#WHY DID YOU MAKE ME HATE CERTAIN TEXTURES AND BAD WITH EYE CONTACT??? WHAT THE FUCK

[slocumjoe]

I know a lot of people like the "all synths are autistic" thing and i understand, but the idea that they intentionally made Danse like that is so fucking funny to me, and the idea that X6-88 just ended up like that is even fucking funnier

#danse gets diagnosed somehow and has a fucking fit #YOU COULD HAVE MADE ME A PERFECT SPECIMEN #WHY DID YOU MAKE ME HATE CERTAIN TEXTURES AND BAD WITH EYE CONTACT??? WHAT THE FUCK #I COULD HAVE BEEN A FUNCTIONAL ADULT BUT NO. NO. INSTEAD I SAY WEIRD SHIT AND CANT TALK TO PEOPLE #meanwhile x6 gets diagnosed and is like yes? and? #call it whatever you want. you wish you were me #a perfect specimen. flawless in every way #perhaps they should make more synths like danse and i #(danse losing his last marble in the background) #fallout 4 #fo4 #paladin danse #X6-88

[snowieluna]

So we finished Attorney Woo last night, and wow. It's got me reflecting back on when I worried I might be on the spectrum. Honestly, I don't know if I am neurodivergent in some way. I was thinking for a while it might be ADHD. There are a lot of things that click for both. I wonder if there's some other third option. There are a lot of little things that I've been used to for so long.

I've always been horrible with eye contact. Dad used to complain that it looked like I wasn't paying attention or didn't care.

My reaction time is terrible. There have been times something's spilled and I'm like stuck where I can't move until someone gets angry. Also why I hate team sports.

I feel like I'm always in the way.

I'm terrible with weird food textures. If it's too chewy, I feel like I'll choke and I get anxious. It's what made me not like steak in the past because Mom overcooks it. Mushrooms feel wrong and not like food.

I used to freak if my food was touching, but I've calmed down with that a lot. Same with making food a certain way. Like only circle pickle slices could go on burgers, and they preferably have to be in a flower shape so they take up the most surface area. Long pickles go on sandwiches. Any spread that goes on bread has to cover the whole piece, edge to edge. I can't do sesame seeds on bread. I rip off the crust or pick them off. Tea needs just enough milk so the colour lightens. Cereal needs to enough to be wet - a thin layer at the bottom of the bowl. I can't do pulpy drinks or strawberry ice cream. The frozen seedy chunks are gross. Same for chia or if a powdered drink hasn't completely dissolved.

I'm bad with processing my emotions or understanding what I'm feeling. When I was younger, it was easier to just say I was neutral because also! It's hard to know if I'm feeling the correct emotion. Like what do you want me to be feeling right now? Is it too much or too little? I get overly invested in fictional characters more than real people. I cry so easily.

If I'm feeling too much, it's like I go numb and shut down. I used to hurt myself more when I was overwhelmed. When I was younger, I'd hit my head against my wall because I was upset but felt unallowed or unable to express it. In arguments with JM over something I did wrong again, I'd start to feel like I was floating above my body and that'd worry me. So then I'd press my fingers hard into the edge of my keys, or my nails into my hand, or I'd pick at skin imperfections. Now I'm realizing I was trying to ground myself, but back then, he just thought I was hurting myself, and that made him more upset, which made me feel worse. I'd try to focus on what he was saying, but it would be on small details that I felt I could process, but I was still wrong because I wasn't seeing the whole picture to him. (I still do this when I'm super upset/overwhelmed/whatever.) I wouldn't remember after what either of us had said, only that we were both upset and that it was probably my fault.

I used to hold my breath unintentionally while crying. I think trying to hold back the sounds, but it'd feel like pressure was building.

I can't focus much on stuff I don't care about. I feel like I was only good at school when I was younger because I was a perfectionist and needed good grades. Parents didn't even put that much pressure on me, but once I was doing well, it feels like that's the norm, so I have to uphold that standard. I could memorize enough for tests, but unless it was about specific things I liked, poof it's gone. Do well on tests, be quiet but also social. But not too social! Follow the rules. Be well behaved. Try to be good to make up for the fact that I'm not charismatic or athletic.

I'm really bad at multitasking or doing things in a way that doesn't seem logical. At the lab, I'd get mad because I had a plan for that day. I was going to get x done, but now they want this from me instead. Or I'd have a bunch of samples ready to go with a certain mobile phase. Then a day later, get another that could've gone with the first batch. So I have to wait until I have enough to test together, or it feels wrong. If I'm cleaning at home and in the right mood, I need to get as much done as I can before the energy's gone.

Which leads to me not eating consistently. Because if I'm in the middle of something, I don't want to stop. I'll eat later. Yeah my stomach feels so empty, but I gotta finish. Yeah my meds alarm went off, but I'll just take them later. Gotta keep going before I get distracted and lazy.

I'm not great with time management. I don't know how long I'm going to take unless I break it down. And even then I sometimes underestimate because I feel like I'd be keeping people waiting too long, or just because I need more sleep. Then I space out or stuff comes up, and oh I'm late now. Or I get overly anxious about being late that I'm way too early, or can't focus on anything else but being on time.

Sleeping early has always been hard. I'm convinced part of why I was so depressed in middle school was from sleep deprivation. I couldn't sleep until midnight-ish, then be up by 5:45am/6am. At night, I wouldn't have enough time to decompress in between homework, eating, showering, and planning for the next day. When I got to college and could take afternoon classes, it was such a relief. But the change in environment was it's own form of stress.

I guess this whole rant started was because I saw a post on how Young-woo struggled with the revolving door potentially due to vestibular and propioception issues. It got me thinking of when I go down stairs and it feels like I'm going to miss one and fall. (Plus the anxiety of potentially being embarrassed or hurt if I fell. And the anxiety of I'm backing up traffic and look like an idiot who can't use stairs.) Or the dizzy feeling when I've tried VR or watched 3D movies. Like I need to hold onto something for dear life. How I hate the dropping feeling in my stomach on big bumps in the road or on roller-coasters. (I had an anxiety attack on the last big one I tried. I thought I was going to die.) Trying to visualize a car in the center of the lane has thrown me off so much, so I'm still scared of driving. (Even though I want to try again this year. I'm super scared of trying to park.) I can't ride a bike or rollerblade because I couldn't get the hang of balancing and moving at the same time. (And more of the embarrassment of falling and not getting it right away.)

I can't swim because the idea of water getting in my eyes, nose, ears, or mouth makes me panicky. But goggles, ear and nose plugs feel uncomfortable. The goggles get blurry and I can't see. The nose plug hurts my nose. Ear plugs I can deal with even though they make my breathing and heart beat sound super loud.

Senses are weird. I can't do super bright lights or loud sounds. The sounds if I'm not ready make me feel like I'm drowning. (But weirdly enough, if I'm particularly moved by music, I can feel like I'm drowning, but in a good way. I guess it's like a firm hug as opposed to a crushing squeeze?) Smells don't bother me too much unless it's fish. It can make me nauseous. If a room is too hot and the humidity is off, I feel like I can't breathe. It feels like my nose is stuffed with cotton or like I'm breathing through a straw, and it scares me. I love hugs because they feel safe. My hair being played with is so nice (or pulled if in a spicy setting. Same for spanks.) I like holding hands, but mine get so sweaty. I love dancing when I don't have to think. I love feeling textures on skin, except sometimes I pick without meaning to.

I've run out of steam and I wanna eat something.

#extraordinary attorney woo

[poormeowmeowcollector]

When In Doubt, Be A Snake

Warnings: snakes, physical contact with snakes, selective muteness

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Summary: Loki is having a bad day and you decide to comfort him. But you didn't expect certain copying mechanisms from them

Notes: inspired by this work by @bouncydragon also, the gif is not what Loki looks like, but it has the vibes

Read on AO3

You knock on Loki's door, balancing the tray of fruits and tea in your hand. "Can I walk in? I've got you some treats," you ask.

As you expected, no one answers.

"I'll count to three, if you don't say no, I'm walking in," you decide, slowly counting out loud. And, as you promised, you open the door after saying three.

The room is quiet, not a single sign of Loki. You sigh and sit on a nearby couch, waiting for something.

Until something shiny catches your eye in the bedroom. You walk closer, surprised when you see a green snake, just a bit longer than your arm, slithering around on the wooden floor.

"Hello, little one. How did you get here?" you ask. Snakes can hear, right? And they probably smelled you as well.

They turn their head to you, sticking their tongue out and wiggling it. "Are you friendly?" you wonder and kneel, watching as they stay still and stare at you. "You didn't attack me, so friendly. I have some snacks, your owner doesn't want them. Some fruits and things. Are you interested?" you ask as if the snake can answer. They crawl closer, bumping their head to your fingertip.

"The owner, as you idiotically said, is right here," Loki's voice echoes in your head, clear as a bell but with his actual accent instead of the Allspeak one. You stare at the snake again, noticing the black pattern and the golden patch on its head, almost like Loki's helmet.

"Loki, are you the snake?" you ask, regretting whatever life choice led you to this point. And the snake nods a yes. Okay, you're going insane.

"Okay, em… do you still want the fruits and tea? And, could we sit anywhere but the floor?" Loki lays his head on your hand this time.

"Yes, of course. Just go on the couch, I'll be there shortly," they hum and move back, waiting for you to leave. You nod and do as he said, waiting on the couch.

Instead of the snake, the actual Loki comes and sits beside you, handing over a piece of paper. You nod and start reading, letting Loki take your left hand and play with it since you know that they will start picking their own hands if you don't let them.

"Okay, and why did you turn back?" you ask, but your hand is more fascinating than your words. "You know, you could just cut off my hand and keep it," you scoff, almost to yourself.

But this time, Loki does respond with a low hm. "I said, why did you turn back? You wrote you're more comfortable as a snake," you repeat.

"Oh, it's easier to write when having hands," he answers, again using telepathy instead of language, and leaving your hand aside. Their green light covers them as they turn back to a snake, and snuggle near your thigh. "You can have the tea," he informs you.

You let them get comfortable and go fetch the tea from the coffee table, but Loki decides to crawl into your hand and towards the tray. "You can just ask for some," you sigh, feeling his retreat in your lap. "Do you want the whole bowl or just pieces?" Loki points at the bowl with their tail. You nod and leave it beside him on the couch.

But no matter what size Loki readjusts as, they cannot get a bite from there. "Could you lend me a nice mammalian hand?" he asks, staring at you with his big green eyes and flicking his tongue at you. You chuckle at the demand since being called a mammal is not exactly easy to get used to, and fetch a grape from the bowl, giving it to Loki.

As they try to eat it, their fangs bite you, venom making the wound sting. "Hey, be careful," you growl and press the bite, hoping the bleeding will stop. Loki bumps on it with his head, making it heal on a tickling light. "Thank you," you smile and pet their head before choosing another fruit.

This time, you lay the strawberry piece on your hand and let Loki take it from there. And he didn't bite you in the process. You let them tangle themselves around your armpit and rest their head near your wrist, ready for the next treat.

Apparently, snake Loki is much more gluttonous and has less impulse control than Æsir Loki. You didn't manage to take maybe five sips of your tea before he emptied the bowl. You know that actual snakes need to go hide in a hole for a few days after eating, but Loki doesn’t follow that pattern. Instead, they crawl in you and yank the rest of their cold and slippery body into your shirt, resting their head in your shoulder.

“If you even think of spitting those out on me, I will skin you and make gloves,” you snarl.

“Relax, I’m not a snake on the inside,” he reassures you. You sigh and choose to believe them, hoping they are right.

"Well, did anything happen?" you ask, taking a sip of your tea and watching as Loki gets bigger and snuggles harder against you.

"Why are you asking?" his voice never gets lower or higher, but you can feel how relaxed he is.

"Because, usually, something happens and you go mute. So, did something happen?" you don't consider thinking before speaking. But Loki has been used to this, luckily for both of you.

"Just remembered old things, nothing bad. It should be better after some time," they hum, trying to keep the calm tone. You don't answer, but move your hand up and scratch Loki's neck with your fingertip, feeling them relax under your touch, their tail flickering happily like a dog's.

"Do you feel like discussing them?" you ask, knowing all so well how much venting helps Loki. But he nods a no against your shoulder and hides beneath your sleeve.

There, they stop moving altogether, and you're sure they're falling asleep. So, you stop moving as well and act like the good pillow you apparently are.

He starts relaxing their body and gets crushed by his weight as he turns back to Asgardian, still clenching on you and ripping your shirt in the process. You sigh and decide not to move them, you don't know if the "remembering" of this old thing allowed them to get some decent rest and you won't take it away from them.

But you do remove his shoes and lay down, letting him fall with you and adjusting his body into something more comfortable. They react by moving in their sleep, turning to their side and changing your role from a pillow to a teddy bear. You hug the cold hands that hold you there, gazing at the moss green wall in front of you before the lack of movement makes you sleep as well.

You wake up at three in the morning, Loki still holding you close as he slowly wakes up as well. You turn around, giving in to the smile creeping out at the adorable image. Their eyes are still half-closed, trying to adjust to bring awaken, their lips are puffed and rosy, barely closing their mouth. His hair is in messy knots, edges pointing out here and there and his cheek has the texture of the knitted pillow printed on it from staying there for too long. You move a lock of hair away from their face, brushing their scalp as you pass it behind their ear.

"You know, you look adorable right now," you grin, almost disappointed at how he scoffs away your compliment. "No, I mean it," you insist. They turn away and hide their face in the pillow, but you can still see the blush turning their ears bright red.

"It burns like Hel, I hate you," he groans, voice low and throaty from either the sleep or the lack of usage.

Without thinking, you throw your arms around them and into a tight embrace. He freezes for a second, before curling back to you and holding you just there.

"You deserve a treat for feeling better. How about some ice cream?" you smile against their shoulder.

"It's three in the morning," he argues.

"Oh, yeah, I forgot. Crepes?" you snuggle on their neck.

"Crepes it is," you feel their chest shaking as they purr the words, pushing you away only so they can get up and straighten their shirt. You pass your elbow through his, grinning as you pace towards the kitchen to make those precious crepes.

~~~~~

Taglist[open]: @lucywrites02 @electroma89 @the-emo-asgardian

#loki x reader #loki fanfiction #loki fanfic #loki marvel #loki #reader insert #snakes #tw snakes #tw muteness #selective mutism #mutism #tooth rotting fluff #loki fluff #fluff without plot #fluff #marvel fanfic #marvel fanfiction #one shot #fanfiction #fanfic

[person-with-multiple-interests]

Tomorrow Hill chapter 2 part two

They arrived at the mall’s parking lot, time to do what they came here for, back to school shopping. Hunter was afraid of this, afraid of doing his tics in public and just genuinely anxious about the whole thing as well.

The two of them walked into the mall looking for school supplies. Hunter is hoping that his foster parent will allow him to get more art supplies and a new sketchbook. Then he saw something that stole his breath almost instantly.

It was a guy hazel eyes and hair dyed emerald green and a beauty mark under his left eye. Standing next him were two girls one who looked like she could be his twin, maybe they were identical twins and one with lavender hair she probably dyed it as well. Either way that guy was really eye catching Hunter couldn’t stop looking at the other boy maybe it was better for them not to know each other. Hunter felt a blush creeping on his face when the other boy laughed, that laugh was just ear candy to Hunter.

Bump took notice that he didn’t have Hunter’s attention anymore he was about to ask Hunter if found something he until he saw who he was looking at. Edric Blight, one of the three Blight siblings. Bump saw the look in Hunter’s eyes it was basically love at first sight so he decided to throw this love struck child a bone.

“You like him?”

“Huh, like who?”

“Him right there, do you want to talk to him?”

He nodded. But he was confused guys are supposed to like girls……right?

“Then do it you need practice for when you get to school anyways.”

Hunter took a few deep breath’s and started making his way towards the boy he was already feeling like he’s going to have an anxiety attack.

Edric was just scrolling through his phone when he looked to the right and saw someone standing next to him. Bleach blonde hair and an undercut extending to the back of his head leaving the bit of hair at the top left, ruby red eyes that were so beautiful that Edric had to do a double take, pale skin he did have a bit of color but other than that he was mostly pale, and a scar that went from his jawline to a bit of his cheek Edric wondered what could’ve happened to have the boy standing next to him receive that scar.

Hunter’s body suddenly lunged forward, he felt like he was going to fall over had it not been for the emerald haired boy catching him.

“You okay?”

“I’m pop just fine. I’m used to it click actually.”

That made no sense to Edric but then again he could ask Amity about this interaction she was planning on becoming a neurologist.

“Ok.”

Edric walked away leaving to ask his little sister about the interaction but Edric had admit in his mind that boy was kinda cute not the body jerking, to Edric it looked kinda painful but Edric did know that the blonde couldn’t control it, aside from that he was cute.

Hunter was standing there frozen in place then walked back to his foster dad.

“How’d it go?”

“I messed up, I think he hates me.”

“Hey no worries you’ll have another chance.”

“Yeah maybe, anyways do I have art classes on my schedule?”

“Uhh hold on let me check. You do have art on there, do you want to pick up some art supplies and a sketchbook for that next?”

“Yes I do want to do that.”

“Alright that’s our next stop.”

Edric finally caught up with Emira and Amity in the clothing section when Amity’s eyes caught something. A purple hoodie with cat ears on the hood. Amity gasped.

“This is perfect for Luz, favorite color, cat ears, hold on is it soft?”

She felt the texture of the hoodie seeing if it was soft like Luz liked it knowing that her girlfriend had issues with certain textures on some clothes especially hoodies.

“It is. I’m getting this for her and giving it to her tomorrow, she’s going to love it.”

Emira chimed in.

“Oh yeah, I’m sure she’s going to love it mittens.”

Emira saw Edric making his way towards them.

“There you are! What took you so long?”

“Sorry Em, just met someone.”

Amity’s interest was peaked.

“Oh ho and who was this someone?”

“I didn’t catch his name but actually I wanted to ask you about him mittens.”

“Okay go for it what’s the question.”

“Actually never mind.”

Amity just shrugged as she headed towards the register to pay for the stuff they got.

“So you’re just going to leave us hanging?”

“Yes I am.”

“Dude that is such a dick move.”

“I know Em.”

“Well I’ve already payed for the stuff we need.”

“Nice one mittens.”

Hunter saw that boy was about to leave, and knew he didn’t want to lose him so without even a second thought he started speed walking towards the boy clearly on auto drive.

Edric was five inches from the exit when he suddenly felt a tap on his shoulder. It was that boy.

Hunter extended his hand (maybe if you suppress your tics then he’ll be your friend at least) surprisingly the other boy took his hand and shook it.

“Hey.”

“H-hi.”

Hunter was already nervous about this he didn’t even know what to say.

“I wanted to ask you something.”

“Alright what is it?”

“Back there your body just kinda pushed you forward and it looked like you couldn’t control it what did you mean by you were used to it?”

This is what Hunter was afraid of.

“Yeah sorry about that. That was just….one of my tics.”

“Tics?”

“Y-yeah I have click Tourette’s.”

Edric had seen Amity doing research on it so he had a basic understanding of it. Hunter felt like he had to continue the silence was deafening.

“It’s a neurological condition that causes-”

“I know what it is it’s just I’ve never met someone that has it.”

“O-oh your pop okay with that.”

“Why would I not be.”

“R-right.”

“Give me your phone for a bit.”

“Why?”

“You’ll see. Oh yeah what’s your name?”

“H-hunter, and yours?”

“Edric nice to meet you Hunter.”

“Nice to throat clear meet you too hiccup Edric.”

Edric began to type his number into Hunter’s contacts, then Hunter spoke pretty quickly.

“I mean if you want to hang out tomorrow that’s fine but I’d understand if you didn’t wa-”

“I’d like that. So tomorrow it is?”

Hunter was at a loss of words this drop dead gorgeous guy was accepting his proposal to hang out. He didn’t even know what to do.

“Yes pop tomorrow it is.”

“Cool see ya.”

Edric gave Hunter his phone back then winked at him as he walked away which caused Hunter’s face to turn bright pink. Hunter was new to this the only other friend he had was his foster sibling Skara other than her he didn’t have any other friends.

Maybe this won’t be so bad after all.

Now was the difficult part asking his foster father if he could hang out with him. Hunter was still shell shocked over the interaction that he forgot about why he was there in the first place.

“There you are kid. You ready to go home.”

“I want to tch ask you something?”

“What is it.”

“Remember that guy from the mall?”

“Yes I do.”

“Well grunt he and I have made pop plans to hang out cough tomorrow, is it ok if I go to his place?”

“Of course it’s okay.”

“Thank you.”

“Anytime kid, now then let’s head back home.”

#hunter toh #toh fanfic #tourettes #tourettes syndrome #foster care #principle bump #edric blight #emira blight #amity blight #huntric #goldric

[doodleimprovement]

CSAU :: Moonie Jericho and the Mysterious Case of the Moon-Jumper Mask

At long last, It is finished! Happy Halloween! 

Below the line is a lighthearted fic taking place in the “Coffee Shop” AU (( @doodledrawsthings​ ))with Magic! Family fun! Low stakes! And a gratuitous cameo by my OC because of course Nell is here 

Seriously though this fic is about as lighthearted as it gets. At the end of the fic are a few sketches I drew but didn’t end up coloring. 

((There’s going to be an alternate ending posted separately at a later date, but its not relevant to the fic)) 

Enjoy! 

--

Fall in Subcon Forest came in gently as always, and by the time Halloween rolled around, everyone was firmly in their sweaters and beanies and thick leggings and hiking boots that were only occasionally used for hiking. The leaves of the trees and the shining sun framed the town in such lovely muted colors that it looked like a picture right out of a magazine.

Not that anyone in the Horizon was looking out the window to see it - the curtains were closed in an attempt to not blind the employees and clientele.

It was that time between the end of school but before trick or treating, which meant that all of the teachers and parents were coming into the Horizon with their kids to get the new specialty drinks - well decorated and tasty, and more importantly, not hilariously overpriced. The kids in particular seemed to love the “Ghoulishly White Hot Chocolate”, and the teens flocked to the “Jack-O-Spices Frozen Pumpkin Latte”

Luka was almost certain that the pumpkin spice smell would burn itself so deep into his nose he’d never be able to un-smell it. A small price to pay for the rise in business, he supposed.

“Luka, Two Snatcher-ccinos!” Clover called from the cash register.

“I still hate that!” He responded with a light tone

“Too bad, make ‘em!” She teased back with a light laugh.

“Don’t get all testy, you two! We’re only open for another hour!” MJ called, grinning before turning back to the coffee machine, where they were effortlessly making yet another latte.

“Too long!” Clover argued, grabbing a muffin for a customer from the bakery display

“You’re telling me, and I still have to take Bow and Hattie trick or treating” Luka huffed, finishing up one of the “Snatcher-ccinos” and moving onto the next one.

“WE are!” MJ corrected. Luka just playfully rolled his eyes.

The conversation ended up dying rather quickly as the business went through its last rush, and, at long last, 4 o’clock came, and the store shut down. The three employees did a rather quickly clean up this night around - they were all eager to be anywhere but work that spooky night.

Once in the back of the store, Luka seemed to almost melt in relief, leaning further and further into the wall.

“Ugh, my limbs feel like Jelly” he commented as his voice gained its echo

“For all we know, they are,” Clover teased. “We’re meeting at MJs in an hour, right?” She stretched.

“Yeah.” Luka nodded “Have they already run off?”

“Yup. They’re excited” She chuckled “You gonna get home alright?”

“Yeah, thanks. See you later”

“Later!”

0o0o0o0o0

That stupid, cursed thing of a mask had not moved in weeks since he’d found it, and its stupid grin had started haunting the corner of his vision when ever he was in his studio.

It seems like it's decided that sitting on the desk in his art studio was its happy place. At least it was out of the way, and in a place he didn’t frequent often.

Though its eyes definitely still moved, which gave MJ hives like you would not believe. Why he kept it in his studio he wasn’t sure.

Tim had told him that the thing was mostly harmless, that it just seemed a bit… off, which wasn’t the worst thing in the world. Timmy even said that he got “good vibes” off of it, which was a strange phrase to use on something that felt at the very least mildly cursed.

Finishing with the caplet for his costume, gently clasping it, he looked in the mirror and gave himself a smile.

It was obscure, sure, but he’d put a lot of work into it! The legend of the “Lonely Man” was well known in these parts, maybe someone would get it. Someone had to.

Whether or not anyone got it, he was still happy with the tattered thing. That faux old age took forever to get right.

As he straightened out his clothes, his eyes caught the mask once more.

His hand picked it up off his desk, and his thumb rubbed on the odd surface. He couldn’t really tell what it was made of, but it was… oddly smooth, he thought. His brow furrowed as he looked at its eyes, a single pupil in its left eye, and a cascade of diamonds in the other. It was certainly an interesting and eye-catching design. He also liked the blue and reds, and that weirdly off-putting grin.

Such an odd thing.

He held it up with one hand over his face - not putting it on, but getting a look in the mirror at how it would look with the outfit.

He found it utterly bizarre that he could see clearly through the eyes despite what seemed like thick paint over it.

The mask itself wasn’t actually that scary when taken all at once. Oddly enough, it seemed to match with his outfit - at least, color wise. It didn’t even seem evil or anything. It seemed… kind.

That was an odd word to use. MJ tended to flip flop on how he feels about the damned thing

Before he could think any more about it, his doorbell rang, and the mask was left on his desk, forgotten the moment company arrived.

“Who is it?” He asked as he approached the door

“The Dread Pirate Roberts!” A little voice announced as the oak opened up.

To his absolute delight, Harriet was dressed indeed the Dread Pirate Roberts, missing nothing but the mask (The town doesn’t allow masks on minors, for some reason. A weird little policy). Next to her stood an excited Bow, grinning from ear to ear. He knew exactly who she was, but still asked-

“And who are you?”

“My name is Inigo Montoya” She said with all the faux-seriousness she could muster, holding up a foam sword “You killed my father, prepare to die!”

“Oh, goodness, the finest swordsperson in the world and The Dread Pirate Roberts have come to my home, I don’t stand a chance!” He moved out of his way as the kids ran into the apartment, and their father walked up behind him.

When his eyes went to Luka, he let out a snort. The man was dressed in a slightly silly looking prince outfit dyed almost completely purple, and his form was mostly purple as well - an energy-saving tactic if ever there was one.

“And you are?”

“He’s the ghost of prince Humperdink” Bow grinned. “This was the best costume we could find for it”

“I honestly think he shoulda died at the end of the movie so I'm cool with it.” Harriet commented as MJ moved to the side and let the group in “Is Clover here yet?”

“Not yet, I’m sure she’ll be here any minute and we can get right along with trick or treating!” MJ announced

“Yay!” the girls responded in unison, taking their place on MJs couch and turning on his old television for a brief moment of entertainment

Mj looked at Luka and grinned “Well, you’re lookin’ spooky, Luka”

“You kind of do too… what do you look like?”

MJ snorted “I’m the ‘Lonely Man of Subcon forest’. Heard of it?”

“Nope, don’t think I’ve been here long enough” Luka shrugged “Does look nice though. Very zombie-ish.”

The two chatted for a bit before there was another ring barely 10 minutes later.

“That must be Clo” MJ pushed himself off of the wall. “Can you get that? I want to grab my wallet so we can get the kids some ice cream before they go running around”

Luka nodded, giving him a grateful smile before turning to the door to greet the final member of the trio

MJ popped back into his studio, grabbing his wallet… and looking again at the mask.

He pocketed his wallet, and picked the mask up again. His thumbs rubbing against the strange texture of the mask’s sides.

He couldn’t help but admit that he was tempted.  Maybe, he could just see what it’d look like, just for a moment. Who knows? Maybe this has all been anxiety for nothing and the mask is just… weird.

He looked back into the mirror, and placed the mask on his face.

There was a moment where he stared amusedly at his reflection - it added a certain air to his outfit. Maybe wearing it out wouldn't be so b-

And then his body seized

He couldn’t move, he couldn’t breathe. He trembled and a pain started from his head and traveled down his spine. It was like the worst shiver from the cold he’d ever experienced. Like ice was pressed directly against his skin. It dispersed like a fog, freezing freezing, and, suddenly-

It stopped.

Panting heavily, MJ pulled themselves back up to a standing position - when had they bent over like that? - and lifted their head, making eye contact with themselves in the mirror.

“GAH?!”

They were - blue! And - and the mask was very much not a mask!!!

When they blinked, it blinked. When they moved, it moved. When they grimaced, the mouth moved along to create the expression. their eyes scanned over the crescent shape, past their neck and then landed on their-

“H-hands!” They stared - they were missing a finger and - had claws?? They clenched their fists in disbelief, eyes catching on a glinting just under their sleeve.

.. Where had the chains come from?

“MJ? MJ are you okay?”

Clover

“D-don’t come in, its fine!!” They panicked, “I’m uh, just, finishing up and stuff with my costume!”

“It looked finished to me” Luka commented “Did something rip?”

“Y-yes?? yes! Something totally ripped“

“They’re lying!” Hattie pointed out

“Sounds like their lying voice” Bow added.

Curse these adorable, smart little girls!

“I-I’m fine!” They yelled out “Totally fine, just fine”

“... MJ I’m opening the door, be decent”

“No, Clover, I - “

But the door opened anyway

And Clover - dressed up as “Generic princess” - looked in, and … stared.

“.... MJ?”

“.... H-hi, Clover.”

“Clover, what are-” Luka cut himself off “Uh….”

“It’s me! Its MJ, I uh - “ They tried to come up with a succinct explanation for the situation, despite not having any real idea.

“The mask” Luka quickly concluded, recognizing the face after MJs unfortunately previous run-ins.

“I … yes” MJ’s shoulders slumped a bit.

“Hey, at least you still have feet” Luka commented, causing MJ to look down and see that he did in fact still have his shoes on. Thank heaven for small mercies.

“What happened, what is it?!” Harriet pushed her way through, her eyes wide as saucers once they landed on the recently transformed adult “... Whoa”

“I … I put on the mask. I was curious and - and it..” They looked back down at the pale, blue hands, nervously moving the fingers and claws. “I felt like I was freezing, my whole body and then…” They trailed off.

“Whoa..” Harriet approached him slowly “It's like, Majora’s Mask!”

Lukas put his hand on her shoulder to stop her from jumping - now really was not the time “... I suppose that's one way to describe it.” He gave a deliberate, thoughtful face towards his transformed friend.

Bow was very firmly behind the adults, staring rather intently and slightly bewildered. Sure, she had been getting used to Mr. Princeton as a parent but.. This was somehow very different.

“... We need to talk to Tim.” Clover concluded

“Tim’s out of town” Luka reminded the group with a grimace “He and Timmy had some kind of meeting thing with other magical people. We don’t…” Luka huffed, his hair fluffing up a bit “We don’t know anyone else whose adept at magic like they are”

Harriet furrowed her brow a bit, looking at the discomfort that MJ was experiencing, rubbing their hands together. Could they be stuck like that? She wanted to think that maybe this really was like the Zelda game, but who could tell? It's not like they knew anyone….

“Yes we do!” She snapped her fingers“I kinda hate that Mu was right, but there is a witch in town!”

“What?” Lukas’ brow furrowed “Who?”

0o0o0o0o0

Getting to the edge of town was… novel, to put it simply. The group was rather lucky that Luka was used to doing this sort of thing. And he was about 4 times larger than the group, so that helped in flying them around.

With the sun kissing the earth, red rays crawling into the darker sky, they didn’t have too much time, but followed Harriet and Bow as they got past the town center, and led them down to-

“Wait, why are we at Nell’s place?” Clover stared ahead at the Mint-green home, succulents hanging from pots and a radio sitting on the edge of the porch.

“Because Nurse Nell is a witch!” Harriet announced walking up the two steps of the porch.

“What- Harriet!” Luka startled.

“Its true!” Bow defended as Hattie knocked on the door.

“Kids, we’ve known Nell for a long time, she’s not-”

“She is!” Hattie argued “We saw it!”

“She made us promise to keep it a secret!” Bow added.

Said nurse opened the door as MJ tried to speak up

“I wasn’t expecting trick-or treaters,” She greeted before looking out the door, “But I do-” She paused as her eyes landed on the strange group at her front porch.

There was a rather awkward, extended silence as her eyes scanned MJ through her thick lenses with a gaze that conveyed a strange kind of surprise.

“.... Inside, now” She pulled the door open further, leaving no room for argument.

The adults shared a glance, but did as she said, entering her small living room. She greeted them with a nod as they entered, and shut the door behind them, motioning for MJ to approach her.

She didn’t say a word as they did so, and very slowly lifted her hands to their face, holding it steady as she scrutinized. “What happened? Less than 3 sentences” She half asked/half demanded. Her tone wasn’t harsh, but it was serious.

“Uh, I put on a cursed mask and it uh… did this” They tried to sum up.

“Where did you get the mask?”

“I found it in the forest. I thought it was abandoned from the spirit festival”

“And why did you pick up an abandoned mask in the forest?”

They awkwardly didn’t respond. She sighed

“I get it, hun” She responded, resigned. “Stay still”

“I am”

“Stiller”

Clover and Luka watched her with some skepticism, seeing the woman take a deep breath, and as she exhaled, her hands suddenly glowed dimly, tapping at the side of MJs head.

“Hah! See! Told you!” Hattie pointed, jumping slightly

“Shhhhhhhh!” Bow shook her “She’s doin’ magic stuff!”

“Hm…” She masterfully ignored the yelling children “Well, good news is that the magic isn’t very strong, Just… aggressive.” Nell announced. “And it's not malevolent” She let go of their face.

“... I… How can you tell?” MJ asked, their own hand tapping their blue cheek.

“.. Let's say it's a feeling” She summed up. “You can sit down. I need to grab something from my library”

And she left the room

“.... I don’t think I’ve ever seen Nell that serious” Clover spoke out “Also the uh, glowing hands? Didn’t know she could do that”

“How did you not know she had magic?” Luka asked with a rather incredulous tone

“It never came up!” Clover retorted

“How did it never come up?”

“Its cool!” Harriet jumped into the conversation

“It think its cool too” Bow agreed “I always wondered how my paper cuts at school always healed so fast…”

MJ had sat themselves down, hand staying on their head, feeling the strange curve of their forehead with a certain fascination. Nell’s words - said with so much affirmation- did make them feel better about the situation.

The nurse returned, her expression still relatively serious, but calmer as she carried an old, thick book with a rather overly ornate cover in a faded blue.

“You’re lucky I collect these old things” She commented for a moment, sitting down next to MJ. She flipped through the pages, finding a two-page spread with a plain mask listed on it, and text printed so small that MJ just could not read it. “Here we are.”

Harriet climbed up next to her “What's it say? That’s a lot of words!”

Nell chuckled a bit at her eagerness “It is, but... “ she hand rested on the book for a moment, and then she lifted it, and the text glowed, lifting and circling around her hand like a ring.

“Whoa…. It's like the unknown from the Pokémon movie!” Bow jumped, causing Nell to laugh more.

“A little, I suppose” Nell responded, and she looked over at the other two adults, mostly at Clover, whose bewildered stare caused her to laugh again “You okay there?”

“... How did I not know this about you?”

“Never came up, dear. Don’t think too hard about it. You too, “Snatcher”” The woman gave a smirk. Luka cleared his throat. “Now…”

A simple flick of her hand, and the letters were floating around MJ’s head, and some of them glowed just a little bit brighter “Hm….. Alrightie, that's a good sign” She snapped, and the letters, very suddenly disappeared as if popping a bubble. “Well, Give until dawn, and then you should be able to take off the mask. If you can’t, come to me. I don’t work tomorrow”

“Oh… Well, that uh, wasn’t so bad. I’ll be okay?”

“Of course” Nell nodded, shutting the book “I’d’ve called the Kagai’s the moment I let go of your face if I thought otherwise”

“The who?” Hat questioned.

“Another time, Hattie, another time” Nell placated. “Now….” she exhaled, putting the book on her coffee table and clasping her hands together “I just realized I haven’t even said hello to any of you”

Something about that sentence finally broke the tension, getting a laugh out of Clover and Luka, and a snicker out of MJ.

The next ten minutes consisted of Nell reassuring the group that MJ would be fine, and reiterating that they needed to come to her if the mask did not come off by sunrise.

“There’s a lot of magic in this that I can sense. So uh, just be careful.” She warned. “I don’t know a lot about that, so you’ll have to ask Tim”

MJ nodded “Uh, thank you, Nell”

She gave them a kind smile “Don’t mention it. Next time you need me though, have Clover send me a message or just call me, alright?” She looked passed them to Harriet, who gave her a sheepish smile.

“Got it” The transformed barista nodded.

“Oh and, don’t be too worried about people seeing you. Just say it's a costume” She recommended as they walked out with their family waiting just beyond the porch. “Happy Halloween!” She called before abruptly shutting the door

“So……” Bow started

“Can we go trick or treating now??” Hattie finished.

Luka looked up to MJ, who seemed much calmer than before, despite continuing to lift their hand to their weirdly shaped head.

“.. Yeah, yeah i think we can” they gave Luka a grin “And thanks for getting us the help, Hattie” MJ reached down and picked her up “Who knew the Dread Pirate Roberts could be such a help!”

The girl giggled before being put back down “Then let’s go!!”

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

MJ was initially a bit tittered when they entered the town, but the moment anyone noticed them, the compliments rolled in.

“Wow! You look like a spooky zombie!”

“What game is that cosplay from?”

“How did you get the prosthetic to look like that, damn!”

“Wow, that is a really cool idea for the Lonely Man!”

MJ was beaming at the semi-undeserved praised as they took the kids from neighborhood to neighborhood, filling their pillow cases close to brimming with so much candy that Luka kept making a face and seemed to be mentally preparing to hide all of it, whispering to Clover and MJ about taking some of the candy so that it wasn’t all in his apartment.

“Seriously, all that candy?? They’re going to get cavities and I cannot pay for dental work like that.” The father aggressed. MJ just laughed a bit, looking ahead at the two girls who were trying to run ahead to the next house.

And then Bow’s foot caught a crack.

“Ah, Bow!” MJ startled, hand reaching out - but there was no way they’d reach her before she fell-

And then, she just stopped falling, stuck in midair as if floating.. But she wasn’t.

Upon closer examination, she was held up by a variety of red strings, connected to MJ’s clawed fingers

“... Uh”

“Whoaaaa” Hattie gaped “Magic! Cool!”

Bow pulled himself up to a standing position, and MJ put their hand down, the strings disappeared

“.. Thanks” Bow cleared her throat “That was really cool”

“It kind of was... “ They commented, looking down at their hands “I’m gonna be having a heck of a long talk with Tim when he gets back from wherever he is”

“Yeah, definitely” Luka nodded in agreement.

Lucky for the group the rest of the night went without incident, with MJ joining Luka at home and the two of them staying up until the sun started showing through the windows.

“Ready?” Luka asked him, the being no longer human shaped, as he’d finally reached his limit

“Yeah.. I think so” MJ took in a breath “She said it can just… come off like how I put it on…”

“Alright….” Luka’s voice trailed off as MJ reached their hands up to their face, thumbs by their cheeks, but then - wait! The edge, the mask! They felt it.

Barely bothering to breath, they mentally counted… 1… 2… 3!

they pulled it off and gasped as that icy feeling went through them even faster than last time, trembling and nearly falling over as Luka kept them up with their tail.

“Hey, hey! You okay MJ?”

MJ looked up, nodding “Yeah, uh, how do I..?”

“You’re back to a nerd, if that's what you’re asking” Luka lightly teased

Their hands went back up to their face, and gasped when they felt their regular skin, and their glasses (Where had they gone? Didn’t matter)

“Oh, thank god” The tired barista flopped onto their partner, “That was exhausting. Thank goodness the Horizon is closed today…”

“Hah, ready to sleep?”

“Oh, definitely” MJ commented, looking down at the mask still in their hand, its smile seeming not nearly as spooky than before.. “Hm..”

“What?”

“.. Why’d it choose me, I wonder” They muttered, sitting up and placing the mask by the window sill “But… we’ll see about finding out more, hm?”

“.. Yeah, we will” Luka confirmed.

MJ gave him a smile, hugging his partner with a slight nuzzle “Come on, we need to sleep. Hattie and Bow-”

“Oh, don’t remind me. We’re in for a hell of an afternoon” Luka groaned, but he was still smiling.

Saying that things were “back to normal” was never correct with this group, but things were still pretty okay. Maybe better, even.

Moonie figured they’d just have to wait and see.

--

BONUS:: 

Costumes! I wasn’t able to finish these in time, but I hope they suffice! 

#doodledrawsthings #coffee shop au #ahit coffee shop au #ahit #a hat in time #ahit moonjumper #moonjumper #ahit snatcher #snatcher #ahit hat kid #hat kid #ahit bow kid #bow kid #ahit florist #florist #ahit oc #ahit nell #csau nell #nell

[sleepless-in-starbucks]

Far Away but Not Apart

Ao3

Summary: Roman loved Logan with all of their heart, even if they had only ever seen him through a computer screen. Content: Nb!Roman, don’t think there’s anything else really Pairing: Romantic logince Notes: This is the amos prize minific for @averykedavra who requested long-distance logince. I’m not certain I stuck properly to the prompt, but I do hope you like it, Avery!

~

    “-I’m just saying, there is no crueler mistress than the one that would place soulmates such as ourselves so far apart!”

    Logan sighed, rolling his eyes in a way that Roman was fully aware was amused, not annoyed. Though he had started the facetime sitting up and back in his fancy office chair, he was now leaning forwards, elbows on the desk, supporting his chin with one of his hands. “If fate were as cruel a mistress as you claim, Roman, then why would she allow us to meet each other at all?”

    “To torture us!” Roman replied dramatically, grinning when Logan chuckled. “It is only in knowing the other exists that we suffer! To be so close in heart but so far in distance-”

    “A pity, yes, but one we will survive.” Logan said, scoffing when Roman pouted at him. “You will only make yourself feel worse about our situation the longer you dwell upon in it.”

    “I have dwelled upon it every day since the one I met you, and suffered it every day since the one you allowed me to call you mine.”

    “We’ve only been dating for four months, Roman.”

    “And friends for two years!” Roman added on for him. “And never once during all of that time have I so much as held your hand! It is a crime, my beloved, a crime, a sin, a defiance against all that is good and pure!”

    “You’re overexaggerating.”

    Roman sighed and collapsed backwards on their bed, hand splayed over their forehead. “No, I’m suffering.”

    Logan laughed, and Roman lifted their head just enough that they could see him as he did so, their faux pout dropping so that they could smile at their muse. People who didn’t really know Logan said he was cold, unfeeling, logical to a fault. That was because people who didn’t really know Logan had never seen him smile brighter than the sun and laugh prettier than any angel could.

    Roman didn’t realize they had gotten lost in their thoughts of loving Logan until the object of their affections coughed and said, “You’re staring.”

    “How could I not?” Roman replied without missing a beat. “You are beauty incarnate, my sweetness, figure carved from smoothest marble and face painted with finest hues. I cannot help but to stare.”

    “You really are too much.” Logan told them, but his cheeks had flushed a dark red that let Roman know their words had had exactly the impact they had hoped for. “I was asking you what you were doing this weekend.”

    “Losing myself within worlds far more interesting than ours for but the fact that they do not have you, my angelic love.”

    “So… binging Netflix?”

    “My way of describing it was better.”

    Logan chuckled. “If you say so, dear.”

    Roman smiled at the petname. They had always loved how it made them sound as if they were an old married couple (which Roman fully intended for them to be one day). “And what are you going to be doing over your break from work-aligned existence?”

    “Not really a break, I’m afraid.” Logan said, prompting Roman’s smile to become a frown. “I’ve got a business meeting on Saturday, leaving Friday night.”

    Roman’s frown deepened. “Does that mean virtual movie night is off?”

    Logan nodded, now frowning himself. “I’m sorry to say, but yes. We’ll have to reschedule for another week.”

    “Well that sucks.” Roman said, trying to keep the majority of their disappointment out of their voice. They knew it wasn’t anything that Logan could change, so they didn’t want to make him feel bad about it. “You better get me a souvenir though. To make it up to me.”

    “If a ten dollar bobble-head will fill the hole in your life that is our Friday night virtual movie marathon, then I am glad to oblige.” Logan returned, briefly looking away from the camera to check a paper on his desk. “Your address is the same, yes?”

    “Don’t know how I could’ve changed it without you knowing.”

    “Just checking.” Logan said, marking something down before he turned back towards the camera. “Now, I hate to once more be the figurative bearer of bad news, but I must take my leave- I have a client call in a few minutes here.”

    “Skip it.”

    “I do have to keep my job, Ro.”

    “Your new job can be loving me, twenty-four seven, benefits are spending all your time with me.”

    “And how much does loving you pay?”

    “Did you not hear about the benefits? They���re better than money!”

    Logan just laughed fondly. “You are cute, I’ll give you that.’

    “So you’ll take up my offer and your new job?”

    “Sadly, to function in the real world, I need a cash-paying job.” Logan told them, smiling at Roman’s following pout. “But if it alleviates your pains, know that I already love you twenty-four seven.”

    At that, Roman allowed their pout to morph into a smile. “Well, look at who’s being cute now.”

    “I’m simply stating the facts.” Logan replied, glancing at his watch. “One of which is, unfortunately, that I really must go now. I’m worried I’ll be too busy tomorrow to chat- I’ll call you on Saturday, alright?”

    “Oh, my star, my sun, my only light through the darkness and troubles that are this world, however will I survive a whole day without any contact with you?”

    “You are strong, my knight, I’m sure you’ll find a way.” Logan told them in return, grinning when Roman blushed. “I love you.”

    “I love you too.” Roman responded, blowing Logan an imaginary kiss. Logan, as always, indulged them by ‘catching it’ before he turned his camera off, Roman’s screen going dark soon after. As soon as it darkened, Roman sighed, falling back against their bed and shutting their laptop as they did so.

    It was going to be a long day and a half.

    ~

    “Roman? Wh- Why are you calling?”

    “Because I miss you!” Roman whined, not bothering with pretending to not be clingy. “Yesterday was long and dull and completely devoid of true joy and true love! I simply could not bear to wait til you called me! Oh, how I have missed you, my world, my stars, my universe-”

    “It’s barely been a day, love.”

    “Love!” Roman said, ignoring the majority of his sentence and latching onto the important part of it. “I haven’t heard you call me that in over a day! Possibly two! Hell, darling, I’ve been in absolute hell without you.”

    Logan laughed at that, and Roman had never before so desperately wished they were on a facetime, just so they could see the absolute glory that would be Logan’s face while he was laughing. It didn’t matter how many times they had seen him laugh- it would never be enough. Before Roman could say something to that extent, however, their doorbell rang, grabbing their attention.

    “Damnit.” They said, annoyed. Did they have packages coming today? They didn’t think so. And they really, really didn’t want to get up.

    “What is it?”

    “The doorbell- it’s fine, probably just a package or some door-to-door salesperson. Just annoying, interrupting the melodic sound of your laughter-”

    “You should probably get that.”

    Roman groaned and threw their head back. “But I don’t want to!”

    “It could be someone important.” Logan told them. “Don’t worry, I’ll still be here when you get back.”

    Roman groaned louder, but they still swung themself off their couch. “Fiiiine. But when it turns out to be nothing, I’m going to… I’m going to…”

    “Yes?” Logan asked, in a much too smug way that suggested he knew perfectly well Roman had no way to end their threat.

    “...I’ll think of something.” Roman said vaguely, ignoring Logan’s following chuckle of disbelief and amusement. Shaking their head, Roman moved the phone from their ear to the side of their neck, muffling the speaker as they opened the door. “Okay, listen, I’ve got some important stuff going on so-”

    Roman cut themself off as soon as they saw who was standing on their porch. Because it wasn’t a salesperson or a dropped-off package- it was a man with a suitcase by his feet, a phone in his hand, and a face Roman would sooner die than forget.

    “Surprise?” Logan said, and that was all he was able to get out before Roman had flung themself at him and wrapped them up in what Roman was sure was the biggest, tightest, most important hug they had ever given.

    “You’re here!” Roman said after a minute of just basking in the magnificence of the moment. They still refused to let go of him, having dropped their phone so that they could hold on solely to Logan, keeping him as close to their chest as possible. “You’re really here!”

    “Well I’m certainly not a hallucination or someone pretending to be your boyfriend.” Logan said, having managed to get his phone into his pocket before returning Roman’s hug. “So I should hope I’m really here, yes.”

    “Yes- but- you’re here! I can see you! I can hug you! I AM hugging you!” Roman exclaimed, knowing they were getting repetitive at that point but not caring at all. They were currently hugging their boyfriend for the first time ever, after all- how could they care about anything else?

    “That you are.” Logan agreed, voice still a professional neutral before he tightened his grasp on Roman and added, “So I am as well.”

    Roman giggled, a mostly involuntary sound that was brought about the sheer joy of the moment. They pulled back from Logan, just a bit, just enough that they could see his face- his beautiful, lovely, gorgeous face, a face that was a million times prettier in real life. “Can I kiss you?”

    “Mhmm- not on the lips. Weird texture.” Logan said, but he was still smiling, unbothered by Roman’s question.

    Happily, Roman pressed a kiss to Logan’s forehead, grinning when they saw Logan’s smile grow. “I can work with that.” They said before moving to pepper the rest of Logan’s face with kisses.

    “If I- if I knew you were going to be this persistent I- I would’ve stayed home.” Logan protested, having broken down himself and begun giggling in between Roman’s kisses, rendering his protests unbelievable.

    “My most beloved, you are a horrible liar.” Roman told him, pressing an extra special kiss to his nose before saying suddenly, “Hey, wait- don’t you have a business meeting you’re supposed to be at?! You can’t be here!”

    Logan laughed. “Roman, my prinx, this is the business meeting. I lied so I could surprise you.”

    Both Roman’s eyes and smile widened as they dived back into scattering kisses across Logan’s entire face, only stopping when Logan pulled far away enough they could no longer reach his face.

    “We are going to get absolutely nothing done if I allow you to kiss me all day.” Logan said, though at Roman’s pout he did lean forwards to kiss Roman’s forehead. “I did take Monday and Tuesday off, but I can’t be here forever, you know.”

    “You say that as if it would be a waste of our time if I used it for little more than showering you in all the affection you deserve.” Roman returned, attempting to resume their attack of Logan’s face.

    Logan pulled back once more, chuckling when Roman immediately began to sulk. “There will be plenty of time for that. But there is also time for other activities, such as one that might have been missed recently…?”

    Roman blinked at Logan, frowning for a moment in confusion before their face lit up in a grin. “Oh! Movie night! We can have a real life movie night!

    “Only if we don’t spend our entire weekend standing on your porch.” Logan pointed out. “So… may I come in?”

    “Of course!” Roman said, finally (albeit regrettably) letting go of Logan so that he could grab his suitcase and come inside. The moment he was within and Roman had closed their door, however, Roman had their arms wrapped around Logan’s waist, smiling as Logan laughed and put a hand backwards so that he could hold Roman’s shoulder.

    “You’re very touchy.” Logan commented, though he didn’t sound annoyed.

    Roman just held him closer. “Two and a half years, my heart and soul and life! So long have I waited for this moment- you wouldn’t hold it against me that I wish to cherish it, would you?”

    “It’s actually been two years, four months, and three days since our first interaction.” Logan corrected them before softening, leaning back and more into Roman’s hold. “But no, I won’t hold it against you.”

    “Good.” Roman said, pressing a kiss to the top of Logan’s head. “Because I have no plans of letting you go anytime soon.”

    Logan tilted his head back so that he could smile at Roman. “Well I should hope you don’t.” He responded, looking fondly at Roman. “Four days aren’t that much time. It would be a shame to waste even a second of them.”

    Roman grinned. “Aw, you do like being cuddled!”

    At the claim, Logan looked down, trying (and failing) to hide the blush Roman could still see blooming in his cheeks. “Maybe just a little bit.”

    Grin widening, Roman shifted as quickly as possible, eliciting a small yelp from Logan as they lifted him up and held him against their chest. “Don’t worry Lo,” Roman began, using their new position to kiss Logan’s forehead, “Four days may not be a lot of time in the grand scheme of things, but it is plenty of cuddle time.”

    Roman expected Logan to protest that, to say that time was the same whether it was in the ‘grand scheme of things’ or in ‘cuddle time’ or any other definiment of time, but he didn’t- instead, Logan just let out a small sigh and rested his head against Roman’s shoulder. “We’re watching Big Hero Six first.”

    “Of course!” Roman agreed enthusiastically, leaving Logan’s luggage behind on the floor as they walked over to their couch before adding (just because he could), “Anything for you, my love.”

    Because Logan was right- four days wasn’t that much time.

    But Roman had plans to make the most of every second.

#logince #ts logan #ts roman #nb!roman #ts sides #sanders sides #fanfic #fanfiction #the cryptid speaks #amos minific #i haven't written logince in forever #gosh i missed these bois #averykedavra

[vickyvicarious]

Eliot sweet talking Nana into sharing her secret family recipes so he can get more vegetables into both Hardison and Parker.

I was just going to write a short headcanon post about this but then the first line popped into my mind along with a line about Eliot utilizing his retrieval skills, and then next thing I knew this was a fic. First in this fandom so go easy on me.

(AO3 link.)

.

The carrot cake was the final straw.

Eliot knew his partners had terrible diets, okay? It was impossible for anyone to miss that, the way Hardison would just fill up any empty space in any fridge with orange soda, or Parker would get more cereal than was physically possible to store in the cupboard until there was at least one box permanently sitting on the table. He was well aware, and he’d been taking steps for a while to deal with matters.

He bought Hardison a fridge of his own - a mini fridge - and just poured out any soda he found anywhere else. He impressed upon Parker that just this shelf was for cereal and solemnly swore to her that he would never let it get beyond half-empty before filling it again. In the meantime, he filled the rest of his kitchen with actual ingredients, and always had a bowl of fruit out so they would have something healthy as an easy-to-grab snack. He didn’t put anything Parker liked hidden on a high shelf, because she’d find that fun; just small decoy portions while he kept most of his chocolate inside an old Wheat Thins box at the back of the cracker shelf. Speaking of chips, if he opened the bag of a good brand, then Hardison would gravitate toward it once he’d finished his Cheetos instead of going out to buy more, so that was just a matter of letting him buy one bag and then watching the level and timing when to get the other stuff out.

They both ate meat well enough, though Hardison liked to put in requests for absolutely sacrilegious misuses of various cuts; when Eliot humored him and actually destroyed his fish or brisket or whatever else as requested, he actually did seem to enjoy it, which was... very wrong, and disappointing, but at least the food was still going in his body. Parker quite liked some types of pasta now, and she seemed to enjoy when he put effort into plating things up nicely, but she was still a work in progress on any actual mealtime like a family (or a date. Not that Eliot hadn’t had to eat on the run plenty of times before, but - he’d had to. You don’t walk in to a table set for multiple healthy, delicious, innovative courses he’d been cooking for hours and then just grab bites as you wander around the room! He’d had wine out! Norah Jones playing softly in the background! No candles because he wasn’t an idiot, but it was clearly a romantic meal! What the hell kind of untrained toddler behaviour-).

Breakfast was easy, since they both liked eggs and there were a lot of ways to go from there. Breakfast potatoes were a hit too, and bacon, and they’d even eat oatmeal if he smothered it in sugar so that was something. For lunch, Hardison at least appreciated a good sandwich. Granted, usually only a stolen one because he didn’t like to make any kind of food at all that didn’t come out of a plastic package with microwave instructions on the side (and that had been an argument for the ages, the microwave one. Frankly most things could be heated better on a pan or in an oven, and those that were meant for the microwave were usually mass-produced garbage Hardison really didn’t need in his diet, but he disagreed vehemently and in the end that was one battle Eliot had definitively lost), but once Eliot caught on, he just started making double whatever he ate. Parker scoffed at the idea of lunch, for some reason, claiming that a granola bar or a brownie would get her through till dinner, but if he packed a lunchbox to look interesting and then gave it to her, she’d usually eat it. He just stocked up on bento boxes and made various kinds of colorful and/or childish looking foods and they came back mostly empty so that was good enough.

(Hardison claimed to have gotten jealous about it. Eliot was pretty certain he was making fun of him, so obviously he said he’d be caught dead before packing a lunch for him. He was a grown man and could do it himself.

“She’s a grown woman!” he complained, pointing at Parker, who was sitting perched on the back of an armchair nibbling away at her kraken bento - black noodle limbs, gyoza face, and grabbing a little egg scuba diver. “Sh-she should have to - this is discrimination!”

“Stay away from my octopus,” she squinted menacingly. When Hardison just glared mulishly back, she hugged the food closer to her chest. “It’s not for you, this is my little dead man.”

She popped the egg into her mouth and chewed, never breaking eye contact.

He turned back to Eliot to complain some more, but apparently that was only an attempt to fake her out, because he tried to grab the gyoza barehanded and she screeched, flinging her chopsticks at his face before fleeing across the room. Noodles got everywhere, Hardison had two little round bruises on his cheek the next morning, and somehow Eliot wound up packing everyone lunches every morning after that, and putting notes on them to label who each one went to.

He did not put sappy notes instead the boxes. He wasn’t their parent, okay. The notes inside the lunch were only ever reminders they needed for the con, like Parker’s character’s peanut allergy and how she needed to have the attack exactly two minutes after the mark joined her at the break table, or for Hardison to lock Lucille II behind him because even if he could track down someone who took off in her, he really shouldn’t have to again.)

Anyway, Eliot had something of a system down at this point. It wasn’t perfect, but it was workable for the most part. The one exception was vegetables, which they both hated. He’d tried to hide them several times, but they often picked them out or he just couldn’t stand to puree broccoli into a little garnish/dip just because his girlfriend and boyfriend were both giant babies about actually eating them whole. He had to eat the food too, and he enjoyed himself some veggies like any sane person would. They ate the ones hidden in their lunches almost half of the time, and sometimes other varieties, so he tried not to focus on that too much. Baby steps, he thought. First regular meals at all, then vegetables later.

But the carrot cake.

That was just too much.

It was cake. It was covered in cream cheese frosting. Carrot cake wasn’t anything but decadent, at least not the way Eliot made it for Hardison’s birthday. It was sweet, had just the right texture from the roasted pecans, the perfect hint of cinnamon and ginger. Not a complicated dish by any means, but pretty well near perfect, in Eliot’s no goddamn need to be humble opinion.

Hardison scrunched up his nose.

“Oh,” he said, not accepting the large slice Eliot tried to give him. “Eliot, I’m hoping this is a joke and you have my Red Velvet in the fridge?”

Parker let him hand her the plate, ate a bite, spat it out, then just started eating straight frosting off all the sides.

Eliot could feel his hands twitching. He very carefully set down the knife.

“What’s wrong with my cake?” he asked. Gave them the benefit of the doubt, and tried a bite: delicious.

“I mean... it’s a carrot cake,” Hardison said delicately, as though Eliot had made some kind of mistake and he felt a little bad pointing it out to him.

“So?”

“Carrot, Eliot.”

“Cake, HARDISON.”

“I like the frosting,” Parker interjected, and Eliot glanced over to her. She’d moved on from her own plate and was just scraping fingerfuls of frosting directly off the top of the cake. His cake. His cake for Hardison’s birthday, his beautiful cake -

“Babe, we love you but you gotta know vegetables don’t have any place in a dessert, that’s just wrong. C’mon, you really didn’t make me something else? Really?”

“THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU TWO?!” Eliot bellowed and stormed out of the apartment. He took the cake with him.

.

He brought it to Sophie and Nate, since they were in town and they weren’t insane like some people he knew.

“People you’ve, uh, chosen to dedicate the rest of your life to,” Nate pointed out around a mouthful. “I mean, you knew what they were like.”

“Oh, hush, Nate, don’t you get it? They’ve hurt Eliot’s feelings,” Sophie explained. She ate another bite, hummed approvingly, then waved her fork around to emphasize her words: “For Eliot, food is life. He wants them to lead long and healthy lives, he wants to live with them and show his love for them and keep them safe, and they just rejected that. It’s not all about the vegetables, y’know?”

Eliot was never sure whether he loved Sophie best or least of all.

“It’s definitely all about the vegetables,” he said, crossing his arms. The pair of them exchanged a look and then smiled at him warmly, like he’d just done something cute.

“Fine! Forget it,” he snarled, pushing himself roughly to his feet.

Behind him, Nate grunted the distinctive grunt of someone receiving a pointy elbow to the side, then cleared his throat.

“Okay, okay - wait! Wait, all right, I might have one idea.” When he turned back, Nate was rubbing thoughtfully at his chin. “You’ve tried featuring the veggies, right, and hiding them. I’m sure you’ve lectured them both to death about why they should be eating more vegetables, but that’s not going to work on them, is it, because there’s no connection there. Ad novitam is only going to get you so far, you need the, the personal touch, a little ad misericordiam if you will.”

“I am not telling them it makes me sad when they don’t eat their greens,” Eliot said firmly.

“But it does,” Sophie said lightly. She met his glare with a soft smile, and popped another bite of cake into her mouth.

“N- Well, no, obviously, but you’ve got to think it through, Eliot. Step away from the situation. How can you imbue the food itself with emotion? Not for you -” Nate spoke a little louder as Eliot started to answer, “you’re not our mark here. What kind of food, with vegetables, is going make them feel an emotional connection?”

Eliot subsided, frowning down at his own plate. That... was actually a pretty good point.

“Hm, my favorite is still that little restaurant in Paris, with the exquisite quiche. But, I suppose hard-scrambled eggs are a bit of a guilty pleasure,” Sophie mused. “Mum was never any good at cooking.”

“You too?” Nate turned to her. “Yeah, my dad could set water on fire. I remember eating from my meal plan at college - the cafeteria, mind you - thinking how good the food was in comparison.”

The solution clicked into place. (Of course it did, they’d practically hand-fed it to him.)

Eliot stood up and grabbed his coat.

“Oh, are you leaving, Eliot?” Sophie asked.

“Yeah,” he said, and turned back to smirk at them. “I’m gonna go steal Hardison’s childhood.”

.

Once upon a time, Eliot had been a retrieval specialist. You name it, he got it back. Sometimes it was actually a they or even a them, on occasion. He’d committed arson for a pair of scissors, had gathered up a scatted set of Fabergé eggs from seven different countries and two different mafias, had traveled more than once through airport security with a live frog in his pants. The business was a strange one, but he’d been the best at it. And in the years since he left, his life hadn’t exactly gotten less weird; Leverage saw to that.

Breaking into an old woman’s home and stealing a book of recipes would be easier than taking candy from a baby. Of course, Hardison made sure to keep his Nana safe, and from everything he’d heard she could certainly take care of herself, but still it wouldn’t be any great challenge for Eliot to just break in and take what he wanted. He could do it and leave without her ever knowing he’d even been there.

He rang the doorbell, and gave her his best smile when it swung open.

“Hello ma’am, I’m Eliot. Can I come in?”

(This was Hardison’s Nana, he’d never do wrong by her like that. Anyway, it wouldn’t even work. For this he needed her direct input.)

Nana was a short, soft-looking woman. Her hair was pushed back with a purple headband, and she wore loose comfortable pants and a clearly old t-shirt covered in child-sized paint handprints. She exuded a sort of maternal air that had Eliot relaxing into the visit almost despite himself. They’d only ever spoken on the phone, and he’d admittedly felt a little awkward about his plan due to that detail alone. He knew Hardison would love for them to meet her, but it just hadn’t happened yet - honestly, Eliot had been reluctant before, worried that she would find him wanting, and he’d always been relieved that no plans had crystallized into anything solid.

Certainly, despite welcoming him in and getting them all set up on the couch with home-made lemonades, it was clear she felt suspicious. A few minutes in, she dropped the small talk altogether to pin Eliot with a steely glare.

“I’m fairly certain Alec wanted to be here when we met so he could brag some more about how hot his partners are,” she said, making Eliot flush. “And I’m just as certain nothing has happened to him, or it wouldn’t be you here to tell me, so that just leaves me confused.”

She raised an eyebrow, letting him take his time responding.

He looked down at his lap. Ran a hand through his hair, feeling... not less confident that he’d get those recipes by the end of this visit, but certainly more bashful about it.

“Uh. Yes ma’am,” he said. Quickly corrected himself, remembering her insistence over the phone, “uh, Nana. See, he doesn’t actually... know I’m here...”

“I’d guessed as much,” she said wryly.

“Right. Um, I actually wanted to ask you something. There’s something I want to do for him - well, for them - but I need your help to do it right.”

She stared him down a moment longer. Then her eyes widened, and she sat back in her seat with a little gasp, hand over her heart.

“Oh, Eliot,” she said warmly, leaning forward again to grab his hand and hold it between hers, “Oh, sweet boy, of course he’ll say yes. You should hear the way he talks about you, Alec’s been head over heels for years. I may not have met Parker personally, but I’m sure she will too. You don’t have anything to worry about, trust me on that.”

“What?” he croaked. “I... w-what?”

His voice broke in his throat. He wanted to yank away but he felt frozen in place. He didn’t understand how she’d - okay, no, he could easily see how she would draw the wrong conclusions from this situation, but they were the wrong conclusions! He’d never even considered marriage since Aimee, let alone proposing to Parker and Hardison. It wasn’t like a three-way marriage was even legal, and even if it were he would never. It was too much - not too much commitment, he’d already promised the rest of his life to them both, but still too much, somehow. He’d never dare.

“I know Alec doesn’t think too much of the institution in general,” Nana said, waving a dismissive hand, “but if you do he’ll understand that. He might not need it but he won’t say no if you ask, hon. I can promise you that.”

Eliot meant to deny the very idea. Instead what came out of his mouth was a shaky:

“...Are you sure?”

.

Hardison’s Nana - his Nana too, she insisted, even after Eliot finally managed to clear up the misunderstanding - was truly a gem of a woman. He could see so much of who Hardison had turned out to be in her kindness, her cleverness, her sense of humor. She’d broken out the picture albums for him, and had even kindly let him keep one photo of a gaptoothed little Alec in a horrible bowl cut, grinning proudly and brandishing a blue ribbon next to his science project. To Eliot’s complete lack of surprise, he’d won every year with zero competition from his peers.

(He told her that he wanted the picture to make fun of Hardison with. It was true, but she still just patted him on the shoulder and told him to keep it. Didn’t say a word when he tucked it into his wallet with unnecessary care.)

They talked for a long time. She gave him a journal to copy directly from her personal recipe book, a lovely clothbound thing spattered with grease and burnt at one edge, smelling of spices and old paper; clearly well used. She told him it was passed down from her mother, who’d put in lots of her mother’s recipes. Eliot took notes as she talked him through every one. He had a good memory but he didn’t want to miss a thing, and her recipes as written were bare bones. He could cook a delicious meal from them easily enough, but it wouldn’t have her heart in it, not like what he wanted to make.

Just talking could only do so much, and eventually they found themselves in the kitchen, demonstrating techniques and favored spice blends. It was nice, just in and of itself. Eliot rarely got to talk shop with other cooks, and it had been a long time since he’d eaten anything home-made by someone else. Nana never went to school for this stuff, but clearly her long years of experience carried their own weight, because she knew what she was talking about. 

It was late in the night by the time Eliot left her house, feeling himself flush to his ears as she kissed him on the cheek before waving until he’d driven away. And this after wrapping him up in a tight, warm hug just inside the front door.

“Alec’s done well for himself,” she said, and winked. “Now, next time I want you to bring that young lady of yours as well, you hear me? Make that a promise.”

“I will,” he said.

.

It was nearly three AM by the time he got home. Parker crashed out of the dark the second he stepped inside, clinging to him as he caught her midair.

“You made Hardison sad on his birthday,” she told him sternly, and headbutted him hard on the temple. As he winced, she pressed her nose down against his shoulder and took a long sniff. “You smell like lemons.”

“You made me sad on Hardison’s birthday,” Eliot sighed. “I mean, mad.”

“Doesn’t matter, you made him sad so I’m not sorry,” she said, and snuggled close.

Eliot carried her through the apartment, avoiding bumping into any furniture through the ease of experience, and into the bedroom. Hardison was sprawled across the mattress, fast asleep with a frown.

Setting Parker down, Eliot got undressed and climbed into the bed. He scooted behind Hardison, leaning up on an elbow to swipe a gentle thumb over the furrow between his brows. It came back, so he wiped at it again, and kissed Alec’s shoulder when he huffed a little and his face relaxed. Eliot kissed him one more time, then lay down behind him with an arm draped over his side.

Rather than going around the bed to the free space on Hardison’s other side, Parker crammed herself onto the mattress right behind Eliot, pushing him further into Hardison and determinedly spooning him.

He craned his neck up to look at her in the dark. She met his gaze solemnly and squeezed tighter, slipping a leg between his.

Eliot fell asleep warm, entangled in the two loves of his life.

.

He woke stinking hot, still entangled but a lot less happy about it. This happened every time he slept in the middle; he didn’t know why he kept letting it happen. Every single time he’d wake abruptly, heart thrumming in an instinctive alert to something wrong... Only to realize that something was just Parker drooling on his ear, or Hardison’s morning breath in his face, and (every time) both their limbs all wrapped up around him and each other in a very sweet, sweaty, and constricting mess.

The first few times he’d suffered through it, unwilling to wake them. Still basking in the fact that he was here, that he got to be a part of this. But Hardison slept like the dead, and Parker had the ability to wake up and go back to sleep pretty much indefinitely, so Eliot had no compunctions about shoving them aside anymore. He also knew that the other two were night owls who would happily sleep in to eight or even ten if left undisturbed. Eliot woke habitually at five regardless of how late he’d been up, maybe six at the latest; morning snuggles just really weren’t practical.

He wriggled free, clambering over Parker and catching her when the bed dipped and she nearly fell to the floor. Her eyes shot open, clocked him, then dropped shut as she went right back to sleep. He left them there and went to go take a shower, then wandered into the kitchen, grabbing up his new cookbook from his jacket pocket on the way.

Eliot was operating on only a couple hours of sleep; Nana didn’t exactly live next door, and he was frankly lucky he’d got out the cake relatively early in the afternoon, to be able to catch her awake at all. It wasn’t like he’d ruined Hardison’s whole birthday, just that last part they’d set aside for the three of them. They had already hung out with Nate and Sophie in the morning, and Hardison had a long phone call with Nana even before that. Parker had even given Hardison her present: a little statuette originally from a museum in Delhi if Eliot wasn’t mistaken. It was some god or something, but bore a striking resemblance to an Ewok, a detail she’d correctly guessed Hardison would love. He’d been planning on giving his present after the cake, at which point they were going to, on Hardison’s specific request, have a very normal and boring date at home. There had been a lot of jobs lately, so that must have tied into his desire for domesticity - that and ‘birthday rights’ to force them to watch all his nerd movies and lose at various video games.

They hadn’t planned anything for today either, so it wasn’t like those plans couldn’t still happen... And in fact yesterday hadn’t even been Hardison’s real birthday, just the replacement day they’d agreed to celebrate on when a con ran through the actual day. But in the cold light of day he felt a lot more stupid about taking a vegetable-related risk on Hardison’s cake, and then reacting stupidly when they didn’t like it. To be fair, he hadn’t considered it a risk at all, hadn’t even been thinking of his ongoing quest to feed them better so much as the fact that carrot cakes were good and he knew Hardison liked cream cheese frosting - but still. Sophie may have hit the nail on the head, but it was still a stupid and immature nail to let get in the way like he’d done.

He had to at least try to make it up to him.

Accordingly, the breakfast casserole Eliot put together was about as far removed from a healthy meal as any non-dessert in Nana’s cookbook. A baked blueberry French toast creation with lots of sugar, it actually was more of a dessert than anything else. It also took hours in the fridge, but that was alright; not the first time Eliot getting up so much earlier came in handy.

He took the time that it spent in the fridge to clean the apartment. He got out his gift to Hardison, swept and mopped and watered all the plants. Did some laundry, meditated a bit. Pretty much just puttered around for hours, steadily feeling worse and worse about his outburst the day before. Parker had been accepting if not forgiving, and didn’t need an explanation; Hardison might not feel the same. Eliot didn’t expect him to; he was the one clearly in the wrong. He really couldn’t regret the outcome of meeting Nana and getting her recipes, but it should have been on any other day.

He managed to time the casserole just to when the other two got up; just as Eliot pulled it from the oven, Parker wandered into the room.

“Ooh!” she said, and approached with a clear intent to stick her fingers directly into the hot food. Eliot intercepted her with a glare and a whap with his oven-mitt. She retaliated with a vicious pinch to the back of his hand and grabbed a blueberry off the top, tossing it into her mouth and wincing as she burnt herself chewing it.

“Quit that, it’s Hardison’s,” he told her.

“Hardison!” Parker yelled in what appeared to be terror, because of course she would. “I need your help right now!”

He came tumbling into the room, still only half-dressed and clumsily wielding Parker’s taser at the couch. When he saw only the two of them calmly watching him, he attempted to hide it behind his back.

“Oh hey, what’s up everyone,” he said nonchalantly. “Breakfast? Awesome. Smells like something Nana used to make.”

Parker went over and kissed him as she stole the taser out of his hand. She held it up in front of his face.

“Mine,” she scolded.

“Hey, I was ready to defend your life,” Hardison said, mock-offended. “What, you want me to run into an ambush empty-handed? Come on, baby, look who you’re talking to.”

“If you’d let Eliot teach you MMA like me then -”

“Then what, you’d use it as an excuse to choke me out again? I know what you’re after, I recognize that look in your eyes -”

“Hey, come’n eat.” Eliot put two full plates of breakfast  casserole down on the island. He braced himself, ready for Hardison to keep giving him the silent treatment or outright call him out on his behavior.

It didn’t happen.

“Morning Eliot,” he said as he came over to grab a stool. He leaned across the island; when Eliot was too surprised to meet him halfway, he rolled his eyes and reached out a hand to grab his face and pull it close enough for a quick kiss. Then he plopped down into his seat, inhaling deeply at his food. “Oh man, this smells exactly like Nana’s Blueberry Thing, I loved that as a kid. How’d you know?”

Eliot slowly sank down from his tiptoes. His stomach hurt a little from being yanked up against the edge of the island, his lips still felt the impression of Hardison’s. He... really didn’t understand.

“Uh, Nana said you liked it best,” he replied a little too woodenly. Neither of his partners seemed to notice.

“You been talkin’ to her without me?” Hardison asked, before taking a bite and moaning. It wasn’t a sex moan - Eliot knew what those sounded like - but it was damn near. “Did you turn into her? What the hell, this is it, this is the Blueberry Thing!”

Parker was at her own plate the moment Eliot said Nana; she was always fascinated by any mention of the woman, and would probably taze him for meeting her first. Right now, she was digging into her own plate, eyes closed.

Eliot cut himself a serving too and sat down to eat with them. He felt tentative, somehow, embarrassed.

“Yeah,” he grunted. “Went to talk to her last night. Got some recipes.”

The food was good. Sweet, warm, filling; clearly a comfort meal. He dug in.

When he looked up, Parker and Hardison were both staring at him. She opened her mouth, paused, and then fell silent with a glance to Hardison. He was staring at Eliot, mouth open.

“What the hell, hon?”

Eliot clenched his jaw. He knew what he should say. He’d spent all morning prepping himself to say it.

“...You never opened my present,” he said instead.

Hardison squinted at him.

“Yeah, I wasn’t gonna without you there,” he said pointedly.

“Right, well, here,” Eliot said and shoved it his direction before going back to his food. He could feel them staring at him but didn’t lift his head, kept shoveling bite after bite into his mouth as he heard Hardison final tearing at the wrapping paper, grumbling incoherently to himself.

A moment later, the angry mumbles got louder when he opened the first box to reveal the second one.

By the time Hardison got down to the final layer, a small paper booklet six boxes in, Parker was snickering rudely and his muttering was about half swear-words. Eliot still didn’t look up, kept waiting until Hardison actually read the gift.

(He’d thought it would be funny, obviously. He’d thought it would be hilarious, to watch Hardison getting more and more irritated by the wrapping paper. And he knew the gift itself wasn’t anything much, but Eliot usually prided himself on being good at getting people things they didn’t know they wanted, or didn’t think they’d ever get. He knew it was childish and kind of stupid right from the jump, but money didn’t really mean too much to Hardison, and he was confident he’d love this.

After his behavior last night, he wasn’t so sure anymore. Immaturity took on a different tone right now.)

“‘Eliot Tickets,’“ he heard Hardison read off slowly, then - “no.”

He glanced up sharply, but it’d been a sound of delight. Hardison’s eyes were wide and he was flipping through the pages rapidly with an ever-widening grin.

“No nerd jokes for twenty-four hours, back massage, favorite food, favorite sex, get-out-of-scolding free, dessert for dinner, oh my god Comic-Con?! Get to play with your hair, get to pick your cover, computer lessons, videogames, sleeping in, what kind of goldmine is this -”

Parker leaned over his shoulder as he kept going, pointing out her favorites as they worked their way quickly through the rest of the little booklet. It wasn’t horrendously long, but long enough: one ticket for every year. Twenty-eight in all.

Twenty-nine, including the piece of paper Eliot had slipped in front of the last page at seven-thirty this morning, before carefully re-wrapping every box.

“‘One I’m sorry,’” Parker read out loud. She met Eliot’s eyes as she asked, “Are you gonna use it?”

Hardison hummed thoughtfully, then picked it up to reveal the last page.

“No, I’mma save this for just the right time,” he said, waving it in the air. He looked Eliot in the eye and smirked meaningfully. “You messed up, man, you didn’t put an expiration date on any of these.”

“Dammit,” Eliot grumbled, like he’d just realized.

(It hadn’t been a mistake.)

“Don’t need that right now anyway,” Hardison continued, tucking it back into the middle of the book. “This, on the other hand - this one I’m cashing in now.”

Eliot took the little piece of paper Hardison ripped free. He sighed.

“Really?”

“Hell yes, now get in here - and no complaining, them’s the rules you made your own self. You too, Parker, c’mere.”

Eliot stood up and rounded the island, halting with a sigh just before reaching Hardison, who stood to meet him. He ripped the coupon in half.

“All right, here goes.”

Tucking the pieces into his pocket, Eliot stepped forward into Hardison’s outstretched arms, tucking himself in close and hugging him back tightly. A moment later, he felt Parker collide with them both, one arm over his shoulders and a leg around his hips. He sighed again, this time into Hardison’s shoulder, and let himself sway when they did, a gentle rock back and forth.

He closed his eyes when they started to sting.

“Sorry,” he mumbled into Hardison’s shoulder after a long minute. “Shouldn’ta left.”

“That does not count, Eliot,” Hardison told him firmly, and didn’t let go. “I did not use my coupon, I still got my coupon, you aren’t getting out of anythin’ with that you hear me?”

Parker snickered behind him.

“Not getting out of anything at all,” she said, and squeezed tighter. “We’ve got you trapped.”

.

(The next time he fed them vegetables, it was a Nana recipe and Hardison ate without complaint. Parker ate because she wanted to know what it felt like to be a little Hardison, and proclaimed the experience ‘like one of my harnesses’ which was obviously a very positive review.

The next time he fed them vegetables and it wasn’t a Nana recipe, they exchanged a look and then each ate exactly half of their servings. The rest they snuck back onto Eliot’s plate one bite at a time like he wouldn’t notice. He let them get away with it and looked down at everyone’s empty plates afterward with a weird content feeling relaxing his shoulders.

The next time he saw Nana, her words on Hardison’s bragging proved embarrassingly correct. She and Parker got along like a house on fire, and if left alone too long would probably cause a house on fire, and Hardison just watched them with a giant grin like he didn’t see the danger. Nana asked Eliot if he’d considered what they talked about last time right in front of them both, proving beyond all doubt that she shared Hardison’s love of driving him goddamn crazy for fun.

The next carrot cake he made was for Sophie and Nate. He refused to call it a thank you, but she did and also asked him to make that little French quiche she’d talked about like she honestly expected “it had spinach, I think, something green anyway, it was very light, and some kind of unexpected spice too?” would be enough to go on. Nate was no help whatsoever.)

#leverage fic #leverage ff #leverage ot3 #hardison/parker/eliot #thiefsome #my fic #anonymous #replies #aah they are hard to write much as i love them

[iconsumeheadcanons]

persona characters autism headcanons!

hi im autistic and i started my day with sun so now im !!!!!!!!! some of these headcanons are from elsewhere on tumbr, but i dont know where :(((  so i am hoping someone out there knows that n that everybody knows that i love them <3

(also go check out mollypaup and i think hypeswap if you havent already! they post some good stuff autism+adhd hc too!!! i think.. oh! and thieves-in-the-palace!!!)

P5

Joker

there was some artwork from someone on tublr..where they pointed out that he doesnt really talk outside the metaverse so--hes hyperverbal as joker and just near nonverbal as akiren

he stims ALL THE TIME. that phone thing, the pencil thing, the little tappy tap of his foot, pulling at his bangs when hes embarrassed/smug. someone get him a fidget spinner. he’ll prob learn to do tricks with it

he probably sucks at focusing in class, like i know its just the game design but hes always surprised out of his daily “star out the window at the nearby office building” when his teachers ask him questions

mona mentions when the pt is at Wilton for the first time (after they run into shido) that joker eats like shit, and that could have multiple causes at the start of the story of course, but when i first played i thought that joker was a picky eater and that the variety (and amount of food) at the buffet would be an Ordeal...

tho mona makes that comment bc joker looked pale after having a little ptsd moment from shidos voice, but i didnt know that the first time i played

maybe when joker makes a face at ryuji putting so much ginger in his gyudon? joker probably does not like pickled ginger lol

his favortive foods are all spicy, which is why the curry he makes for his friends is always ‘overly spicy’, and why kasumi makes him a curry bento and joker kept going “...?” .... “....?!”

overly reflective glasses have been a great plus for him bc now he never has to make real eye contact every again!

mona Soft. play with Ann hair. maybe Braid. nice

puns (Gorou the Goroumet)

he has so many options to be straight up rude sometimes in game. he probably no clue on his own, which is why he defaults to Not Talking. people probably mention his constant scary face, which is just him being nonexpressive, squinting at all the fucking bright lights, and Tired

executive function who? we do everything last minute folks

high pain tolerance, which is why he was the kid that was always climbing trees in elementary school to get basketballs unstuck from the branches

his sixth sense lets him see treasure and possible places to climb/crawl bc 1. Shiny? Steal it. Steal it Now. and 2. Could i fit in that? Time to Find Out

probalby a bit of a klepto too oops. he’ll return it tho!! but he has to do it dramatically or he’ll die

cant sit properly to save his life

smells and touch are Great, they can keep him grounded when his brain goes off to police or dead rivals or guilt or

if a friend hung out with him and gave him total reigns of the agenda, he would choose to nap on the floor while his friend does something off to the side quietly

hyperfocuses on handy tasks (i.e. lockpicks, coffee brewing, cleaning, his part time jobs) and some things like movies and books. everything else is a tossup

his (normal) navigation app is his most used app bc he still doesnt know where hes going, even though he only goes to the same few places in the city

hates being sweaty, literally cannot stand it. probably double exhausted during the summer

but Needs Compression so hes often Struggling

Futaba

paraphrase from p5d “i have no motor skills so i cant play rhythm games :(” need i say more? (i will regardless)

echolalia all the time, from anime, memes, the PT

those headphones she wears all the time? noise cancelling ear protectors babey

only talks about her interests, “normal” talking is Not Easy, but she is still communicative w others despite her worries. shes not “hard to understand” at all but she feels the anxiety nonetheless

only talks informally, cannot talk ‘politely’ with out imitating someone around her

shes had meltdowns and anxiety attacks in game :( i relate so hard

Technology. thats it

def had an egypt phase that pops up every few months. probably came from yu-gi-oh

has Immune to Bright Lights buff.  joker is very jealous

“Time to make like a tree and leave!” and 30 other iterations

video game metaphors are the only ones that makes sense to her

probably relates hard to robot characters in anime for their general androgyny and confusion about human emotions and connections

probably gets told that shes “too smart to be on the spectrum” by teachers >:( she fails their classes on purpose

wakaba’s autistic too that just how it is

the Connection that she establishes with Joker is so Warm. my life goals include adopting an older brother like futaba has lsdkfjslkfj

also eater of 5 foods only, i mean, she brings cup ramen to the beach. i just really admire her...

hides in small spaces for comfort

doesnt she have like uhhhhh hyperthymesia or something like that?

Yusuke

art

his entire social link is learning how humans work, which i relate

talks seriously all the time

“sarcasm? who is that? are you saying I was sarcastic?...how?”

cant remember to take care of his body, and madarame did not help with that either

lot of uncomfortable staring, hes overdoing the eye contact thingy

infodumps all the time, doesnt know hes doing it

needs a lot of support even if he doesnt think he deserves it. no one ever complains about helping him out tho

visual stims my friends

he didnt know that you could look up pictures on the internet but he does know you can stream live videos of waterfalls and fluffy animales!!

I am certainly in the mood

for something salty today.

he and joker are scared of math. numbers do not interact

Yusuke, futaba, and akiren are a trio and i know this bc their first day of non-thievery interacts is Akiren clearing Futabas room w/o permission, futaba hyperfocusing on destroying medjed, and yusuke rearranging futabas figurines so they are more visually appealing

morgana is a support friend for all of them bc igor knows they need it

P4

Souji/Yu

yes, he mostly wears gray semi formal clothes bc parents tell him to, no, he will not changes this

Schedule or Death

“sorry, could you repeat that?” “huh? oh yeah, i was saying that--” “yeah that’d be cool.”

cats, fishing, he just likes to be quiet. you can literally spend a day at the beach just to think if you want, and that is what yu want

has a lot of scripts for things (of which he shares with nanako!) but if he runs out he just stops talking..

inaba is a godsend bc its so fucking quiet and warm

he Yearns to hold his friends hands, but he shies away from a lot of touch (excepting yosuke, teddie, and nanako)

Cooking and Cleaning makes the world better. he and joker vibe together with this

unlike akiren, he strong arms any executive dysfunction into Be Productive or Else. his punishment is feeling the pure anxiety of having to make up for ‘lost time’. (another symptom of his workaholic parents)

writes everything down, notes are very neat, has pages dedicated for bad doodles when hes not feeling his usual Super Classroom Focus

Cannot handle secondhand embarrassment (most often caused by yosuke) and will quietly slip away to random cats or origami folding

hungry, crunch crunch folks. probably needs chewelry bc he used to chew on his shirt collars when he was younger.

cleans up after everyone in the food court, constantly worries about them accidently hurting themselves. likely spends half of group conversations watching peoples hands

he canonically eats expired food, nanako plz help your brother

really clumsy, but people only notice after they decide that he is a cool person

video games are too chaotic for him

exhausted every night from the pure amount of masking he does, if a friend spends the night (or is like yosuke) they will know his more comfortable weirdo self (tho everyone knows hes a weirdo eventually)

hyperempathetic, sometimes just understands animals and children better than peeople his age or older

Yukiko

her jokes

she and souji get in ‘trouble’ together, she and joker commit crimes together

she and chie have to coordinate outfits, its important

actually understands metaphors, but does not understand people

like me, had no clue that creepy kid was flirting with her

she is very angry when she has meltdowns that might involve slamming doors and shouting. her parents call these ‘tantrums’ and ‘unfitting for a polite daughter’ but really thats because her meltdowns tend to be caused by arguments w her family after a long day of school and TV world traipsing

the metronome meme, except hers goes between Loudest Person in the Room to Quietest Pin Drop in the Planet. she is completely unaware of this

her atmosphere brightens when chie appears. that is not only the lesbian energy within her, but also because chie is like her Favorite Person

Cannot wear Pants. No (tho she wants to try it! but she puts them on and her soul instantly squashes)

happy flappy lesbian! watch out!

Naoto

the pouty face. all the time lskdfjlasdkf

hes really snappy sometimes and i love that for him. he and akechi should fight just to see what would happen (please read Bang Bang Shoot Shoot on AO3)

“do not touch me or my hat, thank you”

no one has ever seen him shutdown and no one ever will (except for his grandpa)(and kanji)(and rise)

probably likes certain food textures and will stand for nothing less, probably feels embarrassed about his preferences with friends

constantly jumps between ‘everybody hates me so i should act like them so they dont hate me’ to ‘i refuse to be anything but very comfortable as myself, and i dont care that im making you upset sir’

he and souji are the king and queen of subtle stims, but for unhappy reasons :(

does not make jokes. cannot joke around. understand? yes, do? no.

loose clothes are the only good clothes, but all tags and obtrusive seams will be obliterated by kanji tatsumi

not very empathetic so he probably comes off as an asshole to strangers (like when he throws away his classmates confession letters without reading them) but he tries so hard to sound comforting when his buds are struggling.

his understanding of others emotions/reactions come from his learning as a detective, which seems cold+clinical to others, especially compared to souji, whos completely unexpressive but very introverted people person

P3

Hamuko/Minako/Kotone

big personality!! very people-oriented!! koromaru and her are buddies!! when shes having a real bad time, shes very quiet and expressions turn off

interrupts herself in the middle of conversations all the time. no one knows where shes coming from. her brains is thousands of km ahead of her body

bouncey legs, swingin arms, twirlly skirt, little somersaults! when will she stop? never!

very obvious music stims with her hands and arms! people are like “oh there she goes! happy as usual!” shes listening to minatos heavy metal playlist

switches from exhausted to excited within milliseconds. no one can predict, not even her

SEES has to ask her for context all the time cuz she’ll just continue shit from 2 weeks ago without warning

professionals will assume shes very childish bc of how chipper she is, but she is beyond mature for her age and only feels comfortable enough to have serious conversations if a person has proved themself able to handle it

collects every little thing. her room is a mess and she has to get rid of most of it every time she moves :(

hates cleaning! smells bad, feels bad hhhhhgggg

dont let mitsuru-senpai see her bedroom

gets lost in the middle of conversations with others bc shes thinking about a story connected to one(1) word that was said earlier

 no sense of time and place, she just sees her friends and goes “ah, this is the right place, then” but junpei and akihiko are also lost so now theyre all screwed

Minato/Makoto/Sakuya

no talkies, no walkies

his story in the movies is him literally learning how to function around people he cares for

doesnt get jokes, expressions, body language, empathy, subtlety, metaphors, physical contact, or eye contact. aigis is probably the only person he truly understands right away

he is still nice to people because he doesnt see a reason not to be, but also he has very limited energy so only his senpai and old people get his most polite-kindnesses

cannot describe feelings for the life of him. the team wont know hes injured or sick until hes passed out

everything is too loud, time to drown it out with my loud ass music

rocking and chewing stims, ryoji is the first person to point him out for these subtle stims (not accusingly of course, just general pure curiosity and love for the uniqueness of humanity)

likes to cover his face with whatever is available, lives like a bat in a dark dry cave

will wear anything that has pockets and his blue/gray/black palette

sleepy at all times bc he never has much energy

when he was younger he probably needed a lot of support, especially after his parents died, because he wouldnt communicate like a neurotypical and would shutdown for hours in the middle of school without warning. probably missed a lot of lessons and field trips out of pure overstimulation

eating at all times. no preference, just whatevers closest

his meltdowns probalby include humming whining noises and curling up in a ball, which makes people want to touch him, but that is the LAST thing he wants. put a blanket on him! play some music! do not talk and do not expect him to speak

aigis is the only person who can touch him normally bc her hands are cold and he likes cold

never nude, feels mmmmmmmmm without clothes and probalby wears a full robe in the hotsprings

will not do things that take more than one step w/o someone else walking him thru it, which Same

#my writing #p3 #p4 #p5 #persona 3 #persona 4 #persona 5 #ren #futaba #souji #hamuko #minato #vibes straight thru the sun #i sincerely hope the read more works #im so srry for grammar problems #i literally cant read rn

[zirkkun]

The Butterfly Effect (Part 1)

x prev || next >>

The Butterfly Effect (Undertale Fanfic - overall given a AO3 M rating) Prologue

+ sans x gender neutral reader (first person POV from reader)

+ 2701 words, english

+ fluff, explaining past experience; conflict with adapting to a new environment

+ takes place in the Underground; barrier is not broken

+ part of a series I’ve been passively writing, no idea when I’ll update. only have written the first two parts but have a vagueness of the whole story outlined

+ AO3 link

It wasn't a reality I ever expected for myself, but it was happening nonetheless. The very tip of a temperate finger, silky smooth without even the texture of a fingerprint to taint it, brushed against my cheek. A smile couldn't help but curl at the corner of my lips, mirroring the permanent, toothy smile plastered on the face across from me. A chuckle surfaced from the both of us the second I reacted to his motion; I leaned forward, pressing my forehead against his. The hand against my cheek slid to the back of my neck, the thin fingers fitting perfectly between the bumps of my spine, and pulled me just that little bit more forward to where the space between us was sealed, my lips pressed against his toothy grin. There were no opposing lips to lock mine to, but I no longer minded. That wasn't what mattered. Staying at his side, feeling the tender touch of his otherwise boney and rough fingers against my skin, and cuddling with his head cozily tucked under my chin as he held me close... Intimacy didn't have to be defined by following social norms.

But of course, leave it to me for being the one strange enough to date a skeleton monster before figuring this out. I guess some people just need to find out through extreme examples, myself apparently included.

Nevertheless, I didn't worry too much about it anymore. I used to be more self conscious about it, more hatefully self aware. But between him and his brother, not to mention their friends, I grew more accustomed to the idea of living with monsters no differently than I would any of my fellow human beings. Sure, it was a bit hard to stumble through this at first, but it's not like I was alone in adjusting to this new realization or lifestyle. I was alongside the monster friends I had made, who were adjusting to me living with them in this underground kingdom they called home.

I don't remember how I fell down here. It's been far too long by now. Maybe it was an attempted suicide? I'm not sure. My life outside of this place as a whole is just a blur, but I do remember I wasn't in a place of happiness. Angry about broken societal systems, feeling unable to adjust to the way the world was built just after I finally figured out how to work with my own self, and losing hope for the bright future I was once promised as a child. It would be no surprise if that's why I wanted to leave, why I came to the place where humans were rumored to never return from. And, frankly, I can see why. I don't want to leave this place. Here, I'm free of so many of my fears and worries. I'm free of hatred, debt, betrayal, and confinement. I could do and be how I wanted. The friends and family I've gained while living here are far closer to me than any of the humans I can even vaguely remember from on the Surface. But I didn't always feel this way; it took a certain skeleton to truly convince me to stay.

Until then, I'd been desperate to leave. Afraid of where I'd ended up. There was no one of familiarity around me -- not a single human being in sight for as far as I could see. Monsters of great variety were the only living creatures down here, ones that I couldn't have thought of even for the most obscure of fantasy novels. I was scared, despite the kindness I had received. My fear peaked when I met a murderous buttercup, but slowly began to dip when my life had been saved by a kindly woman with thick fur and the complexion of an anthropomorphic goat. But it never really went away until much farther down the line. Not even through many puzzles, dates, and playful japes did I even really teeter off the edge into security.

It had been blisteringly hot; used to the moderate temperatures from above, the volcanic heat of the lava pool city was not something I could handle well. With the lights of the bright resort coming into view is when I saw him waiting, his stained and tattered old jacket truly obvious amongst the glam and glitz of the Hollywood-like building behind him. His smile was the same as it always was -- while at that time, I hadn't known, but it was false, hiding a pain only he carried then. And yet, even then, when I saw it, the stress hanging in my heart was lifted for just a brief moment. He'd asked me back then if I wanted to get lunch with him, since he was on break. Having yet to develop any feelings, I agreed without much thought whatsoever. "Great, thanks for treating me," he had joked, earning a laugh from me.

We hadn't actually ordered anything. Rather, we just stood across from each other on opposite ends of one of the decorated tables, talking for quite a long time. He told me of the time where he started making jokes to a woman through the door to the Ruins, who I could only assume was none other than the woman who had helped me when I fell down here. But his tone had drifted off when he told this story; his eye contact was lost, that false smile ever so faltering to his thoughts. I hadn't even gotten the chance to ask what was wrong before he answered that question for himself. "Y'know, kid, what drives you to leave this place? You've already got so much down here... What else do'ya need other than some good friends, good food, and some bad laughs?"

I thought about it for a moment. I think he was going to brush aside the topic after my initial response of silence, but I had stopped him, interjecting with my own thoughts. "I don't know," I had answered truthfully. "I don't know what's driving me. I don't remember anything good from where I came from... All I know is that I'm scared, and I want to go back to where things are familiar."

He didn't know how to respond when I said that. That moment is probably the most shocked and unprepared for something I have ever seen him in my entire life. His smile's falseness revealed its truth, slipping away as he stared at me completely dumbfounded of the words that had fallen from my mouth. It was as if he had been hoping to hear someone say that for years. As if he had been begging for someone to answer his question. That broken false smile slowly turned itself into something more genuine as he continued our conversation. "C'mon, now. There's no reason to be scared. Sure, there's a lotta folks who keep ravin' about how your SOUL will free us, but at the same time, you don't have to step forward and tempt the king if you don't wanna." He had shrugged, hands still buried deep into his jacket pockets. "But, I'm not the one livin' your life. You do you. I ain't gonna tell you what you should or shouldn't do, not now."

I had let his words soak into my mind, deeply considering the suggestion he was ensuing. I couldn't help but wonder: what was normal life down here? I'd somehow managed, with my frail self-worth and lack of bravery, to befriend many of those who lived here. There was next to no one alive in the Underground who still wanted to hand my extracted SOUL to the king. With that knowledge, it clicked: it was safer for me here than it was anywhere else in this world. The moment this thought grazed my mind, I was already saying, "Do you know anywhere I could stay?"

I'd thought he was going to cry when I said that. I still don't know why it struck him the way it did, just my asking if he knew someone I could stay with. But regardless, he let me stay with him and his brother.

For a while, I lived on their couch. It wasn't particularly the most comfortable of living conditions -- the old, raggy, stained, and ripping couch was awful compared to my previous, yet very-below-average mattress -- but even so, the skeletons' cozy house eventually became my home. I even began calling it that only a few weeks into living here. Something about living here just clicked. Even when I woke up to aggravated yelling, one brother telling the other to get up and go to work, I couldn't help but just giggle and relax in the environment. They were a chaotic pair, those two, but they were inexplicably generous and beyond kind. I couldn't help but consider them as family in such short time. And, well, in the case of one... I couldn't help but fall in love.

I hadn't meant to. But that's always how it goes, isn't it? No one ever means to fall in love. At first, actually, I hated it. I hated myself for it. The mere sight of him made me paranoid. He became confused as to why I would suddenly reject every moment he was so much as in the same room as me, but I couldn't answer. How could I? I was still adapting to the life of merely living without the presence of humans -- my internal morals screamed at every turn that this was nothing but wrong and disgusting. No one wants to hear that about themselves. Not to mention, these monsters were still getting used to me, as well. To me, they were the weird ones, but to the greater society, I was the odd one out. The anomaly. Why should, by any means, should this guy accept my feelings, when there's thousands of people of his own kind surrounding him?

I hadn't meant to confess to him ever, truly. Had it not been for that one night where a dark dream swallowed my sanity whole, I don't think I would have ever said a word to him. But, as it is, no one ever chooses to have the dreams they do, either.

I had woken with a yelp and a jolt. The vague snowy light from the window above me still shimmered, despite the hour; adjusting to the time within an underground cave had been a bit of an interesting challenge. But I digress: at this point, such things no longer bothered me. Now, the only thing on my mind was a horrifying nightmare, one terrible fear looping its imagery before my internal eyes over and over again without fail. I hadn't wanted to go to him about this, but I was nearly weeping with fear. Had I been able to, I may have gone to his brother instead to talk to, but unfortunately, this was one of the many nights he opted against sleeping and instead decided to work overtime. I had no other choice, if I wanted to get this horror off my chest, than to speak to him directly.

I had taken a deep breath once I reached his door, my hand shakily gripping the handle. At this point, even though we had been living in the same house for over a month or so, I hadn't even been inside his room. I didn't know if I was welcome. That stress, on top of the fear cycling through my eyes, caused more and more tears to form. I refused to let them fall, wiping them against my shirt as I pushed through and opened the door, allowing myself in.

"Sans?"

The soft whisper of his name had left my lips, each sound struggling to hold together in a cohesive word. I had taken another step in, repeating his name, more softly the second time. The room had been pitch black, and there was barely even any sound to indicate someone might be living in there. Just when I had thought he was maybe too deep into his sleep to hear me, I had begun to turn around, only to register the sound of my name being sleepily strung together in a deep reply. Within that second alone, the dam holding back my tears broke loose; I hadn't wanted it to, but somehow, I had lost all control. I ran to the source of his voice, and without even so much as a thought or hesitation, threw my arms around his figure sitting at the edge of his mattress. He had laughed at first, until I let slip why I came to him in the first place.

"I'm so glad you're alive... I'm so glad I can hear your voice. I don't know what I would have done if that dream was real..."

His laughter fell silent. His body felt stiff in my grip, refusing to move or react for a very long time. Then, as if some instinct washed over him, his whole demeanor changed to hold me at his side and hush away my tears, assuring me he was alive and well with what seemed akin to the sound of desperation lacing his voice. His hands, however small and thin, were careful to caress me gently, reassuringly rubbing my back and softly stroking my hair. Such tender intimacy I had never felt before, and I wasn't so sure as to why I was feeling it now. The guilt of my feelings subsided for just a brief moment as I had nudged my nose into his collarbone.

"I love you, Sans. If you died... I don't know what I would do."

His actions didn't stop. Rather, the soft huff of a cheery chuckle was released as he pulled me closer, leaning in just next to my ear. "I love you, too," he whispered back to me. "Don't worry 'bout me dying on you. It won't happen. And I won't let you do go dyin' on me either, 'kay?"

I had laughed softly, joyfully accepting this response. After my tears began to cease, he still kept me close, and instead I fell asleep in his bed for the first time. In fact, from then onward, I never fell asleep on the couch again. Well, almost never.

His brother, while readily supporting us with open arms, couldn't bring himself to accept the idea of the two of us sharing a room for a fair amount of time. And just when he had started to grow accustomed to it, the two of us had to go and spoil it by... well, let's just say by being a bit too loud. His brother made me sleep on the couch that night. Needless to say, after that, anytime the two of us wanted to be a bit more intimate than usual, we didn't do it at home. Thankfully, his brother somehow wasn't concerned by us disappearing from the house every other night.

It took me, even still, quite a long time to adjust to the whole situation. It wasn't rainbows and sunshine after that. I still kept fighting myself against these feelings, despite being accepted and supported for the relationship I had involved myself in. That human societal morality still dug in my chest -- the society that I was no longer a part of. It was hard to convince myself that this was okay here. It was hard to convince myself that my actions were justified. It was hard to convince myself that everything was okay. It took a lot of bright smiles, soft cuddles, and genuine conversations to really allow myself to break through the old morals I no longer needed. It took me nearly six months to accept the fact that humans and monsters can live alongside each other without having to worry about their differences.

And now, I still remain here, right at his side. I could still feel the gentle touch of his fingertips against my skin as I drifted off to sleep by him for the thousandth time.

So I think you can imagine my fear when I woke up alone in a completely different house.

#undertale #undertale sans #undertale fanfiction #undertale fanfic #the butterfly effect #zircon writes #i do writing sometimes it's a thing #ill be posting both this and the next chapter btw

[jetsetlife138]

Imaginary - Chapter 5

Rating: Mature for this chapter, but Explicit in future chapters

Pairing: Alastor x Fem!Reader

Summary: A mysterious device throws you into the animated world of Hazbin Hotel. Once an average human living in a three-dimensional world, you’re now transformed into a two-dimensional human that has been cast into Hell. Pentagram City’s residents are curious and most harbor ill-will towards you. Charlie and the staff of the Happy Hotel take you in and offer you protection while they try and figure out how to return you to your world. That is… until you come across a certain Radio Demon with different intentions. Chapter Warnings: Manipulation 

Previous Chapters: 1 - 2 - 3 - 4

It had been five days since your arrival in Hell and you were no closer to finding a way home than you were when you had first arrived. Charlie and the rest of the hotel staff were being as helpful as they could be, but it wasn’t easy running an entire hotel rehabilitation center on top of trying to find a way back to an alternate dimension. There was also the small fact that Charlie was the Princess of Hell and had regal duties to attend to on top of everything else. Still, you were grateful for whatever help they could provide.

Their methods of research were bizarre and not at all what you were expecting. The hotel had its very own library, filled with enough books to last you a lifetime of reading. Charlie had shown you sections of books based on travel, magic, and other strange things that were not the norm in your dimension. However, because magic was so common here, it was difficult to narrow down exactly what powerful source had brought you into Hell. The possibilities were endless.

Since you really didn’t know where to begin, you skimmed through a bunch of books to see if anything stuck out to you or jogged your memory. By day five, your head hurt, you were exhausted, and you felt utterly defeated. It felt like you hadn’t made any progress. 

However, it wasn’t all bad. The others kept you company while you read, though some more reluctantly than others. Oftentimes they assisted with sifting through the mess of books themselves. If you were being honest, sometimes having them around was more of a disturbance than an actual helpful resource, but it was a welcome distraction to ease the stress of the situation.

Charlie would randomly burst into song about whatever chapter she was reading about. Vaggie would make noises of disgust and complain about the grotesque history of Hell. Husk pretended to read through the books, when in actuality he would use the time to drink booze undisturbed and would eventually fall asleep, snoring loudly. Niffty, whom you had finally had a chance to meet, could never stay still long enough to read, and instead would start cleaning. Angel Dust just wouldn’t shut up about his sex life. 

Surprisingly, the only person who didn’t drive you crazy was Alastor. He had no problems sitting calmly with you and reading in silence. He wasn’t so much interested in the magic portion of the books as he was in the torture and carnage-filled sections. He was an enigma. 

Late one afternoon, the two of you were seated next to each other on the couch in the library. He was captivated by a book in another language with what seemed to be a sacrificial cow on the cover while you were reading about magical portals for the umpteenth time. 

No longer able to concentrate due to frustration, fatigue, and boredom, you closed the book and looked up at the Radio Demon. His normally taut and wide smile was relaxed into a closed-mouthed grin as he sat, relishing in whatever gruesome thing he was reading about from the twisted book in his hands.

Unaware of your staring, he failed to notice your gaze rising to the top of his head where two little antlers stood prominently next to two tufts of hair. “I can’t tell if that’s just the way your hair is styled, or if those are actually your ears,” you found yourself blurting out, focused on the pointed, furry shapes on top of his head. 

His crimson eyes flickered to you, seemingly unfazed by the interruption, though he remained eerily silent.

Nodding towards the top of his head for emphasis, you pressed further. “So? Which is it?”

“Curious little thing, aren’t we?” he mocked in a sickly sweet tone, baring his teeth in another smile. “Why do such things concern you?” 

Pursing your lips slightly and shrugging your shoulders, you replied, “Like you said… curiosity.” He released a short burst of laughter before turning his attention back to his book, not bothering to answer your question.

Unable to stop yourself, you asked, “Can I touch them?”

The look he gave you sent a shiver down your spine. His eyes flashed in what you could only assume was anger. For one brief moment, the corners of his mouth turned down into a scowl before it was quickly replaced with another toothy smile. “I don’t much care for that,” he answered, his heated gaze still focused on you. 

“You don’t much care for what? ...To be touched? You don’t like to be touched?” you found yourself babbling and repeating yourself, bemused by his statement. 

His lip curled slightly as he digested your words. “No. I do not.” 

Your face flushed with embarrassment as you looked down at your lap. What kind of person asks someone if you can just outright touch them? How intrusive, especially considering he apparently had an affliction with personal contact from other people, which honestly confused you after having recalled how many times you had seen him pressing himself against others. The past five days had allowed you to observe the strange residents inhabiting the hotel. While Charlie and Vaggie seemed to make the majority of decisions, Alastor seemed eerily quiet. He had kept his distance from you for the most part, which you assumed was either due to Charlie asking him nicely not to scare you off or Vaggie threatening to execute him like the badass that she was. He had an intriguing air about him in that he cared little for the opinions of others and simply did as he pleased. The demon seemed pretty docile in comparison to what you had seen the day he entered your mind, but you didn’t forget what he could quickly become at the drop of a hat. As much as you hated to admit it, he interested you the most out of anyone else. 

A few moments of uncomfortable silence passed between the two of you as you chewed your lip and drummed your fingers along the arm of the couch awkwardly. Not long after, Alastor relieved an annoyed sigh before he murmured, “Go on, then.” 

“What?”

Closing his book with a sharp snap , he set it down beside him, folding his hands together and turning to address you. “If it will satiate your incessant need to know what lays atop my head, you may touch me.”

Instead of immediately jumping at the chance, you resisted. “Um… that’s okay. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable just because I apparently have no sense of boundaries.”

“Darling,” he drawled, clearly amused by your reluctance. “You won’t get this opportunity again. Touch me.” 

His wording caused an involuntary hitch in your breath. You hesitated only for a moment, not wanting to miss out on what was clearly an exclusive invitation, which he didn’t often allow. His eyes fell to your mouth as you bit your bottom lip, causing him to smirk at your unease.

Quickly giving in, you sat up and kneeled on the sofa to get better access. Slowly, you reached for his head, careful to avoid the sharp tips of his antlers. 

Finally, your fingers came into contact with the top of his head. What you felt was difficult to describe. You never really thought about what animated hair would feel like. It felt very similar to actual hair, which mystified you. On top of that, his hair had an odd texture to it; wiry but soft, like actual fur, which made sense considering he was a zoomorphic being.

The intensity of his gaze felt hot against your skin as you continued to explore his mane, running your hand up along the part you were most curious about. The tall mounds on his head seemed to be a mix of ears and also hair. There weren’t any openings like a typical ear would have, but they were too stiff to be just hair.

“I still don’t know what these are,” you admitted, more to yourself than to him.

“Perhaps their purpose is simply to mystify. I was just drawn this way, I suppose,” he jested, playing off of your animation accusations. It was a concept that you had to explain to the hotel inhabitants over and over again.  Alastor was able to understand it more only because he had seen what your actual world looked like inside of your head. 

Ignoring his jab, you couldn’t stop yourself from continuing to explore the top of his head. You began to rub tenderly at a spot near the base of his ears. He then closed his eyes as your fingers worked against him. At first, you thought his eyes were closed due to disgust until you had noticed a low hum from deep in his throat. It sounded like an electrical current, but you soon determined that it had to be his own demonic version of a purr. Okay, that was fucking adorable.

“Very… peculiar,” you declared, finally retracting your hand and sitting back on the couch. 

“Are you satisfied, my dear?” he inquired with a subtle underlying meaning underneath.

“Not really,” you answered promptly. “But I’m not going to pet your head again, if that’s what you’re worried about.” 

His grin widened as he chuckled, which sounded more like static feedback than an actual laugh.

Just as you were about to return to your book, he chimed, “My turn.”

Puzzled, you asked, “Uh.. for what?” 

“It’s only fair, don’t you think? You fondled me, now I get to inspect you. A little tit for tat, hmm?” 

Gawking at him, you tried to find the words to convey your panicked emotions at that moment. “Fondled?! I didn’t… I… I don’t… what?”

“Tsk, tsk, tsk,” he clicked his tongue disapprovingly. “No reason to be nervous, sweetheart. I mean you no harm.”

His words of comfort only made you more anxious as you watched him lift himself from the couch and into a standing position. He then extended his arm and offered his hand for you to take with a wicked gleam in his eye.

Your hand was noticeably shaking as you rested it in his, allowing him to grasp it tightly as he pulled you from the couch and onto your wobbly legs. What was happening? Why was he making you so nervous? He had even told you before that if he wanted to hurt you, he would have done so by now. He hadn’t shown any prior aggression towards you, and he had been nothing but docile for the past few days. Why were you suddenly so nervous? 

Interrupting your internal turmoil, the demon stepped closer, bringing you back to the situation at hand rather than letting you get lost in your thoughts. His eyes flickered across your body from your head to your feet, his smile widening even further.

He then gently grasped a bit of your hair and twirled it slowly around his fingers, seemingly fascinated by its movement. Once he was finished, he stepped behind you. Instead of following him, you stood still, your nerves locking up your joints and preventing you from moving.

The tip of his finger rested along your right shoulder before he slowly dragged it across your back onto your left shoulder. The action caused your entire body to tremble, giving you goosebumps. 

“Calm yourself,” he whispered in your ear, making you even more nervous.

Returning to your line of view, he was once again in front of you. Swallowing thickly, you narrowed your eyes as his hands gripped your hips, bringing you closer. He then trailed a slender finger along your collarbone, down to your sternum and to the top of your breasts. 

His piercing red eyes shot up to gauge your reaction, but you managed to keep your expression neutral and your breathing even as he smirked and continued to explore.

Guiding the palms of his hands alongside your breasts, he used his thumb to lightly brush over your hardened peaks, not bothering to linger before moving on. “Quite fascinating,” he huffed, clearly enamored with you.

Were you seriously letting this thing touch your breasts? Why couldn’t you move? Why were you stuck like a deer in the headlights? Punch him! Kick him! Do something!

Unaware of your inner turmoil, he continued to grace his gloved hands further and lower until one of his hands abruptly cupped your sex, and you couldn’t take it anymore. Slapping his hand away, you barked, “That’s enough.” Narrowing his eyes, he seemed positively giddy, which infuriated you even more. “Something the matter, dear?” “You’re crazier than I thought if you think groping my crotch is the equivalent of touching your ears!” “My, my,” he scolded disapprovingly. “Such crude language is not very becoming of a precious thing like yourself. Your request was quite an intimate one. It’s only fair that it should be met with one of equal fervor, wouldn’t you agree?” “No! I would absolutely not agree! You’re delusional!” 

Cackling, he snapped his fingers and his staff appeared next to him, which he used to balance on as he eyed you with an amused expression. “I assure you, my dear. I have no nefarious intent with your body. Merely your mind.”

“The fuck is that supposed to mean?” you barked back, simultaneously embarrassed and insulted. 

He took a step closer to you, placing a finger under your chin to lift your face to meet his, which he seemed to like to do often to signify his power over you. Your initial reaction was to smack it away, but his gaze held you captive as you hung onto every word that he said. “It means, my dear girl… that you’re mine.”

Tags: @beetlewise-and-pennyjuice @edgy-drama-queen @chasingfireflies1999 @galaxy-meteor @cecidit-31 @shadowclawstudio88 @utterly-disappointing @opheliuva @trinswhimsys @skylarhedges

#alastor #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel #radio demon #alastorxreader #alastor x reader #alastor x you #alastorxyou #hazbinhotel

[faustrinus]

you're okay now

When Sirius crossed that door, he knew he wasn't going to come back, or at least he didn't plan to. No way he was going back to that place; his own hell. After he finally decided he was going to run away from home, he couldn't wait one day more, he escaped that same night while everyone was sleeping, knowing that the next morning when his parents were awake; he wouldn't be a Black anymore. He didn't care that much for his family anymore, only for Regulus. But he had to leave, the abuse, the curses, the words that have been spoken in that house drained every single drop of happiness he had, he felt empty. But now, out of that place, running through the streets, he finally felt like he could breathe again. But It wasn't a pleasant sensation that was taking over him at the same time- it felt like he condemned himself to a certain and doubtless death. Orion and Walburga were going to find him- and kill him. They would torture him until he regretted his decision, but it would be too late since he wasn't their son anymore, and he would die painfully, probably under the eyes of his younger brother. Please, please don't hurt him, he thought. The Potters' house was getting closer.

It was the only place he had, and he knew the Potters loved him more than his own family ever did, that's why he trusted they were still awake to receive him, or at least James. His best friend, his brother- he didn't even know about his plan. And now he was forced to deal with it, and Sirius felt genuinely sorry for not having another place to go. He was scared, alone, and with only his wand in hand. The lights were still on, a miracle in all the misfortune he was having. But he knew exactly what that light meant- only James was awake, probably reading or planning some dumb but still functional strategy for Quidditch. The boy always used those hours when the world was sleeping to fulfill his internal nerd wishes, like reading in silence or studying. Sirius was too scared to use the front door, afraid that Euphemia or Fleamont opened it. They were the loving parents he wished to have, and he didn't want them to see him like this, with tears threatening his vision and his hands trembling visibly. So with all the strength he had, he jumped the fence in the back, heart tumbling against his chest. "Please open, please do, please," he mumbled, knocking on the glass door of the backyard. He used to move with confidence and infinite calm, but now his movements were nervous and clumsy, he tried to call himself, but it wasn't easy when he knew exactly what going to happen if his family found him. A few seconds later James appeared, wand in hand, ready to attack whatever was trying to gain entry to his house. Of course, he didn't expect to see his best friend pale face gesturing through the class, and when he opened, Sirius entered so quickly he almost fell to the ground, still nervous, he tried to speak, but no words came out. "Padfoot? what are you doing here? it's almost one am," James was whispering, trying not to wake up his parents.

Sirius stumbled against his own words. "I... I ran away."

James dropped his wand, his mouth suddenly open, "Oh, Merlin..."

Sirius felt insecure seeing his reaction, his mind was picturing a thousand different and cruel scenarios in his mind. Scenarios where James told him he couldn't be here, where Walburga walked through the door and grabbed his arm to take him back, every scenario worse than the previous one. "I'm... I'm sorry. I had nowhere to go, Prongs! They were sleeping and... since last night... I wouldn't have lasted one day more in that house, it was killing me! I know your parents have their own problems but..."

"But they love you like their own son. You are my brother, Sirius, and you are welcomed here whenever you want. It's just that..." James patted the couch, trying to make his agitated friend calm down a little, and it seemed to work for a minute. Sirius sat down and James took place next to him, "It's just that I was surprised to see you there, in my backyard... no one else knows about this?"

Sirius shook his head. "Not even...?"

"Not even Regulus nor Remus, Peter neither."

James nodded, he noticed how Sirius was still shaking, slowly sinking in the couch as if he was trying to hide from the danger, James hated seeing him like this, so weak and afraid of everything. "Okay... So I will prepare my room, and you'll sleep here, okay? then we are going to see what we can do, I'm sure my parents won't have problems with having you here."

Sirius wanted to trust James's words, but all of that seemed so ideal. What if Walburga came right now to the house and killed his best friend? attacked the Potter's? maybe kill him on the couch he was sitting? his imagination was going stronger with every second that passed, and soon the little calm he gained during his chat with James left him. His eyes were watery again, and his head hurt as if someone was stabbing him, he couldn't control it, he was drowning, he couldn't breathe. James panicked almost as a reflex, sadly, it wasn't the first time Sirius had a panic attack, but that one seemed terrifyingly strong, he was breathing loudly and clumsily, sweat in his forehead. "Sirius, Sirius. I'm here for you, you are having a panic attack. Feel your breath... I'm here."

"I can't... I can't feel it. I'm not breathing."

"Close your eyes, relax your stomach... you are breathing, slowly. Do it with me, okay?"

Sirius tried his hardest to follow James's breathing pattern. He closed his eyes, concentrating on the silence of the place, his friend breathing, his hands holding tight the cushions of the couch.

"There you go..." James was nervous, something was telling him that the panic attack was far from ending, but at least now Sirius was breathing a little bit steadier, "I'm going to try and contact Remus, okay? wait here, keep breathing... I will be back in a second."

Sirius nodded without lifting his sight from the ground. He had to keep it together- it wasnt a good time neither a good place to breakdown. But even after all James's efforts for keeping him were helping, seeing him walking away even for a few seconds made him go into panic mode again. No, Sirius, breathe, he tried to repeat, but his voice was drowned by the sound of choking, he really felt like he was dying.

He heard James in the background, speaking, probably trying to contact Remus. The werewolf had this magic effect on the boy with the raven hair that made him feel calm in a matter of minutes, and seeing Remus would make him feel so much better, knowing that he was close, that Walburga wasnt going to kill him too- because that was probably one of the main reasons that Sirius parents had to end him, their oldest son was gay and was dating a werewolf, a werewolf named Remus Lupin. But with Remus by his side, everything was easier- what if something happened to him? what if during one of his transformations he injures himself really bad? of he gets hurt by another wizard? everything was possible, and Sirius's mind was doing its best job reminding the poor boy that he was no one from now on. Not Sirius Black, only Sirius, forever and ever. He wished his tears drowned him.

"Sirius."

And there was the angel Remus Lupin, with messy hair and wearing his favorite sweater. His gaze was full of worry, and one more time, Sirius felt guilty about making him feel that way, he didn't want to worry his friends- but he was so broken. "Remus..."

Remus crouched himself, his hands on Sirius's knees, "It's horrible what you are going through, love. But you need to breathe, okay? Just like James told you. You can hold my hands."

Before ending his sentence, Remus's hands were already being grabbed by Sirius's. He was squeezing them, but the werewolf didn't seem to mind, he was too focused on pronouncing numbers to guide Sirius breathing, and it was working, surely slowly, but it was.

James was leaning on the door frame, still concerned about his friend but happy seeing two of the people he loved the most on the planet complementing each other so perfectly. In the beginning, he couldn't understand their relationship, but later, while seeing how they stared at each other with so much love he understood. That was love, pure and healthy love that was helping them heal their bruises; both external and internal. But clearly, he felt like he was invading some intimate moment, so he left the room towards the kitchen. Maybe Sirius would like some tea when he was feeling better.

When the attack finally ended, Sirius felt like he could pass out anytime soon, but he was glad his boyfriend was there for him, smiling softly and caressing his knuckles as if they were crystal. He muttered some gentle "thank you" when Remus started cleaning his cheeks stained with tears. "It's okay. Just for you to know, I was still awake when James told me about you. You have not had a panic attack in a long time, I'm really proud of you for being able to deal with it, I can't imagine how horrible it is."

Sirius was drawing the bruises in Remus's hands, smiling softly at their texture, "I missed you, Remus. James also, and Peter too, I haven't talked with him recently."

"I'm sure James will try and contact him when he ends whatever he's doing. I'm not judging, but my tea it's better than his."

Sirius laughed a little and Remus thanked all the powerful wizards he could remember at that moment for seeing his boyfriend finally feeling better. James walked into the room, with two cups of tea in his hands, he sat next to Sirius, giving him one of the cups and the other one to Remus, "Heard you were feeling a little bit better and also heard Remus complaining about my tea-making abilities."

Remus took a sip, "I wasn't wrong."

"Hey!"

Sirius laughed but drank anyway, that's what he needed. Normality, love, his friends, James and Remus bickering in a silent living room, the only one that was missing was Peter, but they would probably reach out for him soon. "I should go and talk to my parents about you staying."

Remus bit his lip, "They won't have problems with that, right?"

James rolled his eyes while he got up from the couch, "You are doubting my parents too much. They love Sirius, and if they could have any problem I would convince them, I'm James Potter!"

"Yes, you are. Now James Potter, would you mind give me and my boyfriend some privacy?" Remus spoke again, arching an eyebrow.

"I will only because I want to. Don't forget this is my house, you lovebirds. I will also ask if Remus can stay."

James walked towards the stairs, smiling softly at his friends. Remus took his place on the couch, and Sirius automatically snuggled against him, being honest, the tea wasn't that bad, but he was feeling really tired. And the werewolf understood the gesture without words, his arm in his boyfriend's shoulders while he hummed to the crickets making noise outside.

"I don't what I'm going to do now."

"We, because you are not alone. We'll figure something out, I'm sure." Sirius yawned, "I love you a lot."

Remus left a little kiss on Sirius's hair, "I love you too. Now, rest, you need to."

The werewolf took the cup out of the boy's hands and left it on the ground, far enough not to step on it later. "You're okay now, Sirius, you're okay."

#wolfstar #wolfstarfluff #jamespotter #siriusblack #Remus Lupin #euphemia potter #james fleamont potter #fleamont potter #walburga black #orion black #regulus black #HarryPotter #fanfiction #fluff #angst

[tauruscookie]

Day 16 Siegemas: An Unusual Concoction

Before we start, I would like to tell everyone that this is my first time writing for an event like this, and I absolutely suck at writing. 

BUT! 

I'm happy I got to participate in Siegemas! Now, this story took so many turns, both good and bad, and I scrapped so many ideas before finally writing something. And for once, I feel good about this one. Do enjoy it! I had way too much fun writing this one XD! Thank you mods @dualrainbow for giving me the chance to be able to write this. Now, on to the story!

Prompt: 'Wait, did you spike the eggnog?'

—

Listening to the endless carols that played one after the others through the speakers, Bandit stood alone from the others. Studying each face that passed by, he noticed the cheerful and pleasant smiles that grew wider and wider the more each operator socialized with one another. The room was full of a joyful liveliness that couldn't be explained. 

Standing aloof from the others,  Bandit silently drank from his mug in a sense of blissful peace. Drinking the creamy liquid that held traces of both cinnamon and nutmeg, he grimaced at the taste. It wasn't any normal Eggnog he had before. Normally, it was flavored with something strong as in alcohol but in this situation, something different would suffice. And so, Bandit was on the prowl. He carelessly made his way to one of the many dessert tables. And situated in the center of the mountain of sweets was the bowl of Eggnog. 

So many ideas swam around in Bandit's mind as he tried to decipher which one was the best. Eventually, he smirked as he set his mug down before bringing out a small bag from his pocket. Then he stopped as he stared at the bag of cannabis. He wanted to make the day 'enjoyable', and ingesting cannabis will take quite a while. 

Peeking over his shoulder to ensure no one was watching him, he brought out a silver flask bottle before unscrewing the top. Pouring the alcohol into the mixture, he held a devilish smirk. For starters, he was going to add it to his own drink so he could make the night more enjoyable for himself, but maybe he could get the others both drunk and high simultaneously. Oh, it would be fun to watch them slowly lose their mind. 

Dumping the rest of his alcohol into the Eggnog, he poured every last drop of cannabis into the mixture before stirring it up. Once it was combined to the point only the creamy texture was noticeable, he snickered as he held his mug back to his lips. Happily moving away from the table, he made sure all evidence that could lead to the fact that he was 'possibly' there, was cleared. 

And so, he waited at one of the high tables so he could watch his victims line up to take a drink of his peculiar creation. Snickering gleefully at the unfortunate souls who foolishly drank from the mixture, his eyes caught sight of one of the few unfortunate souls who approached the bowl. 

Talking softly to both IQ and Finka, Blitz laughed at a cheeky joke before pouring himself a ladle of the concoction. As both IQ and Finka followed after him, he was close to sipping the liquid when a hand roughly grabbed his arm forcing him to stop midway.

   "Excuse us ladies" Bandit spoke quickly as he pulled Blitz along. 

The German was surprised at Bandit's sudden impulse. It was strange, but he didn't protest against his friend's behavior. Once far enough from the boisterous party, Bandit took his mug before pouring it out into the sink behind the bar counter. 

   "What the hell?!" Blitz cried in shock at Bandit's movement. 

He didn't even hesitate to pour the liquid down the drain. But the music drowned out his elevated voice so no one knew what was happening between the two. 

   "Trust me, you didn't want to drink that" Bandit notified as he gave a cheeky smile before setting the mug down

   "Oh? And how would you know?" Blitz inquired as he raised an eyebrow at his words. Both frustrated but truly intrigued at what got the German so worked up. 

   "Just trust me"

   "I find that very hard to do"

   "Well, today is one of those days where you'll just have to take my word for it" Bandit spoke nonchalantly as he turned around to browse through the choices of drinks behind him. 

As much as he would've loved to watch Blitz act a complete fool IF he drank the concoction, something overcame him and without thinking, he stopped him. Grabbing some ice from one of the ice trays, he dumped some of them into Blitz's mug before pouring a bottle of Schierker Feuerstein. A reddish liquid that held a bitter taste.

   "You were so quick to stop me from drinking the Eggnog, yet you're pouring me some alcohol. Why?" Blitz questioned scanning the drink before him as if searching for traces of poison

   "Just trust me, Elias. You'll want this over what's in that" Bandit explained

   "What's in it? What did you- Wait, Dominic...Did you spike the Eggnog?!" Blitz panicked as he connected the dots. 

Bandit held a sly smirk as he drank the Eggnog before it was altered into something, unusual. And that alone answered Blitz's question. He didn't know whether to laugh or be genuinely scared. If Bandit was the one to spike it, that means it's life-threatening. But he had to have an assailant. There was no way he was working alone. Was he? 

   "Who are you working with?! Max? James?" Blitz questioned hoping he could pinpoint another criminal in this twisted prank

   "Relax...I always work alone in my pranks...sometimes" Bandit smirked as he took another sip of his drink  

   "Well, in that case... are you fucking verrückt?! Do you plan on killing everyone here?!" Blitz shouted in a low voice, almost a violent whisper towards the snickering German

   "Oh relax...it takes an hour for the Cannabis to kick in" Bandit notified waving him off

   "CANNABIS?!" Blitz yelled. 

Luckily, he was saved by the music as it drowned him out. Bandit nearly choked on his drink as he felt laughter bubbling in the pits of his throat. 

   "I can't believe you, Dominic, you seriously just spiked the one drink Gilles took forever to make! He's going to rip you to shreds if he finds out you poisoned it with one of your cheap tricks!" Blitz grumbled with a sigh. Pinching the bridge of his nose, Bandit only rolled his eyes in annoyance. 

   "Oh come on! Don't act like you wouldn't have done the same if the idea came to you" Bandit scoffed as his smile slowly began to disappear

   "No, I wouldn't. Because unlike you, I care about people's emotions. And I would never poison the POLICE OFFICERS that work for Rainbow" Blitz explained emphasizing his words deliberately. 

Of course, Bandit knew there were police officers amongst Rainbow. He wasn't naive. But he was an officer himself, and he knew how to fly underneath the radar. It's one of his many talents

   "Oh please, neither Ryad nor Morowa would be able to tell the difference between cocaine or salt. And need I remind you that I too am 'an officer of the law'" Bandit scoffed 

   "A poor one at that. I'm too sober for this" Blitz grimaced as he brought the mug to his lips. 

Drinking the alcohol, he sighed as he set the mug down before rubbing his temples. 

   "Geez, you're so stiff. No wonder people hate the police. You guys are so boring. Ugh, relax Mr. Esel, Cannabis won't kill them. I didn't even add that much. Just half the bag"

   "Half the bag?! Du verdammter Idiot! I'm talking to a psychopath" 

   "And this psychopath just saved you from getting both drunk and high...well, saved you from getting high" Bandit explained gesturing to his drink. 

Pouring more of the alcohol into Blitz's mug, Bandit popped himself a beer since he was finished drinking his Eggnog. Taking a small swig of his beer, he smirked as he began to see his 'cheap trick' unfolding before his very eyes.

   "And the fun, begins" Bandit smirked gesturing towards the swaying Canadian. 

He could tell the effects were kicking in as he saw most operators began to drift from certain conversations. 

   "You are indeed a handful" Blitz sighed turning back to look at his mug

   "Who else is going to be the one who creates the excitement around here? Damn sure none of you nagging stiche. All of you are so boring. Always got a stick up your arsch" Bandit complained rolling his eyes as he took another sip from his beer

   "If I always have a stick up my ass, why didn't you let me drink the Eggnog then?" Blitz questioned staring up at the German. 

As he asked the question, Bandit stopped. Why didn't he? As before, it would be hilarious to watch him act deranged and slur his words. But something told him to spare the other German. Why? Bandit can't begin to answer that question.

   "I-I don't know...guess you wouldn't be no fun high" Bandit answered shrugging his shoulders

   "Oh? So you're saying I'm fun when I'm not high?"

   "Don't push your luck. You're...tolerable" 

   "And how would you know? I could be loads of fun" Blitz smirked propping himself along the counter. 

That sly smirk grew along Bandit's lips as he moved down along the counter. Positioning himself in front of Blitz, he stared into those blue orbs. Quite frankly, he couldn't help but become lost in them. Something about the faint tint of teal and cobalt mesmerized him. 

   "Judging by the way you reacted, you would be a stick in the arsch with or without the drugs" Bandit replied, not breaking eye contact

   "Guess we'll have to find out" Blitz smiled

   "Is this rebellion I sense?"

   "Could be"

   "Oh? And since when has the saint of all things righteous decided to suddenly turn bad? You know, drugs are a sin" Bandit joked as he took a final sip of his beer

   "Who said I'm a saint?"

   "Everyone you hang our around...' the brave and righteous Elias Kötz would never drink, let alone do drugs. He never lets anything harmful tamper with his body'" Bandit mimicked as he spoke in a voice rougher than his own. 

Blitz snickered as a faint smile came to his lips as Bandit tried to mimic a few of their superiors as he explained how fair and virtuous Blitz was. Pulling out a carton of cigarettes, he brought out a lighter as he placed the brownish end of the material in his mouth. Lighting the other end, a small flame appeared as it charred away at the white section of the cigar. 

   "You know, Six did say no smoking inside the building" Blitz added

   "There he is! Mr. Esel is back! Was waiting until you'll finally turn into that jackass of a mother again" Bandit joked before the cigarette was removed from his lips. 

Shocked at the sudden action, he went to protest but Blitz's smirk silenced him. Turning it around, Blitz placed the cigarette against his lips before inhaling a gentle whiff of smoke. He blew a soft puff of the chemical into Bandit's direction with a prideful smirk.

Without coughing or choking on the lack of air, the German continued to hold that prideful smirk which told Bandit he wasn't naive to the idea of a cigarette. Placing it back into Bandit's lips, Blitz's smirk only grew wider as he stood up from the counter. 

   "How's that for a jackass?" Blitz whispered as he leaned against the counter so he was mere inches away from Bandit

   "Who would've thought that Elias Kötz smokes. Never I" Bandit whispered swishing the cigarette around so he could inch closer

   "I'm full of surprises"

   "Indeed you are..." 

   "I hope you have an excuse for Six when she finds out you've done this to her Christmas party." Blitz giggled as he poured himself some more of the Schierker Feuerstein

   "That's only if you tell" 

   "It's not me who's going to tell. People might put two and two together. Cause when things break, you're likely the cause of it. And I won't hesitate to 'persuade them in the right direction'" Blitz smirked as he took a sip from his mug while flashing a playful smirk towards him. One that sent Bandit's heart fluttering to the point he couldn’t stifle a laugh no longer. Sending a wink, he released the cigarette to blow a small puff towards his direction. 

   "By all means...please do so. I enjoy the danger" Bandit grinned

   "Oh trust me, I know you do" Blitz smirked as stared at the German, "You are one crazy man" Blitz giggled

   "And yet, you keep coming back for more” Bandit smiled to which made  Blitz laugh softly. 

Collecting his mug, he turned around before moving through the crowd to socialize with the sober ones. Some already lost it and began talking a feverish nonsense that no one could understand. Bandit didn't even realize he was blushing until he felt the warmth along his cheeks. Blitz was surely different. Removing his cigarette, he smiled as he stared at the end where Blitz's lips made contact. 

 "Maybe this princess has a fun side after all" Bandit snickered as he continued smoking as he watched his whole prank unfold before his very eyes. It was indeed an enjoyable night, and it got even better when karaoke came around. He has never laughed so hard before. 

This wasn't supposed to be this long but somehow...it's longer than expected. Anyways! I hope you enjoyed it! 

#rainbowsixsiege #party #r6 #rainbow6 #r6s #rainbow 6 siege #siegemas 2020 #Bandit/Blitz #drugs usage #spiked drinks #siegemas

[thesaltyace]

big rant/ramble below, you can safely ignore and move on to the next post in your feed.

Urgh

I shared the results of that autism screener with a quasi-friend who I thought would be "safe" (we used to work together and we connected over his being gay and me being visibly queer) but his response was blergh

Everyone has hints of autism.

okay yeah but this isn't just *hints* of autism. I'm answered yes to symptoms I've had since I was a kid that I've learned to mask or work around as an adult. But I still struggle with them.

He pointed out that he sees me as more ADHD than ASD.

Yeah, fair, and I'd need to see a professional to try to distinguish if my symptoms are ADHD, ASD, or both.

You don't hit the three prongs needed for a diagnosis.

But.... but I do. And the stuff I dealt with as a kid is still stuff I deal with today. I just mask it better. A short and not exhaustive list:

As I kid I had trouble interacting with peers. I didn't have friends, really. I didn't know how to make friends and I didn't try terribly hard to. I acquire friends when someone else "adopts" me and decides that we are friends. And once I became an adult, I have almost never had friends of my own - I share a friend group with my spouse who we're primary connected to through him. I'm okay with that. Maintaining a friendship entirely on my own power sounds impossible and exhausting.

I was okay with not having friends, I liked being alone, but my mom insisted on me being social. She made me join things so that I would have a list of people to invite to parties. I'd honestly have preferred a day of doing stuff I like or just a couple friends. As an adult, I want to be alone on my birthday. I will celebrate with certain friends, separately, usually over a quiet meal. That's it.

I had trouble understanding sarcasm and figurative speech. Like, I understand it now but I still think most figurative speech is annoying. I've been told the way I deliver sarcasm is weird, too.

I liked memorizing movies and quoting them start to finish, I thought it was fun but everyone else thought it was weird. I continued to do this into adulthood but I only quote aloud when I'm alone. Alamo Drafthouse quote-alongs are the BEST. I don't do this with every movie, either, just ones I really like.

Okay actually I also liked to listen to the same album or, in some cases, the same song over and over until I was sick of it (and sometimes even after that point). I mean, just endlessly looping on repeat. Not interspersed with other songs. I do this as an adult a LOT because it's easier with headphones to do this without annoying everyone else around you. Like, often it's fine for me to just put a playlist on shuffle, but I get into Moods where I just want the one album/song over and over. Yesterday I listened to Wellerman about 50 times in a row and only stopped because I had to get up and do something else and that song wasn't "good" for whatever I got up to do.

My special interest as a kid was cats. Literally everything cats, all the time - I sought out obscure facts and could tell you the difference between similar species, and wanted cats involved in literally everything I did. Adults laughed it off as childhood obsession. I was also pretty obsessed with the solar system. I thought asking my peers, as a trivia question, which of Jupiter's moons had its own asteroid (Io, in case you were wondering) was appropriate and interesting and was confused that they didn't know that. That was in fifth grade.

I watched the weather channel for fun. I would watch it for hours and absorb the weekly forecast info just... for fun? I never used it, could never tell you if you should dress a certain way or bring an umbrella or whatever. Everyone thought it was weird.

I was a know-it-all and literally could not stop myself from bluntly correcting people who were wrong. Didn't know or care that it was "rude". I'm still that way but I've learned how to sometimes swallow the urge long enough to find a more tactful way to point it out (but often fail).

I could read on my own before kindergarten, used vocabulary beyond what one would expect for my age, and had a special interest in spelling and grammar throughout my school years. I did not understand how other people weren't interested in learning about it and getting it right. I read at an undergrad level by 4th grade.

I hated loud noises and often covered my ears to block out irritating sounds. I could also hear high pitched noises that even other kids didn't seem to hear (or at least weren't bothered by them). Too much noise sent me into an internal meltdown, I'd just kinda shut down because I couldn't deal with it.

Textures and pressure on my skin bothered the absolute fuck out of me - sock seams, certain fabric materials, socks that weren't equally elastic, one shoe tighter than the other, tags.... all of that. (Also, fun anecdote I just unlocked - when I was 4 or 5 my grandmother started letting me use the soft silk sleep shirt she had as a young woman because I preferred it to anything else. Soft, smooth, no irritating qualities. Bliss. I wanted to wear it all the time.)

Don't get me started on food. Until I was in COLLEGE I mostly subsisted on pasta with either butter or alfredo sauce and chicken. I would eat other things, but pasta and/or chicken was (and still is) my biggest safe/comfort food. I'd eat other stuff mostly if I could control the balance of ingredients, get it made plain, or could confirm the texture wouldn't be offensive (so, like... plain burgers, plain cheese pizza, grilled cheese, mashed potatoes, etc.) I cannot stress this enough - from childhood through COLLEGE I did this. As a kid my mom had to make me a completely separate dish most nights to get me to eat something. My spouse was horrified at what little variety I ate. The only reason I eat so much variety now is that he knows what I do/don't like and tells me in advance if I'll find a texture or taste offensive. Of course, rather than wanting consistent texture like I did when I was younger, I now seek as much texture as possible (so long as they aren't Bad textures) so.... that's fun. But yeah most of my objections to Yucky foods is due to T E X T U R E. Even if I like the taste, the texture overrides it all.

I prefer animals to people. I will seek out animals and interact with them instead of people in the same room. And will pointedly focus on the animal to avoid interacting with people.

I'm perfectly happy with only myself for company. Being with just my spouse counts as me being "alone" though. Always has. I just realized last night that it's because I do minimal to no masking around him because he's a safe person to unmask with and always has been. Never batted an eye at the weird shit I do beyond asking questions about what I was doing or why. And then just "Okay."

Okay honestly just the fact that I want to vent into the void of tumblr instead of actually discussing this with a person - even my spouse! - pretty effectively shows how little it occurs to me to interact with other people directly. o_0

And there are so many more things that I won't list here because I could just go on and on. And like, sure, some of this may certainly overlap with ADHD but my point is that I have enough to point to ASD that it doesn't feel like having a "hint" of autism. And who knows - maybe it is mostly just ADHD and CPTSD stuff interacting in weird ways. Could be!

But just because I can make small talk and make eye contact and do the "normal" shit and I can interact "normally" doesn't mean I LIKE it. I had to LEARN to do those things to avoid having bad social interactions. When I'm by myself or with my spouse, I behave very differently than I do around anyone else. ANYONE. It's not just slightly changing my behavior depending on who I'm with - it's completely suppressing how I naturally would do things if left to my own devices.

Like, the things we recommended to our autistic students who wanted to know how to interact in ways that would help them blend in/be accepted by others ARE THE EXACT THINGS I ALREADY DO. Like, it did not occur to me at the time that neurotypicals literally do not have to think about doing those things. I thought, ah, these students just need to be told what the tricks are. Other people figure these tricks out on their own. It did not occur to me that other people, in fact, do not learn these tricks because they naturally do that behavior. They do not have to actively think about learning the trick, period. I literally thought other people also have to think as hard as I do about interactions. Evidently not.

So yeah, I'm feeling a little upset about the reaction I got from him because I'm like.... honestly, a diagnosis of ASD wouldn't change a lot about how I do things or think of things. But it would make me feel better about interacting with and participating in autism-related stuff if I am actually autistic. I realize I can use the resources and supports meant for ASD regardless, and for formal supports anything I can access due to my ADHD diagnosis likely covers anything I'd need for ASD. But having a diagnosis opens up more community. Right now I'm like yeah I'm ADHD but I totally relate to this ASD content. But I'm not going to interact much because I feel like I don't have the right to join in since idk if I do have ASD.

idk I have a lot of feelings. I had a bad email about the trans insurance coverage thing yesterday and I'm not in a great headspace, but finding out me and my spouse both scored very high on the autism screening stuff was honestly a high point because we ended up sharing a lot of how we view and interact with the world that was very eye-opening about why we interact the way we do, how we relate to others (and how other people think we're weird for how we relate to others), and just...everything. And having someone be skeptical after I've spent a lot of time trying to convince myself that I DON'T have ASD only to conclude that at the very least, I should probably be evaluated because I can't reasonably rule it out. Like, most people do not wonder if they have autism. The fact that I am spending this much time looking into it and trying to find examples to disprove it only to find I overwhelmingly can't in virtually every single diagnostic category.... just..... dismissing it outright is kinda hurtful.

Like, I recognize that ADHD symptoms overlap a fair bit, but seriously. My spouse (who definitively does not have ADHD) scored almost identically to me and we vibed on almost everything when we compared answers. We see most things similarly. We have similar areas of confusion about other people and for fundamentally similar reasons. I can't imagine all of the stuff that points to ASD for me is just ADHD in disguise, not when I vibe THAT HARD with someone else. Spouse does not vibe with me on ADHD content. At all. He can appreciate it since he does live with me, after all, and observes whatever's being discussed. But he doesn't vibe with it. He vibes with autism content, though. And I vibe with both.

idk this rant ended in rambling and I'm just going to go listen to Inside on repeat for a couple hours while I try to calm down a bit. o_0

#rant over #for now #I've actually been listening to Inside for the last twenty minutes already lol #maybe I'll try to nap #idk #blergh #yay Shit is playing now and I'm like LOL cause I did wake up at 11:30 feeling like shit #woot #what a bop #I'm like hell yeah you get it #let's vibe

[softwarmboy]

1. Museum date or aquarium date? Why?

Aquarium!!! I’ll always take the option with animals

2. Describe your favorite type of weather.

Cloudy, cool, slight cold breeze, smell of fall leaves and campfire, maybe some light fog 👌🏼👌🏼

3. Name a subject/topic you know a lot about.

Halo and TSC!!!

4. Do you have any friends or know anyone with the same name as you?

I’ve only met 2 other Baileys, one was an absolute dick and the other was just as quiet and shy as me so we never spoke 😂

5. What’s something most people love that you hate?

Avocado 😂 it’s a texture thing for me

6. Who knows the most about you personally?

That ones kinda hard to answer??? I’ve changed a lot over the last 3 years but probably @gemder and my last 2 ex’s

7. If you could create ANY mix-up or mythical animal and have it be brought to life, what would it be?

Dragons!! I was OBSESSED as a kid

8. Do you think everyone in our lives serves a purpose, or are some people just there?

I think we choose who’s in our lives! Some teach us good lessons and some teach us bad ones! But a lesson nonetheless!

9. How do you feel about getting your picture taken?

Mixed feelings ;-; candid ones are nice cuz they usually turn out better cuz I don’t have the chance to be awkward 😂

10. Any guilty pleasure/s?

Oh god so many 😂😂😂😂

11. What is your favorite Studio Ghibli film and why?

My Neighbor Totoro! Literally just cuz it was cute asf

12. Do you always make eye contact with people when you’re speaking to them?

I try to! That’s always been a struggle for me cuz I’m self conscious as fuuuuck but I’m getting better!

13. Have you ever self-harmed?

Yes, many many times ;-;

14. What’s the nicest compliment you’ve ever been given?

That I have the most beautiful eyes!!!

15. Have you felt butterflies in your stomach today?

A lil!!!

16. Did anyone/anything get on your nerves today?

My alarm 😂😂😂

17. Is there something you currently want, that you can’t have?

Not that I can think of???

18. Who was the last person to make you feel embarrassed or uncomfortable?

Honestly, myself

19. Think of the last film you watched. Who was your favorite character in it?

The last movie I watched was Brother Bear and my favourite character is Tanana!!

20. What are you known for?

Being kind, gentle, quiet and patient

21. What is something you are skeptical about?

Religion, really anything like that, that I can’t see or hear, I WANT to believe in things like that but I have a hard time

22.If you have a job, do you prefer morning shifts or evening shifts?

I do, but there are no shifts 😂 but when I did work a job with shifts, I preferred morning! Left me more of my day to enjoy

23. What is something you are most confident about?

How about something you're really insecure about?

For confidence, that I don’t exist to please others, for insecurities, oh GOD so many

24. What do you think in general of girls with short hair? How about guys with long hair?

Whatever floats your boat!!!

25. With films in languages you do not speak, do you prefer a dub or a subtitle?

I’m fine with either!! Once I see it a certain way tho that’s the only way I’ll be able to watch that specific thing

26. If you wear makeup, what are your preferred brands?

I don’t!

27. What part of a person's body do you usually find the most attractive?

Eyes and lips!!

28. What/which music are you currently listening to?

Zero to Hero from Hercules 😂😂😂😂

29. Do you find smoking unattractive?

Yes and no??? I don’t really know how to explain it, I’ve lost grandparents to cancer from smoking, and watched it happen slowly but it’s your choice really 🤷‍♂️

30. What was the last thing you looked up on Google?

ADHD symptoms in adults 😂😭

31. What is the 10th picture in your phone gallery?

A screenshot of jokes about Canada 😂

32. Would you ever dye your hair an unnatural color?

Yeah! I have!! Many many times

33. What job would you be terrible at and what job would you be good at?

For terrible, being a server 😂😂😂 for being good, teaching I think!!

34. Do you think forgiveness is mandatory to move on from something?

Yes BUT not necessarily forgiving whoever messed up

35. What did you think was cool when you were younger?

Motorcycles, tattoos, piercings 😂

36. Is there a place that makes you sad to return to?

So, so many ;-;

37. What's the best advice anyone has ever given you?

Care, but don’t carry

38. Have you ever treated someone badly just because someone else treated you badly?

Not?? That I know of??? I really don’t believe in it

39. What's your favorite lyric from your favorite song right now?

Oh god uhhhhh off the top of my head I really don’t know???

40. What was the last thing that completely took your breath away?

It’s been a while but Whistler!!!

41. Is it true that if you can't love yourself, you can't love another?

I don’t think so, I’ve loved people without loving myself. Loving someone else and loving yourself are two different things

42. What's the most positive thing you could say to yourself right now?

One day at a time 💙 and one thing/problem at a time

43. What time of the day feels the most magical to you?

Night!! It’s quiet, no one expects anything of me, I have nowhere to be and nothing to do

44. Were you a cute baby?

I was SUCH a cute baby 😂😂😂

45. Is there something you wish you had said sorry for, but never did?

I don’t?? Think so??? Usually if I wanna apologize for, I will cuz it’ll literally physically bug me till I do

46. What is any creative talent you wish you had?

Painting 😂😂😂 I can’t paint artistically for shit

47. Do you think you'd make a good teacher? Why or why not?

Yes!! I’m patient and remember to teach the lil details and tricks! Teaching is actually my career goal!

48. Do you think it's possible to fix a "broken" relationship?

Hmmmm, depends what broke it

49. If you chose to get a tattoo what would it be and where would you want it?

I already have 5 😂😂😂😂 I’d want some Runes, some Halo stuff, some forest stuff, some nerd stuff

50. When was the last time you stayed up past midnight and what were you up to?

A couple weekends ago, I was gaming!!

@sagittated there ya go!!!

#personal #it me #baileys life #ask bailey #ask meme

[monochromemedic]

Ok but what if Fallon was a twitch streamer

Fallon tapped away at his computer, adjusting his large expensive camera that was pointed at his face, and checked his soundboard for quick commands. He didn’t have any plans for today. He didn’t usually, unless a game came out.  Sometimes he’d talk, sometimes he’d do something crazy and unusual for the stream but most of the time, it was games. He took a quick look at himself in the camera one last time, slid on his sunglasses and started the stream, sending out notifications and a wait screen for people to gather. Of course it didn’t take long. Some people knew Fallon’s schedule like it was integrated in their soul. Others were just quick on the notifications he supposed. As soon as he saw a few people get in he tapped his pencil and began to view possible things from the list of things he had written down. A few minutes later and the chat was bumping. Inside memes, emotes flying, general talk and talk about Fallon himself was rampant. It only flew by faster as he unmuted his mic. “Hey guys, welcome. How’s it going?” He gave a little laugh when chat blew up, and only made people spam an emote he had that was used when Fallon was usually astonished or flustered by chat. He would always give a laugh when people responded so quick and fast. He was amazed at the following he had. “Good? Have a nice meal? Nice weather? Oh what’s that? That a link to- to my face on a ice cream and chat eating it that’s great, won’t give me nightmares.” He chattered before stretching and switching the camera to his face. “Hey. So I’ll be honest. Haven’t a clue what to do today. BUT. Isn’t that how most of our best streams go?” He raised his hands a little before putting them behind his head, swerving a bit in his gamer chair. “So what do we do. Any suggestions? Maybe we’ll just talk and have a bunch of mini things to do.” He looked a chat, swarming with suggestions, some he remembered that he promised to do, mostly joke ones, and some that alot of people were doing. “No taking shoes off, no... you gotta pay for my premium- not even Onlyfans, it’s Onlystans, Onlysimps. It’s like a cult you gotta make a blood sacrifice to get in. There’s like... only 3 other people on the site but you know what the managers there, real sweet.” He chuckled a bit at the reaction of the chat before sliding back up to the computer and starting up a few things people suggested. “Alright how about some shitty games. We’re doing that today, just the absolute bottom of the barrel. See how long it takes to tear our eyes out. Actually you know what.” He sat back in the chair again, hand on his chin. “I’ve seen... alot of shitty games. That just reuse the same assist. Cause you know their pumping this shit out trying to get a quick buck so how about this. We play a few crappy games, and then we go into a certain subgenre. Some real popular thing right now, like a FNAF. And we get some of those and we see how much is recycled and we get a drinking game out of it. Hell we’re look at a few to look at together make a bingo sheet of drinks!” He proclaimed Chat seemed to like that with the amount of pogchamps in the chat. Other people told him that he’d be dead in 10 minutes. “Hey if I get drunk, I get drunk! I don’t anything to do today, do you? I mean if you do maybe get a orange juice or something don’t get plastered. I get paid to get plastered. I get to be the dancing monkey.”  He went to a site and told chat to begin choosing a few and making stuff to go on the bingo card while he got some beers. And soon they had a list of games and a complete bingo card. Some of the games were pretty good in all honesty. Well considering they were trash. Although there was always something in them that made chat go mad with laughter.  A glitch, a funky texture, and later on the reoccurring assets. Soon he was plastered, his face red and sweaty, hair a mess as he tried not to lose his mind over the shitty model of a monster that slid across the ground. People were clipping it, making fun of him for laughing and saying how he was gonna piss his pants with how much he was laughing. It was only when someone in chat called him cute did he  pull his hoodie over a part of his face and paused the game. “No don’t call me cute, I got like... snot runnin down my face and like... i’m on the edge of just barfing.” A few people in the chat agreed, sending him hearts while others teasingly insulted him with jokes like how big of a chin and nose he had, and how ratty his hair was. He was in the middle of laughing and blushing as he waved  at the camera, people calling him handsome and cute. “Nah we gotta... we gotta look at this bear man this ain’t about me i mean look at the funny bear! I mean look at the funny fucking bear.” He sat back up and turned switched the camera to another wait screen, one with a little pair of sunglasses being wiped down that he used when he needed to take his glasses off, and began to wipe his eyes from the tears.  As he wiped down his glasses that were covered in sweat and tears he saw something out of the corner of his eyes in chat. ‘i’m new here, what’s with this guy and the sunglasses?’ A mod sent a command to a bot that spewed out a message, and he realized he hadn’t talked about it in a while. Well uh, as far as he could remember in his little haze. “I saw... someone in chat ask about the glasses.” He began, forgetting to turn his camera on before quickly changing it back, glasses back on his face. “I mean it’s in the description but... I haven’t said it in a while and like maybe I should just for... people who don’t read.” He said with a little snort. A few people in chat started to explain while others just gave a ‘they don’t know’ and a custom emote of Fallon with his glasses down and question marks for eyes. “Um... so. God I shouldn’t explain things while drunk. Uh. I know I put in the description don’t ask, and if you keep bugging me about it I ban or silence you for a while, and i know that’s a bitch move on my part. But i’ll give you some... Fallon lore. I know I might have said this a looong time ago but i’ll just say it again. Realsies, no jokes. Um...” He checked chat again, who were now slowing down, a bit quiet waiting for him to talk. “I uh... I got some problem with eye contact? Like I mention that too in the descripty... but like it’s real... real bad. It’s not like uncomfortable I know that’s what you all think I just get uncomfortable but it’s nooott.... that. I... freak the fuck out. Don’t know why. Just feel like shit when I do, hate being stared at without my glasses, hate looking at people back without em. So I wear sunglasses, the really dark ones, so I can see you, and you can see me, but we don’t like... see each other ya... know? Uh it feels like, the world is looking down at me, and I feel like shit and garbage, and just like... the worst disappointment so yeah-” He gave a little laugh and watched the chat who were spamming hearts and understanding messages. He probably would appreciate it more if he wasn’t plastered but he did stare at the chat for a while just watching the messages fly by. He had to take a second before shaking his head and blinking, before looking back at the game. “Won’t lie, I just stared into like the 6th dimension there. Sorry. Uh... thank you for the nice messages this is... stupidly nice. For ... what’s on the screen right now. You’re all super kind. Honestly this is why I do dumb shit like this and I talk to you about this stuff because you guys aren’t... assholes. You under- well... maybe not understand me at times but you at least put up with my bullshit and like me and you know if I can give even a little bit of love and appreciation back in some form. With dumb jokes and playing shit games it’s ... it’s the least I can do.” He slurred, before sliding back into his seat and taking a swig of water. “Alright let’s get back to the game, I bet some of you aren’t as plastered as you could be. If I don’t see one of you message me, and be like ‘Fallon, I just saw god when I went to go take a piss, i’m suing your ass’ I’m... i’ll be disappointed I don’t know about you guys. He continued to play for a some time, switching to water so he didn’t pass out and eventually ending the stream on a rather sweet note, with a few people saying how they couldn’t wait for the next stream. With the stream off he watched the chat die down into nothing, wiping his brow and smiling before shutting it all down.  His family might have given up on him, and seeing how he lived probably would make them upset. But he honestly didn’t care, he knew that at least he was good in a few peoples eyes.  And that’s all that mattered to him.

#fallon's tag

[under-the-blue-sun]

(more than just a) summer fling

summary:  dan howell absolutely despises the beach. but maybe a model named phil can help him out with that.

word count: 3489

rating: teen & up for swearing, but it’s mostly just fluff

warnings: profanity

note: abwug7te6fighi i wrote this ages ago for the @phandomficfests‘s bingo with the prompt summer fling but i forgot to post it so uh...here it is i guess? enjoy! <3

read on ao3

If there was one thing Dan knew for certain, it was that he hated the beach.

Sure, it may seem kind of ironic because his family literally lived in a beach house, but he despised everything about the beach. He hated the sand, the saltwater, the traffic that would pile up for kilometres outside his home, everything.

He was not alone in this. His family also hated the beach. In fact, when his mother woke them all up one morning and announced that they were heading the beach, Dan almost burst out into laughter. The idea of his family going to the beach in summer was ridiculous and unfathomable Dan thought it was a joke at first, until he looked at his mum's expression. He was even more shocked when he saw his father nodding along. His father for one was extremely cynical against the commercialism and the crowded nature of their local beach in the hot weather and his mother would constantly complain about the overrated nature of the beach which would cause traffic, little to no parking and the loud parties which meant no one could sleep through the night. He doubted his little brother Adrian had even gone to the beach with his family in his life. The last time Dan remembered going was when he was six, when he threw up in the sea because he swallowed too much seawater, something his family will never let him live down. Dan shook his head to get rid of the embarrassing flashback and he snapped back to the present.

"We're doing what?" Adrian asked incredulously.

"Don't pretend you didn't hear me, Adrian. We're going to the beach." their mother replied.

"But why?" Dan questioned.

"And...and what?" Adrian added.

Their father slammed his newspaper down. "Your mother is right. You two boys have hardly been outside for the entirety of this summer, playing video games and scrolling through social media and whatnot. You need a bit of fresh air."

Dan and Adrian both groaned. Dan desperately did not want to go to the beach. The beach really did have everything he hated. The texture of the sand made him uncomfortable, the sea brought back bad memories and the people were abnormally too loud and happy. Plus, he would be forced to dress in skimpy clothes which made him feel way too exposed when his normal fashion choice was a black hoodie and a pair of black jeans. Call him emo, but he did not want to go to the beach.

Unfortunately, both brothers had no choice in the matter. After eating breakfast, their mother and father forced them to get ready and by afternoon they were both awkwardly standing in the beach, mats and sunscreen in hand.

“I bags the blue mat.” Adrian demanded. Dan shrugged and gave it to him.

“I don’t really care.” Dan replied, whipping out his sunglasses with plans to catch up on some missed sleep that afternoon. That plan was immediately foiled by his father.

“Get off the mat, Daniel, and give it to your mother.” his father yelled from the parking lot. 

And that was how Dan ended up sitting down on some rocks near the end of the beach, contemplating life and existence.

He could see Adrian in the distance, playing ball with his friends, having a particular sort of happiness about him that made Dan almost envious. His parents were merely tiny dots in the horizon, lost among the other spots and speckles amongst the beach. Dan sighed, lost in his melodramatic and existential thoughts.

“Sorry sir, I’m afraid that you have to move slightly. You are just in our picture.”

Dan looked to see the voice and saw that it was a man with headphones and a shirt that said “CREW”. He realised that there was a whole photoshoot happening to his right which he didn’t even notice. Oops.

“Uh, of course. Move to my left?” Dan asked awkwardly.

The man nodded. “Yes, thank you sir. My deepest apologies.”

Dan opened his mouth to reply, but the man already went off to attend the photoshoot. He could see him gesturing the model to climb on the rocks. Interested in this endeavour now, Dan turned to watch.

The model truly was stunning, there was no doubt about that. His pale, snow-white skin pleasantly contrasted with his jet black hair styled up in a quiff. Blue eyes almost blended in with the horizon and the sky, pupils seemingly perceiving something in the far distance.

Yes, there was no doubt this model was beautiful. If Dan saw this photo in the shops, he would definitely be looking at the man more than he would be admiring the brown trench coat he was advertising for. 

Dan was definitely staring now, but he almost didn’t notice. He was now lost in the sea of blue, his wonderful ocean eyes, his time and place had been forgotten. That was until the model turned his face to inspect Dan, confused and intrigued.

Fuck, wank, fuck. What do I do now?

Panicking internally, Dan turned and winked at the guy. Oh god, what have I done now? The model turned a pleasant shade of pink and faced away from Dan.

To avoid any more awkward encounters, Dan took out his book and began to read. His eyes could not stay on the book, and he had that unstoppable urge to look at the model. He quickly glanced up from his novel, seeing that the model was staring at him. It was now Dan’s turn to blush, fully turning away from the photoshoot now.

Minutes, hours and some sort of time might have passed, but Dan was unsure, too lost in his own thoughts to have a perception of time. The next thing he knew, he felt a tap on his shoulder. Dan turned around, thinking it was his mum or dad, but suddenly made eye contact with the model from earlier. 

He was out of his trench coat now, dressed in more casual clothes. However, he was just as good-looking, his denim shorts bringing out the blue in his eyes.

Dan could see up close that his eyes were a mixture of blue, green and yellow, somehow making the person more attractive. The guy grinned at him, making Dan swoon.

“I saw you staring at me earlier.” he said. Dan raised his eyebrows.

“You too.” Dan pointed out. The model laughed.

“Touché. Hey, how’s about we go out for lunch?” he asked.

“Moving quickly, are we...” Dan’s voice trailed off as he realised he didn’t know his name. The model chuckled.

“Lester. Phil Lester. And you are?” 

“Dan Howell. Look, Lester, not going to lie, you are hot and all -“

“You think I’m hot?” Phil interrupted. Dan rolled his eyes.

“Look, the thing is, I do don’t normally go off with random boys I meet on the beach.” Dan said.

“There’s always a first.” Phil pointed out. 

Dan sighed. “No.”

“Please? I might even give you a free kiss.” Phil said.

"A free kiss? That is an unmissable deal." Dan said, shaking his head while fighting back a smile.

"Isn't it?" Phil said, winking.

“Well, I guess I’m going to have to take you to court for abduction.” Dan replied, taking Phil’s hand to so he could get up on the pavement.

Phil grinned. "At least I have experience in looking good for the mugshot," he quipped back. Dan smirked.

"So, model boy, any plans for where you want to go?" Dan asked. Phil shrugged.

"How does fish and chips sound?" Phil replied.

"Sounds great."

On the way to the fish and chips restaurant, Dan learnt three things. Firstly, Phil was only seventeen despite looking a lot older and more mature which Phil immediately took offense at. The second thing he learnt is that he was from Britain and that he came all the way to America just to get a photoshoot done.

"I'm from Britain too. I moved here when I was ten, but the accent still stayed." Dan said.

"It's good to meet a fellow Brit from all the way across the seas."

"Well, it is the land of the free."

The third thing he learnt was that Phil wanted to keep his model career for as long as he can, and then use that status to get into his dream job as a weatherman.

"A weatherman? Why?" Dan asked, bewildered with Phil's dream.

"Weathermans are cool!" Phil said defensively. Dan rolled his eyes.

"Sure they are, Lester." Dan replied. Phil continued to protest until they reached the fish and chips store, where they managed to secure the last seat at the very back.

"Well, I've talked all about me, Howell. What's to learn about you?" Phil asked. Dan shrugged.

"Nothing much really. I'm pretty uninteresting." Dan said. Phil leaned closer to Dan. Dan's heartbeat quickened. He could see every detail of Phil's face now, from his light freckles to the shape of his lips.

"You're pretty cute for an uninteresting person." Phil said, gazing into Dan's eyes. Dan immediately went red and looked away, ignoring Phil's smug face.

To Dan's relief, the waiter quickly came by to take their order. Being an intelligent man, Dan tactfully used this opportunity to change the uncomfortable way the conversation was going.

"So...Mr Lester...what made you want to become a model anyway?" Dan asked, running a hand through his hair. Phil squirmed in his seat.

"Don't call me...that. That's my dad's name." Phil said after a long pause.

Dan smirked. "I thought you wanted to be a weatherman."

"They're not addressed like that!" Phil protested.

"The question at hand?" Dan said, raising his eyebrow. Phil shrugged.

"I had been modelling since I was young, I guess. My mother would always make me and my brother Martyn go for these photoshoots just for a bit of fun. Then a clothing brand, Burberry I think, contacted us and invited me to do a collection with them. And the rest is history I guess," Phil replied.

"So from then on you just became a part time model?" Dan asked, intrigued.

Phil sighed heavily. "Sometimes it feels more like a full time job, to be honest." he answered. Dan tilted his head.

"What do you mean?" Dan inquired.

"Modelling takes up a hell lot of my time. I always seem to be at photoshoots, 24/7. Often I find I have to do homework on set in between shoots. I mean, I love modelling but I definitely prioritize school, you know? I don't know." Phil said in a wistful tone. Dan nodded in agreement.

"Yeah, I agree. Like - well - obviously it's not, like, a full time job, but I am involved in the local theatre company and half the time -"

"Theatre company. Of course you're a theatre kid." Phil interrupted.

"What?" Dan replied. Phil laughed and shook his head.

"Never mind. Sorry, go on." Phil answered.

"And half the time I'm rehearsing or practicing and the other half of the time I have to do work and assignments and study for tests. It's like I have no free time for myself. And I honestly really enjoy theatre, but it takes up a lot of my time." Dan replied.

"What musical are you doing?" Phil asked.

"Bring it On. There's a lot of dancing, but I'm Randall the DJ so I kind of just stand there and watch everyone do exercise." Dan said. Phil gasped.

"Wait, wait, I know that musical! It's composed by Lin-Manuel Miranda, isn't it?" Phil replied.

Dan nodded in response. Phil gasped again.

"I wanna see you do it!" Phil whined. Dan laughed.

"You wouldn't be able to, Lester. It's all the way in March." Dan replied.

"I will fly over here on March and I'll see it myself. Just you wait, Howell."

Dan laughed in the moment, but he felt something inside his stomach swirl. He was having a lot of fun right now - probably more fun that he ever will this entire summer - but in the end he knew this thing he had with Phil would just be a summer fling. Phil would fly back to England, continue modelling, and then find another person to keep him company. He would be happy there, but Dan felt selfish and wanted him for himself. What was Dan going to do after this? Study more? Rehearse more? Stay sadly single as he watches everyone around him find a significant other? He knew in his heart that Phil would mean more to him then he would ever be to Phil. To Dan, Phil would be his first fling, his first "boyfriend", his first...someone. To Phil, Dan was nothing more than another person to keep him interested.

He would probably forget about Dan by the time they even did the dress rehearsal.

---

After ravenously eating their fish and chips, the pair decided to go on a walk on the beach. They made a bit of small talk on the way until Dan decided to drop his darkest secret.

"Phil. I have a confession to make." Dan said.

"What is it?" Phil replied in a hushed tone.

"I don't like the beach." Dan admitted, articulating each consonant to bring more emphasis to his confession. Phil stopped in his tracks and gasped dramatically.

"No." Phil said in disbelief.

"It's true. I don't like the beach, and I never will." Dan replied.

"But - why?" Phil said, lost for words.

"Probably because I still have PTSD from when we did Surf Education by the beach and everyone watched me swim even though I never did any formal training in swimming and I was doing okay until I swallowed saltwater and I choked in it, meaning I had stopped swimming and I kind of drowned and my maths teacher had to save me and then I threw it all up while everyone else was learning how to surf and I stayed home sick for two weeks because I was too mortified to face any of them again and I never made eye contact with my maths teacher ever again." Dan replied. Phil made a face.

"Yikes." Phil replied, "I don't really know what to say."

"Anyway, so I hate the beach."

There was a brief and slightly awkward silence in the air.

"Okay, so you had a traumatic experience. But come on, the beach isn't that bad! The sand is...squishy. And nice. And warm."

"They get in your clothes and you find them in your hair weeks after you went to the beach."

"The view is...pretty."

"Come on man, I live in a beach house. I see the view every day."

"Well, the - wait. You said you live in a beach house and...you hate the beach?"

"Yeah?"

Phil then started laughing. Not just normal laughing - the type of laughing where you can't breathe, where your stomach hurts, where tears start streaming out of years. Phil started doing all the above at once, in the middle of the pavement to the beach. Strangers started giving him and Dan strange looks, but Phil didn't seem to notice. Phil finally started taking deep breaths and stopped his laughter.

"Sorry, I don't know what came over me. It isn't even that funny. It's just...the irony of that. On point." Phil said.

"Yeah, I get that a lot." Dan said.

"How about we make sandcastles?" Phil asked.

"What are we, 5?" Dan snorted.

"Hey! Sandcastles aren't just for children. Let me show you." Phil said, hopping down on the sand. Dan stared at him from the pavement, only watching as Phil encouraged him down. Nothing happened.

Frustrated, Phil took Dan's hand and dragged him down, almost landing headfirst in the sand. Somehow, Dan had only just managed to not fall on the sand and he was now resting in Phil's arms. They briefly made eye contact in the awkward position before Phil hoisted Dan up.

"I did not consent." Dan said as Phil dragged him closer to the ocean.

"Don't worry, you'll appreciate it." Phil said, letting go of Dan's hand to bend down and mold the sand.

Dan sighed and bent down at Phil's eye level. He began to mold some sand. He created a short mound and drew a sad face on it with his finger.

"There's my sandcastle." Dan said, lying down on the beach. Phil lightly slapped his shoulder.

"Make a flag for it at least." Phil said. Sighing, Dan sat up and looked around for the nearest stick. He groaned.

"But the sticks and leaves are all the way over there." Dan whinged. It was now Phil's turn to sigh.

"I'll come with you." Phil said, standing up to follow Dan.

"Wow, not going to lie, those flowers are pretty pretty." Dan said. Phil glanced at them.

"Oh, they're the camissonia cheiranthifolia cheiranthifolia." Phil said. Dan gave him a funny look.

"What?" Dan said, amazed and confused.

"Or the Beach Evening Primrose, as it is more commonly known." Phil clarified.

"How the hell do you know that?" Dan asked. Phil shrugged.

"I have an appreciation for botany." Phil said. "I grow a lot of plants at home."

"What is that one, then?" Dan questioned, pointing at the reddish purple flowers on the left. Phil squinted.

"I believe that is abronia maritima, or the sand verbana." Phil said. Dan looked at him in wonder.

"You know what? I'm not gonna even." Dan said.

After deciding on what flowers, leaves and sticks they wanted for the sandcastles, and after Phil flexed more of his knowledge of flora, they walked to where the sandcastles once were.

"No, they were destroyed by the sea!" Phil exclaimed.

"It's fine, we can make new ones." Dan said. Phil looked back at Dan with a wide smile.

"What?" Dan asked. Phil shook his head.

"Never mind." Phil laughed. "Anyway, I have an idea. We'll do a competition for the best sandcastle. Loser owes winner a something?"

Dan thought about it. "So a Dan vs Phil?"

"Pretty much," Phil responded, shrugging. Dan smirked.

"You're going down, Lester," Dan said.

"Am not!" Phil protested. "Just you wait."

And so the made sandcastles till sundown, both concentrating on their creation, adding shells, flowers, sticks, leaves and all kinds of things. It was a wholesome moment, filled with a childlike playful innocence. At one point Dan decided to throw a sandball at Phil and they ended up having a sandball fight for a solid five minutes before they were both choking on sand and decided to stop.

"I think I'm done." Phil said decidedly.

"Me too." Dan admitted. "Woah!"

Phil's sandcastle consisted of many different castles within a circular gate. It was large and impressive, a huge fortress that towered over Dan’s minimalists mansion. Shells and plants were all over it, used for decoration, and even the water from the sea was utilised to create a moat. Dan whistled impressively.

"Alright, I concede. You win. I owe you a something." Dan sighed, pouting. Phil laughed at the look on Dan's face.

"It's fine, I'll get you a coke. Then you owe me something." Phil said with a wink. Dan felt his entire face flush red.

"Yeah, yeah." Dan muttered, attempting to hide his warm face from the attractive model. Phil grabbed Dan's hand and pulled it across the beach.

"Come on, beach house boy. Brighten up, we can't all be winners." Phil teased. Dan rolled his eyes fondly.

"Stop flexing and get me a coke." Dan whined.

After a long wait in the queue, the two tall teenagers sat on the empty side of the beach, watching the stars and listening to the party from afar. The dark sky blanketed the beach, the lonely moonlight illuminating Phil's fair face. He watched Phil grin and turn to him, his heart beating faster and faster with every second.

"You know, you still owe me something." Phil mused distractedly, gazing off into the dark sea.

"I guess." Dan replied quietly, the right words trapped in his dry mouth. He quickly glanced at Phil, only to find him looking right back at him. 

“What do you want to owe me?” Phil whispered. Dan shrugged.

“Whatever you want, I guess.”

A split second passed in time, and suddenly they were kissing under the night sky, cold ocean water brushing their feet. As milliseconds passed, Dan slowly felt his heart begin to calm and their heartbeats were soon in sync, comforted by the other's presence.

“Today’s been a good day. I want this again. I want all of this again.” Phil said.

“Me too,” Dan replied. “I think I just want you.”

Phil blushed and smiled quietly at Dan’s compliment. Not breaking eye contact, Dan took Phil’s hand in his.

"I really like you." Dan murmured quietly.

Phil smiled softly. "I really like you too.”

Maybe they would be more than just a summer fling.

#phan #dan and phil #daniel howell #dan howell #danisnotonfire #phil lester #philip lester #phillip lester #amazingphil #phandom #phannie #phanfiction #phanfics #emilee.writings.exe #phan one-shot #phan one shot #fanfics #phan fanfiction #dan and phil fanfiction #dan and phil phanfiction #phan phanfiction #teenagers!phan #summer fling #beach #model!phil #actor!dan #day at the beach #summer #em's fluff #em's one-shots