for the position, and I just wanted to let you know that he thought you would have been a great choice too, and he wants you to keep throwing your hat in the ring, alright? He just didn’t think that this position would be a better stepping stone for me, since we’re at the tail end of a project, about to ship. He knows that wouldn’t have been a challenge for you.”

Barry’s face was growing a bit heated. Evan thought so, huh? Then why wasn’t Evan here telling him this? Why send this cherub faced little shit to come apologize on his behalf? “Sure thing, I understand. Besides, you got the growing family to feed, right?” Barry said, stretching his mouth into something he hoped was a smile and not a sneer, and from the way Richard’s face lit up back, he must have managed well enough. They chatted a bit about Barry’s current duties, and then Richard moved on to the next member of the team.

That settled it, then. If nothing else, he would have his curiosity satisfied. If it was a service that could make his life better, than great. Why care that the info came from a drug dealer? He pulled out the card Hugh had given him on Friday--it was rather simple. All it had was a name, Ian Miller, the word “Broker” below it, and on the bottom of the card, a phone number. He picked up his phone, and gave the mysterious number a call.

***

Want more Pigtown Chronicles? Support me over on my Patreon, and you can get early access to new chapters, along with loads of other content!