#I’ve had a few meme ideas rolling around in my head I should make them and add to this lmao

[fruitcoops]

Ok so what sbout remus/sirius being too sick to go to an away game so the other one has to go alone, and then tons of facetime conversations and "get well soon" videos from the team?

This is related to this fic about Remus and Finn bonding over terrible reporters--hope you enjoy! SW credit goes to @lumosinlove, and the Loops/ Talker bonding is for @lee-1012!

TW for illness

“You don’t look so good.” Remus frowned as he held the inside of his wrist against Sirius’ forehead. “And you definitely have a fever.”

“Non.” Sirius sat up on his elbows with a groan, then almost immediately flopped back down.

“Yes.” He leaned back on his heels and checked the clock—they had two hours before they had to be at the airport. “Baby, I don’t think you should—”

“ ‘m going.”

“It’s not a good—”

“Gotta go. Games.” Sirius cracked one glassy eye open. “Two weeks away. I’ll take the first couple days off.”

Remus sighed through his nose and brushed his sweaty hair out of his eyes. “You shouldn’t go on the plane if you’re sick. Not just for your sake, but for the rest of us. We don’t need everyone to come down with this.”

He received a halfhearted glare in response, but Sirius finally huffed and curled on his side to nuzzle against his thigh. “I’m gonna miss you.”

“I’ll miss you, too, baby,” Remus said quietly, bending to kiss his temple. They hadn’t been apart for that long since before he was a player, nearly a year prior. Hell, he had never played a game without Sirius, let alone two weeks’ worth. “Lily will check on you, okay?”

Sirius mumbled an incoherent response and cuddled closer when he began combing his fingers through his hair. The second alarm beeped, loud against the quiet of their bedroom; time to go, he thought ruefully. Sirius touched his knee as he started to stand. “Love you. Be safe.”

“Love you more.”

“Love you most.”

“Go back to sleep,” Remus said as his heart clenched. “I’ll let Coach know what happened, but you’ve got to rest and take care of yourself. Hydrate or die-drate, yeah?”

“Yeah. Love you.”

“Sleep,” he repeated, kissing his forehead once more before hauling himself out of bed and tucking the covers around Sirius’ shoulders. “I’ll be back before you know it.”

------------------------

The clouds were a soft, pastel pink around them as the sun rose—Sirius’ favorite. If his phone was correct, Lily would be there soon to let Hattie out and make sure Sirius wasn’t pushing himself too hard. The thought brought Remus a bit of relief, but not enough to quell his concern.

Talker poked his forearm, snapping him from his reverie. “What’s going on?”

“Just worrying.”

“About Cap?”

Remus waved a hand vaguely. “And Hattie, and Lily, and whether he’s got a cold or something worse. Feels weird being here without him.”

Talker hummed his agreement and offered one of his earbuds. “Want to listen to half of Bohemian Rhapsody with me? It’ll give you five minutes and 55 seconds of relative peace.”

“It’s too quiet,” James groaned just before he pressed ‘play’.

Across the aisle, Remus saw Kasey roll his eyes. “Your husband is sick, dude, not dead. He doesn’t talk to you on planes anyway.”

“It’s the principle of the thing, Bliz.”

“Oh my god,” Kasey muttered under his breath, securing his headphones tightly over his ears.

James let his head flop to the side with a baleful look. “Loops, you’re on my side, right?”

“I’ve got you, buddy,” he assured him. Talker stifled a laugh, and the opening chords began as more clouds rolled past. Remus let himself drift with them, taking deep breaths to soothe his worries; Sirius would be fine. He had the sniffles, or at worst the flu, and he would be join them for the second week in top form. There was nothing to worry about.

---------------------------------

“He’s got pneumonia,” Lily sighed.

“He what?”

“A mild case, but the doctor said it would take a week of antibiotics and rest before he’s close to a hundred percent. No hockey for about a month, too.”

Remus stared at the wall of his empty hotel room, lost for words. “Well, fuck.”

“Yeah.”

“Fuck.”

“Pretty m—absolutely not, go lay down.” There was a rustling noise and two grumbling voices. “Sorry about that.”

“Will you put me on speaker real quick?” Remus asked, pinching the bridge of his nose until he heard a faint click. “Sirius? You there?”

“Yes! I miss you, and I was just going to tell you that it’s really not that—”

“Please sit your ass down. Lily, if he tries to fuck around and find out exactly how nasty pneumonia is, you have full permission to sit on him. I miss you too, love,” he added after a short pause.

“He’s blowing you a kiss,” Lily informed him. “Oh, and he’s giving me the puppy eyes.”

“Resist if you can. Love you both. Give Hattie lots of cuddles from me.”

“We will,” she promised.

The second the call ended, Remus groaned aloud and thumped his head against the wall before padding down the hall. Just my fucking luck. The door swung open after the second knock; Arthur’s face fell. “How bad is it?”

“Mild pneumonia.”

“Fuck.”

“Yep. Doctor said he’d be out for a month.”

Arthur rubbed his eyes and nodded, motioning Remus back towards his own room. “Get some rest, then. I’ll let everyone know in the morning. Any idea how he got it?”

“Not a clue.”

“Thanks for the update, Loops. Sleep tight.”

“I will,” Remus lied as he headed back for a sleepless night between cold sheets.

----------------------------

Lily sent updates every few hours; most reported that Sirius was sleeping well and looking better with each passing day, but Remus couldn’t help but feel overwhelmingly guilty. If something happened while he was hundreds of miles away, he would never forgive himself. He had sworn in front of their closest friends and family to be there in sickness and in health—what kind of husband ditches their partner for one of a million roadies?

This one. He stabbed a piece of broccoli and shoved it in his mouth. And then he goes and makes an idiot of himself for the world to see.

The interview was supposed to be easy, but he couldn’t let it roll off anymore. Not when he couldn’t answer their questions even when he wanted to, not when he was states away from the love of his life while he was sick, not when he felt helpless and shoved aside in every current aspect of his life.

“So.” The chair next to him creaked as Talker planted his full weight in it and set his plate decisively on the table.

“What.”

“Oh, pissy Loops. Haven’t seen you in a while. Talked to Cap yet?”

“Yeah.” Another piece of broccoli fell victim to his frustration.

“How’s he sound?”

“Better.”

“Sweet.” Talker continued to munch away on his dinner. “Anyone ever told you that you have the general disposition of a wet cat when you’re upset?”

Remus tried and failed to keep down a smile. “I seem to recall you bringing it up on occasion, yes.”

His dark eyes softened and he bumped their elbows together. “He’ll be okay.”

“I know.”

“Really, Loops. Cap’s going to be just fine. Lily doesn’t sugar-coat this kind of stuff, and he’s a tough guy. Mild pneumonia doesn’t stand a chance. Besides, we’ve only got four days left and we need you to kick some ass out there.”

If Remus was a little more emotionally vulnerable, he would’ve burst into tears. Instead, he settled for leaning his temple against Talker’s with a quiet ‘thanks’ and allowed himself to be pulled into a side hug. Across the dining hall, Finn shot him a thumbs-up and a wink. “Love you, man.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Talker teased. “The internet is already coming to your aid, you know.”

“About…?”

“Not only have those asshole reporters become a new meme, you’ve also got a shit ton of people bringing up past mistreatment of athletes in the press room. You’re the face of a revolution, Loops.”

“I’ve been the face of too many revolutions for one person,” he groused, not even bothering to duck out of the way when Talker ruffled his hair.

“Well, one more won’t kill you.”

---------------------------------------

Remus’ heart raced as he stepped off the plane. The logical part of him knew that Sirius would be waiting outside the security gate, but everything else screamed to see him now, now, right now so he could be sure he was alright. At least he had sounded healthier on the phone the night before—Remus wasn’t sure what he would do otherwise.

“Deep breaths,” James reminded him as they walked toward the baggage claim. “I’m sure he’s—”

An excited shout broke through the thick crowds. Remus’ heart skipped a beat, and then he was running, racing through the people that parted for him as his vision tunneled. His carry-on hit the ground with a low thud that he hardly heard as Sirius lifted him straight off the ground and held him tight.

“I love you,” Remus said immediately, locking his ankles around Sirius’ lower back and squeezing his eyes shut. “Are you okay?”

In lieu of a response, Sirius pulled back and kissed him, cradling one side of his face in his warm, warm hand. Two weeks may as well have been an eternity. He broke away after a moment, searching his face for any signs of illness or pain. “I’m fine,” Sirius said softly, as if he could read his mind. “I promise. A little tired and sore, but there’s no lasting damage.”

“Don’t do that again,” Remus said into the side of his neck as he hugged him close. He smelled like home. “Not when I have to leave.”

Sirius’ arms were steady around his back. “I won’t.”

“I’m going to grill you on everything as soon as we get home.”

“I know.”

“But right now, I’m just going to hug you because I missed you and I worried myself into a hole, like, every night.”

He could feel Sirius’ smile against his shoulder. “I know.”

#remus lupin #sirius black #coops #thomas walker #talker #james potter #lily potter #sweater weather #lumosinlove #my fic #fanfic #sick fic

[creepling]

anything could happen (irl!quackity x reader)

pairing: irl!quackity x genderneutral!reader

word count: 2,805

summary: the reader is roomates with karl jacobs, and he is beginning to be concerned about the reader. when karl invites the reader to hang out with him and his friends, the reader is hesitant. however, they end up having a very deep conversation with alex.

tw: swearing, use of alcohol (mild), some angst, ends with fluff!!

alternative link: ao3.

I sneaked into the apartment as best as I could. I knew if I made one faint sound, the living room light would switch on and a very judgemental Karl would be sitting on his fancy couch (that he spent way too much money on) shaking his head and tutting at me like a disapproving mother.

And behold, that's exactly what came next when I dropped my boots too hard onto the ground when slipping them off. Only the lamp next to the couch flicked on. Karl paying mind to the electricity bill, I suppose.

"Have a nice night? Or should I say, very early morning?" God, he sounded angry. It took a ton of pressure to make Karl angry, making him impatient was like putting pressure on hard metal. And yet, my lifestyle really rubbed Karl the wrong way.

"Damn, you really stayed up late for me?" I tried to joke off, plopping myself onto Karl's fancy couch. His tongue rolled along the inside of his cheek, his arms crossed, he couldn't even look me in the eye. Instead he just muttered, "No, I just finished streaming."

After a very awkward pause, Karl finally spoke.

"Why do you do it?"

"Do what?" I asked, narrowing my eyes.

"I used to think maybe you were seeing someone, y'know like just the one person. Then I caught on it's more than just one person. You go out a drive with a different person every weekend, whether that be to hook up with them or just hang out."

"And what's up with that?" I asked, a little irritated. "Geez, Karl, I know we're different when it comes to relationships. But everyone is different— why can't you respect that about me?"

"It's not—" Karl said, a little to loudly, getting annoyed. He must've felt like I wasn't listening to him. He eventually lowered his voice and continued. "It's not the acts themselves that bother me. It's that you do these things, and you're never satisfied. You still hang out with people that you don't even like— you always come back and tell me how toxic they are. And then you hook up with people and say how it wasn't enjoyable. I just want you to be happy, and seeing you do things that make you feel unsatisfied worries me."

Karl could not have explained it better, his words perfectly summed up my feelings in the past few years. Ever since I had to get back up on my feet after hard times, being able to live as a roommate with Karl; have a roof over my head. Sometimes I just put myself in uncomfortable situations because I feel like I am not good enough.

"I understand, Karl. I honestly do. But— it's all I have. I have no one else to depend on." My eyes, like Karl's moments before, could not bare to look at him.

"You have me, (Y/N). You can hang out with me and my friends." At this moment, Karl had a tint of a smile on his face and he placed his hand on my drooped shoulder.

I could not contain the scoff that left my lips. "Me and your friends are so different from each other. I barely know anything about video games or Minecraft or streaming. I've talked to your friends before and I never know what to say to them."

"There's more to us than just our jobs, (Y/N)" Karl said, a small chuckle leaving his lips. "And what the hell are you talking about! My friends think you're so cool and always ask about you! I mean, I remember you and Alex—"

"I barely know Alex! We literally shared one laugh together because I knew the meme he referenced." I said, a smile plastered on my dumb face. Maybe I was smiling because deep down, I was beginning to remember how fun Karl's friends were. To be honest, I always felt a little jealous when I would hear Karl and his friends belly laugh on a stream. These dumb-asses were literally being paid to hang out with each other. Meanwhile, I busted my ass for a minimum wage and hung out with people that never see me as a priority. Maybe one day Karl's rich Youtube friend would give me money to do some stupid challenge.

"I'm not gonna lie, out of all my friends, Alex is the one who asks about you the most. At first he would do it to tease me— making sex jokes about you and us. But when he eventually met you, he asked genuine questions about you. Like the other day, he asked me out of the blew about if you went to college or worked a job."

I definitely did not admit it to Karl, but I actually found that flattering. Yeah, maybe I thought Alex was a little too loud on Karl's streams and I would have to cover my head with a pillow to try sleep at night. However, when I met him for that short moment when Karl's friends came to the house, he was genuinely a very funny guy. I remembered we were the same age, he was Mexican and studying law. If he remembered anything about me, I have no idea.

When I couldn't hide my smile of flattery, Karl looked at me and smiled back. He got up from the couch, about to turn off the light, but stopped himself and turned back. "Hey, instead of going out with your shitty friends next weekend, you should stay here. I'm inviting some of my friends to hang out. I think it would be cool if you joined us." Karl said without hesitation, leaving his words as an open thought.

"I'll think about it." Was all I could say, which was enough to make Karl smile, then wish me a goodnight. When I got into my room and crashed onto the bed, I left the invitation in my mind to think about until the next week.

It was finally the weekend again, after a long weekday of working I sat at my desk after putting on some casual clothes. Sometimes, I just liked to get ready in case last minute plans popped up. I still had the idea of hanging out with Karl and his friends in my mind. Yet, I began to feel nervous. I do not know why, but being surrounded by new faces always made me tense. I count myself as a pretty confident person, but there was something about Karl's friends that intimidated me. Maybe it was their crude humour or 'fame' status that made me feel iffy. Either way, I sat there, looking at my wall blankly, hearing the faint noises of Karl arranging the living room for his friends arriving. As a fumbled with by sleeves and chilled out to music, my bedroom door flew open and a really happy Karl stood there.

"So? Are you joining us tonight?" He asked, anticipating a positive response.

"I don't know, Karl." I lightly groaned, the nerves still having a hold on me.

"C'mon, (Y/N). It's nothing too big. Some of the guys are having beers, which I know you enjoy." Karl winked playfully.

I barked out a laugh when I heard his words. "You always say I have an alcohol problem!"

"Exactly! Let your alcoholism be the reason you hang out with us!" Karl was trying to drag me out the room at this point.

"Piss off!" I laughed, feebly slapping Karl.

"Please . . . They really want to meet you again!" Karl dragged me into the living room. Then, a sharp knock came from the door. "Too late! They're already here!"

Admittedly, it was awkward at first. The group immediately wanted to play video games, which I guessed was going to happen. I respectively sat on the couch and watched them play as if I was just watching a movie. I smiled throughout, watching them bicker and yell at each other through competitive spirit. The energy was chaotic, but enjoyable. It was a different environment I was use to, it was more relaxed, but still had the fun aspects I chase for. For the first time in a while, I felt like I could act like myself; the chill version of me. I was not afraid of being judged or talked down to. The nerves that consumed me hours before slipped away effortlessly.

The few bottles of beer I had throughout the night had gotten to my head eventually, my heavy eyes were opening and closing as I snuggled up to the edge of the couch. I checked my phone now and then, scrolling through social media. By this point, some of the group had fallen asleep from drunkenness, or went home. The string of people left were beginning to wind down; Karl offered spare pillows and blankets for the ones who wanted to crash. From the silence I assumed everyone, even Karl himself, were drifting off to sleep. Until I heard a voice acknowledge me.

"Not going to sleep?"

It was Alex. I realized once I looked up, seeing he was exiting the kitchen with another drink, with one beer in his other hand that he was beckoning to me. I took it, mumbling a thanks, my eyes trailing towards him as he took a seat next to me.

"I'm used to staying up late at the weekends, so my body clock is all over the place." I confessed, smirking down at my beer bottle before taking a light sip.

"At least you aren't a light-weight like most of these idiots." Alex joked, looking around the room at his friends. "I suspected we would play more games, but I think people couldn't hack anymore. It's a shame though, I felt like we didn't include you too much."

It was considerate for Alex to say that, but I chuckled dismissively. "I didn't feel left out, don't worry. I enjoyed the company. I needed a chill night like this one."

Alex smiled at that, and immediately looked down when he did, but it was still contagious enough to make me smile. For a short moment I took in his appearance. He hadn't changed much from the last time I saw him. Still wore a beanie that took up 90% of his head, no matter the weather.

"I don't know if Karl mentioned but—" Alex began, suddenly becoming bashful. "I bought the beers for you, as a kind of present. I remembered you drinking them the last time we were over."

"Oh my God— Karl didn't say to me . . ." I said. "That's so thoughtful of you, thank you so much."

He really did that? Considering we were just acquaintances, I did not expect that. I had drank them throughout the next, since they were my favourite. He remembered something so miniscule about me. I then added, "You didn't have to do that."

Alex was biting the bottom half of his lip before he said, "I mean— I wanted to get you a little something. We all did— really. We always feel bad coming over here and never having the time to get to know you. This is your house just as much it is Karl's."

I scoffed after taking a swig of my drink. "It's more Karl's house than mine. He's the one that lives in it. I'm always working or out hanging out with people. The only time I'm ever here is when I'm sleeping or eating. In fact, this is the first night in I have had in months."

"What do you do then if you're barely in the house?" Alex asked.

I became a little tense. Remembering Karl's chat last week made me realise how useless my life was. Karl was right, the things I do and the people I hang out with do not benefit me in a positive way. My 'friends' haven't even texted me today to ask why I'm not hanging out with them. I truly never had anyone that cared for me. I sure haven't had anyone do something as small as buying me my favourite beers. I shook my head and muttered, "Nothing interesting . . ."

My face must have exposed my sadness, as Alex had a look of concern on his face. To ease the tension, I looked over to him and twitched a smile. However, I don't think it convinced him. God, I hate worrying people.

"I know we barely know each other yet. But— If there's something on your mind, you can always talk to me about it."

Normally I dread hearing words like that, but looking at Alex and how calm he seemed to be around me convinced me I could trust him in that moment. Before I realized, I was spilling my train of thought all over the atmosphere. I told Alex about my 'friends'; how I feel like they never give a shit about me. I confessed that I am unhappy with my life, that I feel like I am wasting my time and potential. I admitted my distain for making Karl worried about my wellbeing every time I came back to the apartment. Lastly, I affirmed that tonight was the first time I felt happy among another's company in a very long time. How I felt content, knowing no one would judge me or think I was taking up space. I thanked him again and again, knowing that his act of service was little to him, but absolutely gigantic to me.

"What you and your friends did tonight, no one has ever done to me in a long time. It was so miniscule, I know, but it's more than I have ever experienced. For once, the kindness felt genuine. Is it wrong to think like that?" My eyes looked at Alex, desperate for reassurance.

"Absolutely not, (Y/N)." Alex shook his head. "From what you have told me, you have every right to feel the way you're feeling. Not gonna lie— your friends sound like dicks."

"They are dicks!" I laughed out, wiping the loose tears from my eyes. "And I am sick of being associated with them! From here on out, they are not my friends anymore." I turned my whole body to face Alex at this point, my sudden movement alerting his attention. "If you don't mind, can I count you, Karl— everyone else— as my new friends?"

The smile that emerged from Alex's face warmed my chest. "You don't need to ask, (Y/N)" He said, "We already counted you as our friend."

The happiness that swelled in my chest consumed me in that moment, and it stimulated me to enrobe Alex into a hug. His body was tense from my sudden touch, yet he relaxed easily into my body and his arms moulded into my touch. The fragrance clinging to his sweater engulfed my nose, making me nuzzle deeper into his shoulder. Alex chuckled and the vibrations tickled me, making me scoff out a laugh.

We met each other's gaze as we pulled away from the embrace; analysing the tint of blush on his cheeks, tracing to the bridge of his nose. He ruffled the hair on top of my head, making me laugh and nudge him playfully. Our instant smiles welcoming the space between us.

"So . . . got anymore tired yet?" Alex asked, raising a brow.

I shook my head and slowly looked around the room. Clocking the console lying on the coffee table, I grabbed it and my fingers began to awkwardly fumble with the joystick.

"First step of becoming friends, should be you teaching me how to be a pro-gamer." I joked, giving him a playful smirk.

He rolled his eyes, cringing as he grabbed the other remote. "It's not for the faint hearted," He joked along, "I think you'll get the hang of it, though."

For the rest of the night, into the early morning, we played games. We laughed our asses off, had mini arguments; stirring some of the others out of their slumber when Alex couldn't contain the volume of his voice.

Anything could happen, I realized. If I seek positivity, I will eventually find it. Thankfully, I was able to admit — I discovered it already.

TAGLIST / if you would like to join my taglist, click here !

#quackity x reader #irl!quackity x reader #quackity x you #quackity x y/n #gender neutral reader #quackity x gn!reader #quackity imagine #quackity fanfic #mcyt fanfic #mcyt imagine #mcyt x reader #youtuber imagine #quackity angst #quackity fluff

[troubatrain]

set it up - a. beauvillier

a/n: i started this idk 9000 years ago with three different hockey boys but i’ve never written for tito and this could be 6k words of absolute garbage but i think you guys will like it?? it was inspired when i watching the Netflix movie Set It Up, which I absolutely love because who doesn’t love a romcom. I wanna thank @nazdaddy​ for giving it a quick read like halfway through to hype me up you’re a real one!!

You felt sick.

Your feet hurt, your head was pounding and you were absolutely soaked. It started in the morning, waking up late for and having to sacrifice your morning coffee so your boss wouldn’t kill you. Then there was the workday from hell, skipping lunch to work on a project because your boss’s son had a brain the size of a raisin. By the time five rolled around, a storm had sweeped into New York, soaking the city streets on a day when you didn’t have an umbrella on hand. The subway packed, and by the time you’d gotten back to your apartment you were absolutely exhausted. You were looking forward to a night in, a glass of wine and ordering take out.

Then you were met with the sight of a pink scrunchie, sparkling against your door and stopping you dead in your tracks.

Rose was your best friend, and that was the sole reason why you haven’t murdered her yet. You’d lived with Rose since you were freshman in college, randomly paired up as roommates and you got lucky she turned out to be your friend. In all of those years, she’d been with the same guy who she met approximately four hours after you moved into your dorm. Cam was great, until one day he just wasn’t. Rose still didn’t know what happened, but after grieving the longest relationship she’d ever been in for months, she was finally ready to start dating again. Turns out, dating again, was going to ruin your life.

You furrow your eyebrows, rubbing your hand over your eyes and trying to remember if she mentioned having anyone over. You open your phone, remembering how you turned on do not disturb sometime after she sent you her tenth meme of the day while you were working your ass off.

Having Kyle over for dinner - among other things, can you stay out for a bit?

You lean your head back, letting out a small scream in frustration. You hear a laugh behind you, and you turn around to be met by your neighbor. Anthony Beauvillier was an okay neighbor. He was quiet, usually giving you some sort of heads up that he’d been having a party which was rare. You knew he was gone most of the time because of hockey, but you never cared to ask any questions further than that. One thing you did notice about your neighbor, was just how handsome he looked in a suit on the rare occasion you caught him in the elevator.

“You okay?” Anthony asks, turning his head to the side, “Are you locked out?”

“No,” You sigh, debating whether or not you really needed to drop this on him, “Rose has a friend over, and I missed her text to tell me to stay out.”

“But you’re soaked,” Anthony points out, pointing to the water that was dripping off of you, “Come by me.”

“Oh you don’t have to do that, I’ll just-” You start to decline his invite, but his eyes were kind while they were staring at you, an amused smile on his face.

“C’mon Y/N, I’ll get you some dry clothes,” Anthony smiles, opening up his apartment door and insisting you came in, “And I’m not going to cook all of this for myself.”

Anthony holds up the grocery bags in his hand, soft eyes and a smile to match staring back at you. You nod, taking the invitation inside because it beat sloshing around in your heels, “Thanks Anthony.”

“You can call me Beau if you want,” Anthony shrugs, pointing down the hallway of the apartment that was identical to yours, “My rooms down there take whatever you want.”

Anthony moves around his kitchen, his mind wandering about why he felt compelled to invite her neighbor inside. Really he felt bad, you looked like you were having an awful day and getting sexiled from your own apartment probably would have been enough to break you. Anthony was tired too, his body was sore from a rough practice earlier that day. Not to mention the team was on a five game losing streak and while Anthony knew he could be doing more himself, he knew Mat wasn’t playing up to usual standards either.

Mat was a mess, and it was starting to drive Anthony absolutely crazy. He thought he was in love, a random girl he followed on Instagram who he took out a few times. Mat thought it was something, turns out she thought it was something casual. Now, his usual cocky and charismatic best friend was just a sad shell of himself. Selfishly, Anthony wanted him to get over it because if he did then they’d probably win a few more games and Trotz wouldn’t have them skate until someone threw up.

Then it hit him, the second you walked back into the kitchen with his clothes hanging off your frame while you pulled your hair back an idea came to Anthony’s head. If you wanted peace and quiet, he could give it to you, “Does Rose do this a lot?”

“Lately,” You sigh, sitting at the barstool next to the island, “Her boyfriend broke up with and after she cried for a few months she decided to be single and that’s ruining my life.”

“What if I could help?” Anthony asks, raising his eyebrows at you.

“You don’t need to let me into your place because Rose is-” You go to tell him no - whatever idea he had couldn’t be a fix all solution for your current problem.

“My teammate Mat, he’s single, and honestly sad, but he does have his own place where Rose can spend all her time…” Anthony suggests, dragging out his last words to give you a minute to think.

“What if they don’t even like each other?” You ask, stating what you thought should be the obvious.

“We’ll just set them up on a few dates, I’ll give Mat advice that you give me and it’ll all work out,” Anthony argues back, “We’re in complete control here.”

“But then it’s not real,” You remind him, that if you told Mat exactly how to date Rose it wouldn’t be Mat dating Rose at all.

“Does it matter?” Anthony asks, “You get a quiet apartment and my team gets a few wins, “What's the harm?”

“The harm is our friend's feelings,” You say, your hands in the air while you continued to talk. You were stopped by a ding on your phone, a text from Rose giving you a fair warning that her friend was staying over. You roll your eyes, “You know what - fine.”

“Really? You’re in?”

“Don’t make me regret this.”

***

You didn’t know why Anthony had you meeting him at the coffee shop just a few blocks away from your building, but judging by the all black outfit he was sporting, something told you that it was because he was taking this set up thing too seriously.

“Are we spies now?” You ask, slipping into the chair and crossing your arms, “Because if we are you aren’t doing a very good job.”

“I’m not doing a good job? You’re wearing yellow,” Anthony says, “You could not be any more obvious.”

“Whatever, when’s Mat going to get here?” You ask, grabbing the coffee Anthony had waiting for you.

The plan was simple, Anthony knew that Mat knew who Rose was to some capacity, because Mat had told his friend on more than one occasion about how hot his neighbors were. So, you were both going to force them to actually speak to each other. Anthony suggested just telling them that you were setting them up on a date, but you insisted that if this was going to work they would have to think this happened without the will of the two of you. So you both invited them to the same place, and after you both conveniently miss your plans they would have to run into eachother.

“He should be here soon, I tipped the barista $40 to mix up their coffees and let us watch from their kitchen,” Anthony explains, holding up to his end of the plan, “Which by the way, was way more than I think they would have taken.”

“Oh I’m sure you’ll be okay,” You roll your eyes, reminding him that you were living with Rose to keep your rent down while Anthony could live alone comfortably, “Shit, I see them.”

You both got up, sneaking into the back where the barista who was working just shook her head at the two of you. You peek out, watching the scene unfold in front of you. Anthony wraps his arm around your chest, pulling you back into him, “I swear if you get caught.”

You try to push the thought about how good Anthony smelled, or how nice his arm felt around you while you tried to focus on Rose who just grabbed Mat’s coffee by accident. Mat tells her it’s his, a joke about how familiar she looked following shortly after. Their conversation was brief, and for a minute you thought maybe it wasn’t going to work. Then you saw Mat slip his phone out of his pocket, holding it out for Rose to take.

“Oh my god, it’s working,” You exclaim, Anthony’s hand flying over your mouth immediately. He mumbled something in French, and there was no way you were going to be able to make it out. Anthony’s phone dings, and he pulls it out to show a text from Mat sent promptly after Rose was out of the cafe.

I think I just asked your neighbor out.

Anthony was beaming, pulling his hand off your mouth while you both watched Mat leave the shop, “This date needs to be perfect.”

“It will be as long as you listen to me,” You say, turning around to cross your arms at him, “Because if this is going to work-”

“You almost blew our cover, I’m in charge here,” Anthony scoffs, “You’re like the worst sidekick in the world.”

“You’re the sidekick here.”

“No it’s you, you’re Robin and I’m Batman.”

***

“Here?”

“No.”

“How about this one?”

“God, no she hates seafood.”

You’d been trying to figure out where you were going to set up Mat and Rose’s first date for hours. Every restaurant Anthony mentioned just wasn’t enough, and Mat was dying for some help from his friend. Anthony was frustrated, mostly with you for not just choosing something and calling it a day.

“This is why you’re single, by the way, because these places are just meh,” You argue, pulling his laptop from his hands, “Where’s the romance?”

“I’ll have you know I’m very romantic,” Anthony scoffs, not having any of your shit, “Ask any girl I’ve ever dated.”

“Seems like they’re all gone, wonder why,” You hum, scrolling through the Google search.

“Fine, how about this? He takes her to a show because you said she loves musicals,” Anthony suggests, pulling the laptop from your hands, “After Mat sets up a dinner by his place because he’s got a sick rooftop and if all goes to plan Rose will be there all night.”

You whip your head around to look at the man next to you, a grin on his face because he very well may have nailed it when it came to a first date. It was simple, yet fancy enough to keep Rose interested, “That just might work.”

You kept your mouth closed about why keeping Rose out all night was going to work for you. You had a date with someone you matched with on Hinge who seemed nice enough and the opportunity to take him home at the end of the night didn’t seem like a bad move. You didn’t want to let that information slip to Anthony, and you didn’t know why. You didn’t like him, and you were pretty positive he was only putting up with you because you were both trying to set Mat and Rose up.

“It’s a date then?” Anthony asks, pulling out his phone to give Mat all the details about the date he should be taking his neighbor on. Anthony made it clear to Mat he’d know, despite the fact that before the other night Anthony hadn’t had so much as a conversation with Rose or yourself. However, he had you and you knew Rose better than anyone.

***

You sat across from your date, twirling the glass of wine in your hand while he talked about his family. Ben was nice, and honestly you were enjoying his company. The restaurant was almost perfect, because knowing it made your rejection list for Mat and Rose’s first date location wasn’t something you could shake. Ben had to be oblivious to it, a delighted smile on his face from across you. Your phone rang on the table, and Anthony’s number popped up for the third time that evening. You knew Rose and Mat were well into their date at this point, and you had the night planned so perfectly nothing could possibly go wrong.

“You can take that if you need to,” Ben suggests, a gentle tone to his voice. You nod, feeling a little bad for stepping away from your conversation to answer the call.

“I’m on a date,” You grit out the second you were out of Ben’s earshot, “Someone better be dead Beau.”

“We’re about to be,” Anthony huffs out, “The chef Mat hired canceled and I have all of these ingredients and I know how to cook three things and they aren’t steak.”

“Beau,” You whisper harshly, “Figure. It. Out.”

“Absolutely not, if this tanks you’re coming down with me,” Anthony begs, “Please come to Mat’s and help me.”

So you did. You loved Rose too much to let this blow up in your face because of Anthony’s inability to cook a meal. Ben was understanding, accepting the excuse that you weren’t feeling well and even offering to pay for your cab back home. You declined, because you didn’t have the heart to tell him you had to bail out Anthony.

By the time you finally got to Mat’s, you could hear a string of curses on the other side of the door and the smell of something burning. You walked in and a pan was practically on fire while Anthony turned around frantically.

“Oh my god, move,” You demand, grabbing the pan and turning down the stove, “You really can’t cook anything?”

Anthony was dumbfounded, standing in Mat’s kitchen letting his eyes wander down your bare legs. You looked good and if you weren’t about to chew him out Anthony might have said something. But you were standing in front of him, arms crossed while you waited for him to say something. When he didn’t you sighed, pushing him out of the way and getting to work.

“Make yourself useful and set the damn table,” You demand, pointing a spatula in his direction. This dinner had to be perfect if this was going to work. You relished in the silence, getting to work on the dinner that you were left to save.

“So how was your date?” You hear Anthony’s voice float back into the apartment, and you turn around to give him a dirty look, “Or did I ruin that?”

“You didn’t totally ruin it, Ben was nice,” You shrug, not really wanting to get into it. The thing was, Ben was nice and that seemed to be a rare thing to find. Sure, you could have done without the boring work talk, but it was better than some of the other dates you’d been on lately.

“Hm, just nice?” Anthony stifles a a laugh, closing his mouth immediately when your eyes narrowed at him, “Sorry. I’ll leave probably boring but nice Ben alone.”

“I used to think you were nice, you know?” You snark back, plating the dinner just as Mat slipped in to grab the food.

“Dude you’re a lifesaver,” Mat immediately thanks Anthony and you had to roll your eyes at the sigh, “Wait aren’t you-”

“Rose’s roommate, uh yeah, she cooks all the time so I called her,” Anthony rushes to explain, the idea that Mat would recognize you going right over his head in a panic.

“Well, thanks you guys really saved my ass,” Mat says, grabbing two plates and heading up to the roof where you knew Rose was probably checking her teeth in nervous panic. 

It took forever to clean up the kitchen, Anthony’s sad initial attempt to cook was disastrous. You probably didn’t help, and by the time you were done cooking you had used every pan in Mat’s apartment. You could hear Rose’s voice in the hall and you both looked at each other in a panic. Anthony grabbed your hand, pulling you into the nearest closet to the kitchen.

“Quiet,” Anthony whispers, your mind far too distracted by your head pressed against his chest to care about just how small this closet was. You were trying to steady your own breathing, the closet was small and when Anthony took up most of the space you could feel a bit of anxiety creeping in. You wrap your arms around his waist, your fingers digging into his sides to grab a hold of quite literally anything. Anthony can feel it, how nervous you were so he took a chance and carded his fingers through your hair in an attempt to calm you down just a little bit, “Just wait until they’re in his room and I’ll take us home I promise.”

You nodded against his chest, closing your eyes and just letting Anthony provide you with any comfort he was willing to give. He was a bit snarky and definitely a little too bossy but he was the best you were going to get for the moment. You hear a door click and with Rose’s giggle on the other side you knew you were in the clear.

“So you really went through all of this just for a few wins?” You break the silence in Anthony’s car, looking out the window while he drove you both home.

“I mean, yeah, when Mat plays his best so do the rest of us,” Anthony shrugs, “Don’t tell me I could be playing better, I’ve heard it enough.”

“I wasn’t going to,” You defend, your voice small, “Do you think we could get them away for a night next weekend?”

“Hot date? Boring Ben doesn’t seem like he’d sleep over until the third date,” Anthony jokes, tapping you on the thigh.

“Sort of, I have my boss’s birthday party and I just want him to hate me less,” You admit, plus the office gossip always seemed to revolve around the fact that you never brought a date anywhere.

“I think you’re impossible to hate, trust me I’ve been trying.”

“You’re an ass.”

“Do you want my help or not?”

***

Everything was going wrong, like very wrong. The bigger plan was actually going the way it was supposed to, Rose and Mat were off to an Airbnb in the Hamptons for a night that Anthony just happened to mention to Mat during practice the day after you cooked them that dinner. That, however, was the only thing going well for you. You were dressed up, the black dress you were wearing looked absolutely killer on you. Your leg was poking out of the slit that was appropriate for a work event and the date you were supposed to be on, but your date was nowhere to be seen. Turns out Boring Ben wasn’t boring at all, or he was just a total douche and you never realized. Regardless, you were dateless yet again, and you had to admit it was a bit of an ego killer too. You thought about not going, but after telling a few of your coworkers that not only were you going, you were bringing a date.

You take a deep breath, bracing yourself for the passive aggressive comments from the newlyweds who seemed to litter your office. You had ten wedding invitations last summer from your coworkers alone, and now you had to show up dateless for what felt like the millionth time in your life.

“Woah,” You hear Anthony’s voice as soon as the elevator opened, a low whistle escaping from his lips until he realized you were without your date, “Where’s that Ben dude?”

“He didn’t show if you really need to know,” You complain and Anthony could feel his heart break just a little.

Anthony sighs, taking a look at his watch and then back at you. You looked hurt, despite the smile plastered on your face that he could see right through. He was going to have a night in, maybe even invite over the girl he’d been hooking up with but in his heart he knew what the right thing to do was, “Give me five minutes to change?”

“No Beau you really don’t have to come, I got stood up, it's on me,” You rush out, stopping Anthony dead in his tracks.

“It’s not your fault that dude was an asshole,” Anthony scoffs, “And you look too good to not have a date.”

Anthony didn’t say another word, unlocking the door to his place and coming back out less than five minutes later in a freshly pressed suit, “No tie okay?”

“No tie is fine,” You squeaked out, watching Anthony fix the cuffs of his shirt. Everyone thinks a man putting on a suit is hot right? It wasn’t just that he looked damn good in it, “You can still back out.”

Anthony didn’t back out, in fact, he was a better date than you thought he could be. He was being a good sport, especially when you came to the realization your boss was a huge Islanders fan. He had Anthony by his side all night, no doubt pestering him about the season. You felt awful, and while Anthony had a smile on his face you couldn’t help but feel guilty for putting him in the situation in the first place.

“I met that boyfriend of yours,” Your coworker Stella says, nudging you with her elbow, “He seems like a keeper.”

“Oh he’s-” You went to deny any indication that Anthony was your boyfriend but you knew Stella better than that, and just like she did at everyone Monday morning team meeting, she was interrupting you before you had a chance to finish your sentence.

“And don’t even tell me it’s not serious he couldn’t stop talking about you,” Stella grabs your arm, and you raise your eyebrows and look at Anthony. He catches your eye, sending you a wink while he goes back to listening to whatever your boss was rambling about, “See? So cute.”

The night was going smoothly, and by the time dinner rolled around you were done for the night. One too many glasses of wine had your head resting on Anthony’s shoulder while your boss's wife made a toast. His hand was resting on the exposed skin on your thigh and if you weren’t convinced you were overthinking it - you may have thought Anthony was putting in a little more effort.

“I’m sorry my boss was chewing your ear off,” You whisper, catching Anthony’s attention, “I don’t want you to think I brought you because you’re you and he likes your team.”

“I don’t think that,” Anthony assures you, his lips just inches away from kissing on the forehead, “And he doesn’t hate you, he told me liked you.”

“He likes you, seems like everyone does,” You muse, after having gotten compliments all night about what a joy your boyfriend was you were sure Anthony was a better date than he was an actual companion.

“Better date than Ben?” Anthony asks, and you nod with a grin on your face.

Anthony wasn’t sure what he was doing or why. In the short time since he invited you into his place he only learned how annoying you can be, but he’d be a liar if he didn’t think it was cute. It was cute that you thought Mat and Rose could actually fall in love. It was cute that you never kept quiet when you were both sneaking around because something got you excited. And it was downright adorable to watch you laugh at your boss’s wife who was teasing her husband in her speech. He liked you, and he never thought about it until he saw the heartbroken look on your face when you told him your date stood you up.

“Ready to go home?” Anthony whispers, your eyes were getting heavier from the wine, and he wasn’t sure how much longer you would hold up until you fell asleep on his shoulder. Not that Anthony would have minded at all, he might even have preferred it.

By the time you’d gotten back to your apartment building, you made it clear why you limited yourself on wine at events. Anthony kept refilling your glass before you had a chance to stop him, and now he was practically chasing you down the hall because you insisted on running away for no reason at all.

“For a professional athlete you’re pretty slow,” You poke Anthony in the chest, who was currently fishing through your purse for your set of keys. He finally finds them turning them into the lock and opening the door, “Beauuuu.”

“Yes?” Anthony asks, grabbing your waist while you tripped over your heels.

“Do you think Mat really likes Rose?” You ask, the question wasn’t really for Anthony at all. It was coming from a guilty feeling that had been stewing inside of you for a few days. Rose seemed smitten, and a part of you knew a lot of those dates were just planned by you.

“He does, it’ll all work out,” Anthony assures you, because the frown on your face told him that if he didn’t he was about to have a crying Y/N on his hands and he didn’t want to be the one to make you cry.

“Promise?” You ask, finally slipping off your heels and leaning against the doorframe. You wanted him to stay, use the age old it’s late excuse for a few more hours where he was close to you. His apartment was across the hall, and asking him to stay would be silly. You watched him head out the door, turning around to give you one more look and answer your question.

“Yeah I promise.”

***

This entire thing had gotten out of hand, and Rose and Mat’s relationship was becoming a chore. You had stopped them from killing each other twice in the past week, texting Anthony almost exact directions on how Mat was going to fix whatever stupid he said. Mat didn’t know, or maybe he did and he didn’t care to say anything about how with your help his relationship with Rose would be over before it started. Now, you were hiking across the city for flowers so Mat could apologize to Rose for forgetting her mother’s name as if she didn’t talk about her family constantly. You finally got them to Mat’s wiping a bead of sweat off your forehead when a text came that rocked your world.

I think I love Mat, he literally had these delivered after I got mad at him.

Attached was a picture of the flowers, and a guilty feeling churned in your stomach while you made your way back to your place. You stopped in the hallway, looking at Anthony’s door biting your lip and thinking about what the consequences of this all really was - and it was eating at you.

You were fucked, completely and utterly fucked. It seemed wrong, like everything in your best friend’s love life was a lie you created because it was. So you panicked, and snuck away to Anthony’s without a second thought. You knocked twice, a sleepy hockey player appearing on the other side. 

“Rose is in love with Mat,” You state, pushing Anthony into his own place and walking past him.

“Isn’t that what we wanted?” Anthony asks, watching you pace through his apartment.

“It’s not real, everything Mat knows about Rose is because you told him,” You explain, stopping in the middle of the room, “We planned their dates, we did everything, and when they realize they might not as much in common as they think Rose is going to be heartbroken and-”

“So, you got what you wanted? She’s always over there,” Anthony counters back, not mentioning the hot streak his teammate was on.

“You don’t see anything with this?” You ask, furrowing your eyebrows at the man you thought you knew in front of you, “That your friend is going to be with someone when their relationship is built on a lie.”

“You act like he’s going to marry her,” Anthony groans, not even realizing until after the words left his mouth about how awful that sounded. Your jaw had dropped, your eyes wide while you look at Anthony, “Wait Y/N-”

“I’m telling them the truth,” You say, a stoic robotic tone to your voice. You thought about telling Rose just minutes before you left your place, but you stopped yourself before you ratted out your friend. Now, it seemed like it didn’t matter. Anthony was going to be a selfish asshole regardless of what you did and you weren’t going to let that sham of a relationship continue, “I shouldn’t have listened to your stupid idea to begin with.”

***

You walked out of Anthony’s life after that, and in the week that’s passed since, he was miserable. He didn’t know what you told Rose, but he definitely heard the arguing you were having with her from across the hall. He knew he should have stepped in, but the way you looked at him when you left was the only reason he didn’t. You looked at him with such disdain, like the mere indication that he didn’t care about his own friend’s feelings were the most awful thing he could have done.

Maybe it was, either way the guilt was eating Anthony alive. He called, but you never picked up. He texted you, using some dumb excuse about needing to grab a package outside his door while he on a road trip but an answer never came. Hell, he even tried to email you. The only thing left to do was walk across the hall and knock on your door, if you were even still there.

“Dude you’re doing it again,” Mat says, tossing a chip at his teammate and catching Anthony’s attention, “Just go over there and apologize.”

“Did you apologize to Rose?” Anthony huffs, annoyed with Mat’s attempt at giving him any advice.

“I didn’t have to because this was your fault,” Mat explains, reminding Anthony of exactly what happened after you left his place. You told Rose everything, and after what Anthony heard as a nasty fight - Rose and Mat spilt up once they realize they actually had nothing in common, “And fuck you dude because I still apologized to Rose after that.”

“Fine, I’ll go over,” Anthony budges, stomping out of his own place and across the hall to yours. He knocked twice, hearing some shuffling on the other end. The door finally clicked open, and when Anthony was met with Rose’s face, his shoulders slumped.

“She’s not here,” Rose leans against the doorway, her arms crossed at Anthony, “We’re, uh, taking some time away from each other.”

“This wasn’t Y/N’s fault it was mine,” Anthony rushes to explain, the reality of ruining someone's friendship settling in.

“I know it was,” Rose assures him, because she’d forgiven you just three days after you told her the truth. That wasn’t enough for you to come home, because your own guilt was eating you alive, “She feels too bad, and she doesn’t want to see you.”

That was it, Rose’s words were enough to have reality really settle in. Anthony Beauvillier was a massive asshole, and the reason you weren’t back in your own apartment. He did that. He was going to have to live with that guilt. And he didn’t know how to fix it.

***

It had been a month.

You didn’t know why you knew exactly how many days it’s been since you stomped out of Anthony’s apartment and into your own to tell the truth. But, you did know that exactly thirty days prior that’s just what you did. You told Rose everything, from the stupid plan to your own stupid feelings that seemed to

cloud your judgement. She was upset, and she had every right to be. You knew that she could have kicked you out of the apartment and told you to fuck off, and she did. Three days later, a much calmer Rose was on the phone telling you everything was fine and you could come back home.

You didn’t want to, because you knew Anthony was across the hall living his life just the way he had been before you stepped into it. He was going to go out on dates with girls that weren’t you, and go off on road trips for games he needed to play. He could set Mat up with someone else if he really wanted to, but none of those things would ever involve you again. You packed your stuff, and moved into a new place after couch surfing by a few of your friend’s places.

“You’re depressed,” Rose kicks your leg from the other side of your new couch, a movie night to celebrate your new place was in full effect, “I told you I’m not mad about the Mat thing.”

“I know,” You sigh, staring at the glass of fruity pink wine Rose had brought over, “I just-”

“You miss him,” Rose muses, a knowing look on her face, “It was never about Mat and I, it was always using us as an excuse to see each other.”

“It was about you guys at first,” You defend, staring at the blonde across from you who was looking at you intensely.

“He came and looked for you, after a week,” Rose says, holding onto the tidbit of information she’d been saving for almost a month, “I think he wanted to apologize.”

“Well he didn’t so it doesn’t matter anymore,” You snap back, Rose melting back into the couch to avoid being the next stop on your rage tour. You didn’t want to care about Anthony or his stupid biceps again, but you never stopped thinking about him.

***

Anthony wasn’t doing much better, in fact, he was doing a whole lot worse. He felt like shit, he was playing like shit, and he seemed just like Mat was when he came up with that stupid plan. He tried to throw himself into hockey, push his body where it had never gone before because then he wouldn’t have to think about you. He wouldn’t have to think about how much of a romantic you were or how you helped with even if he didn’t deserve. Most importantly, he wouldn’t have to think about how heartbroken you looked when he told you he didn’t want to come clean because it didn’t matter.

Anthony was doing the same thing he’d been doing all month, stalking your social media profiles in an attempt to see if you were doing okay. He knew you moved, and if he wasn’t on the West Coast maybe he would have stopped you. A text from Mat came in, one that had him rolling his eyes.

My rooftop in twenty it’s an emergency.

***

What Anthony didn’t know was that the same text was sent from Rose’s phone to yours just a few minutes prior. You rushed over Mat’s, absolutely terrified about what you could have been walking into. Except, when you got up to the roof there was nothing. No Mat. No Rose. Just yourself and-

“Fuck,” Anthony whispers, opening the rooftop door to reveal you on the otherside. It was just you, standing there just as confused as he was by the cryptic text from his teammate, “Uh Mat texted me to come?”

A grin threatens to break out on your face, just as the gears were starting to shift in Anthony’s. You were being set up, of course not as well as you would have planned, but it was a set up nonetheless.

“You know what they’re doing right?” You ask, breaking the silence. Anthony just nods, running a hand over his face without saying a word, “I’m going to go-”

“No,” Anthony rushes out, grabbing your arm and intertwining his fingers with yours, “I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry? You made me cry for weeks and almost blew up my longest friendship and all you have to say is sorry?” You questioned him, waiting for Anthony to come up with something better than that.

“What do you want me to say? That I didn’t want to stop doing this because I didn’t want to stop hanging out with you?” Anthony exclaims, “Because that’s the truth. I was being a selfish asshole, and I know that I don’t deserve your forgiveness but I feel awful for what I did to you. I was so scared to come and apologize because you have every right to tell me to go fuck myself and never speak to me again. The problem is, I want to talk to you. I want to listen to you talk about why you were a hopeless romantic, and take you home after you drank too much at a work thing. I-”

Anthony couldn’t finish his rant, because you pressed your lips against his before he had the chance. His hands were on your face, pulling you as closely as he could because he needed this kiss to show you that he wanted you. You finally pulled away, breathless while Anthony’s hands snuck down to your waist. His forehead was against yours, your noses bumping together while he whispered his next words.

“We’re not telling Mat this worked.”

“Oh definitely not, no more set ups?”

“Unless it’s me setting up our first date, consider it a promise.”

#anthony beauvillier #anthony beauvillier imagine #nhl imagine #nhl imagines #my writing

[mikauzoran]

Lady Noir/Ladrien: I’m Learning to Love (Walking Away from Things): Chapter Two

Many thanks to @shadownoble for the prompt for this chapter!

Read it on AO3: I’m Learning to Love (Walking Away from Things: Chapter Two: Starlight

Groaning in exhaustion, Adrien collapsed facedown onto his bed.

Yet again, his father had run him ragged with photoshoots on top of magazine interviews on top of variety show appearances. That wasn’t even counting the extracurriculars he still had to do and the significant workload of his university classes.

He was so wiped, he almost didn’t move to look at his phone when it pinged with an incoming text.

When he saw the sender, however, he was glad that he’d put forth the effort. It was Ladybug checking in on him.

“i remember you saying you had a busy day so i wanted to see how it went”

A second message quickly followed the first: “hang in there!”

His heart melted a little at her concern.

“Thanks for thinking of me, Buguinette. <3” he typed back. “Today”

He paused, briefly considering lying and telling her that it had gone fine. Ultimately, though, he decided on honesty.

“didn’t go very well. There were a lot of problems that put us behind schedule, and my father was in a bad mood. I’m surprised no one got akumatized, honestly.”

“are you okay?” she replied immediately.

He bit his lip.

“he didnt take it out on you did he?” she prompted, and he suspected that she already knew the answer.

Adrien winced, hedging, “I’m all right. Just tired. It was a long day.”

His father had, in fact, lashed out at Adrien, but he wasn’t about to tell her that. Ladybug was already on the warpath against his father, and he didn’t need to give her any more reasons to hold a grudge.

Several minutes passed with no response from Ladybug, so Adrien flopped back down on the bed and closed his eyes.

He was just starting to doze off when a knock on his window pulled him out of the dazed limbo between sleep and wakefulness.

Adrien sat up with a jolt and found Ladybug smiling and waving from the other side of the glass panes.

He fumbled for the remote on his nightstand and hurriedly pointed it at the windows.

“Good evening,” she greeted cheerily as she stepped down into his room. “It’s not too late for a visit, is it?”

“A visit from you?” he chuckled. “Never. For you, my window is always open.”

“Good to know,” she laughed, taking in his rumpled, worn state. “I actually came to make sure you were doing okay and see if you wanted to go stargazing with me, but you look pretty beat.”

Sheepishly, he admitted, “I might be a tiny bit dead on my feet, but I’d never pass up the opportunity to spend time with you, My Lady.”

She didn’t know if she was ever going to get used to hearing him say that with Adrien’s face. It was taking all of her available energy to keep it together around him because she knew that treating him differently would only make things worse and defeat the purpose of her knowing his identity in the first place.

Oblivious to his partner’s internal struggle, Adrien got to his feet and was just about to call on his transformation when he remembered and winced.

“…Except…I promised Plagg that if he were good today, he could relax and watch his Netflix shows and eat Camembert in his sock drawer the rest of the evening.”

Ladybug shrugged, unconcerned. “You don’t have to transform. Just put a jacket on so you don’t get cold, and I can carry you.”

Cheeks burning, Adrien did as bid, slipping on a jacket and then taking her proffered hand.

The feel of her suit on his bare skin was odd but not uncomfortable. He couldn’t compare it to any material he was familiar with.

Not for the first time, he wished that there didn’t have to be a barrier between them.

“At least we’re one step closer to that reality with her knowing my identity,” he tried to comfort himself.

Meanwhile, Ladybug was internally freaking out and glad she still had the thin veil of anonymity to hide behind.

Almost a week after learning her partner’s identity, she was still struggling to reconcile Chat Noir with Adrien, and the feelings she had for both of them were making things complicated.

With a smile carefully pasted in place, she scooped him up into her arms and set off over the rooftops.

She didn’t go far—only to the Eiffel Tower a few blocks from the Agreste Mansion.

“Do you know much about the stars?” he asked as they settled into their usual spots at the top of the monument, away from the prying eyes of the public.

“Not really,” she confessed, sheepishly pushing a lock of hair out of her face. “You?”

“A little.” He pointed up at the sky. “Even though it’s autumn now, you can still see the summer triangle. There’s Vega, Deneb, and Altair.”

She nodded as she made out three bright stars that seemed to form a triangle.

“Over there by the moon, you can see Jupiter and Saturn,” he added, motioning to what looked like two big, dazzling stars.

She frowned. “How can you tell them apart from regular stars?”

“Planets don’t twinkle,” he explained. “Since they’re closer and bigger, their light doesn’t get distorted by the Earth’s atmosphere as much as the stars that are farther away. So, while stars twinkle when dust particles pass between them and us, planets shine more steadily because the dust particles don’t obstruct as much of their light.”

It was the kind of thing that wasn’t out of place coming from Adrien, but Ladybug couldn’t imagine having the same conversation with Chat Noir.

She blinked at him in amazement. “You’re really smart, Chaton.”

“Me? Smart?” A short bark of laughter caught him by surprise, and he shook his head. “I’m just a nerd whose parents kept him locked up most of his childhood. I read a lot to fill the time, so I’ve got a ton of useless trivia floating around up here.”

He tapped the side of his head. “For example, did you know that cats purr to self-sooth? Or, how about that the first cat video was filmed in 1894?”

Now it was her turn to burst out laughing.

That was her dumb cat, all right.

“You are such a dork,” she chortled, shaking her head in disbelief.

He shrugged, looking back up at the sky with a grin.

It was a huge relief that things between them hadn’t changed all that much since she’d learned his identity. It made him think that maybe things would be okay.

Her laughter slowly faded, and she scooted in a little closer, joining him in gazing up at the stars.

They sat there for several minutes before she spoke again.

“…You know…” She swallowed, mentally steeling herself for the confession. “…there was something I wanted to talk to you about.”

“Hm?” He tipped his head to the side, his curious gaze meeting her apprehensive one.

“I thought you should know that, about six years ago, I had this ridiculous crush on you—Adrien you,” she clarified.

His eyes flew as wide as galaxies. “You… What?”

“It wasn’t a celebrity crush or anything!” she rushed to assure, waving her arms wildly. “I…I sort of know you in real life, and I had a crush on you.”

His mouth opened and closed several times, and, after a handful of false starts, he managed to respond. “You said that you had a crush on me. Like…as in past tense.”

He drew in a slow breath, mentally preparing himself for the worst. “May I ask what I did that made your crush a past tense thing? Did I do something wrong?”

“Oh!” she gasped, waving her arms like an air traffic controller yet again. “No! Nothing like that. It wasn’t your fault. It was me.”

He winced. “So…‘it’s not you; it’s me’ is what you’re saying?”

She cringed, realizing what an insincere cop out that sounded like. “No. For real, Adrien. It was me. I needed to prioritize my duties as Ladybug, so I didn’t have time for dating, but…mostly…it was that I realized that I didn’t know you as well as I should for how obsessed with you I was.”

She averted her eyes as shame bubbled up hot and red on her cheeks. “It was unhealthy, and I decided that I needed to take a step back and focus on my friendship with you…so that’s what I did. I concentrated on being your friend.”

Tentatively, she looked back up at him. “I think you needed a friend more than anything at the time anyway. …Though, I’m not sure if I even did a good job being your friend. I mean, I completely missed how bad your home life is, how much you hate your hobbies, how little control you feel like you have…”

He shook his head, setting his hand on her shoulder. “Buguinette, no. Don’t beat yourself up about it. I don’t let people see that side of things. Not even Nino knows the whole truth. I’m sure you did your best to be a good friend to me.”

He bit his lip and hesitated. “…Though…I kind of wish you would have said something about your feelings for me.” He accompanied his words with a wink and a teasing Chat Noir grin.

She rolled her eyes and swatted his arm. “Flirt. You would have turned me down flat. You would have been nice about it, but you’d never have gone out with me.”

He grimaced when he realized that she was most likely right. “Probably. I may be stupid, but at least I’m loyal.”

“You’re not stupid,” she groaned. “Be nice to yourself, you dumb cat.”

He leaned in and rested his head against hers. “…Thank you. It means a lot to me that you care.”

“Of course I care,” she sighed. “You have no idea how much I care about you—both sides of you.”

She took a slow, steady breath. “…Plenty of other people care about you too, Adrien. That’s why I think you need to open up with your friends. Nino at least should know about how bad things are. He loves you, and he’d do anything he could to help.”

Adrien pulled away, straightening up and shaking his head. “I don’t want to be a burden on them.”

“They would never think of you that way,” she insisted vehemently.

“I don’t want them to worry when there’s nothing really they can do,” he amended.

“They can at least listen,” she argued. “They can text you cat memes and check in on you and let you vent. Isn’t that all you really want? People supporting you and validating your feelings and reminding you that you’re loved?”

He pursed his lips, silently considering for a long stretch. “…Yes, but…”

“Marinette told me what happened at the photoshoot today, what your father said to you.”

Adrien winced.

He’d known that Marinette was there at the shoot interning, but…

“Marinette heard that?”

Ladybug nodded.

Practically everyone on site had heard Gabriel railing at Adrien.

“He was wrong, you know.” She reached up and gingerly started massaging his scalp. “You’re not useless. He has no idea what he’s talking about.”

Adrien made a noncommittal noise as he closed his eyes and lowered his head to her shoulder.

“You’re amazing and wonderful and hardworking and kind and smart and brave…and the best partner ever,” she stressed with unwavering conviction. “Your father is blind if he can’t see how incredible you are.”

“Thank you, My Lady,” he whispered, voice brittle and trembling as he held in tears.

“…You should tell your friends,” she repeated, gently urging. “You should have support in your daily life, Adrien. I can’t always be there for you, but I want you to have that kind of support. You deserve it.”

“Maybe,” he mumbled into her shoulder. “It’s just…my friends all have really solid family relationships. I don’t think they’d even understand.”

“But they’d try,” she countered. “They’d want to try to understand. They love you.”

“It’s hard to tell people you respect that you’re not all right,” he sighed.

She kept pressing, desperate to get him more support. “They’re not going to think any less of you, Chaton. I don’t. …Maybe start with someone you know will be on your side. Maybe Nino? Or…or Marinette? She was awfully worried about you today. I’m sure she’d want to help.”

Adrien winced and pulled away, sitting up to meet Ladybug’s gaze. “Yeah, but I already told one girl I like that I’m a mess this week. I don’t think I’m emotionally prepared to tell the other one too.”

She stared at him, blinking slowly as her braincells tried to reconfigure what he had said into something that made sense.

“You… You like…?”

An adoring smile spread across his lips, and a soft blush lit up his face. He nodded, rubbing sheepishly at the back of his neck.

“Marinette,” he completed, voice full of affection when he said her name. “Yeah. I do. I have for a while now. She’s so sweet and thoughtful and fierce and courageous.”

He laughed. “I’m lucky she deigns to be my friend. Ladybug, she’s so out of my league.”

“I’m sorry. What?” she scoffed, not believing what she was hearing. “You—you who are not only Chat Noir but also Adrien Agreste—you think that Marinette Dupain-Cheng is out of your league?”

Earnestly, he nodded. “Ladybug, she’s amazing. She’s like you.”

She covered her face with her hands as her brain overloaded from how adorable he was.

“Marinette’s not out of your league,” Ladybug grumbled. “…and neither am I.”

His eyebrows slowly climbed up into his hairline.

“Shut up,” she replied preemptively.

A broad grin broke out on his face as he realized that maybe Ladybug’s feelings for Adrien weren’t entirely a past tense thing after all.

“Stop that,” she groaned.

“What? I’m not doing anything,” he chuckled, cuddling up beside her once more.

“You’re being smug,” she pouted, dropping her hands from her face and wrapping an arm around him.

“I would never,” he playfully protested.

A comfortable silence fell between them as they snuggled and gazed at the stars once more.

“…Maybe I should talk with my friends about what’s going on,” Adrien whispered after a long stretch. “It’s just really hard to be vulnerable like that.”

She gave him an encouraging squeeze. “We can practice, if you think that will help.”

He took a deep breath. “Hey, Nino? There’s something I want to talk with you about, if it’s okay.”

“Sure, Mec,” Ladybug responded, doing her best Nino impression. “What’s up, mon pote?”

“…My relationship with my father is in the rubbish bin, and I kind of hate my life,” Adrien groaned.

“Dude. That is it, Mec. I’m adopting you,” Ladybug as Nino decreed. “I’ll fight anyone who gets in my way. We’re gonna make this right.”

Adrien burst out laughing, leaning heavily on his partner. “I don’t know what I’m so afraid of. That’s probably exactly what he’s going to say.”

“So, you’ll tell him?” she pressed, mentally crossing her fingers.

Adrien blew out a long exhale. “Yeah. I’ll try to talk to my friends soon. You’re right. It’s more than I can deal with on my own, and I could seriously use my friends.”

“That’s what we’re here for,” Ladybug reminded, giving his hair a nuzzle.

#LadyNoir #Lady Noir #Ladrien #Adrinette #Adrienette #Miraculous Ladybug #Adrien Agreste #Marinette Dupain-Cheng #Ladybug #Chat Noir #MLB #Miraculous Ladybug Fanfiction #Adrien Agreste Identity Reveal #Ladrien with a Lady Noir dynamic #Snuggling #Stargazing #Love Confession #Accidental Confession #Fluff #Hurt/Comfort #Happy Ending #Partnership #Friendship #Friends to Lovers #Writing Prompts #Mikau's Writings #I'm Learning to Love (Walking Away from Things)

[batarangsoundsdumb]

yet another ask dump yeehaw!

do you ever think that jay's mother was one of those bitch who believes in horoscope and tarots and things like that and so he believes in these things too, or it is just me projecting?

sheila haywood took one look at jason's birthchart said 'nah this won't do' and left.

Wait, but what happens when the justice league does find out that Bruce and John fucked? Lmao it sounds like it would be hilarious, really, I don’t want a justice league that doesn’t make fun of Bruce for like his entire life.

barry runs out of the meeting immediately and comes back with an entire sti testing kit. diana fully seriously wants bruce to get tested while bruce is sitting there like 'come on guys, you're being ridiculous, i already checked twice'

john is standing in the corner clearly offended while bruce is just like 'don't even say anything, constantine, you fucked a shark'

tim was like "i'm drake now" and everyone was like ahh so your fursona is a dragon and tim was like pffffft no. ducks.

on the one hand, good for him, on the other hand, bro, how do you still have a secret identity when your superhero name is just your last name,,,,

Your fic on ao3 was GOLD PLEASE CONTINUE I loved Dinah's cameo btw ( @purple-vixen

thanks so much! i already continued but this ask is like 10 years old because i'm a notorious procrastinator (also yes! i love dinah so much aahhhhhhhhhhhh)

I've FINALLY been watching the Batman animated series and I gotta say, after watching "the gray ghost" I am CONVINCED that Batman is a closeted super hero geek who was 100% freaking out the first time he met Superman and is just REALLY good at hiding it.

bruce internally: holy fuck holy shit holy fuck holy shit holy fuck holy shit holy fuck holy shit holy fuck holy shit bruce externally: get out of my city, alien

AHHH ur multimedia fic is the only thing that brings me happiness anymore continue it forever pls

uhh thanks, but can't continue it forever because my attention span is that of a toddler on crack on a good day and i can't function without at least 10 things going on at the same time and music in the background

Oi, so I'm getting into dc and watching batman the animated series, and they use fruitcake a lot. Which I thought was very funny and wanted to share w you - Denilla

wait like fruitcake (food) or fruitcake (derogatory) ?

young justice 🤝 teen titans slut shaming batman

tim drake and dick grayson to their respective teams 'you guys stop it, that's my dad'

Happyhoganon: If an eighty year old Batman had fought crime in Gotham City for decades and the only threats to him and the city lately are a wheel chair bounded Penguin, your usual purse snatchers and a few con artists popping up every now and then, how well could the Dark Knight do in maintaining the peace in Gotham despite him being just somewhat fit to do that as an elderly man (which says A LOT given how old he is)

uhh he'll probably do what my grandpa does and that is ruthlessly prank them until they die of shame.

in the death in the family interactive movie there's an ending where Jason is tasked with raising Damian and he decides he's gonna raise Damian to take down the waynes and al ghuls which uh maybe isn't great BUT the idea of Jason raising Damian... PRICELESS. CHAOTIC. I just need more people to know about this :)

yes i saw that wow holy shit but jason would accidentally drop damian on his head one (1) hour in and jason just yeets him into the lazarus pit.

Headcanon: The Penguin has a really hard time fighting any of the Robins because of his avian obsession means there's always a small part of his mind that's like "Birb. Child. Protect" ( @subspacecadet )

as soon as dick becomes nightwing the penguin is like 'you know what, fuck this dude' and shoots at him.

Y'all talking about King Shark dating Constantine, let's not forget about John literally hooking up with Satan

listen there's a clear difference between monsterfucker and satanfucker in that king shark is literally a shark and satan still looks like a normal dude

Does everyone in Gotham think Batman is a teen dad?

everyone in gotham thinks batman has been around since gotham was founded, but they do think that bruce wayne is actually a teen father and dick grayson's biological dad.

why. why would you do that fancast when you know it will only hurt people

what? i loved my fancast it was really well done. i did it with good representation in mind and i really managed that with alfred pennyworth being ✨italian✨

Seeing james charles a jason gave me psychic damage how dare you i need to wash my eyes

well that's a you problem isn't it?

do you think dick grayson thirst tweets about nightwing just to annoy his family/cause problems on purpose in general?

he thinks nightwing is hot, next question.

holy jiminy cricket batman, its as cold as the good lords ass crack in here!!

i- what? this is why i don't fuck with english expressions it's way too goddamn weird

Brooooooo, your teen dad!Bruce au is soooo good. I've got brainrot.

Honestly if you ever write anymore, I'd read that shit twice. Sign me the fuck up. Good stuff, Good Stuff.

uh yeah i'm thinking about writing a fic, but i have exams coming up and i don't wanna fail because that would suck. but after i'll certainly be writing more tho

your teen dad AU is so great! bruce acting like a big brother for all of like a week before he's telling everyone about his son. what if in the AU dick meets the JL because they need to rescue him? maybe he's in trouble/kidnapped at a gala and bruce starts calling for JL. clark finds him and has to fly with dick to bring him home - that's how dick and clark meet and superman becomes dick's fave hero. he goes around the manor thinking he can fly with a red blanket draped around him like a cape.

actually- if you want a young dad! bruce fic with like that kinda stuff(just with damian) go check uhh- in for a penny by cdelphiki. it's really good and bruce is like 24/25-ish. (and dick's there!!!)

This account has solely convinced me that Tim is a trash goblin ( @hamilcat-and-magic-turtle )

because he is. that boy has slept in dumpsters on multiple occasions even if he is the son of a billionaire.

Okay but when you said victory dance I did think of the whole justice league defeating the big bad and then they all start flossing

well that's exactly what hal jordan does and that's why batman uses a gun now. no but the victory dance in my opinion is like the 'we're all in this together' dance from high school musical.

The horrors in Invincible s1 was nothing compared to the comics, I cant wait for s2

oh well okay, i mean i personally react to horror and violence by laughing awkwardly so i can't wait to be called a monster for accidentally laughing at a mass murder.

I'm currently watching Batman: The Brave and The Bold and- Bruce is just talking about Oliver like he's an old love (@nightwings-kid)

okay im going to watch that lmao that's totally and completely in character for him tho.

The invincible comic is like super gratuitous with its violence so much so I'm shocked the show was able to adapt it in a faithful way! Anyway had the show been live action it absolutely wouldn't have the same impact as it does as an animated show and I'm so glad so many people agree with me on that

also because a live action casting would've been like uhh amanda stenberg for amber, the dude- the guy from the supernatural but with a mustache for omni-man, and scarlet johanssen for debbie grayson

Debbie grayson is a milf, yes. You're welcome for the invincible propoganda, now you can questions your life. Bruce def seems like the perfect father next to Omni-man. Like they really took a rip off justice league and I was like well, now I'm attached even tho I was like hah I know who they're supposed to be. And then bam- death gore death gore gore gore sad Mark grayson just had to have daddy issues. Why does every character have daddy issues. I'm sick of the attacks

because daddy issues make a person arguably funnier, that's why i'm not even remotely funny (haha good dad flex). i liked that it was dark contextually, but not in the colouring, bc i hate when it's like 'uh yeah graphic murder and now a shot so dark you have to sit in a dark room and squint at the screen to faintly see the characters. (like dcau ugh)

About the Wayne insurance, for a moment I thought you would put the video with moans over the waves.

i mean- i could've done that, but rick rolling seemed more family friendly.

Its the first time in forever that im surpise rickrolled, i usually expect it. Congratulations (i really should know better this is tumblr)

i get rickrolled so often but i actually like the song so i dont really give a fuck

Actually, my information about Damian and John's kids is outdated because it was revealed that the old men telling the kids stories about the Supersons were actually Jon and Damian the whole time. I was blinded by my thirst for Grandpa!Bruce Wayne but I was wrong... I liked my version better, tbh (@artemisa97)

fair enough. but i'd honestly like to see damian and jon getting together, just because it's a really fun dynamic and their friendship was really cute when they were kids. (also idk maybe it would be nice to have one (1) main batfam/superfam character that's not cishet)

How am i JUST finding your blog skdskfkd you're so fucking funny and ur takes are hot

i thought u were calling me hot :( but youre not :( crime detected (but lmao thanks)

So I have depression and I swear that your memes are one of the few things that have made me laugh so thank you 💛🥺 (@katekanebadass)

aw you're welcome, and i hope you're doing okay!

The metropolis memes are so funny, I love them 💀😌

i think metropolis is also so fucking funny it deserves more attention imagine having your entire police force being upstaged by an alien from kansas and his kids

as an american i feel your complete lack of knowledge of us geography is just so sexy (platonic) ❤️

thanks so much (i also don't know any other geography, i'm not kidding, like you can tell me you're from hungary and it will just blank, there will be nothing that comes to mind)

In the DC universe they don't say "Can't have shit in Detroit" they say "Can't have shit in Gotham"

this just reminds me of that guy whose porch got stolen like the steps to his door, and i'm thinking of people living in gotham and waking up without a front door and going "can't have shit in gotham"

honestly all i know about chicago is the bean, so. what would gotham's famous sculpture be?

gigantic gargoyle statue in front of one of the police precincts because a villain thought it was a smart way to keep the police inside, but it's too heavy to move.

why tf do people go on about how batman "works alone" or how he's the "lone wolf" when he like 38290202 members in his family

bc people think it's cool that a grown man in his 30s has no friends or family instead of calling it what it is (sad)

Bruce is gotham's sugar daddy

why would say something so controversial yet so brave.

my favorite batfamily fanfictions are the ones where they use their shitty codenames, unironically, in any context

dick: gerard way are you in position, gerard way are you in position

tim: for the last fucking time, my codename is 'totally not count olaf' this week, abbafan 3000

dick: shut up my codename isn't 'abbafan 3000'

dick: it's 'abbafan number 1' and you know it

I have a feeling Tim drake is ur favourite batfamily member but okay u don't have favs if u say so ok

i mean he is, i won't deny it. but i love each and every one of the batfam just the same, i just have a weak spot for short dumbass nerds, because i'm a short dumbass nerd.

Omg i fuckin love boy meets world too fam shsjkfk

bro boy meets world was the shit!!! it was just fire and awesome and so fucking great like bro. it was so good im not even going to be accepting criticism

you know I find the whole "joker completes batman" thing a bit disgusting considering the horrendous stuff the batfamily went through because of the joker and let's not get started on the "joker has a point" thing like yeah he's this cool complex villain but he's absolutely batshit crazy

like yes! i get what you mean the joker just fucking sucks man he doesn't do shit for batman's character or the batfam he's literally just annoying as fuck. like the joker has a point' shit is so stupid. i will accept 'magneto was right' because he fucking was and i think he didn't do anything wrong, but joker? he's just like that. he's not even cool and complex he's just a weirdo with a bleach kink at this point.

ALSO YOUR RACISM POST- SO TRUE BESTIE

thanks bestie, i'm glad you agree.

in today's essay of why I think cass should become batman- I was thinking Tim would probably be the most efficient batman in many ways but I also think he wouldn't want to be batman tbh none of the batfamily members would want to be batman because they're trying to outgrow him but cass is the one who wants to represent the symbol that is batman

absofuckinglutely i will say it again and again that cass represents the batsymbol more than anyone in the batfam, in batgirl (2000) she literally didn't care about anything else than bruce's oath to not kill, she thought the batsymbol was more important than anything in gotham. she's just an excellent character because her motivation to not kill is not 'i'm scared i can't come back from it' or 'well my dad says no murder so i'll go along with it' but that she's killed somebody as a young child and she never wants to kill a human ever again and that's so fucking beautiful for a new batman like yes.

need more cass, duke and tim inclusion in gothamite memes

yes yes, a tall order of cass, duke and tim coming up in 1-14 business days

oldest to youngest batfam members cus I'm confused as shit

okay order of being taken in: dick, jason, tim, cass, damian, duke order of age: alfred, bruce, dick, cass, jason, tim, duke, damian (though cass and jason are around the same age general consensus is that cass is a little older)

I'm so confused Steph is a redhead?? like how was it that hard to get this right? the source material is literally right there and free

cw is jared, 19

do you receive anon hate? if so, how do you deal with it

uh no, i'm not remotely popular enough to get anon hate and i also don't say a lot of things that would attract anon hate, but i do send anon hate to @the-real-peter-parker because he forgot about the specialists from winx club

Wait how many languages do you speak??

uhh- 5 if you include latin, but that's a dead language and i'm really bad at it. but english, my native language, german, and french also, tho german and french not fluently.

You can mix aguaepanela with aguardiente 😈 and is tasty

okay but now i'm curious if the liquor deserves the 😈 emoji or if that's a you problem. but i googled it and it looks like something you'd take one sip of and then not remember the rest of your evening.

#i love all of you guys so much thanks for all these asks #some of these are literally from march but fuck it #the day tumblr puts dates next to anon messages is the day i close my inbox crawl into a hole and die #it's such a basic task to answer asks but i don't want to bother anyone with asks clogging up their timeline #and if i don't have a funny or good answer i'm like 'uhh okay won't answer it now then' #so this is for you #also i deleted a few asks because it gives me mental pain to see my inbox go over 50 and it's almost at 100 #i was complaining about having too many asks to the-real-peter-parker like months ago and then i had 45 asks in my inbox #now it's amassed to going over 100 twice #but no i love all of you and you're great and you're all fantastic and i lvoe you #muchos kiss kiss #kiss kiss for my kiddies lvoe you #invincible spoilers #dc #dcu #dc comics #ask #anon #bataranswers #i really wanna try aguapanela now i'm gonna see if i can find panela somewhere and review it for you babes #uh yeah that's it #muchos gracias for all your questions babes

[spaceskam]

and as our lives change

Summary: Alex’s dad sold his childhood home without telling him, so Michael decides to do something about it.

Tags: sexual content (literally just the first scene), emotional hurt/comfort, friends with benefits, lack of communication

ao3

Michael watched as Alex’s head fell back, his jaw dropping as he caught his breath.

He swallowed hard, his eyes scanning over Alex’s body where it was perched on top of his in a way that felt like a renaissance painting. He was stunning. And Michael really, really didn’t know what to do about that realization. Or, he didn’t know what to do about the constant revelations he was having when it came to Alex.

Michael was straight and frustrated when this whole thing began. A weird string of events, mostly him whining and Alex being Alex, led to him getting a handjob from Alex on the couch in the apartment he shared with Max. There was no kissing or any kind of romantic shit afterward or during or before. Alex just politely went and washed his hands with a ‘will you be able to focus now?’ and they got back to their work. Michael was absolutely not able to focus.

The first time he was able to convince himself that it was just a thing between bros. No feelings, nothing weird, it was just clinical and casual. But Michael couldn’t sleep and he couldn’t stop having an entire crisis over it.

And yet, the next time he was alone with Alex in the apartment, he found himself with his hand between Alex’s thighs.

It kept happening and escalating. They didn’t talk about it or make rules or establish boundaries‒which was an admittedly bad thing‒but they seemed to both understand that they didn’t kiss, they didn’t do anything that could be perceived as romantic, and they didn’t acknowledge it. It did leave Michael to have his bisexual awakening through a series of borderline panic attacks followed by getting Alex to do whatever to clear his mind. He didn’t know if Alex knew exactly what he was clearing, but it didn’t matter.

Michael was 99.9% sure he wasn’t straight now and 87% sure he wasn’t just gay. Sometimes Alex would do something like stick his fingers inside him and order him to continue reciting his presentation without mistakes and he would consider the idea that maybe he actually was gay and the reason it didn’t feel like this with every girl he’d been with was because he was gay. But then he remembered that it didn’t feel like this with every girl he’d been with because he usually barely knew them.

He knew Alex.

He liked Alex.

It was just… a little confusing on what kind of like. Alex was his best friend and he didn’t want to screw that up. He was sure that if they just kept it like this, then they wouldn’t change anything and they could continue to just be best friends. But then he would find himself staring at Alex when there were other people around and it would make him question if things were actually still normal at all.

“Fuck, you’re getting better at that,” Alex said, pulling off of Michael with an objectively disgusting and yet still horribly enticing sound.

“Honestly, I feel like you did all the work,” Michael said. Alex huffed a laugh and cautiously got off the bed. Standing up, Alex looked even more like a work of art.

“Yeah, but the first few times I still did all the work and you were still lacking.”

“Hey!”

“Just being honest.”

Michael licked his lips and watched as Alex walked into the bathroom, leaving the door open as he found a rag with practiced ease. His back was muscular and still a bit flexed and Michael’s eyes followed it all the way down to his ass that was, admittedly, quite a mess and still just. There. For Michael to see. And to think he thought he was straight for so long.

They didn’t talk about things like that. Michael knew that was objectively bad, but it felt good. He liked Alex just taking over and doing what he wanted to him. It was just. A little confusing. Because they weren’t dating and this was something that very clearly had a time limit. Things would have to change eventually, just he didn’t know in what direction he wanted them to change in. Or what he was allowed to have them change in.

So he kept his eyes on Alex and watched as he cleaned himself off. When he looked over his shoulder, he caught Michael’s eye and grinned.

“I’m beginning to think you’ve got a staring problem,” Alex said, but then he had the audacity to stretch up. He brought himself to his toes and reached for the ceiling and let out a little moan as his shoulder popped. Michael’s head felt empty.

Alex washed the rag out and then came back to the bed, tossing it onto his stomach before he went to go find his clothes. Michael seemingly had to reboot his brain and couldn’t get himself to clean up until after Alex put his briefs back on.

Yes, things were weird and he didn’t quite understand how he got to this point, but he didn’t really want it to stop either. He wanted Alex to keep doing shit like this and smiling at him and maybe even kissing him if, you know, he felt like it. Michael would be lying if he didn’t think about kissing him more than he thought about sleeping with him.

“Okay, I hate to fuck and kick you out, but I’ve got plans,” Alex said once Michael was done and slowly trying to find his own clothes. That was enough to get Michael’s full attention.

“Plans? It’s already nighttime,” Michael pointed out. Alex just gave that little grin of his and shook his head.

“Sweet little innocent Michael.”

“I don’t think any of the shit we do qualifies as innocent,” Michael shot back. Alex smiled wider.

Michael wasn’t jealous. He didn’t even know what Alex was doing, how could he be jealous of something he didn’t even know anything about? He wasn’t. He just very much did not enjoy the idea of Alex going out with someone else after the sun had gone down. Not for any selfish reason, but for the fact that nothing good happened after the sun went down and he told Alex as much.

“What are you, my grandma?” Alex laughed. He double-checked that Michael had his jeans and boxers on before opening the door which was the real sign that this was actually over for the night.

Ianto, Alex’s kitten‒that technically wasn’t a kitten anymore but Michael would never stop calling him that‒strolled in like she owned the place. Michael grinned as he immediately came to rub against his leg. He didn’t have to look up to know Alex was rolling his eyes.

“Hi, baby,” Michael cooed, reaching down to scratch his head, “Your dad is kicking me out to do secret things.”

“Shut up,” Alex laughed, “I’m not kicking you out. If you wanna stay, you can, but I won’t be here.”

“What are you doing that’s so late, though?” Michael asked, looking up to him. Alex sighed as he pulled his shirt over his head.

“I’m just meeting someone,” Alex said. Something twisted in Michael’s gut as he stared at him. Someone.

“Like… a date?” Michael asked. Alex took a deep breath and Michael knew that it was true. He was seeing someone.

Which. Was fine. Michael just thought he had more time. More time to understand what the fuck he was feeling, more time to get good at it, more time for whatever. That was. Okay.

“I mean… Not quite. Just, you know, someone,” Alex said, shrugging and looking away.

The way he spoke about it was almost worse than if he just said that he was trying to date people. Before they started this whole thing, Alex had always been honest about who he was seeing. Michael had a ton of memories and texts of Alex telling him about guys he’d been with. They were friends. But things had changed.

“Okay,” Michael said, standing up and quickly putting on his shirt and grabbing his phone, “Then I’ll leave.”

“Well, don’t be mad,” Alex said. Michael closed his eyes for a moment and then set back into motion to look for his shoes.

“I’m not mad. I just don’t wanna hold you up,” Michael said. Since I clearly couldn’t satisfy you, he didn’t say.

He tried not to let his ego be too bruised. It happened. Alex was the first and only guy Michael had been with. Of course he would want someone more experienced.

“Michael,” Alex said, grabbing his arm. His eyebrows were furrowed and he looked a bit lost. “Do you wanna talk about this or something?”

“No,” Michael said simply. They didn’t talk about this. Talking about it now would make it weird.

He pulled out of Alex’s grasp and put his shoes on, giving Ianto a couple more pets before he headed for the door. Alex didn’t try to stop him and that was telling enough. Tomorrow, maybe, Michael would text him or talk to him and they’d go on as normal. It made him feel a little weird, though, thinking about Alex sleeping with other people and not telling him about it. Wasn’t that, like, a rule of casual relationships? You let people know? Was he getting tested?

It didn’t matter. They were friends. This was fine.

-

Michael waited a whole three days without texting Alex first.

He couldn’t say why exactly he was choosing to be pouty and just choosing to let Alex be the one to reach out, but he was and he wasn’t really having much of an internal fight about whether he should reach out or not. He was going to let Alex do that, even if he missed him, because he didn’t want to seem clingy. Well, that and he was a little bit irritated, but he could focus on the not wanting to be clingy thing and feel better about himself afterward.

It was probably normal to get weirdly attached to the first guy you sleep with whether there were romantic feelings or not. He didn’t want to be attached to Alex, at least not like that. He wanted to be friends with him. Friends who slept together sometimes.

Michael just wasn’t sure if he could keep that up much longer.

And yet, when it hit the three day mark, he was tossing and turning and bed and craving Alex in some capacity. They didn’t even have to hook up, he just needed his friend. They could watch movies or do homework or literally anything and they didn’t have to talk. They had never gone this long without at least a meme or two sent between them. Weirdness from the other day aside, this was particularly annoying.

Michael pulled out his phone and let his thumb hover over Alex’s contact. He just had to hit it and ask if Alex wanted to come over. He could do that. Easy. Just hit it.

“What are you doing?” Max asked, breaking Michael’s mental discussion. For the first time, he was a little bit thankful that Max had basically no boundaries when it came to Michael’s personal life. At least it provided a distraction.

“Thinking about inviting Alex over, if that’s okay,” Michael said, tossing his phone onto the couch as he stood up. He needed a break from looking at it anyway. Max nodded his head, looking through the contents of the refrigerator.

“Sure, if he wants to after everything,” Max said. Michael’s eyebrows tugged together.

“What do you mean, after everything?” he wondered, standing up a little bit straighter. Instantly, his brain started filling with thoughts of what could’ve happened, all of which were probably over the top and wrong because if it was something dire like Alex getting hurt, there was no way Max would know before him.

It didn’t stop his mind from racing.

“He didn’t tell you?” Max asked. Michael shook his head and Max shrugged, taking his sweet damn time. “Oh, well, Liz said that his dad apparently sold the house he grew up in back in Roswell without telling him. Got rid of all of his and his brother’s shit without telling them and it’s apparently sold. I don’t know, if I were him, I’d be upset.”

Michael started at the back of his head, momentarily unmoving. His first thought was if he threw out Alex’s mom’s things too or if he kept it. He thought about the closet door that had his height marked alongside his brothers that the four of them secretly kept up after their mom left. He thought about the things Alex always said he was going to go back and get whenever he got his own place in the future, the quiet little admissions Alex only made whenever he was either drunk or one of them did something particularly mindblowing in bed that left them both a little hazy afterward.

Without replying to Max, Michael grabbed his phone and went to go find his shoes. Finally, without hesitation, he called Alex and held the phone to his ear as he fumbled to slide on his shoes. It rang and rang and rang and Michael was pretty sure he wasn’t going to answer, but he still grabbed his keys and went out the door.

Right before it went to voicemail, Alex answered.

“Hello?” he said. His voice was a little flat but otherwise didn’t give anything away about how he was feeling.

“Hey, how are you?” Michael wondered, stepping into his truck and pulling the door closed. He started it up and quickly put on his seatbelt.

“Fine,” Alex said. It didn’t count as an actual response because it was Alex and ‘fine’ didn’t actually mean anything. He’d said he was fine while having a panic attack in the library while trying to write an essay on some dumb book that touched on one too many heavy topics for the both of them.

“Okay, are you at your apartment? Is your roommate there?” Michael asked, backing up probably a little too fast but who cares. He didn’t hit anyone.

“I’m here, but Chris isn’t. Why?” Alex said, skepticism still lingering in his voice.

“I heard about your house,” Michael said. Alex stayed quiet. “Look, have the new people started moving in yet?”

“No,” Alex said softly, “Flint said they close tomorrow at two.”

“Okay. Next question, how do you feel about trespassing?”

-

Michael could feel Alex’s eyes on him as he moved about his kitchen, throwing shit together to make him something better than plain packaged ramen. He was blowing time, waiting for the sun to fall.

“We don’t actually have to,” Alex said. He was in a sweater and sweatpants and his hair was all tousled. Michael could only look at him for a few seconds at a time or he’d lose his mind over how cute he was. So, so not straight. “It’s over an hour away and illegal and we don’t have to.”

“If they haven’t sold it yet, I don’t think it’s illegal and I’m not going to google it because it’s much better if I just say it very convincingly,” Michael insisted, taking a spice bottle out of the cabinet that had the label removed and sniffing it. He coughed a few times, but it smelled like it was probably garlic powder so he threw it into the saucepan.

Ianto was rubbing against Michael’s legs, meowing away at the serious offense that he was taking due to Michael not giving him his full attention. He kept lifting his foot to stroke his back, but that was only so satisfying to a bratty little kitten.

When Michael looked at Alex, he looked like he was about to cry. His eyebrows were drawn together and his eyes were all glassy and he was all but pouting. Michael quickly moved the saucepan to another burner before turning around completely and reaching over the sink to get to Alex’s face since he was sitting at the counter. He held his face between both hands and looked him very seriously in the eye, something he’d do all the time when they were just friends before they made it weird between them.

“Hey, don’t cry, we’re going to see if there’s anything left,” Michael said, squishing his cheeks just a little bit. Alex huffed a laugh and pushed him off carefully.

“I’m not gonna cry and I’m sure as hell not gonna cry over that. My dad’s an asshole, but I should’ve expected him to do something like this,” Alex said. Michael pinched and prodded his cheeks for an extra second for emphasis until he got Alex to smile as he twisted out of his grasp. “Michael.”

“Stop looking so sad then,” Michael said, going back to cooking.

They haven’t mentioned the other day. Michael had no plans to be the one to bring it up.

“I’m fine,” Alex said, “I just hate him.”

“I’ll beat him up for you,” Michael offered before lifting the spoon to his lips. It tasted good enough.

Michael filled a bowl with slightly under-cooked noodles because Alex was fucking weird and spooned his makeshift sauce onto it. He stuck a fork into it and turned around to present it to Alex, giving him a smile. Alex was already giving him that look, the really sweet one he really only gave him out of nowhere and Michael had yet to really pinpoint what caused it.

Still, he liked being looked at like that.

“Thank you,” Alex said, accepting the plate, “You’re a good friend.”

Friend.

“No problem.”

-

Michael had only been to Alex’s childhood home twice and he had never been inside.

Both times were during their freshman year, while Alex was living in a dorm still and needed to go home every once in a while to get clothes or whatever. Michael had driven him and gotten to know him super well in those long car rides together and had also gotten very used to comfortable silences with him.

Now, Alex sat in the passenger seat and had his head against the window. His eyes were closed and he was so very clearly sad. Michael hated seeing him that way. He didn’t know how to fix it. Especially since this situation wasn’t something he could really fix.

“So,” Michael said, trying to lighten the mood, “How was your date?”

Alex was quiet for a moment before he huffed and tilted his head in Michael’s direction. Michael kept his eyes forward after that.

“Seriously?” Alex asked. Michael shrugged. “Now you wanna talk about it?”

“I’m not trying to have a formal talk, just making conversation. You used to tell me about your dates all the time,” Michael said. Before we started hooking up, he didn’t say.

Alex didn’t say anything for a small stretch of time before he eventually said, “It wasn’t a date, I was going to meet up with Kyle but I knew you’d freak out if we were speaking again, so I didn’t say anything.”

Michael felt a rush of emotions at that, blinking a few times as he processed it.

“As in… Valenti?”

“Yeah,” Alex confirmed. Michael couldn’t help the look of disgust that found his face. “Exactly why I didn’t tell you.”

“Nah, it’s fine, whatever, I’m not your boss,” Michael said, trying to seem like he didn’t care. There was no reason to care. Alex wasn’t his property.

“Right.”

“I was just asking.”

“And even if it was a date, it’s none of your business,” Alex said, though it had admittedly less of a bite than it sounded like he intended. 

“Absolutely not.”

“Just because we’re, like, hook‒”

“Do I turn left or right up here?” Michael asked, cutting him off. He didn’t want to talk about this. They didn’t talk about it. That would fuck everything up, that would force Michael to think too hard about something he probably already thought too hard about and he just simply wasn’t interested.

Alex took a deep breath and grumbled a ‘right’.

So Michael took a right.

He drove through the middle-class neighborhood, full of white people who had pools in their backyards and fences and an HOA that would probably make Michael cringe if he looked at the rules. Without much thought, he pulled into the little park that was in the middle of the neighborhood and parked his truck. Alex looked at him with a bit of skepticism.

“If I park in the driveway, it’s gonna be kinda obvious that someone is there,” Michael pointed out.

“Okay,” Alex agreed, stepping out of the truck.

The two of them walked side-by-side in the dark, only lit by streetlights. It was entirely possible there was some kind of neighborhood watch or maybe kids coming home from a date or people taking a late-night run, someone that would see them, but Michael didn’t see anything and decided to just act normal.

“It’s up here,” Alex said, voice soft. Whether that was because of the time of night or because of the fact he was seeing his house again, Michael wasn’t sure.

“Do you have a key still?”

“Yeah, but I don’t know if it’ll work.”

“Can’t hurt to try. Besides, if they haven’t officially closed on it yet, there’s probably a key under a mat somewhere or something,” Michael said. Alex nodded.

As they got closer, Alex didn’t say a single word. They went around back through the unlocked gate and he pulled out his keys, hands shaking a bit as he went to try it. Michael put his hand on the small of his back as a silent way to show his support.

The key fit in and turned with ease.

Alex let out a soft breath as he pushed the door open, blinking as he stared inside. Michael watched his face and waited for him to make the first move. This was for Alex. Michael very specifically chose not to think about why he was willing to go so far for Alex, possibly break the law.

Alex swallowed hard and took a step inside. Michael followed suit.

He stayed quiet as Alex navigated the empty house. There were no pictures or anything furniture left, just a dishwasher and an over and an empty space where a refrigerator was meant to go. Alex dragged his fingers over the countertop and slowly walked into the living area. That was even more empty, the space looking small without anything to fill it.

“The couch that was here had, like, three bloodstains from Clay because he had nosebleeds a lot,” Alex said, gesturing to the area it once was, “I think one of the stains might’ve been mine.”

“We can make new stains,” Michael offered. Alex physically cringed, his nose scrunching up, and laughed softly.

“You’re so fucking gross,” Alex said despite the sweetness of his tone.

“I meant innocent stains, like nosebleeds,” Michael insisted, raising his hands up. Alex rolled his eyes as a smile found his face, holding out his hand.

“Come on, let me show you upstairs.”

Michael accepted his hand and let him lead the way.

The stairs were simple and the hallway was small, jutting out in two different directions from the top of the staircase. It was all only lit by the moon and street lights shining through the window at the end of the hall. Alex tugged on his hand, pulling him to the left that led to two doors. He opened one without hesitation, tugging Michael inside.

The walls were painted an off-white color and the carpet was beige, perfectly standard. Nothing stood out except for the way Alex was holding his breath. Michael squeezed his hand and stepped closer.

“This was your room?” Michael asked. Alex swallowed and nodded, looking in Michael’s direction. Alex looked over his face before they locked eyes, taking a moment to just stare. He looked pretty like this. “Tell me what it looked like.”

“Okay, so,” Alex whispered, still not letting go of his hand as he took him to the far corner, “This is where my desk was. I wrote all my cringey poetry there. Had my first kiss while sitting there.”

“You did? That’s so cute,” Michael cooed, imagining a flustered, teenage Alex after getting his first kiss against his desk.

He knew Alex was actually upset when he didn’t shove him or tell him to shut up. Instead, he just pulled him to another space.

“My dresser was here. I hid shit in my folded pants to try to keep them from my dad,” Alex said, then tugged him a little further, “And my bed was here.”

“Did you do anything fun in that bed?” Michael teased. Alex didn’t bother laughing as he sat on the ground, laying down where his bed would’ve been. Michael laid beside him. “Are you okay?”

“I never wanted to come back here,” Alex whispered. Michael held his breath. “I hate my dad. I hate this place. But… he couldn’t even let me have even the shit I did want. Like, I have my mom’s guitar and, and stuff I use, but the dumb stuff.”

“I get it,” Michael said. And he did, kind of, one some level. Bouncing around and living in  group homes didn’t really present the best opportunity to accumulate dumb stuff, but he cherished the shit he did have.

Alex rolled onto his side and stared at him. Michael stared back. It was completely not the time for it, but Michael wanted to kiss him. Just once, really quick. Just to see what it felt like.

The room was silent as Alex reached across to him, touching his shoulder gently and gliding his fingertips across his neck. Michael watched him closely and waited to see what he was going to do. He didn’t move as Alex touched his jaw or his hair, didn’t flinch when he traced over his ear and his nose, didn’t breathe when he touched his lips.

“Thank you for coming here with me,” Alex whispered, “ I really appreciate it.”

“No problem. What are friends for?” Michael responded. Alex’s eyes flickered between meeting his gaze and going down to another part of his face, wasting a few seconds before he parted his lips to speak again.

“That’s what we are? Just friends?” Alex clarified, “Even after‒”

“When did you want to head back?” Michael asked, really not wanting to ruin the mood by thinking about things. About specifics. About himself.

But unlike every other time he deflected, Alex snatched his hand away from him like he’d been burned. He’d physically moved back a bit and hurt was openly displayed on his face in a way he wasn’t sure he’d ever seen. Micheal was a little speechless.

“Why do you always do that?” Alex asked quietly, “Why do you never want to talk about it? Are you that ashamed of what we do? If you are, I don’t think I can do this anymore. It doesn’t feel good.”

“What? No, Alex, I’m not ashamed,” Michael insisted. And he wasn’t. Overwhelmed was a much better word. “It-It’s just new and I don’t know how to really process what I’m feeling and I don’t want to push it.”

“That’s when you’re supposed to talk. Talking keeps people on the same page and makes things easier. So talk to me. Tell me what you want, tell me boundaries, tell me something. Fucking talk to me,” Alex snapped. Michael blinked, eyes wide as he looked at him.

And for the first time probably ever, his mind went blank.

Every thought and idea he’d ever had regarding Alex Manes went flying out of his mind. He couldn’t think of anything he wanted or any boundaries or literally anything. All he could do was stare. Even as Alex visibly got upset, even as Alex sat up and put his hands behind his head and effectively shielded Michael from seeing his face.

“I’m sorry,” Michael said, the only thing that could come to his mind, and debatably the wrong thing.

Alex gripped his hair in his hands tighter.

“You don’t have to like me like that. I don’t care either way. But you not telling me what you want is going to drive me insane. If you just want to be friends or if you just want to keep hooking up, that’s fine, but fucking talk to me!”

Michael opened his mouth to find something to say, literally anything, but instead, he heard a noise.

“What was that?” he whispered. Alex furrowed his eyebrows as he lifted his head. Another sound came, like a door opening.

“Oh, I can’t believe leaving it unlocked worked!” a voice said from downstairs, the emptiness of the house carrying it to their ears. Michael and Alex shared equally panicked looks.

“Well, it is our house,” the other voice said.

“Closet,” Alex hissed and they both quickly and quietly scrambled into the closet, closing the door behind them.

It was small and definitely not a walk-in, but they were able to press on opposite sides of the tiny space and not have to worry about touching. They both stayed as silent as possible, listening to the couple downstairs. Thank fuck he didn’t park his truck in the driveway.

But then the couple wasn’t downstairs, they were running upstairs and laughing and going to the other rooms across the hall. It would’ve been cute and charming if Michael wasn’t scared he was about to get caught and arrested for trespassing. But, considering they didn’t technically own it yet, didn’t they technically count as trespassing as well?

It was hard to really see Alex because of the dark, but, if he focused, he could sort of see his silhouette. He was probably still angry at Michael. Maybe he deserved it. Seriously, how ironic was it that they were stuck in a closet? Maybe they really should talk.

However, that only held his focus for so long when the door to Alex’s bedroom opened. Michael held his breath, listening and hoping they didn’t open the closet door.

“We’re gonna put the crib here,” the woman said as she stepped into Alex’s room, “And we’re going to paint the walls something more fun than this. Like, a purple, maybe.”

Michael kept his eyes locked on Alex’s body in the dark, trying to gauge the body language he couldn’t fucking see. He tentatively reached out, but he only felt air as if Alex had pressed himself so far into the opposite wall that he was trying to become a part of it.

“It’s gonna be perfect,” the man said, a rustle of clothing following his voice, “Our own house, our own little family.”

The woman laughed and the sound of kissing filled the room, loud and happy.

“New, happy memories. Especially once the baby comes,” she said, her voice warm and content. They kissed more, laughing and touching, and, god, this was too much of an invasion of privacy.

But all Michael could think of was Alex.

It probably wasn’t the best thing to be listening to how happy these strangers would be in the house that you found so miserable. A happy, young family, no less. Even Michael felt kind of cynical and jealous about it, though he often did when he saw loving parents.

Michael carefully pushed off the wall and took a silent step forward, hoping not to make any noise as the couple kissed and distracted themselves. He touched Alex’s waist and patted his way up to his face. Alex’s lips were folded in and his cheeks were wet, his breathing dangerously controlled. It was more than a little heartbreaking.

He took a step closer, wrapping his arms around Alex as quietly and slowly as possible so Alex could do something if he didn’t want him to touch him. He’d understand if he didn’t. But Alex didn’t push him away, instead letting his face fall into the crook of Michael’s neck. Michael put his hand on the back of his head and kept his arm around him, keeping him safe. Alex’s fingers clutched his shirt.

And, at that moment, he realized that he never wanted to stop doing that. He really, sincerely, wished to stay right there forever.

“Okay, okay, we should go finish packing,” the woman said and Michael really wished they would go. He weaved his fingers into Alex’s hair and held him a little tighter. 

“One more kiss,” the man said. They laughed and shared another kiss or two before they eventually left the room.

Michael held onto Alex and they stayed silent until they heard the footsteps go down the stairs and out the door. It echoed through the empty house as it closed. Only then did Alex give a small sniffle and took a heavy breath, clutching Michael tighter.

“I’ve got you,” Michael whispered, closing his eyes as he held him, “I’ve got you. I’m not going anywhere.”

They stayed there until Alex stopped crying, until he got his breathing under control, and Michael held him. He took the time to let his thoughts come to him, trying not to overthink anything and just let himself feel. What did he want? What kind of relationship with Alex did he want? What felt right?

And for once that answer came easy.

-

“I don’t want to be just friends.”

“Oh yeah? Took you that long to come to that conclusion?”

Michael rolled his eyes and scooted closer even though there wasn’t much space to eliminate. The drive back Alex’s apartment from his old house had been utterly silent, but Alex had stayed tucked into Michael’s side as if he was meant to be right there. All it did was confirm to him even more what he wanted.

They got into his apartment and Michael didn’t want to leave him alone. Alex, thankfully, didn’t want to be left alone. He was so clearly exhausted and they had pretty much immediately crawled into bed, laying as close as possible and fully clothed. Ianto, the brat he was, had happily decided to lay against his back which had Michael pinned between the cat and Alex.

Michael never wanted to leave.

“No, I’ve known that but that’s scary,” Michael said, shrugging, “And I wasn’t sure if it was just because of the sex or not.”

“Are you sure now?” Alex asked. His eyes were still a little puffy and Michael just adored him.

“I think so,” Michael said, “I know I never want to not be holding you when you’re sad.”

Alex huffed a laugh and rolled his eyes, but he nudged his nose into Michael’s.

“I want to talk,” Michael continued, “Which is… terrifying, but I want to. ‘Cause I was kinda mad when I thought you were sleeping with other people. I want to be the only person you’re sleeping with. So, I want to talk and I want to set boundaries. I want… I want to be gross and happy like that stupid couple that broke in.”

Alex smiled slightly, his fingers slipping beneath Michael’s shirt just to rest against his bare skin.

“Okay,” Alex said, “In the morning?”

“Obviously. You need cuddles and sleep right now,” Michael insisted. Alex rolled his eyes again, but he moved forward to lay his head on Michael’s chest. It was a little strange because they’d never actually cuddled like this before.

What the hell had he been wasting all this time for?

“And in the morning,” Michael added, wrapping his arms around Alex, “I’m going to kiss the shit out of you. Like it’s gonna be the best kiss you’ve ever had. I’m gonna blow you away. If you want, I mean.”

Alex laughed, a genuine laugh that Michael hadn’t heard in far too many days. That was a good thing.

“I want it. I can’t wait.”

Neither could Michael.

#malex #malex fic #michael guerin #alex manes #roswell new mexico #my fic

[pan-fangirl-345]

Are You Happy?

Summary: Your boyfriend is acting weird and you start to have doubts.

TW: Other than doubts about a relationship, there is one small mention of murder, and I think that’s about it, but as always, if you feel that I missed something please feel free to contact me!

A/N: This was supposed to be full blown angst but I wasn’t in the mood so this was the result. I have no idea what this is anymore.

You frowned as your boyfriend slipped his hand out of yours and he slipped into the nearest store.

Iwaizumi had been doing that a lot lately. He had been disappearing and leaving you by yourself with no discernible reason.

“(Y/L/N)-chan! I didn’t know you were going to be here today,” Oikawa said as he appeared out of the crowd, arm in the air to catch your attention.

“Hello Oikawa,” you replied, connecting two and two together at the appearance of your boyfriend’s best friend. “Are Makki and Mastun with you too?”

“No, just me today. Why? Are you disappointed that it’s me?” Oikawa inquired with a pout.

“No, of course not, but you guys just seem to be attached at the hip. Where’s Iwaizumi?”

“I don’t know. He said he had to go visit his grandmother this weekend,” Oikawa said, frowning. “I hope she’s alright. She’s a lovely lady.”

“He would’ve told you if something was wrong,” you assured him, trying not to frown.

Why would Iwaizumi lie about going on a date with you? And why was he dodging his friends when you were around?

“I’m sure you’re right, well, have a good day!”

“You too Oikawa,” you told him, waving at him with a smile as he walked off.

As soon as he was out of your sight you wrapped your arms around yourself. So what the girls had been telling you for the past few months was true. Iwaizumi really was ashamed of you. Of being with you.

Then why was he still dating you? Why hadn’t he left yet? Did he really think you were one of those girls that would try to make him stay?

“Sorry about that, I thought I saw something that you might’ve liked,” Iwaizumi lied, appearing out of the store.

“It’s-” You cleared your throat, trying to get rid of the lump that had formed. “It’s alright.”

“(Y/F/N), are you okay?” Iwaizumi asked, concern lining his face as he watched your body language.

“I’m fine, just a little tired. We’ve been here for almost two hours,” you reminded him, only half lying to him.

“Do you wanna go home?” he asked.

You opened your mouth to say no but something stopped you. Instead, you nodded, slipping your hands into your jacket pockets.

“Then let’s go home,” he said, wrapping his arm around your shoulders, making you wince, not that he noticed.

You wanted to ask him about it, wanted to tell him it was okay if he wanted to end things, but you couldn’t force the words out.

It wasn’t until you were in the back seat on the bus headed home when you finally asked, “Iwaizumi, do I make you happy?”

It seemed like a good time to ask. He couldn’t go anywhere and there was only one other older lady near the front of the bus.

“What? What kind of question is that?” he snapped, brows furrowed.

You shrugged, trying to hide behind your hair. “It’s just that . . . well, you don’t seem happy.”

“Of course I’m happy,” Iwaizumi said, laying his hand on your thigh, trying to get a good look at you. “Who told you otherwise?”

“It had to be a person?” you asked.

“I don’t completely understand what you just asked me,” he admitted.

“You suggested that someone told me you were unhappy. Why would someone tell me you were unhappy? It just makes me think that maybe you’ve been telling someone you were unhappy, just . . . not me.”

It was quiet for a few moments, long enough that you started fidgeting with your hands, before Iwaizumi said, “Baby, I’m not unhappy.”

“But are you happy?” you asked, watching his face.

“Of course,” he said, frowning. “Why are you so sure that I’m not?”

You looked down in your lap again, wincing. “You seem ashamed of me.”

The words slipped out before you could stop them and you flinched, turning away from him.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t’ve-”

“I’m not ashamed of you,” Iwaizumi interjected, reaching for your hands. “Baby look at me. I’m not ashamed of you.”

“Then why do you run every time your friends might see us together? Why did you run earlier when you spotted Oikawa? And every time we’re in school together you never touch me. This is the first time we’ve gone out on a date where there was a chance of being seen with each other.”

You could feel your eyes stinging and you fought them back. You hated crying in general, especially in public.

“If you are ashamed of me, even a little bit, you should walk away now. I can’t be with someone who doesn’t want to show me off to his friends, who doesn’t even want to be seen with me in public. I may not like myself very much, but I have enough self-respect to know that I need someone who is going to be there for me no matter what. If you aren’t that guy, then leave, walk away.”

“Baby, I’m not going anywhere,” Iwaizumi said, brows furrowed as he gripped your hands, laying his forehead against yours. “I’m not ashamed of you. My friends are a lot,” he explained. “And . . . I guess I just wanted to keep you to myself for a while.” He paused, before he added, “I’m a jealous man, (Y/F/N). It’s not that I don’t trust you, I do, but I don’t trust other people. Especially my friends. They’d flirt with you just to mess with me.

“I just don’t want you to see that side of me yet. I wanted you to see the side that would hold your hand and kiss your forehead. I didn’t want you to have to deal with it yet.”

“Did you think I wouldn’t be able to handle it?” you inquired.

“I knew you could handle it, but I didn’t want you to have to,” he replied, rubbing his nose against yours lightly. “I’m with you, I’m not going anywhere.”

“Okay,” you murmured, touching his face lightly, kissing his forehead.

“Never doubt that I want to be with you (Y/F/N),” Iwaizumi told you, brushing his thumb over your cheek, the warmth from his hands leaving a small line of warmth over your skin. “You need to talk to me when you start feeling like this, okay? I need to know how you feel.”

“Right now I’m just tired and I want to cuddle with you on the couch while we watch terrible comedy movies,” you told him, smiling.

“That’s my girl,” he murmured, grinning back at you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You were laughing with your friends when Iwaizumi walked over on Monday morning, smiling at you.

“Iwaizumi, hey,” you said, smiling back him.

Your reaction changed however when he wrapped his arms around you, burying his face in your neck.

“Oikawa is getting on your nerves again, isn’t he?” you asked, rubbing a hand over his spine.

“You have no idea,” he muttered. “And with Kyoutani back it’s even worse because he really only listens to me.”

“That’ll change,” you assured him. “From what I’ve heard from Yahaba he won’t be putting up with Kyoutani’s shit much longer.”

“I just needed to see you,” he murmured, kissing your shoulder.

“Clearly, considering you’re being sappy in the middle of both the hallway and the entirety of my friend group,” you muttered, making him snort.

“I’m not ashamed of you,” he reminded you.

“I know you aren’t, but you did just blatantly show affection in a crowded school hallway. And the Meme Team looks like they’re caught between shock and wanting blackmail,” you told him, making him pick his head up.

“Did she just call us the Meme Team?” Makki asked, clearly leaning more towards shock.

“I think she did,” Matsun agreed, leaning more towards blackmail.

“We like her already,” they said in unison making you roll your eyes as Iwaizumi stalked towards them, murder written all over his face.

“You two might want to get to class. The bell is about to ring and you strike me as the kind of people that want to live,” you called. “Don’t hurt them too much baby!”

Iwaizumi threw you a grin over his shoulder and you laughed, shaking your head as you headed to your own class.

They wouldn’t survive to third period.

#iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi hajime reader #hajime x reader #fluff #angst #iwaizumi angst #iwaizumi fluff #hajime fluff #hajime angst #what was I thinking?

[fandomdancer]

The Dance

In the year 2169, you are a senior in high school. You've been best friends with the same two young men since grade school. One of them is your date to the senior dance. The other is the class loner: Eobard Thawne. When your date make a suddenly unexpected move, you find yourself feeling like the perfect night is ruined. But then Eobard shows up...

Word Count: 3,754 words

Rating: T, but may be M

Pairings: OC/Reader, Eobard/Reader

A/N: First attempt at a reader-insert fic. Special thanks to @darlingpetao3 @yetanotherwells @wellsaddict and @hawk-lee for listening to me freak out about this, inspiring me, and giving me the courage to actually post it. I hope it's interesting and fun for you to read.

This is Mattobard's version of Thawne, since it takes place during his teenage years.

This fic was inspired by this song (which is the featured waltz in the story). 'Pride and Penance', from World of Warcraft: Shadowlands.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cZtBflZHIcQ

_________________________________________________________

The moment you step into the darkened dance hall, you feel as though you have been transported back in time. In fact, you can’t help but wonder if the organizers of this year’s spring formal are utilizing some of Rip Hunter’s famous Time Couriers to literally open a door to the past. Everything around is, at minimum, dated back a hundred years ago, from the DJ setting up digital playlists to the black-light-illuminated chairs seated around tables littered with drinks, plates of food, and what looks like games. The music right now is from the early 2000s, but you expect the songs to range through decades, possibly even centuries over the course of the night. Multicolored lights hang from the ceiling, giving the place an overall ‘club’ look, accentuated by the powerful underlighting at the bar.

The temperature increases as you enter on your date’s arm, the exertion from the dancing and milling bodies heating up the air in the room. The dance started only thirty minutes ago, but the excitement in the room is palpable, and kids are wasting no time yelling ‘hellos’ and ‘how are yous’ as they toss back nonalcoholic drinks. One table is already full of kids engaged in what looks like an intense card game with multicolored discs sprayed across the table in front of them.

Catching the fever of the room, you cast a huge grin up at your date, a handsome young man you’ve known since grade school. The two of you are dressed perhaps a little fancy for the event, with him in a fine, high-collared suit befitting a 20th century aristocrat and you in a deep red 1940s princess ballgown. Overdressing is okay: the two of you were expecting a slightly more ‘ballroom’ shindig, not this ‘21st century club’ event, and upon looking around you can see that other members of your class had similar ideas, wearing everything from 1800s Victorian gowns to military uniforms.

“They did a good job,” your date says. “Though one would think they could have come up with a more original theme name than ‘Blast to the Past’.”

“Don’t cheesy titles comprise part of the charm of last century?” you ask as the two of you move towards the obligatory picture arena. “Wasn’t stating the obvious considered not only funny, but…what was the word…a meemee?”

“Meme. One word, one syllable. And yes. Memes were a rather popular form of communication in the early 21st century, though I guess they started well before that.” Your date eyes the line and the picture-taking arena before them. “Is that….a phone booth?”

You are both intrigued as you watch a couple go into the booth, pulling a curtain shut and separating them from the outside world. Their feet are obvious as they scrabble into various positions, each one punctuated by a bright flash ands lots of giggling. The couple emerges, looking flushed and full of smiles, and watch as two thin strips of plastic emerged from the wall of the booth. The two grab the plastic strips and look at them, giggling as they walk away.

“It’s a photo booth.”

The voice right beside you and your date startles you, and you quickly look over to see one of the chaperones for the event, Ms. Steinway, a few feet away. The young teacher looks stunning in a green floor-length gown, her blonde hair floating ethereally around her shoulders. She gestures. “You go in, and you have five pictures taken of you in quick succession. There’s usually only three to four seconds between each photo so people often planned ahead what they would do ahead of time. You can make faces, or be serious…whatever you would like!”

“Thank you, Ms. Steinway,” you say before looking back to your date. “Well. I guess we have about a minute to come up with five different poses.”

“Why don’t we improvise? We’re both good thinkers on our feet.”

The tension and pressure of racing to beat a timed photo session is appealing to you, probably a side effect of all the time you've been spending lately with your other friend, Eobard Thawne. He has a strong taste for competition and it’s been rubbing off on you in the years you’ve known him.

The sudden thought of Thawne makes you skim the room, wondering if the class loner has actually shown up to tonight’s dance. You’re pretty sure he’s not here; this isn’t his type of thing at all. It’s certainly why you didn’t ask him to be your date. It’s also the only reason why you didn’t ask him to be your date. Eobard Thawne’s proud, handsome figure and strikingly keen intellect has drawn many a girl’s attention over the years, including yours, and you’ve made a concentrated effort to ignore it. But lately, you’ve noticed that he seems to be hovering near you much more often. And he got into a fistfight with your date a few weeks ago…you never did quite figure out what had caused that argument…

Seeing him here tonight would definitely open a lot of doors, however. Perhaps you would be brave enough to ask him for a single dance. He can be a truly arrogant ass but he has always been at least civil to you…probably because the two of you have also known each other since grade school.

Your date pushes you forward and you realize that, as usual, thoughts of Eobard have distracted you for several seconds. It is your turn in the photo booth.

The booth is small and simple, with a little touch screen that simply says ‘go’. A quick glance over the screen shows that presets are in place, with no way to change them. It is a little aggravating to not be able to customize the photos but you suppose that’s to get the line of kids moving quickly. With a quick glance at your date, the two of you reach out and tap the ‘go’ button together.

The very first thing he does is kiss you. It’s so fast and so intense that you don’t even have time to react. Suddenly his mouth is open and wet and moving on yours and his hand is in your carefully-crafted hairstyle and you are shocked beyond words because of all the poses you had considered in this run of pictures, your longtime friend kissing you was not one of them. You’ve suspected he felt this way about you and there was no doubt in your mind that he would be an excellent romantic partner, but you hadn’t really…thought about him like that. In fact, the only person you really thought about like that was…Eobard.

He finally pulls back and looks quickly at the camera, grinning widely. Your brain is fuzzed and rolling with several unfinished sentences and questions, but some little part of you keeps control and turns to smile bright and beautiful at the screen. The two of you make silly faces next, and as you are setting up for what you think is the next picture, the screen goes dark. You realize in shock that he used three of the five pictures to kiss you. Feeling frustrated and cheated, you get out of the booth, pasting a smile on your face so as not to appear angry to the line of kids waiting outside. You’ll have plenty of time to discuss his choices later.

The pictures print out and they’re definitely difficult to look at. The first one shows your obvious surprise, but the second two are worse, showcasing your desperate attempt to keep control of what is happening by grabbing at his face and responding to his kiss. It was not your best decision, but you feel like it was your only choice at the moment – and that realization makes you furious.

The two of you head to an unoccupied table, and the moment you set down the photos you whirl on your date, your insides twisted in knots and your throat almost sealed shut from the force of your anger. “What the hell?”

“What?”

It’s even hotter in this room with your anger charging you up. You are pretty sure your face is the color of your dress. “You kissed me.”

He smiles. “Of course I did. What did you think we were going to do in there?”

Your mouth drops open. “Make faces and smile! When did kissing appear on the list of things to do tonight?”

His brow furrows. “When you agreed to be my date. Come now, you can’t possibly miss all the signs I’ve given you. You know me better than that.”

His self-entitled arrogance sets your teeth on edge and you clutch the table so hard you’re amazed it doesn’t bend. “I’ve known you for almost all of my life and you have never been so rude as to just kiss someone without making sure it’s all right with them! You wait for that kind of invitation! You don’t blindside her during a timed picture taking session!”

“Spontaneity has never been your thing, and I respect that,” he begins to say.

You cut him off. “Clearly not or these wouldn’t exist!” You wave the pictures at him before slamming them down onto the table. You don’t know what you’re angrier about now; being forced into this situation before you felt ready, his seeming blindness to how the whole situation played out, or the fact that you feel like what should have been a beautiful moment is ruined and you are never going to get it back.

A waltz begins to play, the very song the two of you were hoping would be the focus of the evening, and he reaches a hand out to you. “You’re right. I made a terrible mistake. I thought it would be fun and I assumed you would be all right with it. I am sorry. I truly am. We will go have the pictures retaken. But will you dance with me? This sounds like a beautiful waltz and I don’t want to have ruined the night by making a terrible decision right at the beginning.”

He sounds sincere but you don’t answer him at first. Your mind is still awash with anger and betrayal and a sudden desire to be anywhere but in this room right now. You don’t want to just forgive him for doing this to you. But you also don’t want the night to be ruined, and right now the song playing sounds like it could be a wonderful dance and you aren’t sure how many more will be played with the selection of music likely being offered. Reluctantly, you slip your hand into his.

“We aren’t done with this conversation,” you state firmly.

“Of course not.” He twirls you gently. “But this song fits you and I want to see you dancing to it.”

You don’t know the name of the song, but it has a haunting melody to it, almost ghostlike with sliding violins. Waltzes always have a kind of built-in grace to them, a slippery seduction meant to make it easy to move to. But this piece has an additionally dramatic vocalist that elevates the rhythm to something royal and aristocratic. You can almost imagine the two of you (and the couples that are joining you on the floor) dancing in the hall of an ancient, grand mansion while a dark storm swirls outside the floor-to-ceiling windows and the dry fingers of tree branches curl menacingly in shadows on the floor, trapping the dancers’ feet in their grip.

“Pardon me.”

The familiar voice snaps you out of the daydream you are drifting into, and you rock slowly back and forth in your date’s arms as you realize Eobard is standing in front of you two. Your breath catches and your heart rate picks up instantly as you look at him. He looks as though he has stepped straight out of your daydream: a young lord trapped in a dying manor, cloaked in high-collared black and red with the light shimmering blindingly on his short blond hair. Even more shocking is the dramatic flair he has added to the outfit: a full-length black cape fastened at his neck with a ruby. He is too beautiful to touch and yet your hands…and other, sweeter, deeper parts of you…ache as you stare at him.

His eyes sweep over you and you think you see his jaw clench slightly before he speaks again. “May I cut in?”

“You’re in our way, Bardo,” your date growls, all softness and politeness gone from his voice.

“I wasn’t addressing you,” Eobard responds to him but doesn’t take his eyes off of you. Your throat is growing dry from the simple intensity of his gaze. “I was addressing your partner." He nods to you. "May I cut in?”

You finally register what he is asking, and the thrill that races through you makes you shiver. You had thought you might have the courage to ask him to dance if you had seen him here, but him asking you is completely unexpected. Saying no to him might prevent him from asking again, but saying yes would probably send the wrong message to your date.

Then again, your date certainly sent you the wrong message when he forced you to kiss him in the photo booth.

It’s a very simple question with a very simple answer.

“I would be honored,” you reply, trying to sound as cool and proper as possible. As you pull away from your date, you feel his hands clench briefly on you. You quickly look up at him, seeing the betrayal in his eyes. At first you feel smug, but then you remind yourself that he did apologize. You give him your best comforting smile. “We’ll continue this later,” you say to him, making his expression soften just a little. But the look he gives Eobard is poisonous.

Eobard’s expression doesn’t change. Instead, he unfastens the cape from around his neck and whips it dramatically off, draping it unceremoniously on your date’s still-outstretched arms. “Would you be so kind as to place this on a nearby chair?”

Redness floods your date’s face, and you start to open your mouth to scold Eobard for his rudeness, but his hands grip you firmly and he spins you away into the dancing crowd before you can say a word. Your feet scrabble as you try to keep up, and you have a feeling he’s trying to get you as far away from your date as fast as possible. Focusing on your movements, you catch his rhythm and begin to move in time with him, gaining control over yourself while still permitting him to lead. You’re angry enough now that you’re tempted to just walk out the door after this dance. When did your two best friends turn into such boys? They’re acting like you’re a prize in a competition and while that might be flattering, it’s making you feel a bit like an object and not like the lady you want to be tonight.

“You dance well,” Eobard compliments.

You roll your eyes. “You dragged me out here and I just got my balance back. Don’t patronize me.”

“I wouldn’t dare,” he answers. “I mean what I say. I saw you trying to dance with your date over there. He was trying. You were succeeding.”

You snort and sigh. “I wish the two of you would tell me why you both seem to have lost your minds lately.”

Eobard tilts his head. “Isn’t it obvious?”

Your heart pounds and you know what you hope the answer is, but coming right out and saying it feels like a such a terrible risk. Eobard’s emotional difficulties make him dangerous sometimes, the wrong word or look pushing him away for days at a time. You are not going to ruin this night, this dance, this moment that has been playing in your dreams.

“Obviously not, or I wouldn’t have brought it up,” you say, trying to put an innocent look on your face. You aren’t sure if it works or not, but the hard look in Eobard’s eyes softens somewhat, and he guides you around the floor. Looking up at him, you surrender your mind to the daydream, milking this moment for all it is worth. The seductive waltz paints the image of a great hall, decadent in its decay, the memory of opulence just as romantic as the opulence itself. And Eobard, cold and proud and throat-achingly beautiful, spins you around it, commanding your body with his touch, and commanding your mind with his eyes.

“Your friend and I,” he says in a low voice, “are both seeking your approval.”

Dear God, he actually said it. You’re almost dizzy with excitement as you frantically think of how to navigate the next few sentences. Honesty is going to be key. “You have a funny way of showing it. First that fistfight a few weeks ago and now tonight he just kisses me out of the blue and then you drag me off like I belong to you or something…”

“He did what?” Eobard stops the two of you cold, and you blink, looking up at his grey eyes, watching in surprise as they turn stormy and dark. His pale face begins to flush as he gazes down at you. You can’t tell if what you’re seeing is anger or not, but as his eyebrows draw together you feel your insides flutter. It’s more than just anger. It’s jealousy.

Eobard is jealous.

The realization makes your throat close and you swallow several times as adrenaline floods your veins. The possibilities open up in your mind, and you suddenly realize that while both men are, in fact, treating you like a prize, you are still the one in control.

“He kissed me for our photo,” you say carefully, letting the frustration and hurt show on your face. “I didn’t know he was going to.”

Eobard looks at you, his jaw clenching and unclenching, and his face continuing to grow red. His hands tighten on your waist and hand, and a strange excitement blooms in your chest. Eobard Thawne, so aloof and elitist, suffering from the simple emotion of jealousy. And jealousy related to you, because he’s seeking your approval. Despite the heat of the moment, you find yourself fighting a smile.

“Did you enjoy it?” he asks tightly.

You know the truth and you know what saying it will mean. But right now, you are unable to lie to him, captivated by the thrill of his reaction and the intoxicating crescendo building around you.

“No.”

Eobard’s chin lifts and a smug satisfaction fills his eyes as the music crescendos loudly. With a climactic crash of drums, he decisively pushes you out into a firm spin, and then brings you back in, his hand slipping to the small of your back and holding you flush against his body. And for one fiery, fierce moment, you realize that you can feel him, dear God, all of him, pressed possessively against you, and a weakness makes your knees wobble and your mouth go dry as you stare into his eyes, only inches away, and realize what he is silently saying to you.

Then the two of you are moving again as he takes everything up another notch, whirling you both within the crowd as though you have all the space in the world. The music pounds with your steps, pulsing inside of you, the melody a full-throated cry from the whole orchestra, igniting adrenaline and fire within you. Your mouth falls open to gasp for air as your eyes drift closed. You don’t need to see, only to feel the clutch of his hands and the heat of his body and the light pressure on your waist as he leads you.

And then, in one powerful beat, the music stops. Eobard pushes you backwards into a dramatic dip, holding you up while your hands claw at him. You can’t see the ecstasy on your face but a few gasps from the people around you suggest that the two of you may be in a very compromising position. You don’t care. Your body is shaking and tingling. You feel sweat dampening your skin, and the heat…you’re drowning in it. But you don’t want to move. You don’t want it to be over. Most of all, you don’t want his hands leaving you. Ever.

Your breath comes in heavy gasps as he draws you up to your feet. He steadies you, and your eyes finally drift open. The sight before you makes you shiver again. Eobard is breathing just as hard as you are, and has the same slightly dazed expression on his face that you are feeling. You vaguely realize that while you were trying to keep your balance you gripped his hair and shirt because both of them are bunched and mussed. But neither of you can look away from the other for several seconds.

Finally, he is the first one to move. He gently straightens his shirt and runs a hand through his hair. He brings his heels together and reaches for your hand. He bows, lifting your hand to his lips and placing a chaste kiss on the back of it.

“Thank you,” he says, “for the lovely dance. If you’ll excuse me, I believe I need some air.”

You nod slowly. “I…think I do too.”

Something sparks in his eyes, and he offers you his arm. You consider taking it, but the sensation that sweeps through you as you realize what the implications are stop you. You are awash in powerful emotions now, enough to know that if you go with him, you’re going to do something you want…

….oh do you want….

….but on impulse, caught up in the moment.

You know you need to gather yourself. The night has only just begun.

“I will see you back in here,” you reply, offering a polite curtsey. It isn’t a blatant rejection, just more of a ‘not now’. Eobard seems to understand and his withdraws his hand before turning and striding for the door.

You head for a different exit, catching a glimpse of your date just as you leave the room. His face is a thunderstorm, and you feel a slight chill that cuts through the hazy fog of your mind.

The night has only just begun, and you have a feeling it’s going to be a long one.

#eobard thawne #eobard thawne x reader #reader insert #mattobard #matt letscher #fanfiction #i love this song so much #how could i not write a story to it

[just-call-me-the-intrusive-thot]

Soulmate September - Day 10

Day 10 - You are born with a birthmark, similar to a tattoo, that is shared by your soulmate.

Pairing(s): Romantic Anaroceit, Romantic RemSleep, Ambiguous Poly Glasses Gays 

TWs: Swearing, Remus being Remus, animal death metions briefly, implied sexual mention once I think? 

–

Why was it so difficult to simply bring together two handsome, obnoxious soulmates?

How could grown men be this dense?!Virgil had been trying for MONTHS at this point to get these idiots to date, yet for some reason 

Instead of wanting to date each other, they both seemed far more interested in someone else.

In him.

Why, why did this have to be his life? Tormented by such stupid, handsome men?

Okay, maybe he had a teeny crush on both of them but Virgil was getting ahead of himself.

Working at the local theatre was doing some real good for Virgil; being a techie meant he was mostly out of the spotlight - so no chance of any performance anxiety - and it meant he had to actually wake up and be a functional human being but was flexible enough that he could call in sick pretty easily if he needed a mental health day. 

Thankfully, things had been going well until Virgil looked down from the catwalk to note that the two best actors in their troupe, Roman Prince and Janus D. Lyre, both bore each other’s soulmate markings. Both on the backs of their necks, all too easy to miss. Ever since, Virgil had been trying to subtly get them to realise they were soulmates. Of course, given the intimacy of the soulmate marks, it would be entirely outrageous for Virgil to simply tell them they were soulmates; social etiquette wasn’t his forte, but his anxiety really didn’t want the possible shunning he might receive if he broke that rule. Knowing that Janus and Roman were often together for rehearsals and were similarly self-obsessed, Virgil assumed getting them interested in each other would be a piece of cake.

And yet. Somehow. The man they were both interested in was Virgil himself.

Every time he tried to get the two talking, Virgil wound up being flirted with or found himself stuck between two arguing idiots. If anything, Virgil wondered if his interfering had made things worse. Now instead of kidding and being perfect and gorgeous together, they were absolutely straight up enemies. Janus did his best to interrupt - and one-up - Roman’s stellar attempts at flirting, and Roman often tried to out shine Janus by giving Virgil anything from his favourite chocolates to gothic black roses to new headphones.

Not that Virgil didn’t secretly love being the object of their mutual affection, if anything it gave him hope that perhaps whoever his soulmate was would dote on him just as much. But just like his non-existent soulmate mark, this just wasn’t meant to be. He still wasn’t sure why he didn’t have a soulmate mark like everyone else; even his ace and aro friends confirmed they had soulmates too, so why was he skipped over? Probably because no one would ever want to be his soulmate.Yeah. Probably.

Virgil was lost in that downward spiral when Remus leapt off of the set he was painting and landed just shy of crushing the poor emo.

“Wow you look like shit,”, the trash rat greeted, sitting and slinging an arm around Virgil before he could protest, “Are the girls fighting again?”

Virgil tried to stifle a snicker. It’s a stupid meme reference, Virgil, don’t laugh.

“Of course it fucking is, when is it not?“

Remus nodded, though he looked more bored than sympathetic, “Well, how about I offer you some advice, my good bitch?”

Virgil squinted at him in both annoyance and suspicion. “If it’s going to get me arrested, it’s a solid ‘fuck no’.”

“Relax, asshole, it’s totally legal and requires zero body bags and or falsified witness statements!”

Well. That’s about as good as they’re going to get. Virgil huffed, “Fine, give me the deets, Ratman.”

Remus snickered at the old nickname; A decade had passed but still the memory of the two of them graffitiing their high school gym with their tags on their last day still lived on.

“Alright, Stitch Bitch, here’s how you do it,”, Remus ignored Virgil’s eye roll and continued, “Ask them both on a date, same place and time. Talk about your interests, since you’re probably not gonna actually have that much in common, then you can just reject both of them! They’ll be driven into each other’s arms, or some shit. You know what they’re like, they’re dramatic as fuck. It’ll be perfect.”

Virgil wasn’t amused, “But what if they don’t? What if I just end up breaking both their hearts and they wind up all depressed and-?!”

“Then it solves your problem anyway, dipshit.”, he rolled his eyes, “Jeez, you’re worse than Roman with the dramatics! Think of the middle ground, you turn them both down, they go home sulking, but they’re big boys! They’ll get over it and get together some other day! Big deal!” Remus affectionately ruffled Virgil’s hair and didn’t stop until Virgil all but threw him off, “Alright, alright, fine! I’ll try, but if it all goes wrong, you’re helping me pack to move across the fucking globe.” “Ooh, alright! Or I can hide your body if it goes REALLY badly! I know how to make sure the police never find it, after all! Did you know you just need to bury it vertically and put a dead animal on top-”

Virgil tuned him out, already trying to narrow down locations for dates in his head. He’d need to pick somewhere both Roman and Janus would agree to go. He didn’t exactly doubt either of them would turn him down, but he needed to be sure they’d both attend. Perhaps the local restaurants would be a good place to start? It’d be easy to Mrs.Doubtfire that shit. Minus the clothing change, of course. Maybe the Golden Palace might be a good idea? It’s bougie enough for Roman, classy enough for Janus, and if Virgil got lucky enough, perhaps they’d both be the ones to pay for dinner.

“...And so I told Roman about it and then Roman tells me “Remus, you dunce, you got arrested because you were caught carrying a dangerous weapon in Starbucks” but I personally think that cop was just an asshole. I mean, it was just a baseball bat for fuck’s sake, so WHAT if it had a few nails in it-”

The techie noted that Remus was still babbling to himself so he clicked his fingers just shy or flicking him in the ear,

“When’s Roman free? I know Janus is pretty flexible-”

“I’ll bet.”, Remus snickered. “Dude. You have your soulmate, don’t be a dick.”

“Hey, that doesn’t mean I can’t mentally rank every guy here on how bendy I think they’d be in bed-”

“THAT ASIDE.”, Virgil interrupted, rubbing his temples like it would squeeze out the horrible mental image and several questions he never wanted answers to, “I’ve nailed down the where, I just need the when. Janus is free most days, but Roman’s pretty enigmatic about that shit. Do you know if he’s free tonight? Might as well get this shit over with.”

Remus mulled it over, “He should be. But you should probably just ask him first then Janus. Y’know, save yourself the trouble.”

Ah. That did make sense. Virgil tried not to let it show that he hadn’t thought of that and nodded, “Right… Okay. Just, if I fuck up talking to either of them, be ready.”

“With the car or a shovel?”

“Both.”

The trashrat snickered and let Virgil stand up, giving him an ‘affectionate’ jab in the back of his knee just to get a reaction out of the techie. Virgil wasn’t sure why Remus did that sometimes, he figured it was just another one of the demented twin’s eccentricities.

Inhaling deeply, Virgil sought out Roman, careful to avoid Janus’ line of sight as he tapped the flamboyant twin on the arm. Roman spun to face him, his expression lighting up in a way that made Virgil shamefully wish that he was his soulmate. That he was worthy of all his doting.

“Virge! What can I do for you, my dark and stormy knight?”

Stop being so fucking charming perhaps?

“Uh, it’s kind of an embarrassing request, so bear with me.”

“Of course! What’s up?”

Just ask him, ignore the butterflies, he’s not your soulmate.

“I was wondering, if you’d want to go on a date with me tonight-”

Roman positively swept the emo off his feet, his beaming smile could have burned itself into Virgil’s eyes.

“YES!! YES, I’D ADORE-”

“YEP! Okay, that’s great!”, he shushed him, trying to keep things as quiet as possible, “Listen, I know you’re excited but I’m really anxious about this-”

“Nothing new there.”, Roman chuckled affectionately as he put Virgil down.

“Oh shut up,”, Virgil smirked, pushing down the sunny feeling that chuckle brought out, “Look, I’ll text you the details so can you just keep this between us? I don’t want anyone gossiping. Not that I’m ashamed of you or anything I just-”

Roman carefully halted his word vomit with a gentle caress of Virgil’s cheek, “It’s alright, I understand. After all, with such an honour, I’d do good not to betray the trust of my charming prince.”

Virgil flusteredly averted his gaze, “Hmph. What happened to your ‘dark and stormy knight’?”

“Well, if things go well, I’d hope to promote him.”

The wink Roman shot Virgil should be illegal, that thing could have killed him. The techie just gave him an attempt at an ‘oh fuck off’ smirk that came out more as a ‘fuck I have a crush’ shy smile.

No time to dwell on it, he had another stupidly handsome man to ask on a fake date. 

Virgil checked with the stagehands and made his way over to the backstage dressing room area, finding Janus sat on one of the makeup tables while their dramaturg was busy going over some directions for their next rehearsal. Upon looking up and noticing him, Janus smirked - another expression that should be outright banned for it’s lethality - and politely requested the dramaturg ‘bother him another time’. They did exactly that, leaving Virgil and Janus alone to talk,

“Virgil,”, Janus purred with a voice like sweet honey, “what brings you here?”

Don’t think about that sexy voice, don’t think about that sexy voice, don’t-

“You, actually.” Play it cool, Virge. Be suave and charming. “I wanted to ask you out on a date.”

Janus’ eyes widened slightly in surprise. Virgil felt pretty proud to have finally stunned the silver-tongued gent, though he knew it’d only be a fleeting victory. If anyone would out-smooth even the most flirty person alive, it would be Janus.

With a snake-like fluidity, Janus slunk off of the table and made his way over to Virgil; whereas Roman was only an inch or two taller than him, Janus had a whole six inches at least. Virgil found it semi-intimidating, but that just made the taller man more attractive if he was being honest. Janus softly ran a hand through Virgil’s purple-dyed hair, 

“That’s rather a bold request, Virgil. What brought this on, if I may ask? Not that I’m complaining..”

Virgil had to work extremely hard to resist the urge to nestle into the warmth of his palm. Not your soulmate! Stop it! “I uh, I figured I would take a risk for once. It’s alright if you don’t wanna-”

“No.”, Janus interjected, the hand in Virgil’s hair sliding under his chin to lock their eyes, “I’d very much like to go on a date with you. When and where?”

Virgil swallowed nervously, “The Golden Palace, tonight? I’ll um, I’ll book the table and text you the time-”

“Perfect.”, Janus smirked, gently releasing Virgil. He hadn’t realised how much he’d been subconsciously leaning into Janus’ touch until he almost felt himself sway. “I’ll be sure to wear my best suit for you. Really give you something to blush over.”

Shit.

Virgil had no rebuttal, he simply nodded and hastily headed back to his usual breakspot to work out just how he would survive tonight…

--

It turned out the answer was simple; he wouldn’t.

Thankfully Virgil had settled on an outfit that was just the right mix of fancy and casual; his black leather jacket hugged his shoulders which his dark purple button up sat under. He’d gone back and forward between his options for bottoms, but in the end, he preferred his black short pencil skirt and a pair of sheer black tights that matched his black ankle boots. It was a bold choice, but Virgil felt far more powerful in that combination. Like he could kick ass and get away with it.

Virgil needn’t have bothered, however, as the second he showed up at quarter to seven to meet Roman, any semblance of confidence in his ability to control the situation went right out the window. It should have been illegal to look that handsome. A white waistcoat and pants bearing gold trim, combined with a burgundy button up shirt with the sleeves rolled? How dare Roman look that beautiful-

Oh god, now he’s smiling at him from across the room. Too late to back out now. 

Swallowing nervously, Virgil returned the smile and headed over to the table he’d booked; far enough from the door for Roman to miss Janus arriving, and out of the way enough so that they wouldn’t see each other too soon. If he wasn’t so nervous, Virgil would have pat himself on the back for the trouble he went to securing two tables over the phone, but the last thing he wanted to focus on was the person on the phone’s sassy remarks as he did so. Instead, he focused on Roman politely getting up to pull out his chair for him.

“You look stunning, Virge! Did you change up your eye shadow too?”

Virgil gave an anxious nod, “Yeah, I thought maybe I’d try the purple instead of solid black like usual. Do you like it?”

Roman’s grin could’ve smothered him in the night and he’d have thanked it for the priveledge, “I love it!”

While keeping an eye on the time, Virgil let himself roll into conversation with Roman; he was surprised by not only how smoothly the conversation went, but how much they had in common. Sure, there was a tiiiiny heated exchange as to which Disney movie reigned supreme, but their mutual love of Nightmare Before Christmas and the artistic pursuits made for some wonderful discussion. It was a shame Virgil had to remind himself of just why he was doing this. 

He was supposed to be making his rejection of Roman easier, not more difficult.

Finally, as 8 O’clock rolled around, Janus walked in followed by a few other smartly dressed patrons. Of course, Janus very much stood out among them wearing a black dinner suit with an obsidian waist coat and golden coloured button up underneath. His usual bowler hat had been replaced for a much fancier one with a larger brim that held a marigold flower. The sight was so enticing, Virgil had to will himself to stop staring as he got up from the table,

“Excuse me, Roman, mind if I go use the bathroom?”

Roman gave a nod and Virgil made haste towards the restroom area; thankfully he’d planned ahead and knew he could use the corridor that went along behind the bar to emerge on the other side of the room without being detected. However, a new obstacle proved to be a challenge; Janus hadn’t taken his eyes off of the door since the moment he’d walked in and removed his suit jacket. 

Damn. Virgil hadn’t anticipated that. 

Luckily, one of the men who’d come in behind Janus - a man adorned in an off-black suit wearing a beanie, a pair of sunglasses, and a face mask - had just come out of the bathroom door behind him. Without the time to let his social anxiety kick in, Virgil stopped the man and asked quietly, “Hey, sorry to be a bother, but if you can distract the handsome guy at that table for a couple  minutes,“, he began, gesturing to Janus, “I’ll give you ten bucks, how’s that sound?”.

The man seemed to stare for a moment behind the shades then silently gestured with his hands in a motion of “more”.

Of course.

“Okay, uh, fifteen?”

More again. This asshole..

“Ugh, fine, twenty! That's as much as I can spare!”

The man shrugged and nodded, gladly taking the money and, to his credit, doing exactly as was asked. Virgil watched him approach Janus, asking for the time if the way Janus took his attention and turned it to his watch was an indication. It bought Virgil enough time to ‘arrive’ just as the man gave a thank you nod to Janus.

“Sorry I’m a little late,”, Virgil apologised, taking his seat, “I hope I didn’t keep you waiting?”

 “Not at all,”, Janus assured him, smirking delightedly in a way that made Virgil’s knees feel weak even in a sitting position, “You look beautiful, Virgil, if I’d known you’d look so good, I’d have picked out an even better suit.”

This fucking guy, oh my god. “Oh shut up, you look handsome as is.”, Virgil shot back, doing his best to remain calm even as Janus leant in close to strike up conversation.

--

“I’m telling you, babes, he’s either a cheater or he’s crazy.”

Remy aimed the stirrer he’d been using to push back his cuticles towards Virgil and Janus, then trained it on his stoic co worker, “Look, he’s got two gorgeous guys here and neither of them have noticed yet.”

The aforementioned co worker rolled his eyes, “Remy, you have once again utterly misread the situation for the sake of needless dramatics. It’s rather obvious what’s going on here if you take the time to pick up on subtle body language clues.”

“What’s this about clues, Logie Bear?”, questioned a rather eager waiter carrying a tray of glasses back behind the bar. “Are you playing Sherlock again?”

“Patton, please, refrain from the pet names during working hours, I’ve told you before-”

“While they’re perfectly suitable and welcome at home, we must remain professional at work.”, chimed in another bespectacled man who was manning the till, “It’s fine Logan, honey, let them off the hook this once, okay?”

Patton put down the tray and wrapped their arms around the man who’d just spoken, “Emile’s right! C’mon Logan, you can’t deny it, you like the name too-”

Logan cleared his throat to throw off the peachy blush that threatened to give away his adoration for his soulmates, ”As I was saying before, it’s obvious as to what this rather anxious individual is up to. His body language isn’t that of a cheater, Remy,”, the server flipped Logan the bird, “In fact, I’d hazard a guess that the poor lad is simply attempting to work out which man is his soulmate. I read a fascinating journal that talked all about this phenomenon where some soulmates are unable to see their soulmarks and thus rely on a technique comparable to sensing one’s aura-”

“Okay so like, you think he’s trying to get a read on these two to narrow it down?”, Remy interrupted before Logan could further explore his tangent, “Well then, it’s obvious which one he’s gonna pick.”

Remy gestured lazily over his shoulder at Roman, who was currently twirling his fork between his fingers, “It’s gonna be Tall, Dark and Dumbass over there, babes.”

Logan scoffed, “Falsehood. Clearly the gentleman he’s sat with currently is a much more appropriate option.”. The server nodded his head in their direction, “All factors point to the man in black not only being the more suitable option, but his body language is far more open and receptive to our subject.”

“Subject. Christ it’s like I’m back in science one.”, Remy groaned, but continued to argue, “Besides, you’re ignoring how he’s like, totes more comfortable with my boy in white, sweetie. Look at him, he can’t wait to get away from your boy in black.“

Sure enough, Virgil had gone to switch partners again, returning to Roman with a sweetly shy apologetic gesture.

Patton piped up, “What if they’re like us, Logie Bear? Y’know, more than one soulmate?”

Logan shook his head, “Ridiculous, it’d make no sense to have such a date if that were the case.”

Remy nodded in agreement for the first time, “Yeah, either way, you’re wrong on this one, Logan. Trust me, I know what a fellow morosexual looks like.”

Emile and Logan both sighed at that one while Patton tsk’d, “Remy, come on, thats your soulmate you’re talking about! You shouldn’t be mean!”

Remy quirked an eyebrow at Patton, “Babes, have you met Remus? I love the big sap but he’s a certified dumbass with a heaping dose of cryptid.”, he opened the drinks cooler and took out a lemonade bottle, not giving a shit that the three soulmates behind him were absolutely unamused. ”Anyway, if you’re so sure over who our ‘subject’ will end up with, how about we bet on it? Loser has to work two weeks of overtime and the winner gets thirty dollars or some shit. You in?”

Patton and Emile both declined, both more focused on their work and simply enjoying the dates being had, while Logan agreed wholeheartedly, “I do hope your next two weeks are free, Remy...”

--

He couldn’t take much more of this.

The longer Virgil kept going back and forth between the two of them - using his anxiety to buy himself time without too much suspicion - the more he was getting tangled up in feelings he knew he couldn’t indulge. Every second with Roman made him smile, even when trading verbal jabs. Every second with Janus made him feel more bold, able to flirt back every once and a while. But this wasn’t right. Janus, Roman, they were made for each other. Not for him.

He wouldn’t get to curl up next to Roman on a cold night, watching Disney movies, baking together, or following along to Bob Ross tutorials only for one of them inevitably would start painting on the other until they were both paint splattered, cackling messes. 

He wouldn’t get to dance quietly in the living room with Janus while their favourite music plays, swaying softly to his favourite Jazz music, or lazily draping himself over Janus’ lap while they read their favourite books long into the night.

Virgil stared into the bathroom mirror; his ‘dates’ had been so sweet as to compliment him, but all he could focus on was how much of a mess he felt. He’s going to break their hearts beyond repair, all because he couldn’t just tell them they were soulmates. Social etiquette be damned, why had he let it go on like this?

Feeling his chest constricting, Virgil quickly grabbed his phone and texted Remus.

V: [help. Having a panic attack. Distract me]

He tried to remember his breathing exercises, chewing his free hand’s thumbnail anxiously until he got the text notification;

R: [Cool. Did u  kno rabbits eat their babies when they’re stressed?]

…. Virgil heavily regretted asking Remus to distract him.

V: [Horrifying. Thank you.]

R: [Anytime, Stitch Bitch. Now what happened?]

V: [Dates backfired.]

R: [U caught feelings didnt u]

Virgil groaned and kept typing.

V: [fuck u]

R: [fuck me urself coward.]

Well at least that got a laugh out of him. Remus followed up that text before he could reply:

R: [Just go out there and tell them the truth]

V: [nope, no way, they’ll hate me]

R: [Bitch they’re both smitten w/ u it’ll hurt but they’ll live, they’re sat there worried about u]

V: [how the fuck do you know that?]

R: [Remy’s on shift tonight, he and Logan are taking bets on how things will pan out. They’ve been texting me non stop.]

That did explain a few things. Namely the one server with the sunglasses and sassy attitude who gave him and Roman extra desserts “for like, the cutest couple in this bitch”, and the other more stoic server who brought him and Janus a bottle of champagne “to celebrate a wonderful partnership”. When would his life stop feeling like a goddamn circus?

Virgil was pulled from his thoughts as his next text sent his blood running cold,

R: [u might wanna get back to em, they’ll be worried about u by now]

Dammit. Virgil had just left the bathroom to be met with a worried Roman, “Virgil, are you alright!? You were gone so long, I thought something had happened!”

Stomp down that affection you’re feeling, Virgil. It’s just gonna hurt more.

“I’m fine, its just my nerves-”

“Virgil?”

Both men turned to spy Janus entering the hallway with an expression of shock and disgust upon seeing the two of them. He promptly strode over and with surprising gentleness moved Virgil to his side,

“It’s bad enough I can’t avoid you at work, Prince, but I’ll not have you ruining our date night.”

As Janus went to lead Virgil away, Roman held onto Virgil’s hand, “Actually, Lies and Dolls, he’s with me tonight, so kindly take your delusions and leave.”

Oh my god, why did he trust Remus’ plan in the first place?! Janus smirked dangerously, “Or what, you dramatic hack?”

Roman took exception to that, and while Janus had the height advantage, Roman still knew how to be intimidating when needed, “I’ll make you leave!”

Before either of them could come to blows, Virgil got in between them. He might as well come clean,

“BOTH OF YOU STOP!”

Janus and Roman faced him, sporting stunned but ever attentive expressions. Ugh, this was gonna hurt.

“I can’t do this anymore! Yeah, I did ask you both here, and yeah! You’re both wonderful but you’re not meant to be with me! You’re meant to be with each other! Ugh, this was a mistake! I can’t-! I can’t be here, I’m sorry-!”

Virgil wrenched himself from between them, making a beeline through the tables and just getting out of the door before the two caught up to him. In the back of his mind, Virgil assumed the serving staff that followed behind were either desperate to see this unfold or just making sure this wasn’t going to be a dine ‘n’ dash scenario.

“Virge, come on, you’re not making any sense! I’m not meant to be with Janus,”, Roman assured him, rolling his left sleeve up the whole way and revealing Virgil’s soul mark, “I’m meant to be with you! You’re my soulmate, Virgil! Surely you knew-”

“That’s,”, Janus interrupted, “That’s not possible, because Virgil is my soulmate.”

Both Roman and Virgil turned to face him, watching Janus roll up his right sleeve to reveal Virgil’s soul mark in the exact same place as Roman’s had been. 

To say Virgil was confused was an understatement, “W...Wait, no, that’s...”

Roman and Janus stared at each other’s soul mark then looked to Virgil, “You… really didn’t know that I- that we were your soulmates?”

Virgil shook his head, ”I don’t have your soulmarks though! It doesn’t make sense...”

He turned away, grasping his arms as he tried to make sense of all this. All his life, Virgil had looked in his mirror and wished - God, how he’d wished - to find just one mark. Something to prove that he was indeed someone’s soulmate. That the universe hadn’t forsaken him. And now he had two of the most wonderful men he’d ever met sporting his soul mark while he had nothing to reassure him this wasn’t some cosmic fluke?!

Janus and Roman stood in awkward silence, the latter giving the servers an apologetic look and pulling out his wallet to pay when the former noticed something about Virgil that had him squinting to get a look. “.... Virgil, do forgive me for this.”

Without hesitating, Janus whipped out his pocket knife - why he brought it on a date, Virgil had no idea - and cut a hole in the back of Virgil’s tights, careful to avoid his skin.

“What the FUCK, Janus!?”, came the obviously horrified reply, only for Janus to take a picture with his phone and hand it to Virgil, rendering him speechless.

Sure enough, there on the inside of his right knee joint was Janus’ soul mark. 

“I just happened to spot the same shade of yellow showing through and, well….”

He didn’t need to finish, Virgil was stunned to silence. All this time, how could he have missed it!? 

Well, it wasn’t in the easiest to see area, and come to think of it, his mirror was a little too high off the ground for that kind of angle, and with the marks being so small..…..

The revelation was met with a shocked gasp from Roman.

“... Virgil, may I-”

“I’ll just take them off, fucking hell!”

Both men turned away to let Virgil remove his shoes and tights in peace. When he gave them the all clear, Roman was ecstatic to note his own soul mark adorning the left knee joint. Virgil glanced towards his two soulmates, letting out a soft sigh of adoration at their delighted faces. He was feeling a whole rush of emotions, but right now? The last thing he wanted was to waste any more time.

“Gimme a second to pay these guys,”, Virgil gestured to the gaggle of servers set in various expressions of celebratory delight, “Then we can go back to my place and have a movie night.”

Roman and Janus offered sweet smiles to their soulmate; that sounded like the perfect end to a wild night.

---- Bonus (Because I got attached to this universe, fight me) ----

With the cafe clearing out aside a few stragglers, Remy sighed distantly, “Well, it’s a good thing we both won, babes, I didn’t wanna get stuck with all that overtime.”

Logan gave him a perplexed look, “Actually, we both lost, therefore we both should work overtime.”

Remy pulled down his shades to glare at Logan, “.... Are you fucking kidding me? Bitch, we WON, and we get to keep our money, babes. What part of that makes you think “nope, overtime sounds better”!?”

Logan was about to go into the technicalities when he chanced a glance back at his soulmates, watching as Patton excitedly gushed over the night’s events, stimming excitedly with their apron while Emile folded his own and put it away for the night, glad to listen to Patton’s bubbly rambling. Logan couldn’t deny, the idea of staying late while his soulmates were home without him wasn’t an appealing idea. Maybe this once he’d spare Remy a lecture.

“.... You know what, you’re right. Excuse me.”

With that, Logan went to join his soulmates while Remy stifled a fond smirk and went to go ask the last patron to leave. He wanted to just go home and collapse into Remus’ arms. Ugh, he just hoped this dude wasn’t going to make a fuss. He wasn’t sure what kind of guy combined a suit, a beanie, shades, AND a face mask, but Remy just hoped he wasn’t here to rob the place.

“Alright sweetie, you gotta go. We’re closing and I wanna get home to my loveable dumbass. Let’s go-”

The man gestured to his ear. Ah. Remy rolled his eyes and leant down to speak closer,

“I said-“

The man quickly pulled down his face mask and stole a peck from Remy, a grin spreading across his face that curled excitedly to match his moustache.

“You gotta get home to meeeee~.”

Remus took off the sunglasses and beanie, revelling in the surprise that painted itself over Remy’s face. He stood up, wrapping his arms around Remy’s waist as his soulmate tried to form a sentence, “How long have you just been sitting here?!”

“Ever since I figured it’d be funny to watch Virgil realise he was trying to set up his own soulmates-”

“You- Wait, Virgil!? That’s the guy you’re always telling me about?!”

“Yep!”, Remus grinned.

Remy wrapped his arms around Remus’ neck, unsure if he wanted to strangle him or hold him closer, “...Did you know he-”

“Had two soulmates? Yep~!”

Remus chuckled and kissed Remy’s cheek, “Virge and I used to have gym together. He kept saying he couldn’t find his soulmarks, I’m surprised he never got my hints...”

Sighing annoyedly at his soulmate, Remy pulled him in for a proper kiss before he could go on more of a tangent. Once they broke apart, Remy poked Remus’ chest, 

“You made me lose thirty bucks, y’know.” 

Remus grinned harder and pulled out twenty dollars  “Well then, I better take this generous donation from my best friend and treat you to a milkshake on the way home then...”

-----

It’s finally doooone!!

This was a long one for sure, but sue me, I got super into this one!!

I’ll be playing catch up for a while so get ready for Day 11, I ended up with a last minute change and it’s gonna be a tear jerker. @tsshipmonth2020

Taglist: @somehow-i-got-an-account @cateye-glasses @fandomsofrandom

#anaroceit #remsleep #glasses gays #lomile #patmile #logicality #idk what their poly ship name is #soulmate september #my fics #fanfics #roman #virgil #logan #patton #janus #remus #remy #emile #can we just make the logan patton and emile ship name like #smth like functional therapy #idk they're just vvv cute

[kerwritesthings]

Subway Surfing

Summary: When a literal run in changes the course of a day, let alone of a life…

Word Count: little bit over 2.2k

Warning: adorable, fluff and funny

Author Notes: A bit of a birthday surprise for @fallinallincurls​ - Happy, happy birthday Bre! Big birthday deserves nothing more than the start of a new verse for the hockey boy I forced at you last year. Umm sorry not sorry.

Things have been a lot of not ok around here for a good clip, I’ve been really not ok. It’s been hard. Writing hasn’t come, life has just kept throwing me down and down. Trying to fight the way back up, not easy but I’m trying. This was a nice way to try to get back some of that light. I had been poking at this for a beat, the idea gnawing at me with some pieces written, notes scribbled around, but birthday sparkle helped get it over the finish line. Part two already has some bones, as does part three - but please to bear with me if you will.

You hate that it’s a Saturday and you’re trekking your way into the office. It’s finally truly fall in the city and it’s a gorgeous day. The last thing you want is to be stuck at your desk behind a computer screen. You want a hot spiked apple cider, a book, a good playlist and your plaid blanket on the grass in Central Park.

It looks like the rest of the city is awake early on this day for the same reason. The subway, which normally is slightly more bearable at this time on a weekend, is the furthest thing from that. It’s packed with people including the grimy, sweat-ladened guy in the chopped-up joggers and crocs who keeps trying to “accidentally” bump and grab you every chance he gets.

The next stop, you try to move but too many people are coming on and off as the doors only quickly open and shut. You just end up jostling as the car jolts in its start. You can’t fall forward. It would land you right into the situation you’re trying to flee. Instead, you try to lean back but you slip. Fully prepared to wipe out, a hand comes gently to steady your elbow while another holds you at your shoulder.

You hear a mish mosh of “careful there” and “are you ok” crossing together as you get back steady on your feet.

“Thanks for saving me for either face planting or landing in that sweaty creep’s grasp,” you say, sliding your bag back securely on your shoulder before turning.

You know those faces. You’ve seen them on billboards and most definitely on TV. Shit, shit and shit. Of course, the two star, absolutely adorable bestie forwards from the New York Islanders have come to your rescue. This would be your luck. At least you pulled yourself somewhat together for this Saturday jaunt to the office. You keep a straight face, smiling normally and not letting anything on.

“Couldn’t let you risk that. He’s been a bit of an ass since he got into the car. We said if he were still acting a fool at next stop, we would jump in. Plotted a rescue mission and everything,” the one explains, hand running through his hair.

“His mission was to cross his arms and give him the eye,” the other mocks, shoving at his friend’s shoulder. “I mean I guess he can look threatening, like a puppy maybe.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. These two are exactly as they’ve seemed in interviews. Mathew and Anthony really are as thick as thieves.

“That sarcastic asshole is Anthony and I’m Mat. We’ll stay close until he leaves, or you need to,” he remarks.

“You don’t have to do that. It’s the subway. That happening unfortunately is just another day that ends in y, you know?” you explain. “I also don’t want to take up more of your time or ruin any of your plans.”

“You deal with that? Often?” Anthony asks, eyes a little wide.

“Welcome to New York,” you shrug. “Not every day thankfully. But it’s often enough.”

“I hope you know, that wasn’t, and we weren’t...” Mat tries to stumble through.

“No, no, no. Totally. I didn’t get that whatsoever,” you respond. “Not that from either of you guys. Promise. It’s sweet to know there are still gentlemen out in this world.”

They both get a little bashful smile across their pretty faces.

“Glad to help,” they practically say in unison which causes you to bark out a laugh.

Time to shoot your shot, you think to yourself. Worse case, it’s a moment you get to have for a fun bar story.

“I think we need to become friends, boys,” you start. “Or at the very least, I owe you a drink for saving me.”

“Yes,” Anthony jumps in, nodding his head with a wide grin. “You should come to brunch with us.”

“If I didn’t have to get to the office I would,” you reply. “Unfortunately, it’s stuff I need done before a Monday morning meeting.”

“Office work on a Saturday? That’s no fun. Play hooky! We can promise a bottomless brunch,” he teases.

“Maybe after though?” Mat chimes in with a soft smile. “Get what you need to done, give you something to look forward to after?”

“I don’t want to ruin whatever plans you’ve had for the day,” you begin before the boys both shake their heads.

“It’s just brunch and shopping to try to get this one to up his style game,” Mat chides while Anthony rolls his eyes.

You bite your lip fighting back yet another giggle. These two, at the very least, would truly make some good friends. You dig around in your tote, finally snatching your card holder.

“Not sure how long I’ll be stuck. I’m hoping only a couple hours. But. If you’re serious. Text or call me,” you say, handing one off to each of them.

They both nod, each pocketing your card as the subway comes to a halt.

“Oh shit, this stop is mine. Thanks again for the soft hands and clutch assist guys,” you wink, dashing away quickly before the doors close.

“What is my life,” you mutter, the boys waiving as the train pulls away. “I need to get to the office.”

“Ok, I think that’s the first time we’ve ever had someone realize who we are in public, without a whole big scene or making a blatant ass grab type pass. We’re keeping her. Plus, you like her,” Anthony teases, shoving at Mat’s shoulder as they hit the sidewalk coming up from the subway.

“I could say the same thing to you Tito,” he snarks back, shoving in return. “You were batting the eyes. I’m not blind.”

“She seems cool and yeah she’s pretty, but I’m not jaw drop like you were when you saw her,” he chirps back. “I was trying to get a rise out of you dude. And it worked, you actually stepped up the game. And now you have her info. Don’t make me text her too. Cause I will.”

You’re just about to settle into your email with a cup of what your office likes to consider coffee when your phone starts buzzing about in quick succession.

“Looks like this is a thing,” you mumble to yourself, lips quirking up into a half smile as you formulate a reply.

“You knew?” Anthony grins over his beer. “From the start?”

You nod, sipping at your cider. You pushed through your work to be able to meet the two downtown at this tiny spot in NoLiTa that was tucked away from the crazy of the neighborhoods it was snug between. It wasn’t as sleek as you thought they’d choose; it was something much more comfortable and lower key.

“Really?” Mat questions.

“Yep. One of you not with the other? I would have had to do double take. I would have noticed, but probably would have questioned. However, the two peas in a pod together? That was a no brainer,” you explain, fighting back a bit of a giggle.

“You didn’t say anything,” Mat replies.

“How many times does that happen and it turn into a thing or a bit of a scene?” you circle the bottom of the cider bottle around on the tabletop. “There was also no point to, either. You were just trying to enjoy the day and you were being super kind keeping me from wiping out. I get it’s New York, so it’s a less likely thing but it still happens.  So, if I could keep it from another one of those moments...”

“Told you Barzy, we’re keeping her,” Anthony taps his beer against yours. “Welcome to the crazy, Evangeline.”

You can’t help but tinge a little pink.

“Well then. If that’s the case, my friends call me Evie,” you smile.

“Evie,” Mat lets the name roll around his tongue.

A couple rounds later, of both beers and darts, you realize how tight the two are and more so, how easily you could become entangled in friendship with them. And you do. Texts and memes and random photos fly back and forth, you all hang when all your schedules align. You’re also fostering relationships with each of them separately too; sharing recipes of things you want to try to bake and longing about the places you miss in Quebec with Anthony while Mat was trying to teach you more about basketball (with little luck) and in turn you trying to expand what he calls music and what actually is music. You also share some of your favorite places in the city that the two really didn’t know about. It was easy with them, together and individually but you were getting a bit more of a tug, a bit of a warmer burn with Mat.

A Saturday morning a few weeks after the afternoon drinking funtivities, you wake up to a few texts, photos really, from the group chat with the boys. First is a pair of tickets and passes to their game that night. Second is two jerseys: a blue Barzal and a white Beauvillier. The third, a text from Mat.

Choose carefully…

We’re also not taking no for an answer. You’re coming. Game and drinks after.

“Oh shit,” you exhale, quickly jumping to your closet.

“Beth?” you call out from your room, tossing through your clothes looking for two specific items. “Please tell me you don’t have plans tonight.”

“Hot date with a bottle of pinot noir and trash tv, why?” she pokes her head into your room.

“Good. You do now. You’re coming with me to the Islanders game tonight,” you mutter, flipping through more hangars.

“Wait excuse me?” she flops down, cross-legged on the end of your bed.

“So, I may have left a tiny detail out from when I told you about the two cute guys who saved me on the subway,” you explain.

“Ok and?” Beth prompts you to continue.

“They’re Islanders…” you trail off.

“What?” she screams tossing one of your throw pillows at you.

“I’m trying to not make a big deal, cause you know. But, at the same time, well you know,” you reply, finally finding the long sleeve you wanted to wear as well as one of your hockey jerseys.

“You need to give me more than this, Evie,” Beth pries.

You lean back against your closet door.

“It was Anthony Beauvillier and Mat Barzal,” you say.

Beth screams and throws another pillow at you.

“You just casually didn’t tell me that you met the damn Calder winner and his like bromance bestie,” she laments. “Evie, what the fuck?”

“This is exactly why,” you sigh. “Like it started out as ok I could have a moment, a cool story to tell. But honestly, they’re two really great guys.”

“You’re not telling me something, I can see it in that wistful look,” she pokes. “Oh god you’re sweet on one of them, aren’t you?”

You shake your head at Beth, not acknowledging the question. Shoving her over a little, you fold the jersey on the bed next to her, so the logo was perfectly visible, but no giveaway of the name on the back or numbers on the sleeves.  

Fine if you two summon I guess I must go. I’m bringing Beth, my roommate, so you need to behave. She’s already a pretty big hockey fan so I apologize now in advance for any of her crazy. She’s great but gets excited. Also, easy answer: where’s the Ebs jersey? ;) Or I can always wear this one.

You snap a quick shot of your Dallas Stars jersey.

Mat of course chimes in first.

That’s cold Evie, really cold. And that thing? That’s even worse. Who is on there? Do I wanna know?

Then Anthony.

Non. Non. Non. Why do you even have that jersey!?

“You’ve got that look,” Beth pokes at your thigh. “I’ll leave you be for now. Need to be at the arena what 6? We should leave here at 4:30. Worse case we get there early, we can snag a drink nearby. I don’t trust the train or the subway on a Saturday to be on time. Thanks for bringing me, Roomie. I’m excited and I get to meet these boys of yours.”

I have favorites across the league, you both know I liked the sport well before you two came along. I have the appropriate jerseys for my boys. Well, almost. You guys making me choose is mean af. Rock paper scissors it between you both, whoever wins that’s what I’ll wear.

“Just leave her yours, you know you want to no matter who would win at that little challenge of Evie’s,” Anthony smiles as the text comes through, clapping his friend on the shoulder. “And I know you’d pull shit to do it no matter what. She’s really your girl anyway.”

“What…” Mat starts before Anthony jumps in.

“You know it’s never been like that with her for me, dude. She’s awesome and I’m so glad to have her as a friend,” he replies. “You though? Since moment one, she’s been something else for you. You need to make a move. You’ve got game, I’ve seen it.”

“Evie’s. She’s Evie. There’s more there...” he leans back into his locker.

“More reason to then Barzy,” he volleys back. “Come on, get your shit together. We can drop everything to leave for her on the way out.”

#mathew barzal #mat barzal #hockey fic #hockey imagine

[duhragonball]

Battle Tendency Liveblog: JJBA Ch. 65-66

This is the start of the “Ultimate Warriors from Ancient Times” arc, but I want to focus on these two chapters because they feature Mark.   I’ve got a lot to say about Mark under the cut, but the short version is that he’s a lousy Nazi and he deserves everything that happens to him.

A large chunk of Chapter 65 is just Caesar hanging out in Joseph and Speedwagon’s hotel room.   They try to play cards, but they’re both cheats.  This wouldn’t bother me at all until Speedwagon points out that he’s been here for eight hours, and never bothered to explain why.   You’d think Joseph would have demanded an answer a long time ago, since he’s not known for patience.  

As it turns out, Caesar’s been waiting for Mark, a buddy of his in the German Army.   Stroheim was in the German Army too, and he told Joseph that the Nazis had discovered three other Pillar Men in Rome.   That’s why he and Speedwagon came here, after all.    Well, Caesar’s an Italian, and Italy and Germany are allies, so Caesar managed to persuade the Germans (through Mark) to let him take a look at the Pillar Men.    So in this chapter, Mark rolls up in a car and drives them over to the site. 

But we already know what happened at the site in Chapter 64.   The Pillar Men have already reawakened, and all the Nazi soldiers stationed there have been slaughtered.   When Mark leads our heroes into the catacombs, they find the remains of the Germans, while Mark bumps into the Pillar Men themselves.  (Note: the above image is not to scale).

The thing is, bumping into the Pillar Men is hazardous to your health.    We saw that vampire grab Santana and large chunks of his body were completely absorbed.   The same thing happens to Mark, only faster, because Wamuu doesn’t even slow down as he walks past him.    He just walks right through Mark and half of his body is gone.  

So when I first watched the JoJo anime, it was right after I watched the Hellsing Ultimate anime, and I got a kick out of seeing two completely different anime takes on vampire lore.   Let’s face it, the Pillar Men are presented as something beyond mere vampires, but they’re basically just super-vampires, not so different from Alucard in Hellsing.    And both make use of the Nazis, except in Hellsing, the Nazis are the villains, while in Battle Tendency, they’re kinda sorta allies.  Stroheim is clearly a bad guy, because he killed his prisoners and tormented Speedwagon, but Mark is presented as a completely sympathetic person.   He’s got a sweetheart back home, Caesar’s the one who introduced them, and he’s planning to get married the next time he goes back to Germany.   And for his very brief appearance in JJBA, he’s completely friendly and helpful to the heroes.   We’re supposed to feel very sorry for him when he gets killed here.  

Part 2 is my favorite, but I think this stands out as it’s biggest flaw.   I get the idea.    Hellsing was dealing with a lot of dark themes, and the protagonists were horrifying in their own right.   So Kouta Hirano used the Nazis as villains to humanize his vampire characters.    By contrast, Hirohiko Araki seems to be using the Nazis to dehumanize the Pillar Men.   They’re so evil that even the Nazis look halfway decent by comparison.   At least the Nazis are human, with human loves and fears and honor.    The Pillar Men kill Mark without even noticing him, and Speedwagon likens this to a human stepping on an ant.     I get what Araki is trying to do here, but it rings hollow.    Fuck Mark, and fuck his Nazi fiance.  The first time we see him, we get a close up of his Iron Cross medal, with the damn swastika in the middle of it.    We’re supposed to buy into the idea that he’s “one of the good Germans”, and it’s 1938, so World War II hasn’t officially started yet, so somehow Mark is supposed to be cool.   But no, I don’t buy it.

Let me go off on a little sidebar and try to explain how we got here.   Battle Tendency was published in 1988.   Back then, Hitler had been dead for decades, and Germany had been partitioned into two countries, East and West Germany.   The Nazis seemed to have been consigned to the dustbin of history, and as time passed, pop culture grew more comfortable using the Nazis as historical villains in stories like this one.    There was a sense that yeah, the Nazis were really bad, but they were gone now, and they would never come back.   I think there was a similar mentality surrounding the Soviet Union after the U.S.S.R. dissolved.    By the 2000′s there were all sorts of internet memes about Nazi stuff and Soviet stuff and it was rationalized as harmless envelope-pushing. 

The problem is, it doesn’t seem so harmless in 2021, when Russia is a autocracy that meddles in U.S. elections, emboldening white nationalists in the process.   The “alt-right” fanatics who marched in Charlottesville in 2017?   The rioters who stormed the Capitol building this past January?   Those assholes probably wouldn’t call themselves Nazis, but neither did the Nazis.   They called themselves “National Socialists”, because they were trying to make their ugly policies sound more legitimate.   The same holds true for “alt-right”, “economic nationalist”, “Qanon”, “truther”, and so on.   They’re just new labels for the same old horseshit.  

I don’t want to judge Battle Tendency too harshly, because it’s the product of a different time, an era when people could at least pretend that Nazism was one of the few problems that we didn’t have to worry about any more.   The same mentality can be found in Hellsing.   The Nazis in Hellsing are definitely villains, but the conceit is that they’re all immortal vampires or werewolves, because that’s the only way the Nazi menace could possibly exist in 1999.    Otherwise, they’d all be dead of old age.   Battle Tendency is set in 1938, so it takes the liberty of presenting sympathetic Nazis, because we already know they’ll be defeated in the end, right?   We might as well see what makes them tick.  

Araki may have thought that using Nazis in a story set in the 1930s would be no different than using Napoleonic French soldiers in a story set in the 1800s.  And in the long run, that might be true, but I don’t think we’re there yet.   In the here and now, it’s aged rather poorly.  

Of course, just because Caesar and Joseph feel bad for Mark doesn’t mean I have to.   And Araki may have been more self-aware than I’m giving him credit for.    Nazi Germany wanted to set itself up as the Master Race, and in this fictional world, the Pillar Men have come to do the same thing, only they’re much, much further ahead of the game.   I think part of the point of Stroheim and Mark was to contrast the Nazis’ supreamcist attitudes with Kars’ ambitions.   For all of Stroheim’s boasting, he’s helpless against Kars’ might.   But at the same time, for all of Kars’ power and brilliance, he’s ultimately chasing the same pipe dream as Hilter and his followers.  

Let’s get back on track.    While the good guys react in horror at what happened to Mark, the Pillar Men just stand around nearby and discuss their situation.   They completely ignore our heroes, just like they ignored Mark.   Kars wants to locate the Red Stone of Aja, because it’s the secret ingredient to the mask he designed that will make them immune to sunlight.   Esidisi doesn’t understand how the stone helps their plan, but he’s totally on board.    But as they head out, Wamuu suddenly attacks Kars, because Kars stepped in his shadow, and apparently Wamuu just lashes out at anyone who does this, friend or foe.   

Wamuu is deeply sorry for this, and begs to be punished, but Kars apologizes instead, because he knows about Wamuu’s whole shadow thing and he feels that he’s the one who made the mistake here.  I really love this exchange, because it defines the Pillar Men so well.    As indifferent as they are to human lives, they respect one another a great deal.   Kars is the leader, but he still treats the other two guys like close associates.    He needs Wamuu’s sharp senses and keen warrior instincts.   Meanwhile, Wamuu and Eisidisi practically worship Kars like a god.   They’ve literally followed him around the world and across thousands of years in pursuit of his vision. 

So yeah, if the goal here was to use Mark’s suffering to make me hate the Pillar Men, it doesn’t work.  The Pillar Men are evil, sure, but they’re pretty cool bad guys.   On the other hand, Mark looks ridiculous here, with Caesar holding and talking to half of his body.   This looks like something out of a Tex Avery cartoon.   

I mean, let’s set aside the whole Nazi thing for a moment.   Why should I feel sorry for Mark?  Because he’s in pain?   He got cut in half!   He should have died instantly!    Because he was going to get married?   We only met this guy one chapter ago!   Because he’s Caesar’s friend?  Well Caesar’s kind of a jerk too.  

Anyway, Mark begs Caesar to kill him and end his suffering, so Caesar uses the Ripple to stop his heart.    Or the half of it that’s still there, I guess.   

Okay, so the whole point of Mark’s death is to really get the good guys fired up to battle the Pillar Men, right?    Okay, Caesar tries to take them on, and he opens with the Bubble Launcher, the same move he talked about earlier.   It didn’t beat Joseph, but Caesar’s Hamon power does hurt Wamuu’s skin, which is more than Joseph managed to do against Santana.  

The Bubble Launcher is supposed to surround the opponent with dozens of soap bubbles charged with Hamon energy.  Wamuu can’t escape without touching them and getting hurt.   But Wamuu just sprouts all these long braids from his head and clothes, and swings them around with superhuman precision to know the bubbles away without hurting himself.  

As it turns out, these Pillar Men are familiar with Hamon.   Santana was surprised to encounter Joseph Joestar’s powers, but Wamuu and the others have fought Ripple users in the past.    And Wamuu’s more intrigued than worried...

Oh, as one final aside, on the car ride to the catacombs, Speedwagon asked Caesar if he tried to use the Ripple to destroy the Pillar Men before they woke up, and Caesar explains that it didn’t work while they were in their dormant state.   Remember, at the very start of this story, Speedwagon called Straizo because he wanted someone to use the Ripple to destroy Santana before he could wake up.   Now we see that even if Straizo had agreed to his request, it wouldn’t have done any good.   Sunlight doesn’t seem to kill the Pillar Men so much as it makes them turn to stone, and the Ripple only hurts them while they’re flesh and blood.   So the only way to kill them seems to be by using Hamon in a direct confrontation, and that’s a tall order...

#jojo's bizarre adventure #battle tendency #joseph joestar #caesar zeppeli #robert e o speedwagon #mark #wamuu #kars #esidisi #get wrecked mark

[manchesterau]

Your Gay Uncle Harry

Okay so I have been really hung up with all those photos of Harry in Italy recently and one thing came to mind when looking at all the photos: Gay Uncle. I even made a post about it! So now I present to you a small fic about your gay Uncle Harry. It’s written in 2nd person pov because I don’t like the feel of 1st person. I...have no idea why I wrote this, and who would even enjoy this but here it is! This is...diffrent from anything I’ve ever written before but I sorta fell in love with this, so I hope you do too.

My own prompt: harry is giving gay rich uncle who you don’t really know too much about because he’s always traveling around with his boyfriend but always invites you and your cousins to his villa in the south of italy for the summer where he plays host

Your family never really talks about him, and when you were younger you never really understood why. The way they all talked about him seemed like he had passed, always in past tense, never spoken about with happiness, always in hushed whispers. Always when the children were away, out of sight out of mind.

When you were younger you pictured him as a ghost, a white sheet with curly hair, bunny teeth, and dimples. You pictured him living hundreds of years ago, in the city somewhere if you were itching to get out of the country, and sometimes in the country herding sheep when you were in the city missing home. 

It took a while, but then you finally understood why no one really talks about Uncle Harry. You grew up on a vineyard in California. Uncle Harry was born in a small village in the UK. There is one picture of you and him together, and it’s when you were a baby. His mum, his sister (your Aunt Gemma), and Uncle Harry all traveled to the United States for the first time to see you.

Your mother holds up the picture, she doesn’t understand your curiosity about your Uncle, and quite frankly you can tell that it annoys her, but she tries not to show it for your sake.

You hold the picture up with shaky hands. You’re nervous because you’ve never really seen a picture of him before, it’s like he had been erased from history. Or your family tried very hard to make sure that he was. So when you see his big bright smile, wild curls, and steady arms holding you almost nineteen years ago you want to cry. You don’t, because then you would have to explain to your mom why you’re crying but you sniffling some here and there. He’s holding you with so much pride, so much love, like your his baby, and this is a photo taken right after he’s given birth.

“Why...I mean I guess I don’t understand why you all never really talk about him.” You say.

Your mom pauses, she turns away from you for a second. “I...honestly I think there was a falling out years ago and...and we all know Harry can hold a mean grunge like nobodies business. All of us can really. But, I mean he still comes around sometimes when he’s not busy traveling the world, to say hi and he always asks for updates on you kids.”

You nod, the photo in your hand weighs heavy in between your finger tips. Then your mom pulls out her phone, goes to Facebook, and pulls up Uncle Harry’s page. It’s like an explosion of rainbows, of the likes you’ve never really seen before. Only on the internet, communities you guard with all of your heart, a safe space for your eyes only. And then you start to understand why it’s all hushed voices when talking about Uncle Harry. You scroll for hours through his page, later on, watch video after video, smile at every picture he puts up. 

A random dish from a random country he visited last month. Funny old people memes that make you snort. Him all wrapped up in the pride flag, and what you assume is his lover right beside him. A picture from a few weeks ago of them embracing, his name starts with an L and that’s all Uncle Harry says about him regarding his name. Post after post after post about how he had found the one, how in love he was, how his boyfriend was pushing him to reconnect with his family, his love for his smile, the way his eyes crinkle, the barely-there freckles that dot his cheeks. The moments they’ve shared, the heartache they’ve endured, the sweet bliss and utter happiness and love they have for each other.

You cry. Not because you’re upset, but because of how robbed you were of knowing your Uncle. So you friend him on the Facebook you created an hour ago. When you get a message from him two days later asking if your family or a friend of the family you yell and thank whoever is above that no one is home. You reply that he’s your Uncle, go over the semantics on who your dad is, your mom, aunts, uncles, cousins, grandma, papa. By the end he sends you a video, saying how he doesn’t understand all the texting and emojis and you call him an old man and he says he doesn’t take offense to that.

“I like to think of myself as an old soul. Also I’m only thirty-seven, that’s hardly old.”

You laugh at his accent, and he laughs at your lack of one. 

You never talk about what happened that made him estranged from the family, but deep down you understand. And when he says he can see a little of himself in you, you cry.

It’s summer, you're at home miserable because of the sweltering heat. The past few days you’ve been to a lot of family gatherings, and it annoys you that the hushed whispers about Uncle Harry never stop. You want to yell at them, to scream and sing his praises but you don’t. And then your mother walks through the side glass doors, her white cowboy hat sling low on her head. Yours sits on the ground below you, an ant crawls by slowly. She looks over at you, once, then again, and then she smiles and nods to herself, hangs up, and walks over.

“Your Uncle Harry is inviting you and your cousins to his villa in Italy if you want to go.” She says it so nonchalantly that you think she’s joking around and you roll your eyes. She shrugs and crosses her arms, stares you down. That’s how you know she’s not joking.

The next thing you know you're on a long flight to Italy. Five of your cousins are on the same flight, the rest of them declined. And then you’re getting off the plane, taking a car, and now you’re standing in front of a house. The stone feels warm under your fingertips as you slide your hand across the side of the house. You’re welcomed by Uncle Harry’s boyfriend, his smile friendly and inviting. His fringe gets in his eyes a lot, and he complains about it, says your Uncle loves his hair like this. You smile, something deep inside you settling. 

He takes you all on a small tour, shows you your rooms, tells you your Uncle went on a shopping trip, and should be back very soon. He leaves you to unpack, and you leave your suitcase on the twin-sized bed, wandering around amazed at everything. It feels like home, in a way where you know you won’t get homesick from being here for the summer. It feels like love, like taking a bit out of a warm cookie, like a cuddle with your mom while it rains outside, like curling up next to the fire with a good book. You haven’t felt this way in a long time.

And if there’s one thing no one tells told you about Uncle Harry, is that he sure does know how to make an entrance. You’re looking at the view of the sea beside the pool, you can hear the sound of children playing on the beach below, people moving around in the house behind you, the gentle sway of the leaves as a light breeze blows through.

“How’s the view?”

He startles you, bright big smile on his face and his bunny teeth on display. His hair is shorter than the pictures he’s uploaded before, and he’s actually been able to grow a mustache. He laughs when you tell him this before pulling you into a big hug. You don’t cry like you thought you would, but you do tear up a little.

“I can’t believe you’re actually real.” You say. You still think of him sometimes as a ghost, but without the paper sheet and more real, a little translucent at times. 

He pulls back, an arm slung around your shoulder as he hip checks you, his sunburnt nose moves a little as he says, “In the flesh, love.”

You don’t tell him this, but later on as the summer winds down, as the gentle breeze that brought a little moment of peace between the unrelenting day's of heat starts to pick up more, and as classes are due to start again you think about how this was the best summer ever. You hug him extra tight before you and your cousins head off home. And just before you get in the cab he pulls you aside and gives you a rainbow pin.

He tells you, “Your never alone. I know how it feels, but know that you’ve got someone in your corner rooting for you.”

You cry, waving goodbye to Uncle Harry and his boyfriend as they wave back embracing. You take the pin and stick it to your shirt, you get a smile from one of your cousins at the airport and the weight on your shoulder lift a little.

#* #when I say I have no idea what this is yall #but I wrote it and it's the most ive wrote in literal WEEKKKKSSS ijuhygtf anyways embarrassed look away!!! #format of the pictures suck bc you can't add read more on the app and on the app is the only way you want put two pics #in a text post together side by side anyways look away!! #my writing

[solalunar-eclipse]

Scars You Can’t See - Chapter 12

Chapter title: Beliefs

Word count: about 4100 words

Author’s Note: How did I write over four thousand words?? Mostly I’m just grateful this chapter got out in time, but still. Wow.

First  | Previous | Next

...

Over the next few days, Team Sonic dedicated their time to helping their counterparts recover from the exhausting ordeal of the past couple weeks. Tails worked to replace some of Omega’s burnt-out wiring (from his attack on G.U.N.), while Knuckles and Sonic...well, they wanted to take care of Rouge and Shadow, but it was very difficult when both Mobians kept insisting that they were “fine really, don’t worry about us so much” despite looking like they could collapse at any second.

The general stress level on the island was only raised upon a second call from the president, since she requested that a few of them come see her to discuss what should be done with G.U.N. at her office. Shadow and Rouge obviously weren’t going. Neither of them were ready to deal with the president, let alone the press (even if the latter continued to insist otherwise). The sheer idea of being in the same city as G.U.N. had especially shaken Shadow, even if he refused to say so.

Sonic had seen how he cringed at the mere idea.

Since Knuckles absolutely refused to leave his island, it was decided that Sonic, Tails, and Omega would travel together to see the president and hear what she had to say. She seemed pretty trustworthy, and if any of her staff wasn’t...they’d be able to handle themselves just fine.

While Tails helped haul Omega into the back seat of the Tornado (an impressive feat considering that he’d used to struggle with lifting Sonic in his early years) and prepared for takeoff, the hedgehog in question was zipping all around the island, trying to make sure everything would be okay while he was away and unable to defend his friends.

“You guys are sure you’re gonna be alright?” he asked for what was probably the fifth time, after Shadow had needed to physically stop him from starting a mini-whirlwind.

“Yes, Blue, we’ll be fine. Now go! You don’t want to keep the president waiting!” Rouge insisted, pushing the worried hero towards the Tornado.

He twisted around, trying to make eye contact with both of them. “You’re really, really-”

“Sonic.” Shadow said calmly. “It’s going to be alright. I promise.” 

The hero could practically feel his body untense, finally willing to jump onto the top wing of the biplane and prepare for takeoff. Before Tails fired up the engine, he took one last look at his friends.

Knuckles had walked up beside Rouge and looked like he wanted to put his arm around her waist without being awkward...which just made him look awkward anyway. The bat took the initiative herself, leaning against him comfortably. Her eyes were back to teal again, since she and Shadow had both taken out their contacts pretty quickly. 

Rouge had taken off her leather jacket by now, and Sonic could see it lying on the altar next to Omega’s generator- Angel Island was pretty warm, after all. Shadow was still wearing his hoodie, though he’d taken off the glasses. Omega had tried them on once out of curiosity and nearly broken them in the process...so the hybrid simply hadn’t bothered with it after that. His quills were still in a ponytail, which Sonic wasn’t complaining about in the slightest. (It was a good look on him, that was all!)

He switched on his earpiece and settled into his ‘flight’ position once again. “You guys read me?”

“Loud and clear, hon.” Rouge said. “Now go!”

The Tornado’s engine kicked up a roar as the plane wheeled down the clearing and began to lift off the ground. Knuckles and Shadow both waved, while Rouge opted for a mock-salute, which Sonic returned cheerfully as the plane pulled up above the altar.

He crouched low on the top wing as Tails pulled into a turn, angling the plane so that their course was set for Central City yet again. The fox switched on the turbo engine, too, but it would still take them about an hour and a half to reach the city at this rate.

To pass the time, Tails and Omega started talking almost immediately about how they needed to take some time in the workshop to fix up the latter’s various dents and scratches. Both of them seemed pretty excited about this- the former because he’d get to return to his workshop, the latter for style reasons, and both because they’d get to spend time together. Somewhere along the way, Omega insisted loudly that Tails “must return me to my original color as soon as it is possible to do so.”, clearly less than happy about his current paint job.

Sonic sighed as the conversation turned to advanced technical terminology, feeling a little bored. It was a little funny for him to say so, considering that he was blasting through the sky on a biplane going at speeds rivaling advanced jets...but here he was. Bored.

He tapped his feet, trying to look for shapes in the clouds or enjoy the feeling of the wind on his face, anything to avoid checking how long they’d been up in the air….

Too late.

The hero sighed loudly upon discovering that it had only been ten minutes since takeoff. How could something that was usually so cool be so...just...not?

Sonic quickly decided that he had to call up Angel Island right now so that he could find somebody to talk to. As the earpiece patched through to the other end, he heard a sudden “Ngh-” followed by a loud sigh. 

“Hey, everything okay there?” he asked, resulting in a startlingly high shriek from the other end.

“Sonic! Don’t do that!” Shadow hissed at him. “Give me a little warning next time!”

“There’s, like, actually no way for me to do that without talking.” Sonic shot back cheerfully, feeling more upbeat already.

“Ugh.” the hybrid groaned, before some sort of thud came through the mike.

“Seriously, though, you okay?”

Shadow sighed. “I’ve spent the past four minutes walking through a tangled, vine-filled forest in any direction that is away from the altar. It could be worse, but it could be better too.”

Sonic frowned, worried. “And why were you walking away from the altar? Are Rouge and Knuckles with you?”

“No.” the hybrid muttered. “They’re kind of busy making out. At the altar. Which is why I’m not there, obviously.”

“Aw, man...they probably just missed each other a lot.”

Shadow sighed. “I know they did, and I’m not judging them. But they deserve some privacy, and I really deserve to not have to watch that.”

Sonic grinned. “Hah! That’s fair. So whatcha doing now?”

“Lying on the ground next to a lake and watching some Flickies on a tree. You?”

“Sitting on the plane. And bored. Or, at least I was. Bored, I mean.” Sonic amended quickly.

The hybrid snickered. “I’d hope you’re still sitting on the plane.”

His smile only grew. Talking with Shadow was always fun- he didn’t know why he hadn’t called sooner!

“Soooo...you feelin’ any better after those power naps of yours?” he asked curiously.

“Actually, yes. Mostly it helps to not be looking over my shoulder all the time.” Shadow sighed again. “It’s…” he trailed off, clearly embarrassed.

“Hey, you can tell me!” Sonic said encouragingly.

“It's difficult to adjust. I...still catch myself looking over my shoulder only to see it’s a fly buzzing, not a plane, or something like that. I shouldn’t be, but I am.”

Sonic wished he was back at the island already so that he could give Shadow all the comfort he deserved. “There won’t be any planes there, Shadow. I mean it. And none of that ‘shouldn’t’ talk, either, ‘kay? It’s alright to be a little stressed, just remember everything’s gonna turn out fine.”

“That means a lot...thank you. Again.”

Sonic could feel a grin spreading across his whole face. “No problem! Now, what I really need to tell ya about is……”

He spent the rest of the flight chatting with the hybrid, catching him up on all the jokes, memes and random news he’d missed over the past couple of weeks. Shadow was eager to listen, and Sonic was so glad to finally be able to tell him everything that he swore he’d never take his friend’s presence for granted again.

Eventually, though, he was pulled back to reality in the middle of a particularly passionate explanation of why exactly it was so cool that the Tomatopotamus 2 movie’s release date was finally out when Tails tapped on his shoulder. “Uh, Sonic? We’re here now.”

“What?” The hero glanced down, only to discover that yes, Central City was in fact right beneath them. “No way, that was like twenty minutes!”

Omega shook his head. “Correction: it has been an hour and twenty minutes.” He sounded smug for some reason, and Sonic glowered at the robot irritably.

“I guess I gotta go for now, sorry.” he sighed into the earpiece. 

“Good luck to all three of you.” Shadow said. “I’ll be listening in, and I’ll go break up Knuckles and Rouge now.”

“Good luck to you.” Sonic snickered. He could practically hear Shadow roll his eyes at that one.

They coasted to a stop on the back lawn of the president’s home, the hedgehog pointedly ignoring Tails and Omega’s conversation about the theory of relativity, or something along those lines. Even though he didn’t know what exactly they were talking about, he could guess, and he didn’t approve. At all.

Sonic hopped off the wing of the plane before it had even finished landing the moment he spotted someone on the grass, waving hello as the president herself walked over to greet them. He rushed over to her, taking her hand and shaking it happily. 

He and the president had spoken a few times before- being a hero meant he ended up talking with quite a few famous people, but she was one of his favorites. She was relatively young compared to most of the others who had held that title, but she handled herself with the confidence and strength she deserved (and needed) for this station.

“Hey there! How’s the job?” he asked with an understanding grin, knowing all too well how it felt to be responsible for large groups of people at a time.

She dropped his hand (and the remaining air of formality) in favor of running copper fingers tiredly through her hair, letting out a long sigh. “These last few days have been tough, but I know it’s probably not as much stress as you guys have been dealing with. Still sorry about that, by the way.”

Sonic looked up at her, still sympathetic. “It’s not your fault. I bet you’ve probably got a lot on your plate too- dealing with this fallout ain’t gonna be easy.”

“I know, but it’s what I have to do. For your friends, and for everyone.” she said, squaring her shoulders determinedly.

Tails rushed over not long after, having parked and shut down the plane by now. “Hi, Ms. President! How are you?”

“Hello, Tails,” she said. Impressively, she was one of the few adults who refused to talk down to the young fox, instead treating him like the mature person he was. (This definitely earned her a few extra points in Sonic’s book.) “I’m perfectly alright...I hope you all aren’t doing too badly.”

The president had the thoughtfulness to at least look a little awkward at that, clearly embarrassed by the fact that some of the United Federation’s most famed heroes were now essentially unable to live in the country without being in serious danger. 

Omega greeted her as well as he made his way over, clearly alright with being at least somewhat decent to the woman who had helped shut down G.U.N.

“Would you like to come inside?” she asked politely. “I promise, there’s nothing inside but some Secret Service...and hopefully cake, if I requested it early enough.” she added with a warmer smile.

“What are we here for?” the robot asked bluntly, unprepared to trust as easily as the two Mobians were.

“Right!” she said, taking his question in stride. “I’m working on a new set of rules with the congressional branch that deal with some of the problems within G.U.N. so that they don’t crop up in the future, as well as trying to figure out what to do with them in general- so I wanted your opinion on both of those subjects! As long as that’s alright with you?”

Shadow spoke up in Sonic’s ear. “Rouge is interested and so am I.”

“Totally!” Sonic chirped, following her inside. Omega agreed with Rouge and Shadow (somewhat reluctantly), having tapped into the hero’s communications as they were landing.

Halfway up the stairs to the president’s office, the first lady came rushing in the opposite direction, apologizing all the while for getting in their way. “Hi, Sonic! Hi Tails! Hello, Omega! So nice to see you! Sorry, the cat’s gotten loose again…” she sighed, sagging against the railing briefly.

“We really need to get him a tracking collar, don’t we?” The president shook her head, her soft Afro bouncing as she pinched the bridge of her nose briefly. “Good luck finding him, anyway.”

“Have fun in your meeting!” the first lady chirped, winking overdramatically at her wife for emphasis before rushing off in search of their cat.

Tails grinned up at the president. “I know how you feel...sometimes I want to get a tracker chip for Sonic when he stays out too long on a run.”

“Hey!” the hero protested, but nobody seemed to be terribly worried about his pride. He could hear Knuckles, Shadow and Rouge laughing in his ear, too, and he pouted, wishing more than anything that he could offer a snappy comeback- but he couldn’t give away the fact that he had an earpiece in.

The president invited them into her office and began to lay out her plans for how to improve the country. The legislative body was working with her on some sort of complete shutdown and restructuring of G.U.N.- it seemed like there were going to be new leaders, new hiring processes, review systems, a different set of priorities…and that was just the start.

It was a lot, but Sonic was glad that she’d at least given them the opportunity to hear about these plans. Shadow and Rouge got to provide their input as well, which was great, but only through Omega, not Sonic. They would’ve trusted the president with that information, for sure, but the two members of the Secret Service behind her desk?

No way.

Especially not when Rouge recognized one of them from G.U.N.’s special training programs. They might not be close enough with the organization for it to really mean anything, but the group definitely didn’t want to take chances.

Partway through the meeting (not long after the cake arrived), the main phone on the president’s desk rang, startling everyone out of their conversation. She picked it up with a calm “Hello?”, but her eyes quickly widened as the person on the other end began to speak.

“Thank you.” she said quickly, before putting the phone down. Her eyes met Sonic’s, and he felt his stomach drop. The hero suddenly wished he hadn’t eaten just yet…

 “Three representatives of G.U.N. are at the front gate.” the president said quietly.

The hero heard a gasp in his ear. He wasn’t sure who had done so, but the sound made his surprise morph quickly into defensiveness. “Omega. Tails. Do you guys want to meet with them?” he asked coolly, his face losing most of its expression. 

“I would...like to do so.” the robot said.

Tails met Sonic’s gaze. “Yeah, same here.”

They moved to the main conference room, and the three heroes stood at one end of a long table, waiting for the members of G.U.N. to appear. It didn’t take long before they were buzzed in, and Sonic could feel himself shifting into a more confrontational stance, prepared to fight if necessary. 

The commander was the first one to enter the room. His presence immediately raised everyone’s tension levels- at the very least, he seemed to be aware of it. He almost looked...a little embarrassed? 

The silence on the other end of the communicator was near-deafening.

He was followed almost immediately by an agent that Sonic didn’t recognize, a wolf who seemed more than a little bit awkward and apologetic. She sat down to his left, sneaking glances at each of the three heroes in the room.

After that, a skinny, pale sort of guy entered the room, looking incredibly full of himself. Sonic wasn’t usually one to get bad first impressions of people, but this person irritated him almost immediately. Omega obviously recognized him- and not in a good way- as he began to make several loud clicking noises not unlike those of guns loading. On purpose, of course.

The commander sat down last (still seeming less than comfortable), cleared his throat, and looked up at the other three. “Before I speak, is there anything you would like to say?”

Sonic, Tails and Omega regarded him in stony silence.

He shuffled some of the papers in front of him and sighed quietly. “I would like to begin by apologizing for the distress I and the organization I serve have caused to you and your friends. All of you. I wish...no, I should have handled this in a different manner- requested a meeting, spoken with you first, done something to ensure that my intentions did not appear malicious. But instead…

“...instead I have distanced myself from three of the most skilled people ever to serve under my command, as well as further tarnished G.U.N.’s already ruined reputation. I…” The commander sighed here. This speech was already taking a lot out of him, Sonic could tell.

“I fear that my father’s views have heavily influenced my own, to say the absolute least, especially regarding my job and what needed to be done to serve this organization. ‘Shoot first and ask questions later’ was a favorite motto of his, and one that I accepted for a long, long time...my family has discussed with me lately (and quite gently, perhaps more so than I deserve) about how that ideology is problematic, to say the least.

“I liked to think I was not a bad person. That I was being more open-minded. But now I see that I was foolish to believe as much. I chose to try and salvage G.U.N., to cover up the mistakes as others have done before me because it was ‘for the good of the country’, because ‘other people wouldn’t understand what needs to be done’, and more. My guilty conscience wishes I would blame my father for my mistakes, but at some point, one must take responsibility for one’s own failures.

“Particularly…” and here he looked directly at the three of them, though he almost seemed to be searching for someone else instead, “...having alienated the last person on this planet who truly can comprehend the life I have led.”

Sonic realized with a start that he was talking about Shadow.

“All I can say now is that as of tomorrow, I am resigning as commander of G.U.N. I clearly have not succeeded in improving this organization at all, so I believe a new, younger face...someone without prior biases or contacts...would be better for us now.”

The hero heard gasps in both his ears- one from Rouge and Shadow, the other from the wiry man in front of him. Said human immediately started stammering at the commander, asking him why in the world he thought this was a good idea. The older man in turn merely waved him off with a stern word or two, forcing the other human to sink back into his seat with an obviously displeased expression.

The lavender wolf, the president, Omega, and Tails, on the other hand, all seemed to approve of the commander’s decision, as did Sonic. The hero felt nothing but relief now, hoping that finally, the big things could start to change for the better.

They spoke a little longer, the tensions mostly eased now (with the exception of the skinny guy, of course, who Rouge irritably identified as the less-than-respectful PR officer that the team had spoken to way back in the beginning). The conversation wasn’t very important, just polite nonsense about how change should be made soon and all that. 

Things weren’t comfortable by any means, and they shouldn’t have been, but...Sonic felt a little lighter at the thought that someone important in G.U.N. at least accepted what was going on.

As the three heroes left, the commander asked them for one favor. “Could you please tell Shadow and Rouge that I apologize for the way G.U.N. has behaved? The way in which I have commanded this organization is wrong...I can see that now.”

Sonic offered him a quick flash of a grin, realizing that the commander truly didn’t know about his earpiece, nor Omega’s connection. “Hey, being able to apologize says a lot, too. I’ll be sure to let them know, don’t worry.”

“Thank you, and safe travels.”

“You too, alright?” he replied politely, before hopping onto the Tornado with a wave.

The flight back seemed to take forever (really, this time), partly because Sonic was dying to get back and partly because his friends seemed too busy talking seriously to chat. He tried his best to bask in the feeling of hope, but it was difficult to focus when his excitement was rising with each passing second.

As soon as they landed, he jumped off and ran over to his friends. “It’s gonna be alright now, guys!” he said, grinning at them. “You’re gonna go home soon!”

Rouge gave him a big smile back, before rushing over to Omega to celebrate. “Did you hear that, Omega? We’ll be home in a couple of weeks, max! Shadow-”

She trailed off, watching him carefully. The hybrid was staring down at the ground, his hands trembling slightly. “It’s...done? Then what now? What should we do?” he asked, trying to keep his voice calm and failing miserably. Sonic’s ears drooped a little as he heard the shake in his friend’s voice.

“Now you get to rest. You’ve earned it, you know that? I know it’s tough to just...go back and chill after everything, but you gotta know when to let other people carry on the work ya started, alright?” Sonic said carefully, stepping closer and closer to Shadow. His hands hovered slightly over his friend’s arms, unwilling to touch the hybrid unless he was alright with it first.

Suddenly, Shadow leaned into Sonic’s chest, his eyes shut tightly, clearly fighting back some sort of emotion. The hero held his friend tightly, sinking to his knees in an attempt to comfort Shadow better. Rouge and Omega rushed over, holding him tight as well. “Hey…” the bat said gently, “Shadow, we’re all going to be okay, I promise. We can stop now.”

“How do we know? What if something happens and it all goes wrong-”

Sonic stopped him right there. “We can set up whatever you need to feel comfortable, but trust me, we’ll all make sure nothing goes wrong. I’ll hold the president to her word, and so will everyone else here.”

“But...nobody’s ever really been able to stop G.U.N. before...not even me.” Shadow said quietly.

“There are more people on your side now, Shadow.” Omega replied, looking down at him. “You are not alone in this fight- so many others want this too.”

“I’ll have to wait and see before I can believe that.” he muttered, sighing.

Tails and Knuckles walked over too, the former offering him a hopeful smile and the latter clapping a hand on his shoulder. “You guys can stay here a while longer, I guess, until everything’s sorted out.” the echidna said, trying his best to help.

“Yeah!” Sonic cheered. “We’ll make sure this all gets fixed up properly, alright?”

Shadow smiled faintly at him. “I’ll hold you to that, Sonic.”

The hero couldn’t help but grin back, all his hope for his friend bursting through. And when Shadow’s smile grew just that little bit more real, he was determined to do absolutely whatever it took to make the hybrid smile properly again and again, without any fear holding him back.

He knew, without a doubt, that Shadow was more than deserving of all the happiness in the world.

#shadow the hedgehog #rouge the bat #e 123 omega #sonic the hedgehog #miles tails prower #knuckles the echidna #whoa that's a lot of people #scars you can't see #sycs #sol's fanfiction #i almost thought i wouldn't be able to get this out in time... #life has decided to throw lots of work at me so the last chapter might be a couple of days late #we'll see #also a few clarifications: #the commander is beginning to realize that his father taught him about the world in a very very biased way #and feels pretty bad about it #i didn't know how to end this since it was the chapter with the least planning behind it #so hopefully it turned out alright #and finally #i tried to make it clear that the president is Black but in a respectful way #if i failed to do that then please please please let me know and i will change it #also hopefully shadow wasn't too ooc at the end there #:S #hope you enjoyed the update and have a wonderful day!

[chaoticspacefam]

The Lana Shipping Meme!

This is a meme made by @swtor-legacy-sitcom​ who very kindly tagged me to fill it in, thank you! :D This was super fun, I’ve been in a bit of a writing rutt lately so this was a nice way to sort-of dip my toe back into it :P I TOTALLY forgot this was in my drafts and forgot to schedule it to post, I’m soooo sorry it took so long lmao 😳😬

I’m not sure if we’re supposed to tag other people with this one so I’ll just leave a general, open tag here: if you have a Lana ship and want to fill this one out, feel free to yoink the meme and say I tagged you! Yes, I promise I mean you <3

Spoilers for KOTFE/KOTET, and slight spoilers for the Subterfugeverse “version” of said events, will be discussed below, so be aware of that before proceeding! There’s also some midlly nsfw questions so you might wanna skip those if they’re not your thing! :D Under a cut because it’s long, but no trigger warnings need apply.

Is Lana Beniko absolutely done with their shit?

Oh yes, absolutely. Nearly always. At any given time, BUT Lana wouldn’t have it any other way. Saarai may be a reckless, overly-heroic idiot with seemingly no self-preservation, but she’s Lana’s reckless, overly-heroic idiot, ya know :’D

Do they make jokes together?

Fairly often, yes! Theirs is very much a flirty/fond banter type of relationship. Lana tells her she’s insufferable, Saarai rolls her eyes and snarks back, so on. See:

Saarai: Well this was a stupid idea Lana: Considering it was one of yours, I’m not surprised Saarai: Why didn’t you say something? Lana: I did and you did it anyway. And what have we learnt from this? Saarai, quietly: I’m a dumbass and I should listen to you more.... Lana: Good. I still love you, though. Saarai: :’D

Lana, two minutes later: You’re going to do it again, aren’t you? Saarai: Yeah, probably.

as well as that little cutscene “You’d better come back blah blah blah” “Well I have you to rescue me, that’s all I need~” is their default pre-dangerous battle banter :P

Who’s hornier? (who initiates)

Saarai is definitely hornier, and while she’s not always the one to initiate, she’s definitely the one to ask more often. (if I had to give it a number, prolly something like 65/45 lol) One of these days, Lana’s going to buy a spray bottle /jk

Kinkiest they’ve been?

Not awfully. Saarai’s a biter (Lana likes it, don’t worry 😏) and she loves it when Lana pulls her hair, but other than that, and making use of connections within the Force to heighten the sensations during such activities ;) they’re pretty vanilla

There was a post going around a while back about an alternative to a praise kink that was like, a “reassurance” kink, instead. I can’t find the actual post to link to it and I haven’t pinned down any specifics for them yet but I definitely think that’s a Saarai thing to look into later 😏

Has Lana ever covered up something your OC did as Minister of Intelligence?

In a roundabout way, yes. Technically, Saarai’s entire existence on Rishii. Since, teeechhnically, as far as the Empire’s concerned at that point, Rai’s supposed to be dead. Lana doesn’t know the technicalities of why that is (and Saarai isn’t comfortable telling her, even now), but she knows it’s important, so she does it for her even if she doesn’t know why.

Favorite non sexual downtime activity?

Cuddles! Saarai is a cuddlebug, and while Lana enjoys them she’s definitely not the “if I don’t get cuddled x times a day I can’t go on” type (in my headcanon, ofc, I’m not saying she can never be that way!) but, Saarai’s also very warm and cuddling her is cozy, so it’s something they both enjoy, whether Rai’s the big spoon, or - and this is Rai’s favourite thing ever - Saarai putting her head in Lana’s lap so Lana can play with her hair, it’s something they always do at the end of the day when they’re both done with work.

Mushiest thing Your OC has ever done for Lana?

So, I’m too impatient & lazy to do the actual HK missions in-game, but I know you can technically get another HK unit, so because ✨it’s my fanfic and I get to make the rules✨ Saarai sent Aria (my DS! Jedi Shadow, very good at stealth) back to Zakuul and though it was a bit battered up, she managed to retrieve HK’s processor. They had to get him a new chassis, but Koth and Ty managed to salvage the rest of his “important” bits and they rebuilt HK for her after they settled on Odessen :’3

Most Embarrassed Lana has ever been because of your OC?

In the middle of an important meeting, in front of everyone on the Alliance High Council, including Theron, Senya, Ni’kasi, Vano, etc.

Lana, sarcastically, after they’ve been disagreeing on how to handle a particular matter for ~1 hr: hahaha bite me.

Saarai, dead serious: Okay, where? 😏

Lana was mortified, to say the least XD

That thing that happened that they vow to NEVER speak of?

Saarai’s reaction when they went to Nathema. Rai’s psychometric, and in hindsight she realises putting her hand on that wall as she ducked into the building was a mistake. She was bombarded with flashback after flashback of what had happened on Nathema when it was still Medriaas, the planet where she was born and where most of her family died, it was not a pleasant experience for her and Rai actually collapsed at one stage because it was all too much for her ;w;

Lana had to bring her back around and herd her back on the ship, where Rai had to wait because she just couldn’t go any further, and Lana and Vano had to go on alone. Lana agreed not to tell anyone else about what had happened, because Saarai didn’t want any of them to worry about her, or think she was “weak” because of it.

The Angriest they’ve ever been at each other?

There’s actually two instances that come to mind for this one

1) Koth’s betrayal/stealing of the Gravestone, Lana was pissed at Koth and wanted to take it out on him, Saarai was pissed at the situation and got between them and chewed Lana out for taking it out on him. (Subterfugeverse is kinda complicated, there’s two Commanders calling the shots for different parts of the Alliance, Koth took issue with something Vano did and made the reckless, kinda stupid decision to still steal the Gravestone even tho Saarai didn’t do anything. (also for anyone new to the blog, all three of them are dating, they’re polyam ;)) Lana took it personally, Saarai was more upset that he was upset and didn’t say anything before he did something stupid. Rai and Lana butted heads about how to deal with it, Lana got salty cause she got yelled at, but they ofc fix it later :3)

2) Torian’s death. Saarai had tried to warn Lana what would happen if they split Vette & Torian up during that fight, Lana brushed it off and told Rai to “stop overreacting, it will be fine”. Obviously, it was not fine. Rai was very angry at the result because, I quote, “I WARNED YOU! And you wouldn’t listen to me!” Saarai refused to speak to Lana for a few days after that, it was kinda a rough time for Lana, she’s only seen Rai get that angry a few times, and only once at her so it shook her a bit. 😢

How does both Lana, and your OC initiate the ‘fade to black’ ;)

For Saarai, the “indicator” is usually when her kisses start to become 50/50 between kissing and biting/nibbling. That’s the universal “ok I want to” signal for Rai. Usually very quickly followed by a soft “yes?” or “are you sure?”, either against her skin or into her ear, depending on where she’s kissing at the time; because she’ll always check first, and if Lana says “no”, it’s off, because Lana’s consent is more important than any of her feelings.

For Lana, it’s when she’ll let Rai pick her up and/or usually to pin her to a wall. There’s a decent height difference, Saarai’s 6 ft 3, and I headcanon that while Lana’s not necessarily “short” at around 5 ft 8, she’s considerably smaller than Rai, as well as being more “reserved” with PDA, she’ll hold hands, or kiss her on the cheek etc. in front of other people, but otherwise Lana tries to keep somewhat “professional” while they’re at work. So when she starts climbing her like a tree, Rai knows she’s about to get some. XD

Do they have kids?

Kiiiinddd of? It’s complicated. Saarai has a son, Ty, from a previous relationship. Lana & Koth both sort of step up to help co-parent, but since Sith Purebloods age differently (i.e. they’re adults at ~20ish the same as humans, but after that they’re more like elves and their physical aging slows down, so they’re more long-lived), even though Ty’s very young by Pureblood standards, he’s still 60 years old, so he’s technically older than Lana and it’s kind of awkward for him to actually call her mom even if she kind of acts like one. He accidentally called her “mom” once, it was very awkward for both of them XD

What has been the most protective Lana has ever had of said kid?

I sat and scratched my head for ages trying to think of something to answer this question with, but I’m very sad to say that right now at the time of answering this meme, I don’t have any specific scenes planned out to tell you about! :( But rest assured that Lana absolutely would rush to help Ty if it was ever necessary :D

House pets? Is your Lana a dog person, or Cat person?

Funnily enough, they don’t actually have any pets! I’d like to think of Lana as more of a cat person than a dog person, in my personal opinion. But they have yet to get any pets of their own, maybeee later on, I dunno. Haven’t hit on any solid ideas for them yet, but I feel like if they happened upon a cute kitty they definitely could adopt one at some stage :’3

Do they get freaky on the Alliance Base or in the Shuttles?

They’ve done both, to be honest lol. Thankfully, Saarai’s sneaky enough that they haven’t gotten caught doing it, yet. Thank the Force.

Are their Sparring Matches Flirtatious? Hardcore?

They could go either way, it depends on what kind of mood they’re both in. If Lana’s particularly annoyed (usually not at Rai, but sometimes) then it’s more likely to be a hardcore spar, Rai’s a pretty tough cookie so she’ll often offer to be Lana’s punching bag in order to spare them some repair bills so she doesn’t rip apart the training dummies irrepairably, it’s okay, Rai can take it ;)

But if they’re both in an otherwise good mood and are just sparring for practise sakes, then yes, they often very quickly devolve into flirtacious banter and some of the classics, you know, “okay you win, you can let me go now” “mmm, nah” “I thought we were sparring” “do you want me to stop” “...don’t you dare.” etc. :’D

Class Specific things that play into their relationship?

Saarai’s a Juggernaut, and I headcanon Lana’s probably some sort of Sorcerer, so they tend to fight as such. They cover each other in more ways than one, if you want to get to Lana you have to go through Saarai first (and good luck to you, that woman can take and give a fucking beating lmao). Lana picks off whatever Saarai’s saber misses, usually with Force attacks but sometimes with her saber, too. Saarai takes bullets for Lana so Lana doesn’t have to get hurt. Lana yells at Rai for doing that and then fixes her up with Force healing afterwards, rinse and repeat. :’D

When they do argue, Lana tends to spontaneously manifest Force lightning, Saarai’s used to it and doesn’t bat an eyelid, she knows Lana’s not actually going to throw it at her and she’s more than prepared to dodge any stray bolts that do come her way.

Lana’s the tactician and the ground support, Saarai’s the battering ram/the bigass hammer used to clear space when Lana needs a bit of extra “oomph” (and trust me, they’re usually never far apart. The other one will be there and then you’ll be in trouble lmao)

Describe a time your OC went ‘Full beast mode’ to protect Lana, instead of the other way around?

"Kriff. Koth, what happened?” Three words was all it took, and everything made sense: “They hurt Lana.”

That scene in the Endless Swamps on Zakuul, just before they pull the Gravestone out of it and Lana and the Commander get ambushed. Saarai went with Lana & Koth to break Vano out of carbonite (since Saarai was still on Rishii at the time, she doesn’t get frozen, only Vano) so when they split up, Saarai goes with Koth to look for ship parts while Vano goes with Lana to look for water.

Lana and Vano get ambushed by the Knights/Skytroopers, and Lana’s hand gets busted. It takes Saarai and Koth a little while to rush over there to help them, but when they do

Saarai. Goes. Fucking. Feral. It’s the scariest she’s ever been in front of Lana and Lana will never forget it, they almost didn’t really need Senya’s help for that part, Saarai basically had it covered. I imagine Lana later described it as “kind of hot, but also kind of terrifying, actually”

Saarai’s considered Chaotic Good, so generally speaking if there’s a peaceful, non-violent solution to a problem, she’ll opt for that, but she has a few buttons that you just do not want to push, ever. And hurting her partners is one of those buttons. She will go apeshit and that’s exactly what happened in the swamp lmao

Little things couples do to annoy each other. What does Lana do? What does your OC do?

Saarai likes to wake up early and hide Lana’s kaf mug in increasingly ridiculous places. Once, she even got Koth to help her stick it to the top of the Gravestone’s hull. It took Lana half the morning to find it, Lana was not amused. XD

Saarai and Koth also have an ongoing “terrible puns” contest where they basically see who can annoy Lana with the most ridiculous puns possible, see this post for an example :P Lana wonders where/how they keep coming up with these puns, she really does.

Does Lana get jealous in your headcanon?

Not really! In Subterfugeverse, both Rai and Lana are polyam, so generally speaking, jealousy isn’t a problem for them, and when it is it’s more of a case of “hey. Hey. Hey, I’m not getting enough attention, pay attention to me.” and then it’s usually dealt with and all is well ;)

When Lana meets Anri, the only thing Saarai does is tease her about “when she’s going to make the move”. 😜

Story that is prominent in their relationship?

I was gonna draw a little doodle for this but the poses kept not coming out right so I gave up, sorryyy qAq

I haven’t gotten very far into planning the SoR onwards+ segments of Subterfugeverse, just bits and bobs like this, but I’d say for now the most prominent is probably their first meeting on Rishii. Basically, meet-cute but with a lightsaber involved too hahaha. There was a lot of posturing and flirty subtext right from the get-go with these two, even if Saarai was particularly suspicious at first (see the earlier question about her being technically dead to the Empire). At first, when she noticed Lana tailing Ty (because Lana was extremely confused about why a Pureblood was so far from Sith space ;)), Saarai assumed that something had happened to her twin and the Empire had A) found out she and Ty were still alive and B) Sent Lana to track them down and kill them for good. Several tension-loaded hours later and Lana managed to convince Rai that actually, Ni’kasi was fine and speaking of, she was trying to avoid being killed too so maybe, actually, they could help each other. And that was all she wrote <3

#swtor #lana romance meme #subterfugeverse #mildly n/sfw #swtor oc: saarai ahaszaai #ot3: sorry i ''stole'' your girlfriend #saarai/lana #since this is a lana meme i'm not gonna throw this in koth's tag but i will put it in their shipping tag for this blog #also yes lana/anri is going to be an eventual thing in subterfugeverse; even if i haven't worked out the specifics of *how* yet #because i'm sorry but there is *WAY* too much subtext in that lana/anri interaction and my dumbass polyam brain went ''hehehehehe :'3'' #so GODDAMN IT I AM GOING TO USE IT lol #bioware can pry this ship from my cold dead fingers #watch me i'll turn the alliance into one big fucking polycule if you let me /lh #some of these i haven't gotten to plan out solidly yet so i had to think on the spot #and as such the specifics might be subject to change as we *GET* to those parts in the actual fic ''canon'' #but for now here ya go ;D #long post

[vegalocity]

10/18 spicynoodles plis

Prompt meme || @deborahsworld

10.A Shy Kiss/18. Holding Hands

Hell yeah time for fluff

--

Okay... first date....Going pretty well so far. The Movie was okay—MK wasn't very big on horror movies even ones as old as this one was, but Red Son was really excited when he saw it was being played for a ‘foreign movies’ night at the movie theater and what, could have have argued against such enthusiasm?—if a bit slow going and atmospheric.

Though after the heroes found the monster frozen and seemingly dead in the abandoned Norwegian outpost, all twisted and malformed, he really hoped his appetite wouldn't be killed by the end of this with even worse when the monsters started actually moving.

And then the monsters actually started moving.

The dog turning into a monster and killing the other dogs hurt the animal lover inside him, and he felt a bit of his latent arachnophobia begin to rear its head when the hairy legs sprouted from its back, and then the actual form the monster, halfway through killing the remaining trapped dogs had sent a chill up his spine and then-

“See how they were able to make the monster look goopy? It's not really very goopy except during the close up shots, because it's an animatronic so it had to be dry most of the time, they got the shine effect by piling liquid latex ontop of the finished paintjob until it started drying while it trailed off of the frame. And that right there? When it took the hurt dog? That was actually filmed in reverse, having the tentacles start out around the dog puppet and then rapidly pull away so when they reversed it it looked like they actually moved and had torque behind the action.”

“Really?”

“Yeah it's really fascinating how they went about effects before computer graphics were refined, everything had to be practical so even if it doesn't look the best, it doesn't hit that uncanny valley that bad CGI makes because even if it doesn't look real it looks real enough.”

It didn't feel quite as disturbing with that rattling around in his head, focusing on how much work must have been done to make the monster move as realistically as possible, how many times they'd practiced and trained in a controlled sound stage and adapting it to the set...

They weren't the only ones in the theater, but it was a mostly empty showing, as was usually the case with foreign films as old as this one. So it wasn't like they were disturbing anyone with Red Son leaning over to whisper interesting details MK would have never even thought to look up to make the overall experience less scary. Red Son seemed aware that he wasn't the biggest horror fan, and was trying to soften the blows the more intense moments would bring by talking through them and bringing back  the reality that it was just a movie they were watching.

“I was alive in this era and I can state with general expertise that computers were certainly not that advanced yet. Computer AI wasn't past that of your average graphing calculator until at least the mid 1990's.”

“They got that sound effect by putting a microphone in a tin trash can and recording the sound of a racecar zooming by and put it in a reverb chamber until it sounded completely unrecognizable”

“Blair is already a Thing at this point, you remember when he was dissecting the Norwegian base's monster? He was using a pencil eraser to point out that era in its chest and then he'd touched the eraser to his lip! And since it started by probably just a small contingent of shed cells it probably took him longer to assimilate than the others.”

“This is actually really cool! The stunt double for Copper that they got for the scene actually was a double amputee! They made fake hands for him out of latex, filled them with fake blood, and styled the chest jaw like a bear trap for that disgusting pulling shot.”

Though... That one didn't work as well... When the long tendril shot from the Thing's stomach and sprouted slider legs and a second head, the extending neck hissing and glaring down at the heroes, he felt his gut turn, even as the heroes took the flamethrower to the monster.

The monster's first head ripped from its body and grew spider legs. And Oh GOD that was disgusting, without thinking he reached for the edge of the armrest to grip as the heroes had to play cat and mouse with a severed, spider head. He'd missed, and his hand clapped down atop of Red Son's and squeezed.

Red Son jolted beside him and MK saw him turn in his direction in his periphery.

“You know if this is freaking you out too much we can leave.”

“No! No, it's okay. You like this movie! You wouldn't know so much about it if you didn't like it!” Besides, he shouldn't be getting so spooked about some kinda gross kinda spidery horror movie from the 1980s, what kind of hero got freaked out at a little practical effects?

He couldn't see Red Son's face very well with only the light of the movie itself to see by, but he made a strange sort of humming noise and slipped his hand out of MK's, moving his arm to put the arm rest up and then slide his hand back into his own.

“Here, that should be more comfortable then.”

And it was. Red Son's factoids and chatter alongside the movie were doing well at cutting the edge off of it again, and it was aided by not just their connected hands, but now by his physical closeness as well.

“I've heard the director had this stylistic rule about after the Things start invading, the idea is that if a character has light reflecting off their eyes they're human, if not they're a Thing.”

“Most people think Palmers was the shadow the dog assimilated back earlier but I think it was Norris, Palmers didn't get turned into a thing until after they go and talk to Blair again I don't think.”

“Actually...I don't think I like that translation very much. Like yeah it's more polite and Gary's a gentleman, but 'I'd rather not spend the rest of this winter tied to this fucking couch' emphasizes the stress of the situation better.”

And then came the time of the final confrontation, MK braced himself, squeezed Red Son's hand in his own. It was indeed gross, and frightful, and the puppetry alone was REALLY good. All those moving parts and there's no way that THAT was an animatronic so it HAD to be a puppet. And wow that was a REALLY good explosion.

...huh...Apparently he could do it too.

The movie ended with what MK felt like was a tentatively optimistic note. The remaining two heroes sharing a drink as the research facility and the monsters it housed burned around them. And you maybe get the feeling the two of them won't survive the cold, but they stopped the monsters and that’s what matters.

Though MK was right to worry over the movie killing his apatite because by the time the lights went up and the credits rolled he found he wasn't very hungry. Which felt ridiculous since he was always in need of quick carbs for Monkie Kid things. But Red Son had lost his own apatite as well apparently and the two of them could do nothing but laugh a bit awkwardly at their date being derailed by a movie being a bit too gross.

So MK pulled him into a nearby park and they went for a walk instead of the restaurant they'd planned for.

“Most people think that Childs is a Thing and I'm tempted to agree, He doesn't have the eye shine but neither does MacReady and we know he's not a Thing, but MacReady's breath is steaming and Childs' doesn't until the very end there, and MacReady wasn't drinking, those were Molotov Cocktails, that was gasoline and Childs just downed it without a thought to taste or smell.”

“So you think the Thing won at the end?”

“I don't know, but they do have one flamethrower left and Childs whether he's a Thing or not just drank gasoline. So MacReady as a person is probably as good as dead.”

“I Dunno, I like the idea that he wasn't a Thing in the end, gives it something not dissimilar to a happy ending, but like, it's not like they hadn't been wrong about who was a Thing before. The dog handler wasn't a Thing but he got shot anyway.”

“That's very true.”

It was about there that MK realized he'd yet to let go of Red Son's hand.

Well... he hadn't pulled away... MK squeezed Red Son's hand in his own, and Red Son—on a tangent about how in the time before CGI they'd made the stylistic title card with use of a fishtank, garbage bag, flash paper and a lot of smoke—squeezed him back.

A few hours and a plate or two of street vendor food when either of their appetites returned later and Red Son had insisted on walking him home. He was staying in a penthouse that his family technically owned but he was the only one who actually knew about it, and he wanted to be a gentleman before he headed back there.

“Well,  I hope you enjoyed yourself a bit. I feel as though I should apologize for choosing such a niche film, mother always said I was the only one who cared about foreign horror movies and just because I find movie effects fascinating especially in a time before technology was as advanced as it is now doesn't mean I should subject others to my incessant yammering.”

he didn't really think Red Son could pull off shy, but he'd folded his arms tightly and was very pointedly NOT looking at him now. And Sure, this felt like a big step, but that playfully self deprecating tone wasn’t gonna fly here. He moved slowly, giving Red Son time to pull away if desired. Placing one hand on Red Son's shoulder, the other on the side of his face to turn his head. He had to get on his tiptoes to make it to his level, but he leaned in-

It was nice. Soft, and Red Son of course ran hotter than an average person so it was warm too. He pulled away just as he felt Red Son start to press back against him. When MK opened his eyes, he noticed Red Son's were still closed for a moment longer before fluttering open.

“I like your incessant yammering.” He had such a cute blush. “it means you're passionate about something.” 

“You... wanna come in? Monkey King gave me this new tea blend I've been meaning to try out.”

--

Prompt meme (I’ll stop when y’all stop sending stuff)

#Spicynoodleshipping #soff first date #Monkie Kid #MK Red Son #MK #letters to vega #Vega writes stories too #prompt meme #deborahsworld #The more times i write for Red Son the more I project hashtag autism moods #tfw u infodump on your date about an SI all night #and then SHCOK DELIGHT when you find out they think its charming

[planetesastraea]

On the tip of his fingers

Geraskier, Modern AU -  Mature - 6 277 words - Warnings: none

First meetings, himbo Geralt, bisexual Geralt (even if he’s just finding out), bottom Geralt (that too), top Jaskier, first time, handjobs, banter, praise kink, consent kink

Betaed by Micaela Dawn: she’s a wonderful artist and beta, check out her work!

Read on AO3

-

The bar was oddly crowded for a Wednesday night and Geralt was trying his best to not look as out of place as he felt. He had to be there, were Yen's words. And once Triss and Sabrina heard he was trying to get out of the team’s celebratory night out, his fate had been sealed.

"You deserve this too," Yen had said. “You’ve been working your ass off as much as we’ve all been and you deserve to blow off some steam.” 

“I can blow off some steam at home.”

“Playing Skittles-stake Gwent with our teenage daughter doesn’t count. Also you promised you’d spend more time with the team outside of  work-”

“I actually never agreed to that,” 

“-so you’re coming.” 

  And so here he was, wearing one of his black button down shirts and a comfortable pair of jeans with an empty beer bottle in his hand, making casual conversation over the slightly too-loud music and praying to the highest powers that the girls wouldn’t try to get him to dance. Triss and Yen had met him in front of the bar to make sure he wouldn’t turn away once he had a look inside the place. As soon as he had been close enough, Triss had reached a hand out to his collar, making a tsk sound. 

“What are we going to do with you, hm?”, she had whispered to herself as she had opened the top two buttons of his shirt and pulled his collar a little wider. 

“Hey, be gentle,” Yen had cut in softly. “At least he lost the tie.” 

They had cackled in unison as he rolled his eyes, yet unable to fake annoyance as a smile drew itself on his lips. With one of the women clinging to each of his arms, the three of them comfortably slid together as they walked into the place. 

He liked being around them. Over the years things had been several levels of complicated and then some, but the three of them had found their pace eventually. Triss and Yen liked to mock him and he liked to act dumber than he actually was- well, most of the time. His social skills still didn’t reach that high.

As it turned out, you could learn a lot about people by staying at the office several nights in a row working a gigantic case, taking turns on who would get to doze off for twelve minutes on the couch and who was to blame for the soy sauce on page 86 of the Claremont contract. And damn did Triss and Yen know him well. Which was why they had dutifully waited for him outside the bar. Claiming he looked for them but gave up because of how packed the place was would definitely have been among his top three excuses to go back home and relieve Eskel of his Uncle duties. (Both he and Ciri would have been terribly disappointed and that was about 75% of the reasons why he had made it to the party).

  They had been here for a couple of hours now, had done a good amount of talking and heard some more-than-other alright bands take to the stage. One of the junior associates further away from him called “Hey, here’s Sabrina!!” and Geralt turned towards the sound of Sabrina’s voice going “You guys are not going to believe this!” when something, or, well, someone, slammed right into him.

“Owww, holy shit I’m so sorry, you alright?” 

The man was carrying two pints that had probably been full to the brim before he collided with Geralt. Luckily most of what spilled had hit the floor (he didn't need a repeat of the 2017 "Wet-Shirt Contest Winner" from when a sink pipe had blown up in the men's room. Lambert had walked in, taken a thousand pictures and emailed memes to the whole floor for weeks). 

Geralt’s shoes had been fairly sticky with booze already so it wasn't much trouble. 

“I’m fine,” he said and that’s when he noticed the other man had come to a full stop, eyes locked on him intently, lips slightly parted. The eyeliner around his eyes was a bit smeared and Geralt recognized him as one of the singers from earlier. 

“That you are,” he murmured in a low tone, almost to himself. Geralt blinked.

“Yes. I am,” he said back louder in hope to maybe clear out the odd look on the other man’s face. Just because he was tall, well-built and, well, apparently, somewhat broody, people expected him to get pissed at the slightest things. 

“I’m Julian," the guy said and Geralt smiled politely, unsure why the stranger would introduce himself.

“Geralt,” he replied at the same time Julian went “But you can call me Jaskier!” and then “I’m sorry, what was that?” 

It was like his words were running faster than his thoughts.

“Geralt. My name is Geralt,” he repeated.

“Oh. Nice to meet you, Geralt.” Jaskier’s lips rose to one side and he tilted his head slightly. Geralt was way more used to people trying to avoid looking at him, he had his unusual colored eyes to thank for that. They were easily disturbing and while people didn't always show discomfort, they at least showed restraint. Jaskier didn't have an ounce of it and Geralt had absolutely no idea what to do with that. 

“Can I get you another drink?” Jaskier blurted out. 

“Mine was already empty. That’s your drink on the floor,” Geralt replied as the other man chuckled, eyes looking down briefly.

“Right,” he raised his eyes and licked his lips. “Offer still stands. Can I get you another drink?”

“Hm,” Geralt said, his well-known wording skills kicking in. “My friends are-” he turned around thinking he’d find Anica and Tiff where he had left them only to realise they had disappeared among the crowd. In the far back he recognized Triss and Yen dancing on a table like nothing in the world could stop them and any back-up plan he was about to use evaporated. 

Jaskier raised his eyebrows, eyes twinkling. Give other people a chance, Yen’s voice said in Geralt's head and the line of his shoulders softened. Jaskier’s eyes hadn’t moved from him for even a second. Maybe it wasn’t that bad. 

“Sure,” Geralt aimed for a neutral tone but sounded nervous even to his own ears. The other man’s smile widened. 

  They found two empty stools that felt oddly closer than those in Geralt’s bars usually were - but then again most of Geralt’s bars were hotel lobbies on work trips or the kind where he could take a whole bottle for himself and sit in a corner where no one would dare bother him. (He hadn't been in one of those in a while. He didn’t miss it.)

Jaskier set an ale in front of him and Geralt faintly wondered who it was originally destined for. 

“So what are you doing here tonight? I’ve never seen you around,” Jaskier started. 

“Celebrating,” he said, in a voice that hardly sounded celebratory. 

“Is it your birthday?”

“No,” he replied, vaguely gesturing to his group of friends who were lost to the crowd, “with colleagues. We closed in on a deal." 

"What kind of business do you work in?" The other man seemed way more interested in learning about Geralt than actually drinking the ale. Geralt shrugged, a wordless version of his usual ‘hm’.  

“All of them. We're a law firm.”

“Oh! Well, congrats by the way!" Jaskier said and then leaned in and using a secretive tone he added, "I mean, you didn’t help a dangerous criminal get away with it, did you?”

Geralt grimaced and prepared himself to lose Jaskier’s interest in his job entirely. 

“Not that kind of lawyers.” 

“What kind, then?” 

“Corporate.”

To his surprise, Jaskier kept nodding.

“So what was the deal about? Please tell me you’re the kind of firm on David’s side and not on Goliath's.”

“It’s rarely as straightforward as that,” Geralt mused and took a drink of his ale.

Jaskier hummed softly.

“What was this one anyway?” 

“I can’t disclose any details,” he hedged and Jaskier chuckled. 

“Oh, you can’t disclose any details, can you?” he leaned again, this time his arm and shoulder pressing against Geralt's. 

“No, I can’t,” Geralt articulated again to make sure Jaskier would hear him. Music rarely ever left anyone’s hearing intact after a few years, maybe that was why the man kept leaning closer. 

“Anything I’ll hear about on the news?”

“The local ones, maybe.”

“Well aren't you a man of mystery.” Their shoulders bumped again. Geralt didn't remember at which point he had rolled up his sleeves but his forearms felt oddly comfortable being that close to someone else's skin. It had been a while since he had even given thought to someone else's skin.

There was still a band playing on the stage out of his sight, a crowd surrounding them, people all along the bar calling for the bartender’s attention, noises and lights everywhere and yet, somehow, in the ocean of stimuli, his attention was focused on Jaskier.

"Maybe I should take your number then?" Jaskier said, wriggling an eyebrow. "As legal counsel. For when law enforcement catches up with me." 

“What would they catch you for?” he asked, willing to take the bait. 

“Oh, there’s quite the list,” Jaskier said. “I’m afraid I have a rather criminal past. There’s the illegal bus riding, parking in client-only spots,” he counted on his fingers, adding each theatrically. “I once shook a vending machine to get my chocolate bar and got a second one I didn’t pay for.”

“Hmm. I think you might get away with those,” Geralt answered, taking a drink from his pint.

“Well I guess all is left is the case of indecent exposure.”

The man had a nonchalant demeanor about him but his eyes were focused on Geralt and definitely didn't miss the way he almost choked on the ale. Geralt only then realised how much of Jaskier’s chest was visible. He registered vaguely how he’d never had an interest in other people’s collar bones before and realised he had forgotten where they were going with this. 

"Hmm,” he cleared his throat, trying to look unbothered. “Like I said, not my area of expertise."

He saw Jaskier lick his lips and something in his eyes reminded him of the decisive moment that came with all his negotiations. 

"How about we get out of here and you show me your area of expertise?" 

"What?" He couldn’t have heard that right. Jaskier’s eyes softened and his hand hovered over his bare forearm.

"I'm saying I want to take you home.” There was a beat and Geralt swallowed, the taste of ale still on his lips. His conversations with other people definitely didn’t go like that. The peak of panic might have been obvious on his face because Jaskier’s fingers touched his wrist and he spoke into his ear.  "I'm making a move on you, Geralt,” he said kindly, “and I don’t know if you’re too polite to decline or if I’m being too subtle-” he pulled back to look at him and his face was so fucking close. “Which, honestly, would be a first! So... What do you think?” 

What did he think? His mind was an uninhabited fish tank. Out of the corner of his eye, he thought he saw a light flicker. He blinked again, looking at Jaskier’s lips. His brain whispered pretty, and right then, because life always loved fucking with him, the lights and the music went out.

There was a deafening silence for a moment when everyone held their breath and then lights as bright as day came on. The crowd booed. "Oh for fuck's sake, it's the third time this month," Jaskier grumbled. “Sorry my dear but duty calls!” 

He stepped down from his stool only to hoist himself up onto the bar. "Not to worry, gentlepeople!" he called out like he was standing on a stage rather than a drink-sticky counter. "The lights will go down and the music back on again as soon as our beloved Essi, Mistress of the house, puts that freaking generator back on! And in the meantime, if you would please allow this humble bard to entertain you,” he took a dramatic bow and rose up again. “Someone please toss me a folk guitar; drinks are on me!"

The crowd cheered and Jaskier got down behind the bar as one of the crew members passed over the guitar. He went off in a cheery song some people started singing along to, bathing in the crowd's energy like he breathed that very element. 

Something funny and complicated was happening in Geralt's chest when a hand gently grabbed his arm.

"Come on, let's go!" Yen. "It was getting boring anyway!"

Geralt squinted at her.

"You were dancing on a table,"

"Yeah, exactly!" 

It didn’t make the slightest sense but most of his conversations with Yen ended with her radiating with knowledge and him feeling stupid anyway.

"I was talking with someone," he said and instantly felt like a small child very proud to say he made a friend.

"You were what?" her voice pitched up and Geralt could tell she was a bit on the tipsy side. "Where are they?" 

He looked around and back towards the other side of the bar where Jaskier was singing and playing among the crowd, flawlessly winking and flirting with every person around.

"You're right,” his voice sounded strained even to his own ears and he had to blame it on the sleepless nights. “Let's go."

  -

  It had been two weeks since they had secured the Jackdows contract and Geralt was still deep in paperwork. He'd taken yet another two-hour video call with Alveaenerle and he was starting to think that maybe Triss was right and the woman was mostly dealing with him for his looks rather than for the sake of legal liaison. 

He heard the elevator doors open and checked the clock. It wouldn’t be the first time he had worked through the whole night, only noticing at 4am when the janitor came in that he had forgotten to go home. Since then, he had promised Ciri he would try to get decent amounts of sleep while she was away at Yen’s and he didn’t like breaking his promises. 

When he looked through the glass wall of his shared office, however, he didn’t see the janitor. Instead, and he checked twice in case it might have been a case of insomnia-induced hallucination, Jaskier was standing in the hall. He seemed hesitant, looking right and left for any indication that he was in the right place until he saw Geralt through the office’s glass walls. 

They blinked at each other, seemingly unable to move until Jaskier slowly raised a hand and waved. Geralt kicked himself and walked out of his office. 

“Hey,” Jaskier said, looking a bit sheepish. "Remember me?"

“What are you doing here?” Geralt asked, straightforward as ever.

“Uh,” Jaskier said. “The security guy let me in. He must have thought I was a delivery boy or something. I uh, I got your favourite,” he raised a hand holding a paper bag that Geralt had been too distracted to notice. “From across the street? Oh! Your friend Tiff was at the bar. She said you were still at work so I thought you’d like to have dinner maybe? And like, not with me, necessarily, just, you gotta eat right?” His words were starting to run together, and Geralt didn’t see any end in sight. “And so I figured, the place across the street, they had to know your favourite. ‘Big lawyer man with long white hair’ doesn't fit many of their clients' profiles. Anyway, dinner. For you. I could stay too, if you want, I mean I am simply starving-” he emphasized the word and then looked panicked again. “Wait, was that a yes, by the way? You know who I am, right? Otherwise this is going to get so awkward-”

“Jaskier,” Geralt interrupted.

“Yes!" He beamed. "That's me. Jaskier."

“I’m still not sure what you’re doing here.”

Jaskier froze for a moment, losing his shine. “We didn’t get to finish that conversation the other night. I thought that maybe...” Balancing his weight from a feet to another, he looked younger in the office light. He didn't finish his sentence, and looked like he was waiting for Geralt to respond.

“I’m working.”

“Right.”

“I’m at work,” Geralt gestured back at his office.

“Yeah, I know, I just thought- I- You're right, this was a stupid idea. Invasive, even. God what am I doing-” he took a frantic step backwards, and then thrust out the paper bag in some sort of peace offering. “Well, you should have this anyway, I mean- you have to eat, right? I said that already. Did I say that already?” He put the paper bag down on the closest cubicle desk then started walking backwards. “Sorry for,” he gestured vaguely, “showing up like that. Uh. It won’t happen again.” 

Jaskier turned around, starting towards the elevators with his hand rubbing the back of his neck, and Geralt thought he heard him swearing under his breath something that sounded very much like ‘such a fucking idiot’.

An uneasy feeling filled Geralt’s chest as he watched Jaskier walk away. He didn’t know what he was doing and he didn’t know what he wanted or why he wanted anything but he knew he didn't want this.

“Jaskier,” he called and felt so very glad no one else was working late on his floor. 

“Yeah?” Jaskier turned back instantly, his face lit up by a beacon of hope.

“Do you… Do you do this often?” he asked hesitantly and felt stupid about it as soon as he heard himself. There was a beat of Jaskier looking around at the empty place before he walked back towards Geralt slowly.

“Chasing down a guy I talked to for thirty minutes because I just can’t fucking stop thinking about him? No. No, I don’t. First time, actually.”

Geralt watched the musician, noting the soft, hopeful smile forming at the corner of his lips, the closing and opening of his hands at his sides, and the way the office light was reflecting in Jaskier’s eyes. 

“Twenty minutes? I need to wrap something up. Then I’m free. For dinner.” Geralt amended.

Jaskier let go of the breath he had been holding and a full smile slowly graced his face again.

“Sure. Take your time. We can heat up the food at my place.”

If twenty minutes had been a promise, Geralt would have broken it. Ten minutes later, he was done with work for the day and on his way to Jaskier’s.

  -

  “So which one are you?" Jaskier asked, leaning over his kitchen counter after discarding the take-away wrappings. "VGB or Morhen?” 

“Neither,”

“Oh. I thought you were.”

“Disappointed?”

Jaskier chuckled. “No. Well, a bit, I mean," he raised a shoulder lazily and faked disappointment, "I thought you were one of those big-shot lawyers.”

“I am. I’m just not a name partner.” 

"So you're a regular partner then?"

“Just barely." 

"Is that a thing?"

"Hmm." Geralt took a whole second to think about it and found himself oddly relaxed with answering the question. “I have a daughter.”

“Oh.” Jaskier’s voice was oddly tight. 

“Yen and I have a deal. She leads the boat on the job side, excels and enjoys herself in the career she’s always wanted and worked so hard for. I pull the hours she needs me to but our focus is our daughter.”

“You and Yen.”

“Yes.”

"Wait, like Triss's dancing on tables Yenna?" Jaskier’s eyes were widening in realisation. 

"Yes."

"Is she Morhen?"

Geralt shook his head. "Vengerberg." 

"And she’s your ex."

"Yes."

“Are you still-”

“Friends, yes.”

Jaskier nodded slowly and seemed to be thinking about something. He put his glass away and leaned against the counter, closer to Geralt. “Do you know what you’re doing here, Geralt?” he asked so low it was almost a whisper. 

Geralt couldn’t help but cast a look at his lips. “Not really.”

Jaskier slowly slipped his hand up Geralt’s forearm and the hair at the back of his neck rose.

“I was thinking maybe I could kiss you. Can I kiss you?”

Geralt found himself suddenly very much too out of breath to answer.

"Geralt?"

"Yes."

"Yes, as in you're still with me or yes-"

"Both." Geralt interrupted before he had the chance to change his mind. 

Jaskier looked surprised for a second then stood up on his toes to close the small space that was left between them. He pressed his lips against Geralt's; chaste and dry and sweet. When was the last time Geralt had been kissed like that? With care?

Jaskier's lips moved with his and Geralt felt the tip of the other man’s tongue against his lower lip, asking for permission. He granted it without question.

"Geralt?"

Geralt kissed him again and couldn't help the sigh that escaped when Jaskier's teeth grazed against his lips. 

"Hmm?"

They shared another kiss.

"Couch?"

And another.

"Sure."

  They parted only for the short time it took Jaskier to walk around the kitchen island. He led Geralt to the couch, pushing him slightly backwards to make the man sit so he could straddle his lap. Jaskier’s hips were thinner than those of Geralt’s usual partners. His shoulders were larger, his back more muscled, his arms- his whole body was fucking delightful and yet so very different, so very new. 

"Jask?" 

A kiss.

"Yeah?" It was more of a sigh of pleasure against his lips than a whisper.

"Remember when you asked-" Fuck, it was good. "About my-" 

"Sorry, do you need me to stop?"

Something rumbled in Geralt’s chest, his voice almost a growl. 

"No."

His hand found the back of Jaskier's neck and they sort of crashed again into each other. They kissed and kissed again and Geralt just didn't want to stop but things had to be said.

"Expertise," he finally managed.

"What?" Jaskier let go of his mouth and came back again for a peck before he sat back on his ankles to look at Geralt. His lips were red, his hair in disarray, his hand still hot on the side of Geralt’s neck. Geralt was fucked.

"Expertise," Geralt said, sitting up a bit straighter, settling his hands on Jaskier’s hips. "The other night. You asked about my area of expertise."

"Uh. Right."

Jaskier had a look on his face like someone had just interrupted his hot make-out session to talk about corporate law. Geralt would know, that had happened to him more times than he would admit.

"This isn't it."

"What?" Jaskier looked bewildered. His face was an open book of unguarded emotions and it made Geralt want to kiss him even more. 

"My area of expertise. This isn’t it."

"Oh." Jaskier answered, distracted by a strand of hair that fell over Geralt's eyes. He plucked the strand up between deft fingers and tucked it behind Geralt’s ear. Then he blinked and backtracked. "Wait, kissing?"

"Men," Geralt said. "Men aren't my areas of expertise."

"Oh,” Jaskier said. His hand was suspended in the air behind Geralt’s ear. “Okay, you- Oh. Okay.” he whispered again, his hand dropping down to Geralt’s shoulder. 

Geralt wasn't sure why Jaskier was the one blushing.

Sexual orientation had never really been a topic of conversation for Geralt growing up. Emotions were already a complex enough subject to tackle, anything that went further than caring for his brothers was not recommended. Exploration was limited. As a young man, he had gone for what society told him were the easiest ways to get sexual release when he needed it (women) and then his life tangled with Yen's and other partners faded out from the realm of his interests. When Ciri had entered their life, his very own life had taken a whole new meaning. There was little that mattered except making his daughter happy. His own personal relationships were more of an afterthought. 

"Well," Jaskier started again. "We don't have to- I mean it's okay. It's good. It's all good, darling. Do you- Do you need a breather? Do you- do you even want to be here?"

"I followed you willingly, didn't I?" Geralt asked, raising an eyebrow. Jaskier chuckled.

“It’s just- What if I mess up and deter you from ever enjoying another penis ever again?" he exaggerated, the dramatic flair evident in every line of his body. Geralt snorted.

"Hey! I have a duty to the penis community and I take it very seriously," Jaskier continued as if Geralt hadn’t brushed the thought off.

"The penis community," Geralt repeated, fake awe dripping in his voice.

"The penis kingdom, actually."

"The penis continent." Geraly offered, helpfully.

"Oh, that reminds me, talking about dicks: Nilfgaard, yay or nay?"

"Argh, shut up," he grabbed Jaskier's face unceremoniously and Jaskier laughed in the kiss. His hand brushed Geralt’s cheek and everything about him seemed to slow down. Jaskier broke apart from him, a smile still on his lips, and looked at Geralt steadily like any doubt and hesitation were forgotten.

"Just tell me what you like, darling,” he said. 

"I like kissing you.” 

"That’s a good start," he replied and granted Geralt’s request.

Jaskier lay his hands on Geralt’s shoulders and the muscles melted under the soft weight of them. He raised onto his knees and pushed Geralt back into the couch. Jaskier was slightly taller kneeling over him, and Geralt found something delightful in having to look up at someone. 

Jaskier leaned in and caught Geralt��s lips between his. His kisses were softer, slower, deeper than a minute before. Like he was taking his time to enjoy every second, to make Geralt enjoy every second. One of Geralt’s hands moved from his hip to his lower back, inviting him closer, and Jaskier slid his hands around Geralt’s neck, arching slightly into the touch. There was an intimacy about it that Geralt hadn’t expected nor experienced in a long time. 

Jaskier pressed his forehead against his at every breath, his hands caressing Geralt’s cheeks, sliding into Geralt’s hair, slowly making him shiver. 

Jaskier’s arms were distracting. The shirt he’d been wearing on that evening at the bar hadn't given away any clue as to the gems that were hidden underneath those sleeves. There was something feral lying deep in Geralt’s belly that was definitely ready to be manhandled.

Geralt found himself sliding his hand under Jaskier’s shirt, feeling the hot skin under his fingers, tracing the muscles along his spine. 

Jaskier quickly got the message and took his shirt off between breathless kisses. He started tugging at the buttons of Geralt's shirt while Geralt’s hands made themselves at home on every inch of skin they could find. He felt goosebumps form on Jaskier’s skin and used the distraction to start laying kisses on his neck, licking and sucking the skin and taking note of the softest noises Jaskier made. The tip of his fingers slid down the hairs of Jaskier’s chest as he nibbled the man’s collarbone, and found one of his nipples on the way. Geralt caressed it tentatively and felt the shiver that went through Jaskier’s whole body when he did. Jaskier’s fingers pulled abruptly at his shirt. 

“Oh god, take your goddamn shirt off, please!” The request was more of a thready gasp than an actual sentence. Geralt laughed at his enthusiasm and finished unbuttoning his shirt. 

“Is this okay?” Jaskier asked as he slid the shirt off Geralt’s shoulders. Geralt hummed approvingly and raised his arms when Jaskier grabbed his undershirt. They kept kissing until he felt Jaskier’s hands slowing down, tensing slightly against his chest until they were barely just touching him. He saw the look on Jaskier’s face when he parted from him and realised why he had stopped. Jaskier’s eyes were fixated on his torso, fingers hovering over one of his many scars. 

“I can put the shirt back on if you want,” he offered and Jaskier’s eyes jumped back to his face.

“What? No, darling, no,” he rushed and grabbed Geralt’s face kindly, kissing him again. “I was just surprised. Is this okay? Can I- can I touch you?”

“Yeah. Of course you can,” he kissed Jaskier softly. “They haven’t hurt in a long time.” 

“Can I ask- I know this isn’t the best of times but-" he bit his lip with hesitation. "Did someone do this to you?” 

“Not one person in particular,” Geralt shrugged it off.

“Geralt,” Jaskier’s brow furrowed. 

“Don’t worry about it,” he brushed his nose against Jaskier’s. “It’s in the past.” 

"Okay," Jaskier whispered and then, trying to lighten the mood he added, "was it, like, your secret service past?"

"I am not at liberty to say."

Jaskier snorted.

“Just tell me you’re not in a fight club.”

“In a what?” Geralt asked, frowning. 

“A fight club.”

“I don’t know what that is,” he said, seemingly clueless. 

“You know, a fi- oh, you ass!” Jaskier yelped, slapping him lightly on the pec and Geralt laughed, grabbing the back of Jaskier's thighs right below his bottom to make him slip even further into his lap.

“How would you like to take care of my ass?” 

Jaskier almost choked on his own breath and turned an even deeper shade of red.

"Are you- do you mean literally?"

"I'm not a blushing virgin, Jaskier,” Geralt said matter-of-factly. 

"I know, I just mean- well if you've never- I mean are you sure you want to? With me?"

It was a sensible question but Geralt didn't want to think about it for too long. Thinking would mean trying to make sense of things -feelings, desires. It would lead to labelling and wanting to belong and- he just hated words. Words had a tendency to make things real and unmovable. Actions were so, so much better.

"You're the one who knows what he's doing, here,” Geralt said. “I'd rather it be you doing the work."

"Uh," Jaskier said thoughtfully. He probably had a PhD in literature or something based on the improbable number of books and manuscripts lying around in his flat. Geralt had even seen a couple ones in the cereal cupboard which was apparently where Jaskier’s glasses went.

"Alright then. Just. Tell me if something is not working for you, alright?"

"I will. Now can we get back to business?"

"To defeat-"

"If you start singing right now I am getting out of here," he grabbed a handful of the musician’s ass.

"Oi!!" Jaskier complained in the fakest way possible. "Wait, hold on, does that mean you've seen Disney movies- what's your favourite one?"

Geralt raised yet another very serious eyebrow. 

"Do you often discuss topics that make people think about their kids when they're trying to bed you-"

"Oh my god! I'm so sorry," Jaskier laughed and hid his face in Geralt's neck, full of shame. "How much do you hate me right now?" he muffled.

"Hmm," Geralt pondered, slowly sliding his fingers up Jaskier's spine. "You should probably find a way to make me forget about it."

"Hmm," Jaskier imitated, kissing the side of Geralt's neck and slowly making his way up to the man’s ear. "What if I took your pants off?" he whispered.

"Could be a start," Geralt admitted. 

"What if we moved to my bed?"

"I was beginning to wonder if you had one of those."

"I can still fuck you over the kitchen counter if you're disappointed."

Geralt’s pupils dilated as he pictured himself bent over the piece of furniture, holding onto whatever he could while Jaskier pounded him restlessly. 

"Bed. Now." 

  -

  Geralt only got a quick look at the room (more books, more notebooks, cord instruments of all sorts and sizes) before Jaskier grabbed him by the belt and pushed him onto the bed. He followed quickly, straddling him and kissing him senseless until Geralt’s head hit the mattress. 

"Can I t-" Jaskier started and Geralt tried to sit up, cutting him off with a kiss. He reached for his own belt, planning on taking his trousers off before Jaskier pressed against his shoulders and made him lie down again. He slid his fingers between Geralt’s, caressing his knuckles softly. 

"Oh please, give me the honor."

Geralt almost growled with impatience and reached a hand out between Jaskier's legs, palming him through his jeans.

"Oh sweet Edith Eleanor Diana Poulton, you are not playing."

He got Geralt’s belt out of the way and undid his trousers. Geralt’s underwear followed halfway when Jaskier took the trousers off, leaving his ass bare on the sheets and the hem of his briefs so low on his hips it was practically at the base of his cock. He tried taking his briefs off entirely, feeling silly and oddly vulnerable being halfway undressed but Jaskier batted his hands off and kissed him again. He slid a hand through Geralt’s pubic hair and slowly, incredibly slowly, down, and after what felt like a thousand years, finally closed his hand around Geralt’s cock and pulled. 

Geralt pushed the back of his head into the mattress and closed his eyes as if he was at risk of losing sight if he left them open. Jaskier kissed him through the first moan of pleasure and quickly was all over him. Jaskier was kissing and licking and touching and stroking and Geralt was having quite a hard time trying to do much more than let his hand grab onto Jaskier’s hair and do his best not to sound too desperate. He was absolutely failing. 

“Is this good, darling?” Jaskier whispered, kissing his neck up to his jaw and softly biting the skin there as his hand kept stroking him. 

"Hmm," was all Geralt could manage and he felt Jaskier smile against his skin.

"Tell me?"

"Ah,” Geralt’s hands were moving somewhat erratically, trying to hold onto any part of Jaskier that would make him feel anchored and not as if he was going to lose his mind before he got the man’s socks off. “Yes."

"You're so good darling,” Jaskier’s kindness, Geralt vaguely decided, was fucking obscene. “You're doing so good."

Geralt felt himself blush, having no idea how any blood could flow to his face since he was pretty sure all of it was rushing to his dick. He wasn't going to last long at this rate.

"I want- I want to touch you too."

Jaskier let him open his jeans and moaned into his mouth when Geralt finally got his hand into his underwear. 

“Jaskier,” he warned and Jaskier slowed down the working of his own hands. 

“You alright, love?” he whispered, voice broken with pleasure. 

Instead of an answer, Geralt sat up and pulled Jaskier's trousers to get his point across. Jaskier took his hands off him - the loss was fucking unbearable - to finally get rid of all remaining items of clothing and pressed himself against Geralt again, his hand on his neck. Geralt immediately got his arms around his middle to cradle him closer. Jaskier rocked slightly against him, their cocks pressing against each other and Geralt couldn't help but get a hand on both of them.

"Show me?" he croaked hoarsely and silently prayed that Jaskier wouldn’t make him beg for it because he definitely would. Instead Jaskier joined their hands together and guided him, pressing on Geralt's fingers to make him hold his cock tighter, moaning when Geralt's wrist angled exactly how he liked it.

"Oh god, yes. You're so good to me, love," he moaned. 

It felt like forever and it felt like a blink. They rocked and they kissed and they moaned and Jaskier kept breathing sweet nonsense into his neck, praises into his ear, about how good he was and how good he felt and how well Jaskier would take care of him and how much he wanted to make him moan through the night but in the end, what got him over the edge was Jaskier digging his fingers onto the soft flesh of his ass, sliding in to brush against Geralt’s hole, and absolutely, definitely had nothing to do with Jaskier crying out, “Oh love, you’re beautiful!”

Geralt lost a few seconds or maybe a minute or five over which Jaskier had apparently come all over his stomach too. Jaskier was catching his breath, lying with his forehead against Geralt’s chest, trying his best not to lay all his weight over him. Geralt found the back of Jaskier’s neck, his fingers going up through his hair and drawing a comfortable groan from him. 

“Sorry,” he mumbled, pushing on his arm to lie a few centimeters away, his head propped over Geralt’s shoulder, their legs still intertwined together. Jaskier’s arm stretched over Geralt’s middle and the tingly waves of left-over pleasure washed over them both with every breath, content tiredness slowly taking over. 

A few minutes later Geralt extracted himself from Jaskier’s grasp, not without some difficulty, and convinced himself to clean up. Washing his hands in front of the bathroom mirror, Geralt looked back at Jaskier’s face hovering over his shoulder as Jaskier pressed his chest against his back. Eyes closed, Jaskier asked: “D’you want to stay?”

Vaguely wondering about the last time he felt as comfortable as this with someone and then pushing the thought away, Geralt’s eyes lowered, looking at Jaskier’s arms settled around his body. 

He felt Jaskier’s lips move into a loopy smile against his skin when he answered:

“Hmm.”

#geraskier #geraskier fic #the witcher #geralt of rivia #jaskier #my writing #no warnings #geralt of rivia is a little dense and jaskier is very very pretty #mine: geraskier #mine: no warning #mine: himbo geralt #mine: modern au #mine: mature #mine: of fingers tongues and toes series