#and it feels really... nice? that they took it well minus the obvious concern

[stylesrecord]

wait it’s the perfect amount of quiet on here that means i can overshare freely because no one cares

#i’m getting a therapist soon #which is really big for me #i’ve mentioned before how my parents basically eat up the stigma of therapy #primarily my mom who’s a nurse - ironic i know #but i kind of reached my breaking point #not kind of. i did this week #i may not show it yet i’m literally feeling insane ❤️ in the worst ways #so it led them to being okay with it telling me i have to do what i have to do #and it feels really... nice? that they took it well minus the obvious concern #but also very weird since now they know how i’m feeling partially #and also weird that i finally am fully acknowledging i haven’t been myself in awhile #the awareness is frightening because it makes it more real i guess #i’m just proud of myself though #it was really nerve wracking to even think about bringing therapy up #the last few times i have ended up in arguments #i just need it now the most #esp because zoom university is killing me more than i thought it would #plus we never talk about these things so opening up a tad wasn’t chill either #would love to go back to the person who was always positive i hate being so... whiny ;/ #and feeling like the entire universe is working against me ;/ #i managed my stress and mental health better before all of this now everything is out of my control and i hate it sort of thing but ya #thanks for coming to my ted talk #also side note emailing for consultations or waitlists makes me feel like A Real Adult ;/

[shcherbatskya]

okay here’s the much awaited (at least for me) first chapter of my multi chapter fic, where we go from here! it will be below the cut but i’m also uploading it to ao3 here

It was supposed to be a run-of-the-mill ghoul hunt. They’d be back in a day at most. But it had been more than a day and Jack was getting worried. Normally he wouldn't be this on edge, but Sam was off the grid with Eileen and wouldn't be in range for a few days. Dean and Cas had gone to Tennessee three days ago to deal with a call from a concerned local authority who got their number after another hunter had stopped by the town to deal with a vampire nest. They’d promised Jack they would call him if they really needed him, but they hadn't been picking up his calls or listening to any of his voicemails. So he did the only thing someone with the innermost thoughts of a four-year-old would. He contacted the first person he could think of that Dean and Cas cared about, minus Sam.

Claire was doing the normal thing to be doing at one in the morning on a Tuesday. Sleeping. She was understandably alarmed when someone knocked on the door at that hour. She opened the door, marine-grade knife in hand (a birthday present from Dean), to a kid no older than herself.

“Who the fuck are you and what are you doing at my house at two in the morning,” she questioned.

“Hi! I’m Jack.” He raised his hand and did a little wave.

“Okay, Jack, still doesn’t explain why you’re here.”

“I’m sort of your little brother? Did Dean and Cas not tell you?”

Dean and Cas? Huh. They had mentioned a kid, but she had expected a toddler not a teenage boy. “The god kid?”

“Yeah!”

“Huh. Okay then, so why aren’t you with Dean and Cas right now? They kick you out or something?”

“No, they’ve been on a hunting trip. They haven’t been home or answered any of my calls in a few days,” he shifted his weight from one leg to the other, “I came here to see if you’d help me look for them.”

Claire could see how worried the kid was and if anything she was no stranger to absent parents and she’d stop anyone going through that if she could. Plus it’s not like she had anything better to do these days.

“Okay but you have to let me get the rest of my night’s sleep. I’ll pack a bag and we’ll hit the road tomorrow morning.”

Jack was pretty much beaming at her now, it was evident that he looked up to Claire from what Dean and Cas had told him about her. Kaia, who he regularly talked to, also told him a lot about Claire. She was like the sibling he never had!

Claire already had a bag packed. It was her ‘drop everything, something bad has happened and I need to haul ass’ bag, so far she hadn’t had to use it aside from one time she just didn’t feel like packing a real bag. She didn’t think she ever would have to, but here she was. The stakes of the whole ordeal hadn’t set in her mind until now. If they didn’t find them or get there in time, Dean and Cas could be dead. They could be dead right now. She put those thoughts out of her mind, in favor of the more optimistic outlook of Jack’s probably just paranoid. She still couldn’t sleep very well that night.

Jack was still sitting on the couch in the living room. Claire still lived with Jody and the other girls so he couldn’t do much else without waking someone up. He eventually fell asleep on the couch. He woke up when Claire came into the room.

“You ready to go or what?” She asked.

“Yeah yeah im ready,” he mumbled back, still half asleep.

“Do you want me to drive?” Claire asked.

“I don’t have a car,” Jack said, with a look like it was the most obvious thing in the world that he wouldn’t have a car.

“How the hell did you get here then?”

“I can teleport.”

“I guess I’m driving then.”

Claire put her bag in the back seat and Jack took the passenger seat of Claire’s old Subaru. And they were off.

“So where are we going”

“Dean said they were going to Tennessee for a ghoul hunt. Someone in a small town called them, I’m not sure what town though.”

“Well, we’ve got a lot of ground to cover, then.”

They did have a lot of ground to cover. The seventeen-hour drive from South Dakota to Tennessee was a lot in and of itself, but to try and find Dean and Cas without having a clue where to look was another story.

“Do you want to look in the news for somewhere to start?” Claire asked, not looking away from the road. “Maybe if you found something in our lane we could take care of that and see if they knew anything about Dean and Cas.”

“Good idea.” Jack seemed to be happy just being out of the bunker and having something to do. He pulled out his phone to look at any news, he looked at all the major cities first. There weren’t that many. Nothing in Nashville or Knoxville.

“Heres something! A public works director in Chattanooga ran over the city treasurer with a car.”

“That just sounds like regular murder. Probably for money or something, maybe they wanted the position.”

“Yeah but there have been an increasing number of murder cases there, way more than normal, all in the past two weeks. It’s worth a shot, isn’t it? If it’s not our thing then we can just move on.”

“Chattanooga here we come, I guess,” Claire said. It wasn’t exactly the place she had thought of when thinking of the trip, she’d imagined a lot more action and less investigating a murder in Tennessee. But hey, it’s not for her sake. If it gets Dean and Cas back safe it’s worth it in her eyes.

About another hour passed in relative silence. It was going to get awkward if they were like this for another 12 hours.

“So do you listen to music?” Claire asked, just to break the silence.

“Yeah, I do. Mostly whatever Dean listens to.”

“Well do you want to play something?”

“Sure!” He seemed oddly excited about something as ordinary as picking the music, but he mostly rode in the car with Dean which means other people seldom got their say in what they listened to. Claire’s car had an aux cable which was also more than one could say about Baby. Jack really didn’t listen to much, he would listen to Disney soundtracks on occasion, but those are a sort of ‘listen to it once then it gets annoying’ thing.

“What are your thoughts on lo-fi hip hop beats to chill/study/sleep to,” Jack asked in a way that didn’t really sound like a question.

“There is really nothing else you can think of. In your super powerful angel kid brain, all you can think of is lo-fi beats to chill/study/sleep to.”

“Do you have a better idea?”

Truth be told Claire would rather listen to anything but lo-fi beats at the moment, but when put on the spot like that it’s hard to come up with an idea.

“We could just take turns playing songs for a while.”

It was a flat stretch of land for a good amount of miles up ahead so Claire didn’t need to focus so much energy on watching the road.

They went back and forth, Jack played Rainbow Connection from the Muppets and Claire played Celebrity Skin by Hole, so on and so forth. They went on like this for a while, Jack really liked Abba apparently. They eventually agreed on one of the premade “road trip” playlists on spotify. It was mostly dad rock.

“You still need to eat and stuff, right?”

“Yes, I may be part angel but I still have human DNA and organs.”

“Do you want to stop soon? It might be nice to stay overnight somewhere and just get there in the afternoon.”

“Sure. Saint Lewis isn’t too far away from here.”

They stopped at a shitty fast food restaurant and then went to try and find a motel. Instead of stopping directly in Saint Lewis, they decided to go nearer to Mark Twain National Park, as they figured they would find better luck finding somewhere available without a reservation. And they did. A shabby-looking motel almost directly off the one-lane road. They headed inside and sure enough, there were more than enough rooms. It was by no means the most pleasant place either of them had stayed, but it would do for the night. They’d be out early tomorrow morning. They checked in, the woman working at the desk couldn’t have been more than in her early twenties, which wasn’t what you would think of when you walked in, but they’d seen more suspicious things. Claire dumped her bag at the end of the bed closest to the door.

#samael speaks #sammy sires #jack kline #claire novak #supernatural #spn #ill reblog this and tag people in a sec hold on

[mr-walkingrainbow]

exes for abimel, as in mel is the one to meet one of abby exes this time, and she is jelly. Abby loves it.

X’s HERE WE GO

(I kinda made some angst? Instead of Abby loving it she’s a bit upset by her ex) but like it think it’s still ok?

As in MEL MEETS ABIGAELS EX AND IT GOES AS GREAT AS “Who wears a bikini watering their plants???” WENT

ahahahha this gonna be fun

“Heyyy Cariño!”

Abigael laughed, rolling her eyes at Mels flirtatious tone, “Hello my love.”

Mel quickly took a seat across from Abby, grinning wildly for not particularly reason.

“What’s got you in a chipper mood?” Abby questioned pleasantly.

“Nothing really,” she smiled wider, “I just love being in your presence.”

“How warm hearted.”

Mel reached out, heart picking up slightly when Abby immediately entwined their hands.

“Did you order our coffee? You know I usually take-“

-“Ultra dark, three shots of expresso, two creams, and exactly 2.5 lumps. Which honestly seems fairly annoying because everyone knows you shouldn’t split a lump!” Abigael ranted, face screwing up slightly at the thought of her English ways be so ‘thoroughly tarnished’

Mel sighed lovingly, attracting her attention.

“What?”

The Latina giggled, “Your simply so adorable when you get like that!”

A noise akin to a mewl was heard from the secret softy, her nose scrunching in the most adorable way.

“I am not adorable!” Abby tried to defend, “I’m a demon overlord. Adorable is not allowed in our description!”

“Oh sure!” She mocked placatingly, “Definitely not adorable.”

The hybrid scowled, “Oh wipe that smile off your face! Besides the fact I have no idea how you even drink that boiled trash! Everyone knows If it doesn’t come in appropriately sized cup it’s rubbish!”

“Appropriately sized?” Mel snorted, “You mean those literal mini tea cups you have at home?!”

Abby sighed with a flourish, “And this is why tea is the superior drink.”

The lesbian fake pouted, “But I love coffee?”

Abigael softened, just like the huge marshmallow she was.

“And apparently fate has decided that I love you. So for now, I deem your Rubbish drink tolerable.”

She laughed, bringing Abbys hand to her lips for a kiss.

“How I love meeting your high and mighty British standards!”

The later preened, “We are an unusually flawless brood.”

“Oh my GOSH! Abigael Jameson-Caine does have a soft side! Alert the press!”

The sultry rich accented voice came out of nowhere, Mel taking notice on how Abby stiffened. Hands jerking in a quickly stifled stim.

A girl in her mid twenty’s walked up to them, her swagger matching her voice to a T.

She was fairly light skinned, her dark tresses curling into flamed highlights at the end. Her waist was slim, her beauty as evident as her immaculate complexion.

It more then annoyed Mel when she draped herself over Abigeals shoulders.

“Abigael,” she crooned, “So nice to see you.”

The smiled Abby wore was forced, Mel knew this just by looking at her.

“Rachel.” She spoke smoothly, as if the laters presence wasn’t affecting her.

“Rachel is it now?” The girl smirked, leaning down till her mouth was right behind Abigaels ear, “What happened to what you called me in the night?”

Abby uncharacteristically squeaked, her face reddening considerably.

Her poor Cariño looked absolutely flustered, practically sweltering under the blunt statement.

Mel didn’t like this.

She didn’t like it one bit.

And no, she totally wasn’t jealous of the supermodel clone in front of her.

How crass would that be?

“Ehghem!” Mel coughed loudly, drawing the unwanted attention of ‘Rachel’ who looked at her as if she was something disgusting on the floor, “Abby? Care to introduce me to your….”

She trailed off, peering suspiciously at the girl. Gripping Abigaels hand just a bit tighter, if not possessively.

“Right! Right yes of course.” Abigael fumbled slightly, the glint in her eyes saying everything she couldn’t.

“This is Rachel, Rachel Parkingson, you could say, she was one of my Ex’s.”

She gestured vaguely to the girl behind her, the beautiful woman grinning like a Cheshire Cat.

Rachel laughed coyly with a wave of her hand, “Oh Abigael, we were More then Ex’s.”

Mel was sure her face was burning, She couldn’t pinpoint her exact emotion. Just knew it was negative, and aimed toward Rachel-Supermodel-Parkingson.

Rachel soon leveled Mel with another uninterested stare.

“And who might the girl with the simply styled hair be?”

“It’s bloody wonderful hair!” Abby bit in defensively, calming down just a tad afterwards, “And Rachel, Meet my Girlfriend, Melanie Vera.”

She emphasized the word girlfriend, trying to get her obvious point across.

“Hmmmm,” the miss universe copy barely acknowledged, “Must be recent.”

“And why is that?!” Abby retorted

Mel, however, could tell from Rachel’s smile that her girlfriend had just walked into a trap.

“We’ll it’s simple!” She left her perch on Abbys shoulders, walking leisurely till she was finally in view, “You don’t stick around for anyone! She’s a quick bang in a series of hookups!”

Her voice dropped to a whisper, “I would know. I was one of them.”

Abby looked petrified, letting her hair fall in her face slightly, as if a curtain to shield her.

Mel could feel the hybrids hand shaking in hers, matching her own rapidly increasing anger.

She didn’t quite understand why this was phasing her girlfriend so much, as she usually has the sharpest of tongues and infinite wordplay.

However, someone was affecting her Cariño, and she wasn’t about to let that fly.

“Rachel I’m pretty sure-“

-“I mean, it’s not like it matters!” The girl interrupted loudly, leaning in close, “I mean she’ll be done with you eventually. And then we could hang out again? Hmm? What you think? Ditch lame haired and come for some awesome Netflix and chill minus the Netflix?”

The anger Mel felt was threatening to boil, the only reason Rachel wasn’t sporting a broken flawless jaw, was because she was currently holding Abbys hand, and she was worried letting go might cause her fragile personna to break.

“Oh don’t you remember?” Rachel eloquently purred, lowering herself so she was near Abigaels head once again. Hand snaking upwards, “The fun we used to have? Your buttons, which I always pressed.”

Abby was shaking now. Face trembling with restraint.

Mel could see Rachel’s hand trailing upwards, and with rapidly growing concerned, understood the later was going to try and pull Abigaels hair here and now.

That.. that wasn’t allowed. Mel herself would never tug the brunettes locks somewhere she wasn’t comfortable, nevertheless in public, where people could observe it!

She made to punch Rachel in the face, but apparently her girlfriend beat her, to well, the literal punch.

“NO!” The overlord barked immoderately, free hand blazing up, catching the models wrist in her hand before she could reach her hair. Fiery gaze turning to stare at the envy green orbs.

“Rachel I understand your bitter, but I love Melanie. She’s my girlfriend. She’s amazing. And she’s actually loves me. Like can you believe it? She loves me!”

Abby smiled appreciatingly at Mel, who blushed in reply, giving a smile of her own.

“Oh I see,” Rachel’s tone had become harsh, “Cause where’s Abigael without her Mommy issues.”

Abigael let out a choked whine, rapidly bringing both hands to her face so Rachel wouldn’t have the satisfaction of seeing possible tears well.

“Oh that’s ENOUGH!” Mel boomed, finally standing up.

Sure the girl towered over her, but she had just hurt the person she loved the most, and that amount of anger made up for the height difference.

“You are rude, ignorant, cruel, and not to mention a total BITCH!” She seethed violently, the model actually looked worried by her demeanor, “I don’t get why your so strung up on Abby- wait no, scratch that. I do! I do understand! I understand because she’s the best person I’ve ever met In my entire life. And every day I wake up with a smile on my face because I know I’m lucky enough to be loved by someone as amazing as her! And you, Rachel Parkingson-whatever the fuck. You not only ignorantly came over here, you made Abigael uncomfortable, and continued to do so even though it was obvious, you treated me like dirt, you threatened to Out her secrets, and then, on top of all of that, you had the bare audacity to make fun of her trauma she’s gone through with Ratcesca! So now, if you don’t want to loose that pretty little face of yours, I suggest you get the fuck out while you can!”

Rachel let out an unflattering shriek, before stomping away in her break-an-ankle heels.

Mel knew some people were staring, but she couldn’t care less. Right now she wanted to make sure her Cariño was ok.

“Honey? Mi amor?” She cooed softly, quickly moving so she was near her girlfriend.

“Cariño I’m going to hug you now, ok?”

Their was a quick nod from Abby, which is all she needed. Letting her arms wrap around the hybrids slim waist, resting her head on her shoulder.

“Mi sweetness, are you ok? That girl was a total jerk and you shouldn’t listen to a word she-“

-“Thank you.”

“Huh?”

The Latina gazed at Abby, with slight confusion, “I mean, of course My Love, I couldn’t just let her treat you like that?”

Abigael blushed, looking down, “You still didn’t have too.”

“Oh honey, sweetie,” Mel fluttered a hand underneath Abbys chin, lifting it so she could look straight into her hazel orbs, they were red rimmed, but she ignored it, “I will always defend you, I will always love you, no matter who says what. I’m sorry I didn’t react quick enough in fact. Your always so sharp with your tongue, but I should have realized Rachel was affecting you.”

“No!” Abby argued, “If anyone should apologize it’s me! I shouldn’t have let her say that stuff to you. I was too weak.”

“Don’t you say that!” She begged, squeezing tighter, “Abby you are the farthest from weak!”

“But I let her say that stuff…”

“Let her? You let her? Last time I checked you didn’t control what people said to me. You didn’t let her do anything! She hurt your feelings and made you uncomfortable. And while I wish no one ever did that, it’s ok to feel hurt and uncomfortable. It’s not weak or pitiful!”

Abigael still avoided her gaze, something else was wrong.

Mel crouched in front of her, grasping both hands in hers.

“Cariño, I love you, what’s on that beautiful mind of yours?”

Her girlfriend looked up, giving her a pained expression.

“Mel, your not Rachel.”

“Oh.”

Mel wasn’t sure how she was supposed to handle that information.

“Um… is that a bad thing?”

“NO!” The hybrid exploded, wincing afterwards, “Bloody hell, I’m messing this up entirely!”

She took a deep breath, looking at Mel once again.

“What I’m trying to say is, Rachel said your were just a simple hookup. Just like she was. But your not! Your not like Rachel, can’t you see?” Her eyes glistened with her passion, “Melanie, Rachel could never even be compared to you, because unlike her, I actually love you! I didn’t feel a single thing for her. She was just an outlet for whatever frustrations I had back then. And I had a lot of them. So I also understand why she’s so bitter to me. I wasn’t the best as communicating boundaries, and I assumed everyone knew I only did things for sex. I guess she was just unfortunate.”

Mel smiled a loving smile, cupping the side of Abbys face, “Aww, Cariño! You love me! You really love me.”

“I really really do.” Abigael breathed out, leaning into the touch.

“Aww, your so adorable.”

The squeak of rage that left Abbys mouth was by far the cutest thing Mels heard so far.

“Traitor!” She accused, “I am not adorable!”

“Aww you can’t deny ittt, I looove how adorable you are!” The Latina teased.

Abigael grumbled something unintelligible, letting her head fall forward onto Mels shoulder.

She smiled, pressing a kiss to her crown,

“I love you too.”

#OverWitch #mel x abigael #abigael caine #abigael x mel #Mel Vera #Harry Greenwood #Macy Vaughn #Maggie Vera #Harry x Macy #Hacy #Jordan Chase #Joggie #Maggie x Jordan #Jordan x Maggie #Macy x Harry #Charmed #Charmed Reboot #charmed cw #Abimel

[sparklyicecube]

Drabbles of a group of not-normal girls

Merry Christmas everyone! This is my secret santa gift for @emmamemea and I must admit when I first saw the favourite characters list none of them overlapped with mine but I had fun researching and writing them! Disclaimer: I didn’t have that good of a grasp on their characters so I thought it’d be safer writing a bunch of short drabbles rather than long fic, enjoy!

Valentines day:

“P-Please accept my chocolates at least!” Megu didn’t know what to do, here was yet another underclassmen who was trying to give her chocolates. She sighed, the difficulty of rejecting so many was painful at best.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t accept these, please respect that.” The young girl looked up at her with heartbroken eyes.

“At-at least take them then I promise you don’t need to talk to me ever again! We might not be allowed to date but taking some chocolates won’t be too bad right?” The girl held out the chocolates with her face parallel to the ground, Megu knew she should say no but took it anyway.

The girl lit up and thanked her, running away in glee.

“Megu!” The girl in question jumped slightly and turned to face the group of eavesdroppers, they were really obvious about eavesdropping but somehow the underclassmen student didn’t notice.

Yada sighed, “Megu, I thought you said you were going to to not accept this one. You know it gives them the wrong idea.” Yada took the box of chocolates out of Megu’s hands, putting it into the large bag that they already accumulated.

“I tried, but she seemed so pitiful…”

“We should go out!” Everyone looked at Okuda, her little outburst having taken a bit of courage. “Everyone always said that it’s the best way to get over a bad experience so we should try it!” Looking at Okuda’s determined face they couldn’t help but chuckle, agreeing with her.

“It settled then! Girl’s day out!”

The first place they went to was the mall, deciding that good food and shopping would be fun.

...that didn’t go as planned.

None of the girls were really that into shopping, though they did manage to find some cute outfits for some of them.

“Yada, this would look so good on you!” Of course, Yada’s body fit the most clothing, her features accentuating the clothes and making some people feel a bit more insecure about their own body types. They managed to all get at least one article with mild interest but the real kicker came when they were eating.

“Do you think Korosensei is actually that bad at spying or is he making it obvious so we are aware of it?” 

“Well-”

“EVERYBODY!” The entire restaurant turned to look at some table, with a girl standing on top of it and a boy sitting what would have been across from her. “WE HAVE BEEN FRIENDS FOR OVER FIVE YEARS, I HAVE NOT MANAGED TO GET INTO THE SAME CLASS AS HIM, BUT I WANT YOU TO KNOW THAT I REALLY LIKE KYOU-CHII.” The girl turned to the shocked boy and whipping out a bouquet and chocolates, said: “Will you be my boyfriend?”

The boy looked up at her with starry eyes. “Y-yes!”

The entire restaurant was clapping and cheering with the girls politely clapping along and decided that maybe they should retire from the mall after all.

The park was where they decided to hit next, with Kurahashi saying that nature was the best way to distract oneself from the human world.

Though the park was nice, the amount of happy couples around was unpleasant to say the least, and seemed to occupy every bit of the park.

“I saw some really nice green dragonflies here last week-” Kurahashi rambled as she pulled open some shrubbery to reveal a cove that had two people making out.

“Bitch-sensei couldn’t get more hits than that.” Commented Fuwa, as they walked towards the edges of the park.

“What about we all go to my house? A good sleepover where there can literally be no one else! Except my brother.” Suggested Yada. 

They all agreed, and a sleepover it was!

Valentines Day aside, the girls had a heartfelt day spending time with one another, hanging out, and an entire night of fun! (Minus the pillow fight because that wasn’t fun, that was brutal war training). 

Megu might still be learning how to say no but at least she had a group of friends that would help her along the way.

The trials of a flight attendant who trained to be an assassin:

“Welcome! Hope you have a pleasant flight! Can I check your boarding pass? Okay, your seat is on the left in the back.” Megu had gone through the rigorous training and application process to become a flight attendant, with relatively no issue. Her training from the E-Class got her to the top of the batch and she was able to handle emergency situations, heavy lifting, service training and all in heels, she passed with flying colours.

This flight was particularly special because several of her fellow E-Class classmates were on it too, mostly by coincidence of course. 

Okuda and Kurahashi were headed to some science conference in the US, Fuwa was over there to negotiate discuss with a publishing house over there and Yada said she had wanted to relax for a holiday. They all agreed to meet up with each other at some point but for now Megu was pretty happy just knowing they were all on the same plane, it was like a a little reunion!

“Excuse me miss it seems like there’s something we need to discuss with you about your layover.” Yada looked up at Megu, currently sporting a tight bun and a very cute flight attendant outfit.

“Sure, no problem.” Yada replied, getting up from her seat and following Megu to one of the areas where there was no other flight attendants.

“Yada.”

“Megu! I haven’t seen you in person for awhile!” 

“What are you doing.”

“Ehhh? I thought you’d be happy to see me, this isn’t a very proper way to greet a passenger.”

As quick as a flash, Megu had grabbed Yada’s wrist, spun her around and slid the pin out of her hair, clicking it open to reveal a small vial.

Megu pulled Yada close to her, to prevent others from hearing, though they were alone, pressing her mouth close to Yada’s ear.

“You can’t kill him on board, are you crazy?”

Yada easily twisted out of Megu’s grip and smiled putting a finger on Megu’s lips.

Megu glared at Yada, “I thought you said you wanted to use your skills for negotiation?”

“This is called a negotiation breakdown.”

“Why do it on a plane? Do it on a cruise!” Megu hissed, “People die there all the time!”

“Do they really?” Asked Fuwa, popping out from behind Megu’s shoulder with a notepad in hand.

“Fuwa!” The two exclaimed, with very different emotions.

“Why are you here?” Asked Megu, feeling a very specific headache coming on.

“I’m on this flight too, plus a good manga editor always looks for good inspiration.” Fuwa winked at her then turned to Yada, “Mind telling me what made negotiations breakdown this badly?”

Yada smiled, “That, is unfortunately confidential.”

“That substance is too obvious, if you try this one it’ll look like he just had a heart attack.”

“Okuda! Don’t help her!”

“Ooh do I also inject under the tongue to have it heal quickly?” Asked Yada, intrigued.

“Mhm!”

Megu sighed, they did make a pact to help each other no matter what but this wasn’t exactly what she had expected when they made that pact.

“It’s like a nice reunion before we even land!” Exclaimed Kurahashi.

“Why are you even here?” Asked Megu, tired.

“I’m going to the science conference too remember? The same that Okuda and Yada’s target is going to! I also sensed drama and this guy wanted to see.” A small, (venomous by the looks of it) snake wormed out of Kurahashi’s sleeve.

“How did you get that through security?” Asked Megu, concerned.

“Him and his mom lay very still and they looked like ropes, they’re cold blooded and very well behaved.”

“Flight attendant, flight attendant, you don’t need to revamp the entire airport security system.” Muttered Megu to herself.

While the few bickered and chatted as if talking about shopping, the seatbelt sign came on, the plane having encountered turbulence. Megu used that as an opportunity to usher them off, a fond smile on her face appearing as she saw them waving at her as they innocently went to their seats.

Yada walked back to her seat with a bright smile on her face, Okuda’s vial now in the syringe in her pin. There were plenty of ways to kill the guy she was after without tipping off that it was her, but this way meant that the airline wouldn’t get in trouble either.

Megu discreetly checked on their body bags, there wasn’t anyone in first class so they could move the person there when needed, hopefully Yada would do it naturally and the man would seem dead by accident.

When they touched down on American soil Megu sighed in relief, a few more checks and she could be going out with the girls and catching up without the stress of being on a plane.

Then afterwards she needed to work on changing the airport security system.

Author’s note that I couldn’t slip in but thought was a fun fact when researching for this drabble: Flight attendants cannot declare a person legally dead, the country they land in has to do that instead. Also, I now know even more ways to get away with murder :)

The powers of deduction:

“What else do you think will happen?” 

Fuwa smirked, her powers of deduction heightened from reading intense plot-based mangas.

“Well, from what I can tell, those two,” she said pointing her pencil towards a pair of students sitting on a cafe table a bit further away, “have the typical, ‘I hate you but we’re being forced to do a group project together’, they will probably end up in love or at least a love triangle. That group,” she pointed her pencil towards a group of people, “are all fighting for that one girl’s attention but she doesn’t know it because she’s dense. 10 chapters in when the readers are all on the edge of their seats in anticipation she will find out and intense love drama ensues where she is intensely confused but gets together with that green-haired one. Then she gets a scholarship overseas.”

“Wow! That’s so cool!” Exclaimed Kurahashi, Fuwa basking in the praise.

“That’s fun but that only really happens in mangas and stuff, those guys might just be normal friends.” Megu pointed out.

Fuwa glanced at Megu, then towards Yada and smirked.

“Okay, well then, I predict there’s another story right in our very class.”

“I know! That there’s a supermonster that is going to kill the earth but has a dramatic and tragic backstory that for some reason this group of junior-high students have to kill?” Kurahashi offered.

“Everyone knows that, something more interesting.” Fuwa smirked. “I predict that these two” pointing to Yada and Megu, “Aren’t going to realise their love for one another, ignore it all of their schooling lives and one day… Okuda play along with me.”

“O-ok?”

“Oh! I’m so sorry for bumping into you.”

“Uh, no problem! I was the one at fault…”

“Omg, I haven’t seen you for such a long time, we should really,” Fuwa brushed a lock of hair behind her ear, “catch up.” She said, waggling her eyebrows exaggeratedly. 

“Yes! We should um, meet at a cafe?”

“Then they’re at the cafe like, ‘Oh it’s so nice to see you again, it really was so fun.’”

“You’re going?”

“Unfortunately yes, you see… I’m engaged.”

Okuda gasped, unsure what to do next.

Fuwa decided to then play her role for her, “‘No! Please! Don’t go!,’ ‘I’m sorry, but I must.’ ‘But you don’t understand! I- I love you!’ ‘What?’ “Ever since junior-high in the E-Class whe-”

“Okay that’s enough.” Megu declared, tips of her ears having turned pink and an annoyed but embarrassed face. Yada had turned away slightly with her hand covering her face.

“Okuda! Your acting was so good!” Yada exclaimed, the others still noting with amusement the slight tint of pink brushed onto her cheeks.

“Was it? It was hard to think on the spot…”

“Definitely! I might even cast you as the student who helps them get in touch way later.” Fuwa joked.

The group laughed, after all, Fuwa’s scenarios don’t always come true.

Sometimes.

#assassination classroom #assassination classroom secret santa #kataoka megu #toka yada #yuzuki fuwa #manami okuda #hinano kurahashi #secret santa #I had so many tabs open researching their characters for this #why do they have so little screentime I re-watched that one club scene so many times #hope you like it!

[kureis-writing-hell]

AU Date

In which Kai didn't become Overhaul. He's looking after Eri, living in the compound. Nao is here as his "babysitter", a hero hired by Pops to monitor Kai because Kai is getting worryingly violent. They already know each other for bit now but it's first time they're trully alone.

It's fully for myself, Kai's POV, first kiss and first time hinted at the end. I may write something in this AU again in the future, I love all the stuff where Kai takes care of Eri!

*

“A date?” Kurono was looking at him… differently. Not in a way he let himself look at him when there were other people around. Kai readjusted his gloves, hiding his nervousness under a regular gesture.

“Yes. Could you look after Eri for the afternoon?”

“Of course I could.” Kurono wasn't wearing his mask and there was a smirk dancing around his lips. He knew Kai the best out of the whole Shie Hassaikai after all. “Can I ask who you decided to go out with? Why? I thought you’re not into dating.”

“Well. It’s Nao. He asked and I… didn’t feel revolted about the idea.”

For a moment Kurono looked at him surprised. Then laughed, covered his mouth and shook his head with a smile still visible in his eyes.

“You’re going on a date with your babysitter Nao? Really?”

“He’s not-” Kai sighed and readjusted his tie, in a more visibly nervous gesture. “I just hope it won’t be a disaster.”

“I’m sure it won’t.” For once Kurono smiled sincerely and turned his face back toward the documents he was reading. “I’ll watch over Eri, don’t worry. I know what to do in case of disaster. And we’ll stay up only an hour longer than she’s allowed.”

“Be sure she gets rest,” worried Kai. He knew that lack of sleep could worsen her condition and tried to avoid it at any cost. Then, seeing a smirk on his face, Kai realized Kurono was teasing him again. He huffed a quick “thanks” and turned to leave the room.

“Be back before ten!”

Kai left, grumbling swears towards Kurono.

…

Nao was dressed… at least better than usual. Kai couldn’t complain, he himself looked just like always. His white sneakers, black pants and shirt and a tie, a new one he never wore before. It was bottle green with a dark, orange flower pattern and Kai didn’t have an occasion to wear it before. And, of course, his favourite jacket. Nao had red sneakers, jeans and hawaiian shirt opened low enough to flash his chest.

Kai made sure to not stare too much. Usually Nao dressed in turtlenecks, jackets and anything that covered as much of his skin as possible. Usually Kai couldn't even see his collarbones and now he felt like he couldn't turn his gaze away.

It was where Nao took him that was somehow a problem for Kai.

“...street food.”

Nao stopped his obvious struggles with reading a menu, standing in front of one of the many stalls on the street. It was busy, loud and dirty all around them. He looked at Kai.

“You don’t like street food?” There was worry in Nao’s voice but he kept smiling in his creepy way. It used to be one of many things that Kai was irritated about - a stupid, weird smile that made everyone around Nao uneasy - but lately he started to find it… amusing.

“It’s not that I don’t like it,” sighed Kai, not wanting to sound rude for once. “I’m just wary of the way food is prepared. Street doesn’t speak… sanitary to me.”

Nao made an “oooh” face. He looked like a dumbass and Kai held back an amused huff. He turned all the way toward him, showing a more nervous expression.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t think. We can go somewhere more comfortable for you.”

“No, it’s fine. It’s just…” Kai looked around the stall they were standing by. The seats inside were all taken, only one or two tables outside seemed free. They looked greasy. “It’s going to be a challenge.”

Nao laughed, looked at the stall they were standing by and then down the street.

“What would you want to eat then?”

“Yakitori.”

Nao nodded and pointed to one of the stalls.

“There’s a grill over there, let’s see. Maybe they have Shioyaki too!”

This time Kai nodded and they went to check the place.

…

Actually it was more like a regular night out with the men from Shie Hassaikai than a date. Minus the loud discussion. Kai didn’t usually take part in those outings, but when he did they went through basically the same. Some grilled food, beer, a loose discussion. He didn’t really understand why they had to call this one a date. And so he voiced his concern.

“Well, I thought about taking you to a fancy restaurant but then I thought it would be more fun to just have a walk around. And, uh, I always found fancy places a bit awkward.”

“Awkward?”

“Yeah… I’m not used to places like that. I feel like I have to behave because everyone is watching me. Here I can have an open discussion with you, without worrying if someone could overhear us.”

“Oh. That’s why you wanted us to meet outside of the compound?”

“Yeah.” Nao laughed and bit the head of a fish he held on a stick in his hand. He continued with a full mouth, to Kai’s exasperation. To his dread he was starting to get used to the messy way Nao ate by now. “Kurono and Eri are always around you when I come in. And if they’re not then the others are. I wanted to have you just for myself for a while now.”

“What do you want to talk about, if they shouldn’t overhear it?” Kai took a mouthful of his beer, ignoring Nao’s last sentence. Nao, with a smirk, followed him before answering.

“Did you ever had sex?”

Chisaki choked, coughed and covered his mouth with his forearm. After calming his throat he looked at Nao, taken aback.

“Do you usually ask people about that on your first date?” he asked incredulously.

“It depends if I want to fuck them afterwards.” Nao laughed, seeing Kai’s expression. “I’m joking, don’t worry. We have known each other for a while now. I just wonder. You don’t have to answer if you feel uncomfortable about it, though.”

Nao grabbed another shioyaki to busy himself with something. Kai bit his lip, then licked over it. A group of teenagers passed them, laughing loudly.

“Actually, I didn’t,” he said, looking at Nao. He expected the other man to laugh or comment. Nao looked back at him, in the middle of a bite on the fish’s tail, chomped it off and swallowed it.

“Can I ask why? Like, was it your choice or did you just have no occasion?”

“I-” Chisaki was a little surprised. He readjusted his gloves, knowing Nao noticed and understood the tik. “You know. I’m not a fan of meeting new people. And getting intimate… let’s say I decided to wait for someone special.”

Kai grimaced only after saying that. He realized how pathetic it sounded, especially from someone like him. But Nao, again, didn’t laugh or ridicule him.

“That’s nice,” he said instead.

“...nice?”

“Yeah.” Nao took another bite and sipped his beer. “You got to experience your first time with someone you get to trust. It’s always better than fucking with the first person you’ve met and felt mildly attracted to as a teen.”

“If you say so.” For the first time in a while Kai actually showed his embarrassment. He tactically covered his flushed face, drinking his beer.

“No, I mean it!”

“Did you have sex then?”

This time Nao chuckled and blushed by himself.

“Yeah, a few times… first with a girl I met as a teen.”

Chisaki snorted and covered his lower face with surprise. He looked at Nao and the way the other man was looking back at him made him blush more.

As if he was a piece of art.

…

When they finished and went down the street, to have a walk, Kai refused to take off his mask again. It covered most of his embarrassed expression and he would like to leave it like that. Nao whined a little about it but then accepted his choice and led the way. It was getting less crowded the longer they walked till, finally, there were no people around but them. They entered some quiet neighborhood and didn't stop there, walking down the deserted street. The chill of the night was calming.

"Did you tell anyone about our date?" asked Nao suddenly

"Only Kurono." Kai reached to readjust his mask for one more time tonight and stopped himself in the middle of the movement. To keep his hands busy he brushed off his sleeves. "Oh. And Eri knows I went out with you. She probably spread it to everyone."

"So the whole Shie knows?" Nao laughed. "Hope it doesn't mean I have to marry you now."

"Why, it's a good arrangement, you'd get a position in Shie."

“I would?”

“Of course. You’d marry into the family. We may not be as powerful as we used to but we’re still respected.”

"Oh if you say it like that."

Chisaki playfully hit Nao in the side. He didn’t feel perfectly comfortable talking about it, because in the back of his head he had Pops and financial problems and everything, but he liked the loose atmosphere. Nao laughed and looked at Kai with a soft expression.

"I like when you're like that."

"What do you mean?"

"Relaxed. No need to be a big, scary yakuza gun. Just me, you and your pretty smile." Suddenly Nao stepped into Kai’s personal space, making him stop and cover his mask. He did that a lot. "Come on, show it to me."

"I don't smile."

"Oh you do!" Nao’s own, creepy smile spread over his face. "Well, maybe you don't but you can. I know it's gonna be the cutest thing!"

Kai stepped back, feeling how his face was getting warm. Nao kept looking at him and it was way too persistent. Just when Kai was getting fed up Nao stepped back, shaking his head.

"I'll get that smile out of you at some point."

"Sure."

And Kai had to actually hold himself back from making a small smile. He knew Nao wouldn't see it anyway but it was a thing of pride for him.

They arrived in a small park close to the neighborhood. It had trees and an outdoor gym, along with some stuff for kids to use, but at this hour it was obviously deserted. Nao sat on a bench, spreading his arms on the backrest. He looked expectantly at Kai, so Kai rolled his eyes and sat by Nao’s side. He also leaned back, relaxing on the bench.

"Did you ever kiss anyone?"

In a second Kai tensed, looking at Nao with surprise.

"What kind of question is that? You sound like a creep."

Nao laughed. He moved his arm closer to Kai but he made it look like an accident. Kai didn't get fooled, he knew Nao was touchy a lot, but he let it slide.

"You're avoiding the answer." Nao smiled smugly. "Do you also keep your first kiss for someone special?"

"Do you have a problem with that?" Kai couldn't help but get defensive. He knew Nao was teasing him, it was really obvious, but he still took it personally.

"I don't, if anything it would make you even more adorable."

As always Nao knew what to say to turn Kai’s mood upside down. Kai immediately forgot what he was being defensive about.

"I'm not!"

"Not adorable? Prove it."

"I-" For a moment Kai wasn't sure what he was supposed to answer with. "I killed people!"

"I used to do so as well… you don't think I'm adorable?" Nao gasped theatrically.

"That's not- ugh, shut up."

Nao laughed openly, grabbing Kai’s shoulder to keep him from moving away. Kai grumbled something before leaning back against the bench again. He crossed arms over his chest, on purpose not looking toward Nao.

"I could kill you right now."

"Aw, but you would bring me back anyway."

"I'm debating that."

"We both know you'd miss me!" Nao kept laughing some more.

Reluctantly, Kai had to admit to himself that he, indeed, would bring Nao back. There were a few whys to that, too. In the first place, it was his boss that hired Nao. Eri, as well as some of his own men, liked Nao. Nao was a goddamn hero, Kai couldn't risk killing one of those and bring too much attention to Shie Hassaikai. And, finally, Nao was fine. First time in years Kai met someone he didn't feel like dying while talking to. Nao was annoying, could be an asshole and a weirdo, his quirk was horrible and he sweated like a pig because of it, but for some reason Kai was willing to leave his house with him. Have a walk around the city. Eat goddamn street food.

So, yeah, Kai would bring him back. More importantly he wouldn't even overhaul him in the first place. And, frankly, it scared the shit out of him.

"So?"

Kai wrinkled his nose.

"I kissed. Before." He made the mistake of looking at Nao. He saw big, sparkly eyes, making the other man look like a puppy. He shook his head, looking away. "With Kurono. I'm not a fan."

The silence worried him so Kai looked at Nao again, cautiously. And he had to hold back a surprised flinch. If his smile was creepy then his serious, angry even expression could be terrifying. It was pretty obvious Nao was jealous.

"It was in high school," he explained, knowing well he didn't have to explain anything. "I didn't want anything to do with other people but everyone kept talking about kissing, dating and other shit so-" Kai brushed the back of his head. "I wasn't repulsed about Kurono back then. He did it because I told him so and uh. It was just weird."

"So the only time you ever kissed was because you were curious and you had someone to use?"

"Yeah. But what's the difference? It's just a kiss."

Both of them looked at each other and Kai felt like he shouldn't have said that.

"Take the mask off. I'll show you the difference."

Nao still looked jealous. Kai had no idea what it was about Kurono that worked him up like that but he knew it was dangerous. For example right now. He held his mask protectively.

"We ate."

"Is that the only but you have about this?"

Kai frowned, wanted to argue that he didn't say "but", tell Nao that he just wasn't into it at all. Yet he nodded, led by some kind of curiosity. Nao looked like he was plotting something and, while Kai knew he wouldn't like it, he wanted to see what it was.

And maybe he actually wanted to try kissing him.

Without a word Nao got up and grabbed Kai’s hand. He led him out of the park, to the street and into a konbini, the only place there that seemed to be people around here. Observed by Kai’s golden eyes, Nao bought two toothbrushes, two water bottles and a small tube of paste, the one that people use for traveling. Already knowing what Nao’s plan was, Kai only kept rolling his eyes.

So damn cheesy.

Back in the park, Nao took the pink toothbrush and handed Kai the blue one. With amusement, Kai looked it over and then back at Nao.

"Now you don't have any buts." Nao put the toothpaste over his brush and handed it to Kai. Kai took it, prepared his own toothbrush and had Nao splash it with water.

"I guess you're right."

Kai tugged his mask down and began brushing his teeth. He observed how Nao did it at the same time. First the upper right, then left, then the same on the lower jaw. He quite enjoyed looking at it, considering how messy and disordered Nao was it was quite surprising to see him wash his mouth like that.

The toothbrushes landed in trash after they were done and then Nao looked at Kai. And Kai felt nervousness swelling in his abdomen.

"I'm going to touch you," said Nao.

"Where?"

"On the neck. And jaw."

Kai licked his lips, bit the lower one and nodded.

Nao stepped closer, as always invading his personal space. They were almost the same height so none of them had to lean down, they just looked each other in the eyes. Then Nao lifted his hand and placed it on Kai’s neck, with the thumb over his adam's apple. Kai flinched just slightly but stayed in his place. He saw how Nao was getting even closer, panicked just slightly and shut down his eyes.

There was a second hand on his neck, on the other side, making him feel excited and guiding his head. Then a touch on his lips, rough, making his skin itch but somehow not in a bad way. He sighed, getting some of the tension out of his body, trying hard to not think about what was happening right now. Not about kissing but the contact and everything else. He wanted it and he didn't want his head to interrupt them.

Softly, Nao deepened the kiss, making Kai jump a little. There was a pause but after a second Nao continued. In no time his tongue was touching Kai’s and it was the weirdest feeling ever. Kai felt his hands slide more to the back of his head, tangle into his hair, touch his ears and he relaxed even more. It felt good. So good actually. How could it feel so good? It was just a kiss after all.

Then Nao did something unexpected. He moved his body, sticking it against Kai’s. Kai wanted to stop him, that wasn't the amount of touch he agreed to, but before he could he felt a friction between his legs and gasped into Nao’s mouth. Nao turned his body in a way that made Kai feel amazing and suddenly he felt stupid for just standing there.

Warily, Kai put his arms around Nao’s shoulders, making sure his hands didn't touch him. He didn't want to. He was too worried his quirk would act up.

That obviously made Nao excited. The pace suddenly changed and he deepened the kiss even more. His teeth clicked against Kai’s and Kai felt like he had to pay back for it. From a soft, long kiss they immediately went for a wild, aggressive one, body brushing against body, hands on the small of his back-

Wait-

"Mnhao." Kai felt the warm leather on his skin on the back, under his shirt. He didn't even notice when Nao got his shirt out of his pants.

The kiss stopped but Nao didn't move back even a little.

"Do you want to stop?"

He looked… good. Too good. Breathless, flushed and hungry. And it did things to Kai. He wanted more. He wanted to see Nao… do more.

"I don't," sighed Kai. He was entering a field he knew nothing about and it was making him uneasy. But he felt enchanted.

"Are you sure?"

"I'm not."

Nao was about to say something again but Kai interrupted him. He smashed his lips against Nao’s, trying to mimic what Nao did a moment ago. It made the older man chuckle but follow him slowly, giving Kai time to adjust.

"Do you want to go somewhere else?" After they stopped the second kiss Nao moved one of his hands from Kai’s back and touched his neck again. Kai shivered.

"Where?"

"My place?"

Kai made a quick, jerky nod, worried he would change his mind if he waited even a little bit of time.

…

"Look at that, the young boss is coming back from his date the next day and in the same clothes."

Kai would do anything to slip by the welcoming committee and into his room, to at least change his clothes, but they were faster. Kurono, standing in the door, was smiling smugly. Eri was trying and failing to make a similar expression.

"Don't call me that."

"Where's your tie?"

Kai touched his chest and grimaced under the mask. He left his new, never used before tie ruined back at Nao’s place. Nao promised he would save it, though.

"I didn't have a tie." Kai could see how hard Kurono was holding himself back from laughing. He looked down at Eri. "And you?"

Eri blinked, looked at Kurono, looked down and murmured something but Kai couldn't hear her. He looked at Krono questioningly.

"What was that, Eri?" Kurono prompted her to speak louder.

"Why didn't you take me to the sleepover, uncle?" she said, this time loud enough. Kai felt a blush rising in his cheeks and was glad for his mask. He looked at Kurono and immediately realized he wouldn't be much of help, he was snickering into his hand.

"I didn't plan it. If I knew I'm going to stay over at Nao’s then maybe I would take you too."

Eri's eyes glimmered just slightly.

"Then! Can, can I go with you next time? For a planned sleepover?"

Kai gave himself an inner slap. He walked into that himself and had to come out with something now. So he crouched, observed by amused Kurono.

"How about the next time we invite Nao here?"

Eri's big eyes glimmered even more now. She nodded enthusiastically before Kai took a hold on her and lifted her up. She was fully clothed, she even wore her gloves, which she started doing more willingly after meeting Nao. Another good outcome of his existence.

Right after straightening Kai handed the girl to Kurono. He felt his back and hips protesting. And Kurono obviously noticed that something was off.

"Just make sure the exercises aren't too difficult once he stays for the night. We don't want to be woken up by you two."

"Exercise? Why would you exercise on a sleepover?"

Kai looked at Kurono tiredly and then at Eri. He entered the house.

"That's what adults do during sleepovers."

"Exercise?" She seemed offended. "That's boring."

"If he comes we're going to do what you want, okay?" Eri nodded with relief. It was almost funny, to be honest. "Did you have breakfast?"

Kai took off his shoes and entered the house. Kurono, holding Eri, moved after him.

"We didn't, she wanted to eat with you."

"I need to change first," sighed Kai. "Go to the kitchen, I'll join you."

Kurono smiled and put Eri down. She looked at him.

"I need to talk with your uncle about work, go first. You can prepare the table." Eri nodded and ran toward the kitchen. Kai looked after her, exasperated, then at Kurono, honestly expecting anything. "How was it? I assume good, since you're back in the morning?"

Kai readjusted his gloves, walking toward his room. He made sure they're intact before looking at Kurono again. He couldn't get rid of the memories from the night, how nice it was, how unexpectedly good it felt. And Kurono obviously noticed how he drifted away for a moment there.

"Was it that good?"

"I guess."

"Did you really have sex on your first date?"

"I- what? Where did you come out with that?" Was it really that obvious? Of course he ached here and there and his clothes were crinkled but-

"Did you miss the whole conversation we just had?" laughed Kurono.

"You didn't have to bring that up though."

"Maybe. But I need to know if we should celebrate or not." Kurono joked but at the same time took a cautious step away from Kai. Chisaki frowned, clenching his fists.

"You should celebrate being alive," he grumbled. Kurono was getting ahead of himself and Kai didn’t like that. "Go make some use of himself and make breakfast."

"Oh, didn't Nao treat you to-"

Kai shut the door to his room right in front of Kurono’s face.

#bnha #mha #overhaul #chisaki kai #overhaul x oc #bnha oc #mha oc #bnha writing #mha writing #original character

[afterthelastreset]

Rules Of One’s Soul Ch20 Date P4

(Warning: Past abuse mentioned, Plus minor panic attack. Mak belongs to @wasted-church )

"And then so I put the ace in the trunk Seam had levitated and pulled, pulled him out without anyone knowing. It used to be one of Queen Heart's favorite, favorite tricks of mine, mine. I think I also saw you there a few times, times."

"I was, but I nay had any time for shows with thine king's giving me so many duties to perform."

The floating jester next to him hummed and smiled brightly next to the duke. The two had been chatting about Jevil's old shows he'd perform along with some of Rouxls's old jobs and encounters with the younger royals. Or more specifically Jevil was talking and the duke went ahead and listened to whatever he had to say of course. He didn't mind the constant chattering, he was used to the King of Clubs many heads doing the same thing or Lancer babbling his child mind out. But he was surprised he wasn't more tired.

Well, he guessed it was official now. Rouxls Kaard, Duke of Puzzles, advisor and caretaker of King Lancer- Had finally fallen off the deep end or at least given up and accepted his fate of being surrounded by mad people and the chaos they bring into his life. But he had to debate really quick in his tired mind. Either let Jevil take him out on whatever hopefully not so chaotic outing he wanted and get it over with, or argue for hours until his lungs were burnt out only to be dragged off against his will or fight all over again. He believed the latter was more obvious. Hopefully it wouldn't take too long. But knowing Jevil it would take anywhere from a few minutes to the whole day, hopefully this'll be enough to suffice him. At least for the time being. Right now be had a resting tired and bored face as he allowed himself to be guided along upon the path to who knows where.

But much to his credit, though he'd hate to admit it, Jevil was at least behaving himself. The little imp had offered the poor tired duke his arm, which Rouxls politely declined for personal reasons and opened the door for him. Very gentlemanly- Which raised the worm's suspicions by tenfold. It wasn't like Jevil to be so...calm for more than a few seconds. He knew he wouldn't be acting like this for a good reason, but what for he wouldn't know. Which begs the question. Shouldn't he be more suspicious right now? He's been feeling unusally calm as of late, different from the start of this week or....Well everyday he could remember before this week. It was weird. He still felt suspicious and if he were to be honest a little scared of the whole thing but...He couldn't help but find it strange, so he shrugged it off for now. It was just probably his mind subconsciously becoming more adapted to his new surroundings or maybe he really did need a break from it all.

'There. See? This isn't so bad. It's a nice day and Jevil's sure to make it worth your while. Look at the giant smile on his face-' 'Silence worm! I still has to keepeth mine guard on in case somethinge happens!' 'Still afraid over what happened with her? It was so long ago-'

"HE CLAWED MY FACE!!''

A surge of anger erupted from the deepest depths of his soul and whatever was going on around him halted in a second. His soul thumped from within his chest and he took a few breaths just staring at the ground to pay any real attention that Jevil had stopped talking about whatever he was going on about and staring dead at him. The floating jester blinked in shock at the heaving duke and froze at his reaction. He could feel the sudden spike of anger come from the glossy eyed worm at he stared dead at the ground, but as quickly as it came it seemed the duke remembered the other person there and slowly turned his glossy eyes towards him. Jevil couldn't make out what the duke was thinking just staring at him- No. Not staring at him. Staring through him. Almost like Rouxls was in some kind of stuper.

"...Rouxls, Rouxls?"

....The duke blinked, it seemed his brain had caught up with his brain and his blurry vision of three Jevils turned into one worried lookinh gremlin reaching his hand out to him. To which he instinctively took a few quick steps away.

"I-I amst fine!" His eyes quickly looked away as he still breathed deeply. "I-I...I just need a few moments."

Jevil didn't look the least bit convinced, but stayed silently staring at him. Rouxls knew the imp was staring at him but didn't let it show, instead straightening himself out and beginning to walk away on jello feeling legs. Jevil right beside him of course. The two walked in very uncomfortable silence for a moment before jevil looked back over to him and silently stared at the duke with a quizzical expression. ...This reaction of staring at nothing and freezing like a cornered rabbick was something he had seen before. Pretty small when he spooked him and he'd freeze and smile, but this was something a whole lot different. It was almost the same reaction he had from a few days ago, minus the sudden outburst just now- His yellow eyes grazed over the few scars across his face-

".....Rouxls?" The worm didn't look at him but made a small hum sound indicating he was listening. The fool nervously bit his bottem lip, maybe he shouldn't be asking so early into his date, heck. It could ruin the whole mood altogether. But-..."Are you feeling, feeling alright?"

".....I willst be fine."

"If you say so, so-"

"I do."

His tone told Jevil that was the end of that discussion, well for now at least. He now had a very concerned and curious idea about his reactions now, but to make the duke more comfortable and hopefully feel better he'd let it go for now. But he made a mental note to figure this out later. Putting on a smile he acted like what happened hadn't even happened, if there was one thing he was good at it was entertainment!

"I heard, heard you enjoyed knitting!" He smiled wider when then the duke's head slightly turned to him. At least that caught his interest. "Little Lancer had showed me, showed me your many scarves and sweaters you made him, him!" He pointed at him. "And you did, did buy wool, wool from Seam. I assumed you did it as a side hobby, hobby."

Rouxls gave off a chuckle and turned his head to him with a soft smile. "It tis. Overtime I just sold extra stock of mine skills to other's who clearly needed them."

Ah. There it was, the duke's pride starting to peek through. Something he loved to poke at and get his reactions out of, but for now he would build his pride up to make him feel better. Which is why he put on mock shock. "You're the one who made, made all those colorful comfy creations, creations? Very impressive.~"

The worm have a couple chuckles and gave him a smile. "Thoust really thinketh so? Tis just a simple hobby to earnest a few extra darke dollars to spoil myself with."

Jevil chuckled. "Well it certainly seems, seems you made a good profit from it."

Rouxls gave a slightly bigger smile and nodded. "Yes, but if I mayest be so bold to ask. Exactly where art thou taking mineself?"

Jevil's ears perked up and he let out another long stream of giggles Rouxls was so used to hearing by this point, he might as well just use giggling as his own language by this point. A lot of emotion was told through his giggles. Childish glees, amusement, happiness, excitement, and sometimes if he was stressed sadness and a few other feelings. It was really quite impressive to say the least. But he didn't answer the question, wherever they were headed must've at least been exciting to Jevil. Because the fool without so much as a second though wrapped a hand around his arm and began tugging him in a direction off the beaten path. He inctinctively froze at the first touch but the way Jevil pulled was strong enough to force the Duke to follow along whether his body told him otherwise or not, the jello feeling in his legs had mostly gone away but he still stumbled trying to match speed with the floating menace pulling him away from sight. A part of his brain should've been worried about this, but he guessed his curiousity had gotten the best of him. It took those blue eyes a moment to realize that the two were still going down a path, but it looked overgrown with dark grass and Dark candy trees all round them. Clearly no one had come down here in a long, long while. But that didn't seem to change the mood of the flying jester who never stopped tugging him forward. Trees passed and the path was slowly starting to open up ahead of them. The trees parted ways to make a small clearing in the middle of the forest, not too big of a clearing. It looked about the size of one of the Rudinn houses he's seen. And smack dab in the middle of this random clearing was a small tree. Compared to the other trees in the surrounding forests this one was considerably smaller and had a smaller trunk than the others. This one must've been a younger one. Couldn't be older than fifty years at most. He was easily pulled through the black as night grass and up to the small tree than stood proudly in the middle of the night grass. The air smelt heavily of grass and sweet, sweet marshmallow making his head swim slightly. His eyes mezmorized by the calmness of the area but blinked with curiousity back to Jevil.

"W-What is this place?"

They gradually came to a stop under the tree and Rouxls took in the sights of the brightly colored tree in front of them. Jevil giggled letting go of his hand and gesturing a hand to the spot they were standing.

"Lancer's friends, friends told me about this place, place. A vender once sold them an egg, egg once." He reached behind him and out of no where pulled out a flat round circle of some sorts. "Now-" Rouxls blinked and looked at him, making him smile. "How about a little magic, magic?"

Rouxls's curious head tilt was all the ok he needed to go ahead and punch his other hand into the blank circle. It went through and with a 'POP' sound the back popped out into what was reveled to be a top hat, with his hand still inside the hat he reached about elbow deep inside rummaging around a little before his hand quickly pulled back out. A pure white blanket rippled out and Rouxls rose a brow at him. What was Jevil going to do with that? Well, his question was answered when the hat was made to levitate in mid air and he lifted the blanket up and over neatly. It came down and.....completely stopped in mid air. Rouxls had to blinked a few times to actually register what he was seeing. The blanket had stopped in the EMPTY mid air and Jevil was currently soothing the wrinkles out like he was placing a tablecloth upon a table, before turning around casually back to the hat and reaching back in like he did this everyday- Meanwhile, the worm blinked and held his hand out to the floating cloth as if unsure what he should do, after a moment of reluctance he finally placed a firm hand on the blanket...and jumped when he felt a solid surface. He thumped his hand onto the table...Then again, and again. And then bent over lifting the cloth back...And his jaw opened in confused shock she he saw not only the underside of a table, but four neat table legs going all the way down to the ground below. The sound of imp giggles reached his ears and so he looked up only to stare in more shocked wonder at the table. Two plates, silverware, and of all the ckeeky things a golden candle holder. Jevil was in the middle of pulling long white candles out of his hat and placing them into the holders onto the table before he finished and looked at Rouxls with a wide mischevious grin. The worm still stared in dumbfounded wonder at the sudden appearance at the whole set up. "You might want to stand back, back." Before Rouxls could ask what he meant Jevil turned back to the candles, sucking in a breath between his fangs making it sound like a hiss sound. His cheeks slowly puffed out until each looked about as big as his fist. Rouxls rose a brow and opened his mouth to ask what he was doing, but Jevil had already opened his mouth...And a sudden bright light spilt from his mouth. A yelp was earned out of him from the sudden stream of warm blistering fire shot out and in the directions of the candles. Jevil could breath FIRE?! When has he been able to do that?! No sooner as it was said and done was there three simple little candles a blaze on the table completing Jevil's little scene. With a smile he turned back to the staring worm and giggled getting his attention back onto him. With a flick of his wrist the hat disappeared and he gave a small bow to his one man audience. "What do you think, think?"

He opened his mouth, but blinked and looked back the display before him. "Tis....a-a remarkable showmanship of magic. *Ahem* I applaud thou's efforts. V-Very well done."

Jevil looked relatively pleased with himself and gestered to one side of the table he had conjured up. "Please have a seat, seat."

"There are nay any-" He shut up the moment he looked over at where he was pointing and saw a chair that clearly wasn't there before. Jevil giggled and he made a small frown, but did hesitantly go over to the small chair and slowly sat down in it. He stared down on it with a weary expression for a few seconds before moving his eyes back towards the still floating Jester. Jevil currently had himself in a crisscrossed sitting position and giving him a weary smile.

"Do you like it, like it?"

"It is...not exactly what I was expecting so early in thine morning-" He gave a small smile to the loon. "But tis a b-better surprise then I thoughtest is wouldst be."

Jevil took that as a compliment and put an almost smug look on his face. "Of course, of course. I knew asking King, King Hearts was bound to be a game changing play, play.~"

This time the duke snickered and rose a brow playfully. Slightly leaning on the table. "Oh. Don't tellest me that THEE Amazing Jevil who couldst doth anything needed some advice on something as simple as breakfast with mineself?"

This time it was Jevil's turn to pause...before coughing and tapping one of his hands on his leg. "Well, well....Sometimes to play the game of hearts one must gather a few game plans, plans from other's who has experienced such things before. We all have different approaches, approaches to achieving the checkmate."

"Oh? And I don't supposeth this grand checkmate tis mine affections tis it?"

"Correct, correct."

Jevil wasn't even trying to be discreet about it. That could be a good thing. At least he wasn't hiding anything, being blunt and forward must've been how he usually do things. It would make sense with his big, loud personality. Seam was the one who seemed the more likely to use trickery as he had unknowingly agreed to go with him to the silly ball, but I digress. Perhaps this wouldn't be so bad- No sooner when he thought that a loud rumble came from below and the duke winced undignantly, putting a hand to his stomach. Well, he was certainly a fool for skipping breakfast now wasn't he. The rumble certainly got the attention of the imp because he gave a cheeky grin and his tail wagged behind him.

"Oh? Are we hungry, hungry?"

"M-Mayhaps a bit."

"Hehehe. More shine to dazzle, dazzle any audience!" He giggled before holding his arms out to where they were pressed together and in the middle of the table. Before slowly moving his arms wide like expecting a hug-...What the fucketh?! As he slowly moved his arms, a few portions of food appeared slowly as his arms passed upon the table. When Jevil's arms finally reached the ends of said table, he retreated them back to his sides and giggled at the wide eyed worm again. "You like, like it?~"

"..." With wide eyes he slowly looked back up to him with wonder. "How didst thou-"

He was silenced by Jevil holding up a finger. "Ah, ah, ah. A true magic maker never, never kiss and tells....Maybe a small reward, reward for this would be enough?~"

His purr made a shiver run down the duke's spine for some unknown reason and he destracted himself from Jevil's gaze by looking down at what he happened to summon up.....Wait a second. His eyes blinked down at the food upon Jevil's plate, the familiar star shaped black marshmallow scented candies were all he had on his plate and the duke gave him a questioning look, as if to say, "Are you seriously eating nothing but candy for breakfast?' Jevil chuckled at the duke's obviously disapproving face and casually pointed to his side of the table. Rouxls rolled his eyes and followed the direction of the pointing claw and blinks. The own plate in front of him was filled with the very, VERY unbelievable sight of steaming palace deluctables he hadn't laid eyes upon within the ten grueling days he had been he had been in this excile of the vacation on his existance. OH SWEET LIGHTNER!! The smell! It was heavenly like a river of honey that made his mouth water and he couldn't help but widen his eyes at the sight before him. Jevil raised a hand about to comment on how comical his expression was, but was silenced by the sight of the duke, in a not so very noble upper class way mind you, started digging into the food resented before him with vigor. Black and yellow eyes blinked in shock as he watched the un-Duke-ly sight before him....You'd think Rouxls was starving himself with the way he was contently eating the food placed before him with a pleased hum. ...Well wasn't this a familiar sight, his smile stretched back, he remembered a certain little round prince happily humming and shoveling down food whenever he was given a snack. Like father like son. His giggled must've caught the worm off guard because he froze and stared at him like a deer in headlights.

"Someone, someone likes my cooking, cooking?" He leaned his head in his hand staring at him sideways with a cheeky grin.

Rouxls cleared his throat and immediately straightened up into a proper pose, with a serious face. "W-Well when one has been eating nothing but fat inducing sweets and whatever mediocre substinance Seam selleths within his shoppe for days on end, one would greatly miss thine..." He stopped and stared at the grinning menace, then down to his food and back. "...THOU haseth cooked this??"

His shoulders shrugged without changing his position and with his other hand flicked his hand and a dark candy floated off the plate and up to his face. "I used to help, help my dear mother cook for Queen Heart many, many years ago.~ " He purred with a far away look as if remembering a memory, the candy tossed into his open jaws with a snap. "I may have picked up, up a few things from my times helping, helping. You like it?"

"Tis..d-delightful. Thank thee."

A silence peacefully fell between the two as they stared down to the set up in front of them. Well at least Rouxls did, he felt the beady eyes of the other man studying his every move but decided against engaging. The quicker this finished, the quicker he could be back and ready himself to go back first thing in the morning. Just the sight of his boy excitedly running up to him put a smile on his face. You bet that smile didn't slide past those watchful black and yellow eyes who smiled back at the prospect of pleasing his soulmate. It made his soul thumped with pride. Though this silent staring contest was something he started to find boring, if he could he would stare at the duke all day, but that's not what his interests were at that moment. But the silent pause did give him a good chance to look at Mr. Kaard in a calmer state. The candlelight make his already shiny white hair glimmer, and highlight the pure white lashes blinking downwards, his dark blue skin with the few white specks which he assumed were Rouxls's kind's aquivilant of freckles. Over all he was very pretty. It was easy to see why the sweet talking duke had so many admirers...The thought of anyone else taking him though made a jealous tight feeling come from his throbbing soul but was pushed aside for now. He was trying not to come off as crazy after all. ..But looking at his face, he could still see the few scars that lined his faces- This time his frown was imminate. The shout from earlier came back crossing his mind and he hummed.

The pointed blue ears caught that hum and despite him gut feelings he looked up and paused at the yellow eyes studying him up and down. He had a bad feeling about this. "...W-What?"

"...Nothing, nothing. Just admiring, admiring how delightfully different you look."

A confused brow rose, his mind contanplating whether he should take it as a compliment or not, but settled on an unsure smile. "W-Well of course!" Rouxls sat up proudly and placed a hand to his chest. "Not many are able to matcheth thine likes of mineself.~"

Making Jevil giggle a few time but he went back to a more slightly concerned looking face. The repeat of Kaard's yelling on loop throughout his mind and his other half calculating his enevitable approach to this. His conscious was already crawling up his back, and he had a sneaking suspicion there was something lingering behind that smile the duke always put up in times like this. And the sudden outbursts of yelling was a big give away for that. Well this would definitely throw a monkey wrench into his plans, but luckily he thought of a way to hopefully get to the bottom of everything- Why don't they play just a teeny tiny little numbers game?~

Jevil giggled, his face lighting up as a lightbulb went off in his head. And his head came down to rest ontop of his clasped hands. "You know, you know.~ We never got to finish that game, game you started in my old little freedom.~" The worm stopped halfway through bringing the fork to his mouth and raising a brow to Jevil. A giggle escaped his lips and he proceeded. "It's just a simple numbers, numbers game.~ Nothing too complicated."

The worm slowly put the fork back down onto his plate and gave him a suspicious look. "..And pretail what are thine rules of this 'game' thou speakest of?"

Well that wasn't a no.

His smile got wider and he chuckled yet again. Inspecting the claws on his hands and shrugging casually. "Ever played the game, game truth or dare?" The duke now looked even more suspicious but slowly nodded his head. He had played this ridiculous game with Lancer once or twice when he had (forced him into going) invited him to his sleepovers. The game was utterly ridiculous, but considering whatever Jevil was comparing it too- He grinned and looked at him. "It's like, like that but with no dares."

"So, thou only askeths the truths?"

"Correct, correct." His smile promised nothing but mischief in the worm's eyes. "Ask, ask each other five questions, questions each we shall do. And with each question comes, comes the complete and full honest to lightner truth. ...How about it?~" Rouxls was looking at him as if he had just asked if his face was a mask and to pull it off. Him?! Playing a one sided game of truth and dare with Jevil?! Oh golly gee wizz! How could this go wrong? Jevil must've noticed because he held up a hand assuringly. "I promise, promise I will be as honest and truthful as long as you are, are. And they won't be too, too difficult to answer. Lightner's honor!"

Rouxls still stared blankly at him with a flush look, but after a moment he let out a shaky sigh. Was there anyway around this? Perhaps. He vaguely remembered that the loon promised to respect his boundaries and yet...The promise of getting any information out of this confusing little monkey was honestly very tempting. He could ask what he had planned for this petty soulmate game. He could find out why he insisted they were meant to be?....He could ask how he was taking care of Lancer. That last one perked his interest entirely. The wide eyed realization on his face making Jevil smile wider almost to his ears. But soon enough a professional 'Ahem' came from the Duke and he stared at him with a stern business meeting face.

"Jevil. I willst accept thine uh-...'game', but on thine condition. Thou willst not asketh me any question that art of no concern to thou. If thou knowest what I meaneth."

He giggled. "Agreed, agreed. Shall I go first?" The duke nodded professionally and gestured to him the go ahead. OH! This made his tail wag faster in undeniable fashion. OH! The possibilities of what he could ask! But he had to remember to keep composure. Wouldn't want to scare him after all. He already had one question he had on his mind for a while. "Why does the little, little King refer to you as his sire?"

The worm blinked, completely thrown off at the question. He was fully expecting something childish but- "What?"

"You can't deny my curiousity, curiousity. It's quite obvious you two are not blood, blood related," he said while motioning his hand to him as if to point out their clearly different features. "Yet he looks at and speaks of you like you were. Adoption, adoption like Mak and Seam you are?"

The duke's eyes fell back down to the plate and if Jevil wasn't mistaken, a hint of sadness fell upon those mitch-matched eyes of his. "I-....I madest a p-promise to someone I...c-c-cared about to looketh after him. A long...longeth time ago."

A small silence fell on the two, and it accured to Jevil that that was the most he was going to get out of that question as the duke picked away at the obviously suddenly interesting food. Ok. Maybe a bad question to start out with but he had to-...How did Lancer say it?- roll with the punches? Was that it? Strange expressions.

"I believe, believe one turn earns another."

"Hmm?......OH! R-Righteth. Um..." Blue fingers tapped on the table as the question of what he desperately wanted to know. "What of Lancer? Didst thou follow all thine rules I gaveth thee?" His eyes narrowed at the floating loon.

Jevil sighed and rolled his eyes. "Yes, yes. Make sure he ate healthy, read him a bedtime story every night, make sure, sure the pawns-...servants, servants cleaned his room." He examined his claws and glanced at the slight scowl Rouxls was giving him and sighed with another eye roll. "Baths. Totors, totors. Playtime. And of course, course no where near the dungeon." He gave him a smile. "But of course he's been handling, handling any king duties with help from the other Kings. Have more faith in me, me."

Rouxls hummed and still gave him a suspicious look but relaxed back just a tiny bit. "We shall see upon mine return tomorrow."

"Correct, correct." He smirked. "And that counted as two questions.~"

"WHAT?!" The worm's famous annoyance flared across his face but it did little to nothing to intimidate the floating loon who just giggled. "That nay counts!!"

"Ah, ah, ah.~" The same finger came up to wag at him. "Now, now. We agreed to five, five questions each, each. You never said you or me could ask more than one, one in a row. You only laid one rule and one rule I have followed indeed."

Rouxls growled and mumbled under his breath but let his shoulders slump defeated and said, "FINE!! But thou couldst best considerate and doth the same with thine next pair."

He giggled turning to lay on his side in mid air. "Fair enough. Fair enough. And after my two that will make us both, both just an equal two of hearts to go.~" He ended that sentence with a wink and Rouxls gave an embarrased mumble at that. But seriously back on the topic the gremlin hummed and tapped his fingers against each other. What infinate details of the duke would he want to know most in the world right now? He had quite a few, the scars being one. But he wanted to calm down that anoyance from earlier. So why not a realatively normal and safe one? Or two. Turning back to Rouxls, he asked, "What do you like, like about myself if anything at all? Or Seam for that matter?"

Another silence fell upon the two from that question. Rouxls stared and blinked at the ever patiently waiting Jevil, his brain trying to process the questions just asked to him. He wanted to hear what? Praise from him? Did he want to point out all the good details, the few he even saw, and tell them to him. His soul gave a giant leap at the idea and it seemed his mind flooded with the sudden thought of 'Hey! This is a good idea!' no matter how much his rational brain told him otherwise. Here we go again.

But no matter what happens he would stay professional. So he shrugged calmly. "What tis there to really say about? Thou art very troublesome there's that," He looked back to his food to avoid the small frown slowly appear on Jevil's face. "Thou art also very clingy, bothersome...but very determined." Jevil blinked as the duke's expression became thoughtful. And he...chuckled. "Thou art worse than Lancer. Once a thought appears thou nay stop til thine job is done. And making so many things appear-.." His fingers drummed against the surface of the table again as if not quite beleiving it was still there. "..Tis fascinatinge. I amst impressed with thine magical capabilities thou has demonstrated. And Seam haseth his own magically surprises. He tis very calmeth and can holdest a decent conversation, very good from thine castle staff." He chuckled a memory going back to that awkward small hug just a few days ago. "And I meant what I said. Thou art a funny little man."

He chuckled at the mischieve making Lancer would usually do around the castle and- OH! Oh, no. He certainly hoped Jevil's bad influence hadn't rubbed off on him too much, then he would have a real problem on his hands. Chuckling his eyes glazed back up to Jevil and blinked. The imp was almost limply sitting in the middle of the air, silently staring at him. His eyes wide, his ears drooping, and a light purple flush dusting across his cheeks. For a moment the worm thought he had upset the gremlin, and a small feeling of gult throbbed from somewhere within his body. Until a small sniff came from him and he went into full blown panic that he had made Jevil cry-

"T-That's..That's the most..*sniff* nicest t-thing you have ever, ever said about m-me." A shaky smile came over his features and if it weren't for the table between them he would've lunge at him in happiness now.

Rouxls held out a hand hesitantly. "A-Art thou ok?"

"Y-Yeah..Im fine, fine." With a flick of his wrist a tissue appeared and he blew his non-existant nose into it. "My, my world is just revolving with my heart."

Rouxls chuckled and smiled at the sweet sight before him. It was honestly kinda sweet. Oh! He was forgetting something. "Mayhaps I couldst casheth in another ask in our 'game'?"

"Go ahead, go ahead."

"Why is it thou speakest in double tongue?" Jevil blinked confused behind wiping his face. "Why doth thou repeat words?"

Jevil shrugged. "I know not. I have done it, done it for as long as I could remember, remember. A habit I shall keep I suppose."

Well that was probably the most straight forward answer he had gotten such far. He wondered how many more he would receive. A part of him wondered how many of the answers were actual truth and if he was actually being truthful at all, but for some reason he felt as if it was truth somehow.

"Why do YOU speak, speak the way you do?" Rouxls blinked at him. "It's only fair I ask about your own, own strange way of speaking."

Rouxls...looked back to his plate for a moment. "....Tis h-how mine family used to speakest. T-They wereth very...tradional of olde ways. I guesseth olde habits nay die hard." Jevil could sense a hint of sandess within his words but didn't have a chance to linger on the thought when Rouxls's eyes looked back to him with interest. At the mention of family it sparked some kind of curiousity, as he remembered he had never seen any other person like Jevil and beleive me. Being the royal advisor for over a hundred years attending royal meetings with other kingdoms, and meeting many, many different darkner people he had seen the oddest people on this plain of existance. But he had never seen someone like jevil. Literal spring neck, constant flow of powerful magic obviously considering how often he can just float in mid air, and other strange features were something he hasn't ever seen before. How was he even eating- Perhaps he hailed from a different dark of the Dark World? And before he stop himself the words tumbled out. "What art thou?"...Jevil tilted his head obviously confused at what he meant and Rouxls cleared his throat. "I-I mean. Thine species. I shan't remember ever seeing anyone like thou before."

Jevil paused, but smiled taking his exotic looks as another compliment and flattered the duke would take notice of such. And so a string of giggles came out and he leaned forward with a purr. "Very wise observation, observation, Dear Duke.~" He then shrugged. "To stay honest with our game, game I haven't the faintest close of most that make up my lineage, lineage. But I do remember my dear mother having the same spring, spring in her step as I and my sire, sire was of the Joker lines."

Rouxls stared at him for what seemed like an eternity, before blinking. "Art thou saying that thou tis a mix of other Darkners?"

"Yes, yes. Very spot on, spot on!"

Well...This certainly explained things. Darkners of mixed lines were certainly of no rarity but he never suspected Jevil to be one of them. With the power he had demonstrated he was sure he was at least of Tarot Kaard decent, but maybe he still was. He did say he was of Joker Kaard decent, well no matter. That cleared up a lot of his confusion and curiousity at least.

"But that was six questions, questions in total, total!" More excited giggles. "You're all out now. But I have one, one left to ask of you."

Rouxls sighed and shook his head. One more question and one more silly answer to give. But he could bare it. He made a gesture for Jevil to go ahead and finish this silly thing once and for all.....But silence stared it. Those Yellow and black eyes glazed over his face and the toothy smile upon his face slowly disappeared the more he stared. Kaard stared back blinking and his brow raising the longer Jevil stared. By now the only sound was the leaves of the leave above and around them as the wind gently pushed through them. It was quiet....Too quiet. Very unlike Jevil. The pit in his stomach from before started to creep back in now-

"Rouxls, rouxls." The sound of his voice made him jump, and the sheer tone of dead seriousness dripping from it was suprising. Jevil was staring at him with a calm, serious look before letting out a long sigh. "How did you receive those markings?"

He suddenly felt like he was falling. Oh no he hoped he didn't faint again. The only that might've kept him up was the sheer shock of the question asked or maybe the sheer serious no nonsesne face on the happy go lucky jester. His soul thumped hard against his chest and his eyes quickly fell back to the table to avoid eye contact from the stare from the other man. Jevil just stared silently, as if one had all eternity to wait for this silent haired man.

".....T-That tis n-no concern to thou." He finally forced out.

"Corection, correction! We agreed nothing that didn't concern, concern either of us. But I think this does, does." His head lowered turning sideways. "You already answered that question partically earlier, earlier though. Did you not?" Rouxls's ears drooping was all the answer he needed. "...Is that why you are so against this. this?" One of his hands gestured to the table and everything on it.

Rouxls still remained silent. Eyes still staring blankly on the table- "Tis was of mine own foolish young feelings." Jevil blinked when he finally stared up to him a frown on his face. "Tis...my own fault. I f-foolishly....Foolishly thought that it wouldst be-...That she wouldst...The...Q-Q-Queen..."

His teeth gritted together and his hands clenched up! A lot of things hit him at once, anger, regret, sorrow. He could write a whole sonata of things. His eyes once again stared blankly again and his visio blurred. His soul radiated sadness and he wasn't the only one who sensed it. He didn't see the wave of clawed hands, or notice the dim lighting from no more candles, or the fact that the smell of any foof beyond the candy on the trees were gone, or that everything on the table minus the cloth had suddenly disappeared. What he did notice, was the gripping of his hand, which he jumped at, his rapidly blinking eyes clearing up enough to catch the sight of slightly smaller hands grabbing his. And looking up into the silent face of the the small loon.

Tis funny how one's face could give off thoughts without saying anything at all. It read "I know now. I know exactly what happened." Which made him internally wince. But at the same time it read, "I know exactly how you feel."

"...Im sorry, sorry for your loss. I felt empty, empty too when I made, made the mistake of cheating life's game and thrown into my small freedom, freedom. ....I put Seam, Seam into a difficult situation of choosing moves and he made the right one...one." His voice was almost hollow with sadness despite the small smile he tried to put on for him. ".....I lost, lost my oldest friend."

"But...t-thou art still friends now, and all is forgiven. A-Arn't thou?"

He gave a small chuckle. "Heh. Yes, yes. But only because Seam is a forgiving, forgiving soul. Im very fortunately he decided to do so, so."

Another small pause, but Jevil blinked and looked down when he felt the blue hand squeezing him back, then looked up to Rouxls in surprise question. Rouxls gave him a ...small smile of his own.

"Mayhaps....we art more alike than I thought. Jevil, thou art a o-oddity I shan't ever understand fully...but t-thou art a kind and ...perhaps I darsay misunderstood man...And I thank thee f-fully for that."

He stared at the worm in front of him, this silly silly worm with the beautifully glowing hair and the cute small gap between his teeth in his small smile. And the cool water balloon like skin gripping his own at this very sweet moment. If he was watching this game as an outsider, he would've laughed at how they were literally arguing over this less than five days ago, but right now it didn't seem any of that or anything else mattered. Not Seam. Not adorable little Lancer. Not the game or the threat of Seam winning even in the slightest. Not even the topic they had been discussing just a few seconds ago. The wind blew some more rustling the leaves and driving the intoxicating sweet marshamllow scent around them more. And blowling some of that pretty hair into his face, which he immediately reached to pull away and Rouxls made no move to stop him from doing that. Or removing the hand that now cupped his cheek. Maybe it really was a mutual madness they both shared or some form of chaos in their lives, but right now....With them being so close...And so vulnerable. It was only natural of course-.. It's what soulmates do-.. Of course they would since-...

They kissed.

******************************************************************************************

The sheap was peaceful today. No customers had come in today and he was good and content to just relax in his favorite armchair in the back room and lazily watch the fire. Cup of warm catnip tea in his paws. Beside him the small child laid on their stomach drawing with some strange objects called crayons or the like, he once took a peek over to see what they were drawing and smiled upon seeing a funny looking purple man who may or may not have looked familiar to someone they both knew, surrounded by attacks of every suit and wearing what looked like a crown made of spoons. ...Or maybe that was just because his one eye vision wasn't the best. He chuckled and went back to watching the fire in front of them. It warm glow made his cotton fuzzy and he sunk back down into the chair more-

The clear sound of the sheap's flap opening and closing made him blink and sit back up. Oh? A customer perhaps? When he turned his head he caught sight of a floating imp he knew all too well and he smiled.

"Well, well. Back so soon?..Or I guess not. It has been almost seven hours by now Old friend."

The child excitedly bounced up catching sight of the jester dad and spilt the drawing tools in their hurry to bounce up to him and excitedly shove the picture into his face. "For you!"

The jester paused looking at the paper, before taking it with a smile and giving the child a couple patts on the head. Which they laughed at and ran off to a different corner of the room to do whatever they usually did, Jevil smiled watching them go before looking back to the picture with a smile....Then it slowly dripped to a frown. Seam caught wind of that and gave a hum. He wasn't looking so happy. Maybe the little plan didn't end in victory like he wanted? The imp looked into the prying eyes of the cat and floated towards him, still holding the paper.

"I take it the little outting was not a pleasant one?"

Jevil shook his head. "On the contrary, contrary. It was quite breathtaking."

"Then why the long my friend. Did the duke not return what you were hoping for?"

Jevil gave him a serious look which he hummed at. Must've been something really important to get that look in his eyes. "We need to discuss, discuss something of upmost importance this instant."

"Enlighten me, friend. Im all ears."

#fanfic #jevil #seam #rouxls kaard #rouxls x jevil #rouxls x seam #rouxls kaard x seam #rouxls kaard x jevil #seam x jevil #jevil x seam #seam x rouxls #jevil x rouxls #rouxlvil #rouxvil #nosuit #seaxls #seavil #jeam #Deltarune

[bnhablessings]

I was thinking about a one-shot in a modern AU where Mina is a really successful fashion designer and fem!Reader works at some lame retail job but dreams of becoming a model. That's all I really have for a concept and was hoping to leave the rest up to you haha. My bi-ass heart needs more best girl content;;

Challenge accepted for taking this anywhere. Mina deserves love and it is my first female character request so thank you omg. I have been waiting for this moment.

I use everyone’s last names but with Mina, I always use her first name, yes I know that it looks weird because of that haha

Warnings: All characters are aged up, Fluff and silliness, just a wee little bit of angst

Words: 2693

Ashido Mina x Female Reader

The clock seems to take forever as your shift comes to a close. Soon, just soon you can go home and have the next day off. You desperately needed it. This week and the hours here have been so long. If only some entity would have mercy on you for things to by faster.

Unfortunately, you were tasked with dealing with the last three customers before closing time. Your manager of course already dealing with the cash registers, not in use, and fixing up the store. Your eyes remained glue to the three adults that seem your age. They looked awfully familiar too.

“Dude! Look, look! I fucking told you she would grow! She has her own section here,” The black-haired male states.

The redhead looks to be entranced and the dorky blond with them starts to take photos immediately. You gave them a few minutes but now… It appears they have no sense of the time. Or they don’t care about making the employee suffer.

“Kaminari, you’re smallest of us, you should try on the clothes for her. Don’t you think so Sero?” The redhead asks with a stunning smile.

Sero just snickers and Kaminari seems to actually consider the idea. Not wanting them to risk endangering the clothing you are quick to sneak up behind them and speak.

“Is there something you are looking for in particular?” You force a smile that shows the exhaustion you are feeling.

However, they seem dense to your state as all three of them share a look and somehow come up with an idea. It’s written all over their faces and somehow you fear they are all sharing one singular brain cell between them.

“What the hell is taking you guys so long?” A new voice questions behind you.

It nearly made you wet yourself from how aggressive the voice is and how it came from out of nowhere. However, when you turn around to see the person you smile from seeing the familiar face. “Kaachan!”

You ignore the wince Bakugou makes from the nickname and throw your arms around him. To your surprise, he doesn’t push you away at all. Instead, he returns the hug but with complete rigidness.

“What? You know the pretty lady?” Kaminari asks.

You ignore the flirty tone he uses as Bakugou nods his head. He really has changed a lot from the last time you saw him in your primary school years. He’s not as… aggressive. It’s still there but he appears more gentle.

“Yeah. She’s my childhood friend. (Nickname), these are the stupid extras I’ve hung out with during high school,” Bakugou says looking away.

You can see he truly cares for them. You also realize that is why they all look familiar. You recognize them from Bakugou’s social media posts and tags he was included in.

The redhead smiles even brighter (somehow that seems so impossible from how smiley he already is). He shares his idea that the other two boys had with him earlier. “Well, I am Kirishima. That is Kaminari and Sero. Right when you asked us if we were looking for anything particular we had an idea! We were wondering if you would be willing to try on some of these clothes for us. You see our friend loves this brand and wasn’t able to come shopping with us-“

Bakugou is already trying to disuse the idea planted within their heads. The whole thing is rather endearing. It’s been a while since you last saw a group of adult friends like this. It definitely reminds of your high school days.

“Don’t say anymore. I would love to model for you guys. It will have to real quick though we are closing soon,” You state.

The three boys cheer with victory as Bakugou just huffs. The three choose a few pairs of clothing to mix and match before sending you off to the dressing room. Bakugou thankfully keeping your manager busy and away with his glare. Like the manager even cares.

In the dressing room, you observe the clothing brand they want you to try. The brand name is Ashido but the name is in a heart. It was cute. The clothing itself is to die for if you were being honest. It wasn’t exactly cheap but not too expensive either. From the clothing, they gave you it looks as if the designer was trying to aim for a cool “hip” chic design. Almost tomboyish but could be matched with other clothing to find a perfect match for someone’s personal taste.

It honestly makes your chest start to bloom with excitement.

Your personal dream of becoming a model trying to rise with each passing moment of putting on the clothes. You manage to ignore it until you come out of the dressing room and all four boys’ mouths drop open.

It takes a few seconds before one of them manages to snap the photo. “Holy fuck, you look gorgeous!” Kaminari states.

“Here try a few more poses than one more outfit, please! We owe you one for this!” Kirishima says trying to get the heat he’s feeling on his cheeks to go away.

You shrug but do as asked and honestly you live for it. They start hyping you up and you end up trying on two more outfits. Time passed by the blink of an eye and your heart wanted to burst from how much fun you were having with this small group.

Eventually, though, all good things have to come to an end. Bakugou breaks things up from becoming too restless which is good since your manager was now giving you the even eye. You looked at the time and saw it was half an hour past closing. Oops.

You are quick to change to your clothing and kick them out with a goodbye, clocking out, and apologizing to your irritated manager. Thankfully you get off with just a warning since you both have a good relationship with each other which is all just bonding over the sadness of working at this stressful job.

By the time you reach your car you get a message from a number, you don’t know and a smile spreads on your face as you see it’s signed from Bakugou.

Bakugou: *Sent Image* You don’t look half bad. Sorry, those damn extras took their time.

That was it but it made you happy to see that Bakugou has grown from such an intolerable little brat to a little bit hostile but tolerable man. And his friends? You already adore them but too bad it was only for a moment.

The new thought makes your heart have that sinking feeling and gives you a small feeling of dread. You quickly try to reverse the thought. Tomorrow you get your day off!

“Then it is back to the normal schedule,” You mutter.

Wow… There goes for trying to be positive. You rest your head for a moment on the steering wheel before gathering yourself together.

~*~

“Whoa! Who is she?! She’s so pretty! Look at her! Look at my clothing! They fit her so well she could be a model!” Mina states while holding onto her phone with an inhuman grip.

The pictures Kirishima sent were spectacular.

Kirishima laughs and points to their blond friend. “You got lucky then. Kaminari was the one ready to model your clothing. You’re getting pretty big with your name out there, keep it up, bro!” He says happily.

“Yeah, I would’ve been a great model too! You two joining us. It’s been a while since we all played a game,” Kaminari says changing the subject as he pulls out a few remotes to his console.

The two ignore him and Sero is the one to take a remote while speaking up. “That girl though? She was so cute and nice! You would’ve liked her Mina.”

Mina nods with excitement as she observes your features in the picture. “Oh my god. I just had a great idea! She should actually model for my designs!”

“Really? Are they hiring?” Kirishima asks.

Mina can feel the excitement grow as she latches onto the idea. She replies to his question, “Well sort of! I need to get my designing team in on it but once they agree they’ll hire her. We need her to create a portfolio though…”

“Why not go and ask her?” Kaminari asks.

The suggestion makes Mina feel rather light and fuzzy and the desire to recruit this astonishing female is too strong. Of course, her three close friends had to crush her hope immediately. “I don’t know man, isn’t that weird? Shouldn’t you get to know her first? See what type of worker she is?” Kirishima questions.

“I don’t know. If Bakugou was that nice to her I think that is equivalent to being an amazing worker.”

Mina decides to ignore them now. With one final look at the photo, a feeling of giddiness enters her. It’s final. She decided that this beautiful girl is going to be her model! Of course, that means she has to have her roommates take her to the store. So that is exactly what they do the next day.

The group minus Bakugou went straight there to look for her only to see that she wasn’t there. They did ask if she was working today from the employees saying they aren’t allowed to disclose any information.

“Well, what about the manager working last night? I would like to report him for…” Kaminari starts only to not come up with anything.

It was truly a good try but nothing came from it. They are on the verge of giving up when (Name) herself comes out of the employees’ area with a small box in her arms and her eyes slightly red and puffy from obvious crying.

~*~

You hate getting all emotional but truly you have a good reason. You just wish you could hold it in longer. The slight sniffling is the dead giveaway that you are coming close to crying. The feeling worsens only slightly upon seeing the familiar faces from last night with a brand new face.

However, you don’t interact with them all and even ignore their concerned looks.

You can’t talk when you are on the verge of tears so you rush past them and ignore their calls. Without any second thoughts, you hop into the car of your friend’s and start bawling your eyes out as he starts to take you home.

Thankfully, he doesn’t say a word until he reaches your place. Though you can feel his dread and worry for you that is practically leaking from him.

“Do you want me to come in and make you a warm beverage?”

You shake your head and hold the box tightly. “No thank you. You driving me home was enough for me. Thank you so much Izuku. You’re my best friend and you’re always there for me. I don’t know what I would’ve done without you.” You are quick to give him a brief hug so you don’t worry him any further.

Then you leave his car and disappear into your apartment where you feel the dread of what happened sinking in. Not knowing what else to do you go into defense mode and curl up into a blanket on the couch.

You are unsure how much time passes by but when you do come to it is because someone is knocking on your door. The knocks are gentle before turning harsh. There are multiple voices and that confuses you until you open the door.

Bakugou stands in the doorway and he is quick to say, “Sorry these damn extras wanted to come over and stupid Deku told me the address.”

The other three boys give you the puppy eyes, begging to know what happened. The girl with them stares at you with curiosity and concern. You invite them all in deciding the company is worth it rather than the dread you would feel by yourself.

“I got fired. So did my manager.”

All of them fall silent as they suddenly piece together what happened. “It’s our fault,” Kirishima murmurs.

You shake your head. “No. It was my fault. To be honest, the management team was looking for any excuse to get rid of a few employees. Not my loss but the panic of not having a job is slowly setting in. I’ll be fine but it is a bit scary.”

They stay silent not knowing what to say. That is until Bakugou stands up. “C’mon, let’s leave them to talk.”

The three perk up making you confused and a bit worried until the girl smiles at you. Her pink locks bring out the brightness of her smile and ease your discomfort. As soon as you hear the door close the girl takes a seat close to you and puts out her hand.

“Ashido Mina! Apologies for the late introduction but I wish to be your friend! That and I went to the store earlier because I saw the pictures of you trying on the clothing I made and I want to offer you a job as a model!” Mina states.

You need a moment to process this. It is obvious as you just stare at her with an expression of a fish. She laughs lightly at this but waits for a reply with the patience of an angel.

“Well nice to meet you Ashido. You probably know already but my name is (Last Name) (First Name). I didn’t realize that you were the designer of the clothes. That’s pretty cool but… You want me to be model them?” Your voice shows an obvious lack of confidence.

That is no problem to Mina. You are a beauty and she is going to make it her goal to prove it to you. She nods her head eagerly. “Yes! My breath was literally taken away for a moment when I saw the photos. I… Think you should be the face of my brand! My team is already on board so you are practically hired! I wouldn’t be your boss either but a co-worker so we can still have fun! We would just need to create a portfolio of you modeling the clothing and other clothes to send to my boss but besides that, you are in only if you want!”

It… Is a lot of information but your heart starts to pound. It’s the same feeling you got last night when the boys hyped you up. Clarity seems to wipe over you for a moment and it feels like the turn of events were meant to happen just for this moment.

You agree.

Mina jumps up and down before pulling you into a very much needed hug on your part. She is then quick to pull away after realizing what she has down. Her own heart feels like she’s drinking a bunch of energy drinks from how fast it is beating.

“I, oh wow. I don’t want to push my luck but I feel like I have to. I want to get to know you of course as friends would but to celebrate you being hired when you do, I was wondering if you would like to celebrate with a date? Oh my god, sorry that must be weird and too straightforward-“

You shut her up by laughing. It made her wince before she realizes your laughter isn’t one of malice. It is one of joy.

“I don’t think it is weird at all. I do want to take it slow of course but I think I already like you from what I’ve seen. We’ll see where it goes… But… Ashido, thank you for taking an interest in me. It means a lot.”

You two have a moment, sharing a smile with each other before sadly it is ruined by the door awkwardly opening and three out of four boys peek in who have eavesdropped on what was said. Mina’s face turns a deep red before you just burst out laughing again.

You are honestly so glad those three came into your work last night.

#boko no hero academia #my hero academia #bnha #mha #mina ashido #mina x reader #ashido x reader #female reader #fluff #oneshot #fanfiction #request #bnha oneshot #bnha fanfiction #bnha mina

[ghostspideys-moved]

We’ll Have Tomorrow

Chapter Eleven

A/N: This chapter and the next one aren’t all that long, but the next one will be the last chapter before the next part of this series.

Word Count: 1.8k

Pairings: Steve Harrington x OC, Nancy Wheeler x Jonathan  Byers x OC (eventually)

Summary: River and the kids make it to Steve’s basketball game to support him, which may be just what he needs.

School dragged by painfully slow, and River could hardly bear it. She was unbelievably ecstatic when it ended. It was for a number of reasons, really. Sure, she was just bored, but Steve had his last basketball game tonight.

More than anything, she wanted to support him and be a good friend. Not only that, but she’d also rallied the kids together to support him as well. Of course, she should have expected the extra effort they put into the whole thing.

Somehow, she even convinced Hopper to let El join long enough to go to the game as long as she was back before it was late. She technically wasn’t allowed out still, but he made this one exception, and that was it.

As soon as they joined the party at Mike’s house, she found them all scattered on the basement floor working hard on what looked like signs.

They had three that they divided into groups to make. Will looked up from where he was adding a drawing of a basketball. “Hey, guys. Just in time. You can help with that third sign.” He pointed over to where Dustin and Max were working. 

River didn’t see any reason not to help, and she thought it was cute how much work they were putting into this. She sat down and grabbed some markers as she helped make it look nice. Thankfully, she was pretty decent at drawing, though her nice drawings were a sharp contrast to the messy letters the boy wrote.

It was unique, for sure. But maybe that was the best part. It might have been all over the place, but that was what gave it character. Besides, Dustin and Mike seemed excited about how it turned out. Dustin more, but she really couldn’t fault them for that. 

Of course, Will probably did the best job with Lucas’s help. El mostly focused on drawing, but her and Mike had a decent looking sign. It was very colorful, at least.

“Wow, you guys really went above and beyond,” River said. 

“Well, it’s his last game, so we thought he might appreciate it,” Will replied. “I think that’s what you do at sports games.”

She ruffled his hair and stood up. “It’s a nice thought.”

After a bit, Jonathan came by to take some of them to the game. Of course, Nancy and Hawthorne joined, so it looked like they had even more people tagging along. Between Jonathan and Mrs. Wheeler, they were able to get everyone over to the high school without a problem. 

They carried their signs in and sat down as the game was starting. 

Over by the bench, River spotted Steve with the rest of the team. She smiled when she caught his eye and waved excitedly. He laughed a little and waved back. 

It wasn’t long before the game was starting, and she watched excitedly despite having no clue how any of this actually worked. The only sport she really knew anything about was hockey, of course.

Every now and then, Steve would get the ball passed over to him, and she cheered along with the kids, waving their signs enthusiastically.

Admittedly, she mostly cheered when they did, but she was starting to get the hang of this. They got a few weird looks, especially since Max kept yelling, but she really didn’t care. This was just a part of the experience.

At some point, the game was tied, and there was about a minute left. River watched with anticipation as Steve dribbled the ball down the court, and he lined up to take a shot. He missed, and she groaned, but she didn’t give up hope just yet. 

With about twenty seconds left, everyone watched with bated breath as Steve took another shot. It was almost like time slowed down for a moment, and then there was a chorus of cheering as the ball went in. The clock quickly winded down until the buzzer sounded. River stood and cheered, the others quickly following her lead. 

Steve grinned as his teammates lifted him up, cheering and carrying him off for the time being. As soon as it was over, she ran down the bleachers, gathering all the kids.

They met Steve as he was coming out the locker room now that he was out of his uniform again. Dustin was the first to rush over and offer him a high five.

“You were so cool!” he exclaimed. “That was awesome.”

Steve chuckled and ruffled his hair. “Thanks, Henderson.” He looked up at the rest of them, astounded by just how many people showed up for him.

“You guys all really came to see me play?”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Jonathan assured him. 

They walked out to the parking lot together. Most of the way out, the kids went on about how they knew he could do it, and that he’d looked so cool playing.

It was enough to make River laugh, but it was adorable how much they all looked up to him. Once they were outside, they all divided into groups to head back home.

“You coming?” Jonathan asked, and she shook her head. 

“No. You guys go on. I’m gonna hang back with Steve for now,” she said. 

He nodded and waved. “I’ll get El home on time,” he promised before heading back to his car.

River headed over to Steve as he was getting ready. “Hey. Uh, look, I really appreciate you and the kids showing up.”

“Don’t worry about it. They all insisted on going, and I couldn’t really stop them.”

He laughed and crossed his arms. “Sounds like them.” He paused as he thought of something. “Do you wanna come back to my place? I mean, we can celebrate or whatever.”

She smiled and nodded. “Yeah, I’m cool with that.”

He grinned and got in his car, waiting for her to join and buckle in before he headed back to his house. The drive was mostly silent, save for the music, but it was nice.

It wasn’t too long before they made it there, and she followed him inside. Steve went to the kitchen and looked around until he found what he was looking for. In his hand was a bottle of wine. He grabbed cups and dragged her upstairs to his room.

She laughed and eagerly followed him up, immediately plopping onto his bed. 

“Wine, huh? Fancy,” she teased.

He grinned and poured a little into both glasses before handing her one. “I did say we’d celebrate right?” He took a sip. “It doesn't taste too bad, and I really do appreciate you coming.”

“You know it wasn’t just me,” she said.

“Yeah, but you’re the one I was really hoping to see.” She was a little surprised to hear that, and he stuttered for a moment. “I mean, I know I asked, but I wasn’t sure if you actually would.” River frowned and took a sip from her glass. “Hey, I’m your friend now,” she assured him. “Of course I was going to be there to support you.” Steve sat back against the headboard and nodded. “I guess I’m just glad I have you around now.” 

River smiled, scooting close and taking his free hand, setting her glass aside. “I’m really happy you won. You really deserve to have something good.”

There was a slight blush on his face, and she was sure it wasn’t the wine. They’d had hardly any yet, though he seemed to be deliberating something. 

It was then that River realized how close they were. She could practically smell the wine on his breath — or as little of it as there was. For some reason she didn’t totally understand, there were butterflies in her stomach. It would be so easy to just lean over and press her lips to his.

But she didn’t.

She cleared her throat and looked away, quickly changing the subject. “The signs were the kids’ ideas, by the way,” she said.

Steve nodded, though he didn’t seem mentally present for just a moment. “Yeah. I liked them. You guys did really good with them.”

River let out a slight breath of relief, offering a smile. Whatever she was feeling, she shoved it aside to deal with some other time. It could wait.

~

The next few days had carried on fairly routine. Steve still picked her up and took her to school, he sat with her in science, ate lunch with her, and still drove her home. 

Realistically, River had a feeling she knew what she was feeling, but she didn’t want to address it. Steve was her friend, and she didn’t want to complicate things. She was fine with the way things were, so why try changing any of that?

She tried not to worry about it. Her English class seemed to drag on forever, though, and it seemed like it didn’t go unnoticed how strange she was acting.

“Hey, you okay?” Next to River, Annie Hardwick was leaning over and giving her a concerned look. “No offense, but you look terrible.”

River shook her head and slumped forwards in her desk. “I’m fine. Just really trying to keep everything together before the end of the school year.”

“Oh, right. You’re graduating, huh?”

She nodded. Annie gave her a sympathetic look. “At least you’ll be done with this hellhole.”

River laughed and nodded. “Sorry you’re stuck here for another year.”

“It could be worse. At least I have next year’s productions to keep me sane in the meantime.” 

She wished she could say the same, but she wasn’t sure what she was even doing after graduation. It was a lot to handle right away.

River was relieved when the final bell rang. She got up, saying goodbye to Annie, and headed out to find Steve.

She met him in the parking lot where he was waiting next to his car. They both quickly got in, silently driving towards her house.

The tension was killing her, and she wondered if he’d caught on to her feelings. Was she that obvious? The idea made her anxious. The last thing she wanted was to lose her best friend. Assuming he even considered her that. 

“Thanks for coming.” Steve seemed just as bothered by the silence. “To my game, that is. It really meant a lot.”

River let her shoulders relax, glad things weren’t so awkward after all. “Yeah, don’t worry. I wouldn’t have missed it for the world.” She really was happy she went. Especially knowing no one else would have, minus the kids perhaps. They’d all seemed to take a liking to him after everything, and she couldn’t blame them at all.

The smile on Steve’s face was genuine and almost made her melt, but she controlled herself. “I’m really glad you were there.”

For just a moment, she felt a twinge of hope, but she didn’t want to give into it. That might just be the last thing she needed right now. False hope. Instead, she smiled and nodded, hoping he didn’t notice her acting weird at all.

//

Taglist: @bravest-at-heart​ @musicalytrashpanda​ @queenofthehairharrington​

#steve harrington #dustin henderson #mike wheeler #nancy wheeler #jonathan byers #will byers #joyce byers #jim hopper #jane hopper #max mayfield #lucas sinclair #steve harrington x oc #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington headcanon #stranger things #stranger things 2 #stranger things 3

[nctzendreamz]

HOMECOMING — PART ll

Prologue / Part l / Part ll / Part lll

Summary: The year is 3030, and the divide between the rich and poor couldn’t be greater. Wildwood University is the most prestigious school in the entire world, but it isn’t only because of the impeccable flying cars that can be seen best during the fuchsia lit nights, or the dexterous education everyone receives. It has secrets. A lot of secrets—the biggest being that Taeyong is going to kill you.

Genre: Gang!AU, Futuristic!AU, Dystopian!AU

Warnings: Vivid descriptions of violence, foul language, drug use, and murder.

“You’re new.” Is the first thing that comes from your lips. You’re observing him—eyes trailing up and down his lanky build. He can’t tell whether you like what you see. It’s obvious you’re not easy to read. You have some form of a wall, and it’s up. “And you’ve met Mackenzie.” You eek, mouth forming into a straight line. She can’t hear you, as her headphones are placed in her ears and she seems to be meditating.

“She said you were nice.” Taeyong mentions.

“Oh, she wasn’t lying.” You chuckle. It’s a cute sound. “She can just get...how do I say—a little boy crazy? I wouldn’t be surprised if you told me she had flirted with you. How long have you been here by the way? I’ve missed a lot of class.”

“Today is my first day, actually. And yeah...I think she likes me already.”

“Let me guess—subtle touches, awful attempts to make you laugh?”

“Exactly.” He finds himself smiling from your easy-going nature. He’s not having to jump through the hoops he imagined, as you don’t see him being the new kid as a bad thing. You both are smiling at eachother, but the moment is interrupted when a rubber airplane hits you on the side of the head.

“Can you guys leave me alone for one second? God!” You yell, and Taeyong can see that it actually pissed you off.

“Johnny’s orders.” One of them says, laughing at your annoyance.

“Is that your boyfriend?” Taeyong asks innocently. Of course he knows the truth, but he needs to seem clueless. This will help build his case.

“Don’t even make me think about that.” You barf, holding your stomach and mouth at the same time. “My brother. The guy who escorted me to class as if I haven’t been doing this forever.”

“Maybe it’s because you haven’t been to class recently.” Now it’s his turn to eek, and he gets you to laugh. You think he’s funny.

To the naked eye, it would seem like Taeyong was fond of you. I mean, he was enjoying such stimulating conversation, but he hates you even more now. He seemingly doesn’t remember that Indigo is still in his system, even though it had slightly worn his silent demeanor away. The floating of the desk is kind of making him sick, but he can’t speak on it.

“I try to just focus on a certain something.”

Did you just read his mind? He knows such technology doesn’t exist, right?

“Fun fact, I threw up on my first day of school. Everyone thought it was the funniest thing they had ever seen, but poor Mr. Eddie.” You’re relieving the memory; he can tell. The way your hand reaches for your chest, scratching a non existent rash tells him that this isn’t a memory you laugh at.

“Mr. Eddie? Is that our professor?”

“The professor.” You emphasize. “You should probably know this before class—

“Goodmorning class.” The voice comes from seemingly everywhere, but no one else looks creeped out, so Taeyong keeps his cool.

“Morning.” You all say in unison.

Suddenly, another door in the room reveals itself. A squeak of metal is making itself known, and everyone is either cringing, or covering their ears.

“Is he a fucking—

“Half man, half robot. A fucking robot. It’s crazy because we should be used to it right? I mean, it’s 3030 there are robot people everywhere.”

“It’s just the principle.” Taeyong decides, but in reality his chest is getting tight. He hadn’t even known about this. I mean, he had seen the little robots that could clean a little, and even project news on the wall if you paid a little extra, but this man is walking.

“Jeez Ed!” One of the players yells. “Late to the lecture, and loud. I think this means no homework.”

Is this how annoying the wealthy were allowed to be? Sweaty, presumably blonde jocks who just can’t be settled?

“You all are going to be very upset with me.” His voice is robotic for sure. Everyone begins to pop around, concerned for their professors well being. “But I’m going to have to cancel class. As you can hear, I need more oil.”

It’s like an explosion has taken off, because everyone minus you, Taeyong, and Mackenzie stand up immediately, fighting to get out of class first. It’s chaotic, and it’s making him anxious all over again. It’s not dramatic—it’s slight, but it feels like it can grow to make him actually explode.

“You three need a place to stay?” Mr. Eddie drys, clearly shocked at your presence.

“This is Taeyong.” You introduce. “And while we both know I would’ve been the first one out of here, someone has to show him around.”

“Oh, don’t worry about it Y/N.” Mackenzie speaks suddenly, taking her headphones out. “I’m sure you want to go see Kun anyway. He’s back, right?”

Kun? Who the hell was Kun?

“Kun?” Taeyong questions with a head tilt. “Is that your boyfriend?”

Your hand finds home on your earlobe, and it’s rubbing it softly. There is a smile on your face, but it’s extremely quiet and sad. Whoever Kun is to you, you love him—or at the least care about him. But at the same time, things aren’t peachy.

“No.” Is all you say, slapping your hand to your leg. “Enough about me though!” Your bright nature has returned, and it’s almost weird. He must be your ex, and where was he? Why did he leave and come back? “I have to show you around! I also need to meet your roommate and tell them if they try to hurt you it’ll be their head.”

That’s ironic, he thinks to himself. So badly does he want to laugh something evil because you’re so stupid and clueless, but he contains himself.

“What about me?” Mackenzie is pouting now, arms covering her chest. Does she really thinks that’ll work? I mean, it was quite pathetic.

“You know I love you, right?” Your tone is soft as you speak to her, hands on her shoulder. Your eyes must be as beautiful as he predicted, because her aggressive stance is loosening by the second.

“Of course I do.” She spills.

“Then I know you remember that you have a terrifying essay to write for literature, and that you don’t need to be out all day. Plus, weren’t you trying to go to the race tomorrow?”

“It was in my plans.”

“Then finish your essay tonight. Then, all the boys can see you looking good with the LED lights shining all over you...doesn’t that sound perfect?” You’re painting the picture with your hands, the both of you looking into space.

“You’re right!” She squeals, jumping up at the thought.” “You’ll be there too, right Lee?”

He looks at you for a quick moment, realizing he never told you his “name”. You seem to process it for a moment before looking at him for a response.

“I mean...I can’t make any promises. I’m not the going out type.”

“But I’ll be there. And when I’m somewhere, it matters.”

His ears were bleeding. He just knew it. “Right.” He whispers, trying his best to not sound awkward.

He should have said no when you offered to show him around. His current feelings were nothing short of introverted, and the farther the two of you walked, the more hot he became.

“I’m sure you’re used to seeing stuff like this.”

Oddly, you don’t seem tired. You had practically shown him the entire East section of the campus, and even he—the cold blooded murderer needed some water.

“Oh yeah.” He says dryly. “You know how it is in Valhalla. There are things everywhere. Blazing lights, fresh air...”

“Exactly.” You smile.

He had to admit, your smile made him feel safe. He still needed to go through with his mission, but it’s nice to know you won’t be annoying him the whole time he’s getting you to trust him. You’re easy going, and he’s already in the friendzone. He just needs to get farther.

There’s a kid coming by fast on his hoverboard, but you’re too busy looking at your watch to even hear the skrting of the device. With a swiftness, Taeyong takes your elbow and back into his hands, and he moves you to the other side.

“Shit.” You breathe out, hand on your chest now. You’re ashamed. “I’m so sorry. I promise I’m not usually this clumsy—well that’s not true, but none the less I—

“It’s okay.” He chuckles, letting his hand slide from your shoulder all the way down to your hand. He squeezes it lightly, and the look in his eyes are swallowing you. “It happens to the best of us.”

And now the two of you are having a stare down. He can see how genuine you are. The way your eyes soften the more time that passes proves this, and Taeyong is mocking your actions. In the pit of his stomach he can feel something, and he reads it to be disgust. God, you seemed like a nice person, but wasn’t this a waste of time? To do all of this and make you think he actually cares?

“Right.” You finally speak, looking at the first tree that appeared in your vision. “Anyways, we should probably go to your room now. Have you been in it at all?”

This must be how you deal with problems—moving on without a second thought. You didn’t like to think about your feelings, but at the same time didn’t that mean you were in touch with your emotions?

“It was my first stop.” He admits. He had heard about the people whos only job was to move people in and out, all for free, but with the belongings he had in his bag, that obviously wasn’t an option for him.

It took his breath away, although everything at Wildwood did. Back in the day, college dorm rooms were tight-knit, with squeezed beds and insects crawling somewhere unless you went to a top school. His room consisted of two king sized beds, and they gave him the option to make it a water bed.

He had already spent his morning hiding everything, so you wanting to come inside was no big deal. As you two journey up the hologram escalator, he noticed you were looking into space even though you should be looking at all the scenery.

“Something on your mind?”

His voice is soft when he speaks to you, and he decides in this moment that he’ll keep it that way. It seems to make you more comfortable, and comfortable means you’ll start talking; trusting.

“Too many things.” You chuckle. Now your eyes are closed, and you seem to be soaking in the good weather as if it’s the only thing good from your day. “No need to burden you with it.”

“It’s not a burden. There’s nothing worse than having no one to go to.”

“Then tell me a little bit about you, newbie.” The two of you reach the top—another door that leads to his complex. Unfortunately, they do separate these things by gender even in 3030.

Taeyong is looking for a key to his room; stopping himself as he realizes he’s not in NEO anymore. All he needs is his thumb. “Nothing much to know.” He keeps it short. “I’m just a regular, rich guy.” His tone is sarcastic, but instead of being skeptical, you laugh.

“Are you always this funny?”

That was the first time other than Mackenzie that someone had appreciated his sarcastic humor. As deppresing as it sounded and was, there weren’t a lot of jokes to be made in NEO. I mean, he usually was completely intoxicated, not wanting to laugh unless he was taking someone’s life. He’s surprised such a sentence could form from him, especially in a place he was dreading so much.

“Nope, just around nice people like you.”

He hates every second of this. He was never one to be in the mood for love, only death, blood, and darkness. He had his fair share of steamy nights in the alley ways with the street whores, but he never cared about them. He never would care about anyone but his brothers, truthfully.

He can’t tell if you’re a mess because he’s not facing you. He’s focused on his print before the door clicks, and the two of you step in.

Whoever his roommate is, he’s here. The room that Taeyong walked into this morning was empty, but this room was now full of boxes and an outfit on the bed. You’re looking around just as he is, except he’s searching to make sure his belongings are still in place. They seem to be. The pathetic rich boys who went here weren’t capable of putting something back so perfectly, so he lets his guard down.

“Well, this is it.” He motions all around the room, appreciating his own effort to keep his side spotless.

“I always wondered what it would be like to live in a dorm.” You sigh.

“You don’t live in one?”

“My dad is kind of....the president of the university. And per his rules, his kids have to stay with him.”

So you still live with your parents? Not odd, but at the same time why would he be trying to keep you around. The buisness, he remembers. It was never specified what it was. Drugs had crossed Taeyong’s mind, but at the same time, so did paper, and loans. But now that he considered it, your father must have business with bad people, meaning others could be out to get you. I mean, he was. No no, Taeyong. That’s too much of a stretch, and even so, she does live at home, which means the mission isn’t compromised.

“At least he cares about you.”

“I guess.” You take a deep breath, and he can’t miss the way you hault.

“What’s wrong?”

“That scent...I know it.” Now you’re looking all around the room at his mates side, touching his things frantically.

“Y/N, who is it? Did they do something to you?”

The door opens—so cliché. On the other side is a built man sporting a tank top and sweatpants. His hair seems to be black—but it could also be blue. His face is serious as he walks in, but the minute he locks eyes with you, they soften. It was the same thing you had done to him not too long ago. His lips are trying to find the proper words say to you, but instead he just stands there. You’re frozen in place—hands locked on one of his clothing items.

Kun. This had to be Kun.

#nct #nct 127 #nct taeyong #taeyong #taeyong nct #nct series #nct imagine #nct imagines #nct scenario #nct scenarios #nct angst #nct gang au #gang au #kpop #kpop series #homecoming #kpop imagine #kpop imagines #taeyong angst #taeyong series

[fics-of-my-mind]

Trust - Chapter III.

Where are you now?

home

LA

Isn't it like 4 AM there?

yeah...

Are you OK?

just stressed a bit I guess

You said you needed to vent?

I did

can I call you?

Warnings: mature content, BDSM content Pairing: Nick Jonas / Other Female Character This fanfiction can also be found on Wattpad by fnntth

I don’t own Nick Jonas or any other recognizable characters. This fanfiction is completely fictional, its only purpose is entertainment.

Chapter III. - It’s four AM and I think I might lose it

Nick’s texts are bold

Milla’s texts are italic

The whole 'let's be venting buddies' idea seemed nice, up until the point when ten minutes later I realized, he didn't give me his number. I felt disappointed and a little bit mad at myself. Now I had no real proof that my mind wasn't playing wicked games with me and I, in fact spent the night running around in Barcelona with Nick Jonas himself.

I didn't tell the girls where I've been when Vanda opened the door with her tired eyes at 6:23 in the morning, not wanting to seem crazy. They've both known about my fangirling habits, but there was no point of telling them something that even I wasn't sure really happened. I just fell into my bed and slept until noon.

After returning home, I couldn't find my place. I went back to work, met up with friends, went shopping and even went for lunch with my family, but something was missing. It felt stupid – missing something that I've only had for like seven hours tops.

I tried doing something useful, that could actually have a good effect on my non-existent love life, so I downloaded Tinder. Then, after a day I deleted it. Honestly, I was more than fed up with our generation's dating culture. I couldn't embarrass myself to meet up with complete strangers and have sex – I kind of envied the people who could do it. I guess, it wasn't coded into me.

I was almost 25 years old, and I've never had a proper boyfriend. I blamed the series I watched growing up for my high expectations in men. But really, was it too much to ask to be taken out for a drink or dinner before having a one night stand? I would've had no problem with that, or at least I don't think so. But when a guy messages you on Tinder and his second sentence to you is 'wanna have sex', it kind of just kills the mood for me.

I've watched some of the videos I made during the concert, and every time I could feel my stomach clench. Even if we take my night with Nick out of the equation, it was still one of the best nights of my live, and definitely one of my best concerts. It was my teenage dream come true to watch them perform.

It took me two weeks to get back to normal. By then, my mind was mostly focused on my friends, my job, my colleagues, whom I adored and not on the lack of reaching out from Nick. I kind of let it go – I only thought about him on sleepless nights. I had much more on my mind, with the coronavirus setting its foot in Hungary, and Amalia being in quarantine for it.

In early March, they closed our office and we were forced to work from home, which I handled pretty badly. I loved being home and I loved being alone, appreciating the time with myself. But normally, I had people around me during the day, I was going somewhere, not just sitting from the couch to the dining table, then back to the couch.

At least I had my dog, Milo with me to help me get through the quarantine period. My daily routine consisted of walking him three times and going to the grocery store every few days. That's all, otherwise I was completely alone. I hated it, and I was feeling so bad, that I've had at least one mental breakdown a day.

That's when it happened. In the middle of a Wednesday, just as I was scrolling through my emails on the company laptop, my phone went off.

so, I kind of need to vent...

It was all the message said, yet I knew who it was from. My stomach clenched instantly, and I could feel my heart beating against my chest really hard. Here it was, my proof that I wasn't just hallucinating that night. I took my phone into my hands and typed my reply.

Well, hello to you too, Mr

hi. :)

Hi :) :)

sorry I've been MIA

just needed to get back to the states

do a few interviews

I smiled softly. I had no idea why he felt the need to apologize. He was busy, he was important, he was famous. I knew well that he had responsibilities. He was also married, so he also had a wife to take care of.

It's OK.

Where are you now?

home

LA

Isn't it like 4 AM there?

yeah...

Are you OK?

just stressed a bit I guess

You said you needed to vent?

I did

can I call you?

I quickly checked my Outlook calendar. Nothing else was in it for the rest of the day, so as long as my coworkers didn't want to chit chat on a Teams call, I was okay to talk to Nick. More than okay, in fact, I wanted to hear his voice.

Yes.

It didn't take more than a few seconds for my phone to ring, startling me, even though I've expected the call. My hand was shaking as I reached to my iPhone, and even though it was a reaction of a twelve-year-old fangirl, I couldn't calm myself.

'Hey.'

'Hey you,' I heard his deep voice, and suddenly all my nerves were gone. He once again had the same effect on me, as back in Barcelona, instantly calming me. I couldn't quite place this.

'So, what's up?' I asked, clearing my troath.

'Are you at work?' he asked, probably checking to see if anyone could hear me.

'Yes and no,' I said. 'Since Monday, we are forced to work from home. Sooo... I'm home.'

'Do you live alone?' It was kind of ridiculous. We've barely known each other (except for the fact that I did knew a lot about him), and the fact that he had no idea about my living situation just confirmed this. We still weren't any more than strangers, yet he was calling me from the other side of the world.

'I do. Well, I live with my dog,' I shrugged, even though he couldn't see it. 'Where are you? And what are you doing up at 4 in the morning?'

'I'm home. In the music studio.' So the walls were soundproof. Smart, if you don't want anyone to hear you talking on the phone. For example, your wife. 'Couldn't sleep.'

'Why?' I asked.

'There's just a lot on my mind, I guess,' he answered, his voice sounding really tired. I was concerned for him.

'Things like...?' I tried asking him again. There was a reason he's called me. There were things he needed to talk about and I quite enjoyed hearing him talk. His voice calmed me, and I felt much closer to him than just some fan.

'We probably have to cancel our Vegas residency due to COVID.'

'That's understandable. You shouldn't feel bad about it. You can't really control it.'

'I know,' he said, staying quiet for a few seconds. I waited for him to talk again. 'Just don't like to disappoint anyone, I guess.'

'You aren't doing this, Nick,' I said softly. 'The virus is. Fans will understand. You will make it up to them."

'Yeah, I guess you're right.'

'What else is on your mind?' There was a long pause before he spoke again.

'Have you heard Demi's new song?'

'I have,' I nodded to myself. It was quite fresh, just a few days old. 'You and her used to be friends, right?'

'She was my best friend,' he corrected. I searched my memories, I did know that they went on tour together and did Carpool Karaoke and other things together. I had no idea when that ended and why. I knew about Demi's OD, but nothing else.

The fangirl in me, who wanted to know everything desperately wanted to ask him about what happened. The person in me that was supposed to be his 'vent buddy', knew that this probably wasn't the right time to ask the questions. Luckily, this side was saner.

'But she isn't anymore,' I declared the obvious. 'And you are hurt by her video clip, where she just walks by you, right?' I asked, trying to decipher how he was feeling at the moment.

'It's not like I don't deserve it,' he said quietly. I didn't really know what to say.

'It is okay for something to hurt, even if you deserve it, you know.'

'Thank you,' he said even quieter. 'I think I needed to hear that.'

'Is there anything else that's bothering you?'

I could almost see him bite his bottom lip before answering.

'No, nothing really.' I knew he lied, but didn't press it. 'I just can't really talk with anyone else about Demi. Well, probably except Joe, but he's home with Sophie, so I didn't want to nag him.'

'Okay,' I nodded. This was weird, talking so naturally about things with him. Talking about his life, about people in his life... It was just crazy.

'How are you doing?' he asked, sounding genuinely interested in the answer.

'Fine, I guess.' I was doing just fine – minus the mental breakdowns, and the fear of this whole situation.

'Now tell me the truth,' he commanded, and my breath caught up in my throat. I wasn't surprised that he noticed my lie, I noticed his too. I was shocked that he did in fact call me out on it, in a very commanding tone. Like he expected me to tell him how I was really feeling.

'Why do you think I'm lying?' I asked, raising my eyebrows.

'You are, aren't you?' he asked. 'This venting thing can only work if we both trust each other with our problems. This has to be a two-sided thing.'

I did get where he was coming from. He had a lot to lose with trusting in me, but he did it anyway. Me telling him about my own problems meant that I also trusted him, that I also put my secrets and my fears into his hands. He wanted to be assured that he wasn't making a fatal mistake by opening up to me. Not that I had any intention of selling him out, but I understood that we were practically strangers to each other.

'I'm worried,' I said finally.

'About what?'

'This virus. About my family falling ill. About losing my job.'

'Why would you lose your job?' he asked, and it wasn't just a rhetorical question, he really did want to know about my concerns.

'I was just hired, you know. Just in the beginning of last month. Before that, I was an intern for a year, and I've worked my ass off to get a permanent position. But if thanks to the virus, the financial crisis hits and they start to fire people... I'm just worried that last one in means first one out,' I explained.

'Did your boss give you a reason to worry?' he asked.

'Not really. My boss is amazing. Really, she's more of a friend than a boss.'

'So if you two have a great relationship, and she managed to make you permanent part of her team, don't you think that she'll do everything in order to keep you?'

I stayed quiet for a minute.

'I don't like it when you are being reasonable,' I said jokingly.

'Sorry,' he chuckled. 'But really, why worry before you actually have the problem?'

'I guess, I just worry a lot about non-existent things,' I shrugged. 'It's always better to be prepared for everything.'

'Hmm, is it?' he asked, clearly amused about the things in my head. 'What else is bugging you?'

'I'm lonely,' I said quietly. I hated to admit this, because I was the person that always told everyone that I was doing more than okay on my own, and I didn't need a man to make me feel whole. Now, as I was alone in the apartment all the time, I started to realize that having some company would've been nice.

'What about your friends? Where are they?' he asked.

'Most of them went home to their families when the state of emergency hit.'

'Why don't you go home to your family then?'

'I'm kind of afraid to infect them. I mean, I'm the one living in the big city. If anyone caught the virus without noticing, it would be me. And I wouldn't feel comfortable knowing that I may give it to them,' I explained.

Nick stayed quiet for a while. My inhibitions of talking to him about my life were long gone. It kind of felt nice to say the words out loud, to share with someone that I was in fact, feeling lonely. Even if that someone was on the other side of the world.

'You don't have a significant other?' he asked eventually, as if it wasn't clear already.

'No, I don't have a boyfriend.'

'Why?' Came the next question. I bit my lip and contemplated telling him the great answer on my mind, that I was thinking for years now.

'I'm just not the type of girl that guys fall in love with.'

'You do know that's bullshit, right?' he replied, sounding irritated.

'No, Nick, really. I never had a real boyfriend, only guys that I've hooked up with, or that led me on to believe that here was something more going on, when there wasn't,' I said, and even though I didn't feel perfectly comfortable talking about my love life, or the lack of it, somehow I couldn't stop myself from speaking. 'And I got tired of that a while ago. It's still better to be alone than not being appreciated and having to make compromises.'

'What do you want from a guy? When is he worth the compromises?' he asked, and I could hear the curiosity in his voice.

'Quite honestly, if he makes an effort, he's probably worth it.'

'An effort like a big romantic gesture?'

'No,' I chuckled. 'I don't really like cheesy things. If he brings me flowers or takes me out for dinner, it's more than enough. But it's not like any of those things happened.'

'C'mon, you must've gotten flowers from guys. They must've taken you out to eat.'

'I did get flowers from guys. Just not flowers that were of any romantic origin. I got flowers for my birthday or international women's day, but that's about it. And as for dates... Nobody really ever took me out for dinner or lunch or whatever.'

'How?' he asked, sounding doubtful.

'Well, I must repulse all the men,' I laughed bitterly. Sometimes I did believe in that.

'Don't be stupid,' he said quietly.

'I'm not. I mean... Here I am, almost at 25, never been in love, never even been on a proper date. And honestly, I have no idea why it never happened, but nobody has ever asked me out,' I shrugged to myself. 'There must be something seriously wrong with me.'

Even though I tried to play it cool, these concerns were real for me. I thought about it a lot, how it has never happened. Maybe I expected too much. Maybe I wasn't pretty enough. Maybe it was written on my forehead that nobody should ever date me.

'There is nothing wrong with you, trust me,' Nick said, and there was something in his voice.

'I don't want you to feel sorry for me.'

'I don't, Milla, I just can't quite comprehend how you've never had a boyfriend,' he explained. 'You're beautiful, smart, hard-working. You care about people. You're witty and funny, and I've only talked to you twice in my life and I already know this.'

'C'mon, Nick,' I could feel myself blush. 'You're just saying those things to make me feel better.'

'I'm really not. I just don't like that you think so low about yourself, like you think something is wrong with you.'

'But what if there is?' I asked, opening up about one of my biggest concerns. 'What if I expect more than I deserve?'

'Trust me, wanting to get flowers and being taken out on a date, aren't that huge, earth-shattering things.'

'Well, I'm still alone, aren't I? Maybe I scare people.'

'Or maybe,' he started about a deep sigh. 'People around you don't deserve you and they know it.'

I stayed quiet for a bit, biting my lip again. After some time I sighed, not finding the energy to fight with him about this anymore.

'Damn you for always knowing what to say.'

#nick jonas #nick jonas imagine #nick jonas fanfiction #nick jonas fic #nick x reader #jonas brothers #jonas brothers fanfiction #jonas brothers imagine #nick jonas x reader #fanfiction

[iwillgiveyoumyhappiness]

임창균, Im Changkyun

lostmyshame  asked:

Your Changkyun scenarios are so freaking cute! This boy is wrecking my life currently. May I request another one about him where he and the reader have been friends for few years and both were attracted to each other but too scared to ruin their friendship? And then on one rainy day their emotions take over? The literal physical need for each other, the desire to possess and belong, the fear of losing the most precious, all no longer concealable. Thank you ٩(๑❛ᴗ❛๑)۶

Group: Monsta X (몬스타엑스)

Member: I.M.

(A/N): Read with this album by Paper Planet

.

.

.

“Stop it,” she whispered into the dimly lit room, breaking a heavy silence that had taken over the usually very comfortable space of her living room. Her autumn-breeze breath fanned across hot cheeks, luckily hidden by the shadows cast by the rain drops dribbling down the windowpane. 

The skin that was so frightfully close to her own belonged to her friend—Im Changkyun. He hovered over her, a blurred silhouette before her eyes. He had two choices, as far as she saw it. 

Stay where he was and move no further, or back away before he did something he’d regret. 

They were friends, and that’s where their string of fate ended. 

At least, that’s what they would like it say. They would love it, of course, but simplicity is a luxury. One that their friendship was not blessed with. Their strings of fate were complicated and twisted, a baffling cipher of questions.

There were lines in a healthy friendship; ones that weren’t generally crossed. They thought they’d done a good enough job of that. Those lines were tempting and beguiling. They’d come to the very brink of them, but they’d never crossed them before.

There was the time their fingers brushed while walking, but instead of pulling away, they let it just keep happening. There were gazes that lingered for longer than they should have, hugs that lasted a second too long and moments where they would deny vehemently that they had any interest towards each other yet they would still be jealous if someone else got too close.

Despite how close they’d gotten before, they’d never stepped over that invisible barrier. But here he was... Two and a half steps closer to the personal bubble than was considered ‘friendly’.

He scanned her face, his eyes boring into her own. “What if I don’t want to stop?” he asked, voice equally as quiet. The whole scenario felt somewhat intimate. “What if I want to go farther? Reckless abandon, and all that crap.” 

She couldn’t find it within herself to answer—not yet, at least. Her mouth was dry and the room was spinning and it was hard for her to remember how they had gotten into this position in the first place.

She remembered the day they first met like it was yesterday, yet she couldn’t remember the events of a few hours ago, leading up to this moment. Maybe because it was so sudden, the way he’d pinned her to the couch.

Though, the way they’d first met was pretty sudden, too—quite literally bumping into each other at the super market. She supposed it suited their relationship well. Random, unpredictable, always running forward at a dizzying pace. 

It was never boring, she could say that much. 

Though, the days where thing were ‘boring’ between them happened to be her favorite days. Him working in the studio late at night, her crashing on the couch for no other reason than to keep him company and give her opinion on newer tracks, empty energy-drink cans and bowls of ramen scattered around haphazardly. 

Those were the best.

A day—somewhat like that scene—was the reason for the current situation.

.

.

.

Maybe it was the way that she had sounded just a little bit off in her texts, or maybe it was the lack of emotion when he called her to ask about her day, but for whatever reason, Changkyun was on his way to her flat, rain splattering furiously onto his clear umbrella. 

He had a plastic bag filled to the brim with her favorite snacks, a couple movies she’d been dying to see and a new mug to replace the one he’d broken two weeks ago.

It was the least he could do.

He folded the umbrella, leaning it against the wall next to her door. With a rhythmic rap of his knuckles, one tailor-made just for the two of them, she came to the door, not even bothering to ask who it was. 

She already knew.

She looked exhausted—bags under her eyes and clothes disheveled more than usual. She gave a small, tired smile. “Hey, Kyun,” she said. “How are you?”  

His first instinct was the drop the bag and rush to her; give her the biggest, tightest hug. But that would be weird, wouldn’t it? There were boundaries to be respected, even in a close friendship.

“Better than you, it seems,” he said with a huff, blowing his too-long bangs away from his face. He scanned her face, concern knitting his eyebrows together. “Are you okay?” he asked. 

She shrugged, still smiling. “Not really,” she said, knowing fully well that she wouldn’t be able to hide it from him. “But it’s fine,” she continued. “I’m alive, and that’s what counts.”

“Did something happen?” he asked. She stepped aside, gesturing for him to come into the medium-sized apartment. “You look like crap.” 

She snorted. “Thanks, dude,” she said. She closed the door behind them. “Nah, nothing in particular,” she answered. “Today’s just a melancholy day. It happens sometimes.” 

Changkyun nodded understandingly, dumping the contents of his plastic bag onto the couch—save for the mug, which he pulled out before hand. He didn’t need to have her nagging him about another one.

“I get it,” he said calmly. He held out the mug, shaped like a cute sloth that said ‘Soon-ish’ on it, as she was a master-procrastinator. He’d always teased her for that. Whether it be a work assignment or something for college, she always waited until the last second to get it done. “Hopefully all of this stuff’ll help.” 

Her eyes lit up a little, a familiar light glittering in them. “You got a new one!” she gasped, snatching it from his hands. “And it’s even cuter than my old one!”

He shrugged and sniffed proudly. “What can I say? I have good taste.”

She rolled her eyes. “Screw you,” she said. 

“Hey! I brought snacks and movies!” he defended himself, crossing his arms. “By the laws of friendship, you can’t say ‘screw you’ to me if I do something nice for you!”

She scoffed. “And what rule is that, your majesty?” she asked incredulously.

“The one I made up just now, stupid,” he chuckled, flicking her forehead lightly.  

She smacked his hand away, laughing a little. “Quit it!” she said. She hugged the sloth mug protectively to her chest. “You’re not breaking another one.” 

Changkyun rolled his eyes. “You know that was an accident!” he groaned. He wasn’t really irritated. In fact, he felt a warm fuzziness creeping into his chest seeing her chuckle at his saltiness. He felt that way towards her whenever he saw her in this light—the one where he was the one making her smile and laugh. 

It felt good and right. Just... 

Lovely. 

That was a word that often sprung to his mind when he thought of her. But the word that would come straight after was always ‘friend’, so that would always snap him out of his thoughts and remind him to watch himself. 

Remind himself not to lose control. 

He shook his head a little, trying to clear his thoughts. “Do you wanna watch a movie and drink hot chocolate with me, or not?” he asked. 

She tilted her head like she was taking it into serious consideration. “Did you bring—?” she started.

“Cinnamon to go on top?” Changkyun interrupted. “Yes. Yes, I did, you weirdo.” 

She stomped her foot playfully. “It’s not weird, it’s tasty!” she defended herself. “You’d understand if you bothered to try it.” 

He snatched the mug from her, taking it into the kitchen. Sure, the feeling of their fingers briefly touching made his heart jump, but he could ignore it. “Yeah, yeah, yeah,” he said. “Just go set up the movie; I’ll make the cocoa.” 

That was how it should be. 

Because they were friends. 

.

.

.

She hoped that there wasn’t too much relief in her eyes when he showed up at her door. That’d be too obvious.

Honestly though, he was just what she needed on a sad-for-no-reason day, because he was her makes-me-happy-for-no-reason person. 

Everything from his dumb tracksuit with the bracelet on top of the sleeves, the messy hair that was flopping into his eyes and the resting bitch-face. 

Already, her heart felt a little, but she was just praying that he didn’t read into that too deeply. 

It didn’t help that he brought snacks and gifts. How dare he be this way? Knowing her so well, and whatnot. It was infuriating how easy he made it to love him. 

Her eyes kept wandering to his mess of hair, feeling the overwhelming need to run her fingers through it, but alas, she didn’t, 'cause that’d be weird.

When she greeted him with a quick hug, she couldn’t stop herself from caressing the hairs at the back of his neck, hoping that it wasn’t too noticeable. 

She barely took in everything he was saying, and she was beyond grateful when he changed the subject, making it easier for her to calm down and get sucked into the film. If she payed attention hard enough, maybe Chagkyun’s presence wouldn’t affect her so badly. 

Maybe she could feel the comfort, minus the stifling nervousness.  

.

.

.

‘Stop staring at her,’ Changkyun kept telling himself. 

They were watching a horror movie together—one she’d been begging to see since it came out—and her eyes were fixed intently on the screen. The jumps scares didn’t freak her out, she just nodded along like, “Oh, I see. So that’s how it fits into the plot”, all the while, shoveling popcorn into her mouth.

All-in-all, not the most attractive scene, but still. His heart said, ‘Well gosh, that’s endearing’, and it was kind of pissing him off.

She gasped for the first time since the movie started, but it wasn’t because she was scared. It was because an ‘illuminating’ plot-point had just been revealed that the main character’s sister was actually his wife that’d been dead for twenty years, and she’d just been turned into a vampire and aging backwards, and—...it was a really dumb movie.

But the point was, she was enjoying it on a bad day, so that was all that mattered. He’d come to terms in his mind that he probably had a crush on her, but his pride (and fear) stopped him from making a definitive move.

He remembered watching a movie some time ago, before he’d met her. One of the quotes from it was: “A man can’t be just friends with a beautiful woman”. He remembered scoffing at that line, just because he thought it was ridiculous.

At first, he wondered why it was limited to ‘a beautiful woman’, but after meeting her and gradually liking her more and more, it dawned on him. 

‘A beautiful woman’ doesn’t apply to what society thinks at all. It applies to you and your own thoughts, because the person you love automatically looks beautiful. 

He’d found that out the hard way when they’d gotten off a rollercoaster together and she looked slightly dazed, majorly blissed-out, and her hair was tousled and tangled.

He’d spent about 30 minutes finger-brushing the tangles out, and to anyone that asked, he’d tell them that it was the most irritating, meticulous thing he’s ever had to do, but what was on the inside?

That truth was a different story. 

On the inside, that was the exact pin-pointed moment that he fell for her. Most people couldn’t tell you when they fell in love, but he definitely could. At least, when he realized it. 

It was that third Sunday in June when they were standing under that tree in the amusement park to avoid the sun while he untangled her hair with his skilled fingers. Despite the effort to avoid the rays, some still managed to stream in through the leaves, and it highlighted her in the most beautiful way. 

Her eyes looked more glittery than usual, her tangled hair had a shine to it and he could individually count each of her eyelashes. 

When he realized he couldn’t breathe in that moment, he admitted to himself that he probably had a crush on her, despite how much he’d like to prove that dumb movie wrong. 

“Kyun,” he heard, drawing him out of his thoughts. “Kyun!” She smacked his shoulder. “Did you see that ending?” she asked, eyes wide with surprise. “That was such a twist! I didn’t expect it at all!” 

He chuckled and shook his head, rubbing his shoulder. She had a bit of trouble controlling the strength of her hits. “What’s with you and loving low-quality films?” he asked. 

She shrugged. “I don’t know,” she said honestly. “Maybe my palate isn’t refined enough, or maybe I don’t need things to be perfect to enjoy them.” She smiled. “There can be a lot of plot flaws, and the acting may not be the best, but the point is, it was made for entertainment. And it entertains me,” she finished, plopping a piece of popcorn into her mouth. 

He felt his heart pounding again, just because she was talking about something she liked. How annoying and stupid.

“Can you stop that?” he asked quietly.

She furrowed her brows. “Stop what?”

“Stop looking so kissable,” he said. 

Her eyes widened, and he could’ve sworn he saw her cheeks light up, too. “What’re you talking about?” she stuttered out. 

He moved a little closer, she moved a little farther. Finally, he grabbed her wrists, keeping her in place. “Do you like me?” he asked seriously, gathering all the courage that he was pretty sure he didn’t actually have.

He probably bluffed himself into bravery. 

She choked. “What—?”

He wasn’t quite sure how they ended up with him on top of her, pinning her down to the couch and pressing kisses to the corner of her lips while the rain pattered against the window, but he couldn’t really complain. 

If anything, the bundle of nervous energy in his stomach pushed him forward. He tried to read her expression. It looked like there were a million thought going on, running a mile a minute.

He leaned down farther, just to get a better look into her eyes.

“Stop it,” she whispered into the dimly lit room, breaking a heavy silence that had taken over the usually very comfortable space of her living room.

.

.

.

Ah. 

So, that’s how they got there.

.

.

.

“I’ll ask you again,” Changkyun said, interrupting her thoughts. His eyes looked almost desperate, in a way. Desperate for an answer, or something of the sort. “What happens if I don’t wanna stop here?”

She swallowed the lump in her throat, taking a deep breath through her nose. “Then I would say you should be more considerate,” she said firmly. “Think about how I feel in this situation.” 

“Turned on?” he offered. 

She smacked his side, making him flinch. “Don’t treat this like a joke!” she chided. “Can you be serious for one second?” 

“I am being serious!” he assured her, his grip tightening around her wrists. “Am I not sounding sincere enough for you? Do I have to be more forward—more clear? Well, guess what!” he said. He stared her dead in the eyes. “I know,” he spoke cryptically.  

She glared at him. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“I know you like me like I like you,” he said simply. He wasn’t cocky about it. More matter-of-fact than anything else. 

She rolled her eyes, scoffing a little. “Don’t be an idiot—” she started. 

“Why haven’t you pulled away yet?” Changkyun cut in. She froze, no words leaving her half-open mouth. “I know better than anyone else; you hate being physically suffocated, so clearly... You don’t feel suffocated by me.” 

She swallowed thickly. “What’re you getting at?” she asked, trying to steadily meet his burning and heavy gaze. 

He tilted his head a little, almost like a shrug. “Maybe I help you breathe easier,” he said. “Maybe you trust me to be this close to you. Closer than anyone else ever has.” 

She frowned, looking off to the side. “You’re my friend,” she said. “One of my best friends—if not the best. I should hope I feel comfortable around you.” 

He huffed out a breath, the mint flavor on his tongue fanning out over her face. “Do you have something going on mentally, or do I just have to say it first for you to accept it?” he asked. 

She furrowed her brows. “What’re you talking about—?”

“I love you,” he interrupted, his eyes swimming with emotion and desperate. “I love you so much.” 

Her breath caught in her throat. Changkyun wasn’t one for cheesiness like this. In fact, he tended to avoid it at all costs. 

It felt strange. 

Different.

Not unwanted. 

“You are...” It looked like he was struggling to find the right words, which was odd for such a talented lyricist. He sighed. “My best friend, for one,” he said. With a small internal struggle, he met her eyes. “But you’re also a hell of a lot more than that. You’re one of the most unique things I’ve ever felt in my life. You’re like a goddamn emotional rollercoaster.”

He chuckled. “I don’t know when I started feeling this way for you. It was just all of a sudden,” he explained in a quiet voice. “Maybe it was ‘cause we kept touching hands on the subway—just on accident. Maybe it was ‘cause you started giving me goosebumps when you laughed because of something I said. Maybe it was ‘cause I gave you that piggyback-ride when you sprained your ankle and you whispered ‘thanks’ in my ear.”

His brows furrowed quizzically. “Or maybe it was ‘cause you’re the only person I’ve ever known that’s gotten me to fully enjoy a Disney movie. At any rate, it’s an impressive feat.” 

His grip on her wrists loosened up. “You piss me off more than anyone I know and I wanna strangle you 75% of the time, but at the same time, I know that I could never stay angry at you for too long.” Gently, he slipped a hand behind her back, pulling her up into a sitting position with him. 

It confused her how soft he was suddenly being, moving a socially acceptable distance away from her and letting her have some breathing room. He kept his hands to himself, folding them politely in his lap and sitting with his back straight. It was like he was meeting her parents, which was a strange thought in the first place.

“I feel like you can heal me when I’m the most screwed up I've ever been, and I know for a fact that you’ve got my back through thick and thin. You are my intense wave of happiness everyday, and sometimes, I’m a real jerk to you, just because you make me nervous. Despite how much I freak out ‘cause of you, you also calm me down better than anyone else,” he said with a deep breath. 

He played with his fingers before folding his hands neatly again. “I wanna be there for you, too,” he said, swallowing a visible lump in his throat. Despite how obviously wrecked he was inside, he never broke eye-contact. “But I’m really scared to do that without letting you know how I feel right now, ‘cause I feel like I’ll seriously mess up one day if I keep it to myself. Like I’ll push myself on you when you don’t want me.” 

She pulled her knees to her chest slowly, eyebrows furrowed in hesitant concentration. “And why is that?” she asked, the first words out of her mouth in quite some time. Her voice sounded almost hoarse. 

His tongue darted out to wet his chapped lips. “Because I think you’re beautiful,” he said, making her heart skip a beat or two. “And incredibly sexy,” he added with a shrug. “That’s not very... Best-friendsy, now is it?” 

She let out a small laugh, even though her head was spinning. As expected of Changkyun. Only he could make her laugh in a situation like this. 

So many thoughts ran through her mind. Half of it was wondering why he was suddenly so open and emotional, but the other half was questioning her own emotions. Her pride. 

There was a certain level of not wanting to give in—not wanting to break the promise she’d made to herself when she’d first realized her feelings for him. She had assured herself vehemently, “There are other people out there. It isn’t just Changkyun. You shouldn’t be so captured by him”. 

Yet even after all that convincing, he was still the only one she could see. 

The whole world passed her by in a fit of shifting glory every single day, but it still paled in comparison to him. In a way, the idea of getting lost without a compass to guide her was less scary than getting a step closer to him.

They say: “The higher you are, the farther you have to fall”. The feeling of knowing that Changkyun felt the same about her put her on top of the world, and isn’t that about as high as one could go?

With that thought in mind, it was terrifying to imagine, “What if it doesn’t last?” They say that about first loves—that they never last. They’re enjoyable, nerve-wrecking, a learning experience, and they teach a heart how to feel. 

Really feel, that is.

But what if one day, that feeling faded, and they were left with nothing but a wilting memory of each other? Would she be able to stand that?

She searched his eyes, raking over the dark orbs that she’d become so familiar with. She could read those eyes. She could tell when he was being sincere, and this was definitely one of those times.

So what if it hurt a little bit in the end? 

They would be each other’s hurt. Maybe she could set aside her pride for his love—for his pain. Nothing is set in stone, happiness and sadness alike.

“No, I guess it’s not,” she said, clearing her throat. “I guess we’re not best friends anymore.” 

Fear lit in his gaze, like a question of what he said wrong. 

“We’ll just have to date, then,” she said, scooting forward a little, just enough so that their knees lightly touched. “‘Cause for whatever reason, I’m not willing to let your ass out of my sight.”

.

.

.

Let us pray for non-crappiness. 🙏 

Thank you so much for requesting this, @lostmyshame​! I had an absolute blast writing it, and I hope that you enjoyed reading it. I honestly haven’t been writing very much recently, ‘cause life has been busy, so I’m trying to get back into the groove of things. I hope this wasn’t too disappointing, considering it was kind of my ‘practice round’. 

Stop by anytime—it was a pleasure having ya!

#a gift for you #request #reaction #requested #this is really cute #IM #imagine #i love him a lot #I.M #monsta x i.m #i.m changkyun #i.m monsta x #i.m imagine #im changkyun #Monsta X #monsta x scenarios #monsta x reactions #monsta x changkyun #monsta_x #kpop #kpop icons #kpopidol #kpop angst #kpop imagines #kpop fluff

[thatdarncatchronicles]

That Darn Cat | Issue No. 3 | An Unexpected Party

Warnings | None

Rating | K+

Genres | Friendship, Family, Snark (it’s totally a genre)

Word Count | 1.5K

Summary: In which Selina catches Jim when he comes back from a date and gives him an unfair amount of grief. Cue milk theft, hot tips, and lots of blushing Jim.

"Evening, Detective."

Selina had to work hard to keep her neutral expression from cracking when Gordon jumped, still half-in, half-out of his coat, and whirled towards her. She settled for an unimpressed quirk of her eyebrow.

"Selina." Jim's mouth smiled, but his eyes were flat as untangled himself from his coat and hung it on a hook by the door. "Make yourself at home." His eyes swept over where she sat, cross-legged in the middle of his counter, and landed on the half-empty bottle of milk in her hands.

"Oh, don't worry. I have."

"So I see." He shook his head, dropping his keys on the counter. "Breaking and entering is illegal, Selina."

Selina feigned offense. "Whoa! Listen, I didn't break anything. The window was open."

"The window was not—we're on the fourth floor."

"And…?"

"How do you even know where I live?"

"I followed you." She threw back a gulp of milk.

His eyebrows shot up. "You followed me."

"You got bad ears or somethin'? That's what I said."

"Tonight?"

Selina could have sworn she saw him flush, just a little. Interesting. "Nah, a few nights ago. You work late, man. I always thought detectives were nine-to-fivers"

He flashed a bitter grin. "Yeah. So did I. Why did you follow me?"

"Keep your friends close and your enemies closer, Detective."

He squinted. "What the—what is that supposed to mean?"

She shrugged. "I dunno. Hey." Her head titled as she looked him up and down. "You look different. Spiffy. You have a meeting today, or something?"

Jim shot her a warning look as he loosened his tie.

Oh. Selina's eyes widened as a wicked grin spread across her face. "No. You were on a date."

Jim slung his suit jacket over his shoulder and headed to his room. His ears were definitely redder than they had been a second ago.

"You were, weren't you!"

The door clicked shut. Selina smirked.

He emerged again a few minutes later, minus tie and shoes, and padded to the kitchen without even glancing at her where she was now sprawled on the couch. She wiggled her eyebrows. "So...How'd it go?"

Jim grabbed a glass from the cupboard and placed it on the counter with a clatter before turning to open the fridge. He rooted around for a few seconds before he blinked, straightened, and slowly, deliberately pushed the door shut. His baleful gaze turned to rest on Selina for a long moment as she took another swig of milk.

Selina smothered her gratification and gave her head an innocent shake. "What?"

He sighed and replaced the glass. "Why are you here, Selina?"

"Hey! No changing the subject. I asked you first."

"What?"

She sat up and threw her hands in the air. "How. Was. Your. Date?"

Jim scoffed, shaking his head as he retrieved the glass and filled it with water instead. His ears were positively pink, now. "You're in my house, without permission, sitting on my couch, drinking my milk, and you want to know how my date went?"

"Fair's fair, Detective." She set the milk on the couch's wooden arm and crossed her arms, leaning back into the cushions. "I asked you first."

Jim made a face that Selina decided to refer to the "Really? Very mature" face. She tucked it away for potential future use and enjoyed his exasperated sigh as he ran a hand over his face and leaned back against the counter. His cheeks were pink, now, too. Oh, yes. Selina dug her heels in.

"Listen, man. Homeless kids ain't got TVs. We gotta get our entertainment somewhere." She gave an inward flinch. Bringing up the homelessness was a mistake. Fortunately, Jim seemed sufficiently annoyed by her persistence to ignore that part.

"Fine, fine. It was good."

She waited expectantly.

He didn't continue.

"Seriously? That's it? Details, my dude."

He rolled his eyes and gave a shrug that was probably supposed to look casual. "We had a good time. It was nice."

"Wow. You are really bad at this. I hope you're not this boring on your dates."

"My dates don't show up in my house uninvited and drink my milk."

"So that's what has you all bent outta shape! Look, man, if it's that big of a deal to you, here. Let me—" She grabbed the bottle up and popped the cap back on, holding it out to Jim as she licked away the residual mustache.

She savored the way his nose wrinkled. "No. Please. By all means, just…" He trailed off, waving his hand in dismissal.

"Suit yourself." She popped the cap off again. "So, are you gonna tell me about her? What's she like?"

"No one's taught you it's not polite to pry into other people's affairs, have they?"

"Who cares about polite? What's her name?"

It was Jim's turn to throw up his hands. "You know what? Alright. Fine. Her name is Lee. She's a doctor. She's kind, smart as they come, and has this smile that just...lights up her face."

Selina watched, wide-eyed, as Jim's expression transformed from deadpan to...worshipful. Gross.

"Lights up the whole room, really. She's great. She's nice. We ate pasta and had a nice time, even though I made a mess by leading with work-talk. I think it might actually—" Jim stopped abruptly, frowning as if surprised at his own speech.

"Wow." Selina shook her head. "Wow."

Jim grit his teeth. "What."

"Nothing, nothing. Just...Gotham's golden boy's got it bad."

The water in Jim's glass sloshed as he threw his arms out in exasperation. "This is only the second time we've gone out. I don't even know if it's gonna work, yet."

"Uh-huh. You were practically making heart eyes. I might puke."

"Yeah? The bathroom's that way. And I'm not Gotham's golden boy." He dragged a chair in front of the couch and straddled it, arms resting across the back. "Alright. Like you said—fair is fair. Why are you here?"

Selina pulled a rolled-up newspaper from her jacket and chucked it at him.

He caught it against his chest and unrolled it to read the headline. "Oh."

GOTHAM'S GOLDEN BOY VOWS TO TRACK DOWN ANACONDA KILLER.

"Yeah. Oh." Selina blew a curl out of her eyes. "You know, you really gotta stop doin' that."

Jim looked up from the article. "Doing what?"

"Oh, I don't know—telling serial killers you're after them? Why not just put a sign on your back that says, 'Snake food! Come and get it! Four out of five vets recommend me!'"

"Ah. Well, I appreciate your concern, but you don't need to worry about me. And I don't think you came here just to warn me off."

"Nah. I came here to tell you I know where he's holed up."

The reaction was instant. Jim leaned forward, eyes on her with a focus so intense, it was all she could do not to squirm. "Where is he?"

"Down, boy. Take it easy. There's an old apartment complex on my block. No one's been in it for years 'cause it looks like it'll topple like a Jenga tower if you so much as sneeze. Anywhere else, it would have been torn down ages ago, but—"

"—it's Gotham." Jim was standing now, searching around his desk and coming up with a pen and paper. "Address?"

He pulled out his phone and made a call, letting it ring as he jotted down the address she gave. "Harvey? We got a lead." He sighed, shoulders slumping a little. "I know. No, I know. I know, Harvey, but—Harvey. Harvey?" Jim made a face and flipped the phone closed. He stared down at it for a moment before shaking his head and darting back into his room. He returned less than a minute later, tie back in place, arms full of his holster, jacket, and shoes.

Selina sat up straighter. "Wait—you're going after him now?"

Jim looked at her as if he'd forgotten she was there. "Yeah."

"Even though your partner just told you he wasn't coming." At Jim's look, she continued. "No, I wasn't eavesdropping. It was fairly obvious what went down. So, this is why you always look like you haven't slept in a week. You actually don't sleep. It's all so clear now."

He shrugged into his holster, then his jacket, rolling his shoulders to settle them in place. "How'd you know where he was, anyway?"

"His snake got one of my cats."

Jim looked up from tying his shoes. "You saw it?"

"Ayup."

"You're lucky it didn't get you."

"Yeah, yeah. It's stupid to go in there alone. You should wait for your partner."

"I'll consider it." He waved the address in the air. "Thanks for the tip."

With that, he was out the door and Selina was left to listen to his hurried steps as they echoed down the stairs. She shook her head. Four flights. The fire escape was much faster. Draining the last of the milk, she stood, swung her legs over the windowsill, and leaped out into the Gotham night.

A/N: You’ll never guess what next issue is about!

If you said, “It’s about Jim and Selina going after the Anaconda Killer” you’re exactly right! Good job, you smart cookie.

So, I am currently recovering from typhoid, and my brain was super foggy when I wrote this one. So yeah. If it’s terrible, I blame the typhoid. :P

Follow @thatdarncatchronicles​ and #thatdarncat (no spaces!) to never miss an issue! Next issue up soon. :)

Oh! Also, you are doing great.Yes. You are doing great at life. And if you know you aren’t doing your best--no stress! There’s always tomorrow, and you’re growing and learning just like every other person on the face of the planet. Like me. And my 50 y/o father who told me the other day that he still just feels like he’s pretending to be an adult. He’s really good at it. You will be, too. This is all gibberish, but the point I’m trying to make is that as long as you’re doing just fabulously, and you’re on your way to doing even better. Remember to drink your water today. Hydration is important and makes your skin prettyful. Also, I love you. Peace out, gorgeous soul.

Issue No. 1 | Of Spaghetti and Sneezes:

https://thatdarncatchronicles.tumblr.com/post/620372790294528001/that-darn-cat-issue-no-1-of-spaghetti-and

Issue No. 2 | A Hint of Pesto Aioli:

https://thatdarncatchronicles.tumblr.com/post/620559916396052480/that-darn-cat-issue-no-2-a-hint-of-pesto

#thatdarncat #gotham #gotham fanfic #jim gordon #selina kyle #jim-x-lee #gotham fanfiction #gotham fandom #ben mckenzie #camren bicondova #batman #gotham city #only in gotham #dc comics #dcu #im batman #fanfiction #fanfiction community #writer #writers on tumblr #writing #writers community

[lockdownuk]

Lockdown Diary Part 1

A personal account during the lockdown in the UK due to the Covid-19 outbreak.

23/03/2020 8:30pm Boris Johnson, UK Prime Minister, gives a live address to the nation to, effectively, put the country on lockdown to stem the spread of the deadly coronavirus strain, Covid-19.

Many of us have been self-isolating for days but this latest development within the UK in reaction to the pandemic feels very serious and very scary. I decided to keep a simple diary and where better but online.

Day 1: Last night Boris called it, today we’re doing it. I had started working from home (wfh) yesterday as had most people at my work (RCI)..last week I had been preparing laptops as fast as poss for everyone. Even just today, the idea of going into work seems alien and dangerous. Now lockdown (ld) means that it would soon be illegal to do so unless utterly necessary.

Online, FaceBook (fb) especially, is awash with reaction…a lot of calling out people who are out and about in greater numbers than 2, which is against ld rules.

Day 2: Just trying to let work occupy my thoughts and time which is easy enough ‘cos everyone I support (IT engineer) is new to wfh and is having teething problems with all the new laptops. Meanwhile, I keep abreast of comings and goings online…actually socially interacting more than I might otherwise, weirdly

Day 3: Highlight of the day is an online quiz organised by a chap called Jay Flynn on fb…a bunch of us took it as individuals while chatting on Messenger while Jay streamed quiz over fb live and YouTube. It was a good crack and I had two cans of Coors Light which got me pissed!

Day 4: Work is still mad - so many people with IT issues wfh…it’s challenging trying resolve all these probelms remotely but I am rising to it. I actually enjoy it. It satisfies my want for problem-solving.

The ld is in full swing but it’s very early days. The news is dominated, obviously, by Covid-19 and the ever changing stats of infections and deaths. Today, for example, the USA took over, from China, as the country with the most infections. I know there will be an end to all this and I am determined to be there, going out, getting pissed down the pub, gigging, shaking hands with my mates, hugging anyone and everyone who’ll let me - it’ll be a proper party. But I am filled with a dread that it’s going to be a fucking long time coming.

This evening was spent virtually with Foggy, Ham and Andy P…doing a quiz - a rehearsal for Foggy in the hope of doing one to a wider audience next week. It was good fun and great to have a few beers chatting with everyone, Later I video called Fog and we drank ‘til gone midnight, putting the world to rights. I was well pissed.

Day 5: First non-work day of the ld. Housework, daily walk, out for supplies (drop a script order off…queuing outside boots for 15 minues!, bread, baccy and booze). This evening, I’m listening to the next album in NME list of 1985 albums I’m working through - Grace Jones Slave to the Rhythm…fucking pain in the arse ‘cos it’s not on Spotify so I am searching for each song, in order, on YouTube. Plus eating and drinking, of course. Quick video chat with karen and Grace, Dan in the background. I wanted a tin of kidney beans for chilli but Karen hasn’t got one ffs. Burger it is. They are all playing scrabble - I’d love to join in…

Day 6: A quiet day…housework, cooking, daily walk. Highlight was a half hour chinwag with dad who, as I would expect, despite his 84 years, is coping and doing just fine. Most other people with a dad that age would have, on top of their own concerns, something more to worry about during this crisis….for me, it feels like I’ve got someone to turn to, should I need to.

Day 7: Work is starting to feel more routine but it’s a long way off being in the office, which is never routine anyway. That may seem surprising since I do IT support but it’s a varied role, especially at the modern dinosaur of an organisation that is RCI. I try to be as disciplined as possible but I miss not dressing for work, not driving to work, not needing to actually prepare lunch (until lunchtime). I don’t actually need to shower every morning. I don’t think I have to ordinarily but do because I’m mixing with others in the office. I certainly don;t need to now. I only mix with me, so showering becomes a chore but I’m doing it every other morning in the name of the aforementioned discipline. I am worried how long RCI can keep going before laying staff off. I dread being out of work full stop, let alone during this ld, or even thereafter. I think the economies of the world will need time to recover so finding work will be tough à la 2008. I think, if lay-offs were to occur, I’d be in real danger. Last in first out and all that. But, I’ll cross that bridge if and when I come to it.

Day 8: At work there was a large online meeting whereby the MD told us that RCI are going to furlough some staff. The UK, and Ireland staff will be consulted this coming Thursday and Friday (it’s Tuesday today). I shall be reading up on what the furlough arrangements are in the UK due to Covid-19. I know the government have set aside some money, I need to know what I might get paid and how to claim it. In the past, when I’ve been out of work, I’ve been entitled to jack shit other than JSA, This time around, should I be laid off as I expect, I might not have to eat into my savings, fingers crossed. Meanwhile, I have decided to knock up another blog with a photo of myself each day of the ld (from now on) - it’s a sister to this diary.

Day 9: Actually typing this on day 10. Yesterday was a strange day as I contemplate being furloughed (hope for the best, expect the worst)…I’d be paid 80% of my wage according to what the government have said to assist in the Covid-19 crisis…so, were that to be true, I’d be OK money-wise, although still earning way less than I want to prepared for retirement (I am currently still waiting for feedback on a pay increase request I put in at work last year!) I’m more worried about how I would fill my day if I wasn’t working. So, that being said, I flopped and moped about all yesterday evening after my daily walk and, without achieving much at all, didn’t find time to write this entry on the right day…so maybe I can fill my days without much effort!

Day 10: I was furloughed today, starting 5pm tomorrow (Friday 3rd April) and it’s fucked me off. I know it’s not personal but, actually, do I? They’re cutting back the Kettering Desktop team by one, redacted It seems obvious to do this by the ‘last in, first out’ maxim but what about money? others are on more than me (redacted). What about offering it voluntarily - others might go for 80% pay for fuck all - others have family at home to occupy the day  (redacted) . A little bit of me thinks it might be preferable furlough me  (redacted) …others seems to be a favourite and that annoys me. It annoys me because I think I shoot myself in the foot too often. I’m too vocal about some of the (redacted) decisions and practices at work, plus other reasons that I know but can’t be bothered to type. But, my point, is I don’t play the politically correct, corporate game and therefore forget to look out for my own best interests. FUCK.

So, as of tomorrrow evening, I’ve no work to do. The challenge will be to find a way to occupy my day. I’ve already registered to volunteer for the NHS during the ld…let’s see what becomes of that. And I’ve signed up for web development course. I’m going to get fucking pissed this w/e, starting early tomorrow evening.

Day 11: It’s day 12 as I am writing this entry…that might tell any reader, and remind me, that I did as I promised and got pretty drunk. I spent the day geting my work affairs in order i.e. clearing down support tickets assigned to me. I did a good job, nothing left to handover to the remaining team (Jim, Cristina and Mark) and onky one ticket put into the assigned pool. Some nice converstaions were had with associates, many of whom are, too, being furloughed. Nice words were said and Jim and Mark both were supportive in conversations and messages - they both know I don’t wnat this and, I think, they are both relieved it’s not happening to them. 5 pm arrives and I shutdown my work laptop for the last time for at least 12 weeks. After my daily walk, I video chat with Karen, crack open a beer, make Chinese chicken curry (fucking loads, fucking tasty), finish watching The National Theatre stream of One Man, Two Guvnors (really good, see twoinchreview) and the caught up with, and talked bollocks with Andy, Marc and Ham - we tried getting Rog in on it, no dice. I then watched The Heat (I fucking love that film), ate some more, smoked several single-skinners, drank, in total, three cans, seven bottles. I went to bed shortly after 4am. I felt resigned to my furlough and pleasantly wasted.

Day 12: A subdued day…didn’t wake until gone 1:30pm. Jaded but not really suffering. Mooched about, social media, listening to music, watching telly, farting about on the iPad. My daily walk, over the last fews days, has taken a twist…I am trying to run parts of it. Mainly short distances, 80-100m (I estimate) three, maybe four times. It’s fucking knackering me out. I used to run everywhere when I was a teen. Attempting to run now just makes me feel fucking old. Well, I am, so that’s about right.

Day 13: Another day like yesterday except I got up at 10:30 and didn’t feel jaded. The subdued feeling comes from the realsiation that the ld isn’t being treated as seriously as it should be across the board. The news and even posts by locals on FB (Oundle chatter group) suggest groups still meeting up. The weather this w/e has been a factor - 17°c today. I think a total ld will be enforced soon and that would fuck me off. My daily walk is pretty essential for me nowadays not least for the ‘good for your soul’ benefits that dad has always mentioned. Even today’s walk saw a car parked at the gates to the field on the way to Ashton and people on a blanket soaking up the sun, dogs off their leads and people (looked like a family) playing footy on South Road field. Individually they are not presenting any danger, what with the fact they are either living together or far away from others. But they are flaunting the rules and the more that happens the less likely they’ll carry on getting away with it, which will mean total ld for all! I finished the 50 1985 albums today. It mostly confirms to me that I only listened to two albums released that year (Kate Bush, The Waterboys) any other vinyl I spun would have already been in my collection pre-85.

The sausage casserole I made for tea was fucking lush - 4 birdeye chillies. I saw and spoke with Dan and Grace this morning, they were just coming back from a walk. I am pleased to fuck they are together and sorted out the issues they had earlier this year.

Day 14: My first day proper of furlough. Finished my two inch review of the NME 50 albums. Long chat with Rita, quick one with dad. Messaged Sam about Romiley’s present - she’s 10 on the 9th April (Thursday) - ordered some Lego thing from Amazon. Turned the car engine over (reminded myself the driver-side wing mirror is fucked) and moved it to another spot in the Co-op car park - bumped into Matt T. He’s struggling - no work coming in and he can’t claim any of the money on offer ‘cos he’s not being totally honest about his circumstances - made me realise I’m not that bad off…..but I feel depressed about it all, especially with the news that Boris has gone into intensive care.

Day 15: I began a diploma (?) course on web design with Shaw Academy (it was free). They have actual classes (which are recorded) which you schedule yourself. The first one was, I have to say, really interesting - I look forward to continuing. On my walk today, I saw a car parked at the gate to the field at the bottom of Riverside Close; it was branded with Cunninghams Estate Agent with a 01536 number. I am pretty sure I saw the driver walking her dog (unleashed) on the field. I took a photo and rang the number. Yes, I ratted the culprit out…fucking annoys me that I had to. Better than reporting to the police, all round. Hopefully her work will put a stop to her doing it and, the more people that adhere to the rules without the police getting wind of infractions, the more likely we’ll be able to continue to exercise away from home.

Day16: More online learning including checking out other sites (pluralsight) for more learning opportunities. Coded my first web page, basic but mine, in HTML and CSS. A few beers & smokes and watching White Boy Rick in the evening, interspersed with the usual social media / messaging shit, incuding this entry, of course!

Day 17: Typing this on Day 18. After a few beers last night while chatting with Fog (twice - the first chat ended with him ‘having’ to go to bed. Later, I noticed he was commenting on FB, so I video called him…round two of chatting!). I got quite fucking pissed. Bed around 4am.

Day18: Up at 1pm. Long walk today, 7 km. Anything over 40 minutes, I’ve realised, results in a hypo.

Day19: Well, having gone to bed at gone 5am I got up at nearly 1pm feeling far better than I should have. Breakfast followed by a walk, spoke with Karen (mowing her front lawn) and Dan. He and Grace have split up which is sad news but he seems OK. Went shopping (milk and sweets) and ended up with a shit load of booze, the post of which on FB was quite amusing. Homemade burgers for tea (they’re in the fridge as I type) - gonna try and make Five Guys…

Day20: The Five Guys burger attempt didn’t go as well as I wanted. I think less than 5% fat mince just doesn’t bind that well. However, I managed to get something resembling a burger into the bun and, with cheese, hot sauce and jalapeños, it was tasty enough. More of the same when I finish typing this entry. Strange Easter Day today, as I knew it would be. The best thing I saw today was a video Tom posted on FB of him and Molly doing a mashup of Starsailor and George Michael - Tom on guitar singing the former, Molly singing the latter. It was fucking fantatstic.

Day 21: Easter Monday. Surreal…it’s feeling very surreal now, this lockdown.

Two things that bother me right now:

i) The political point scoring on FB. I get it, I really do…people like to bring up ‘obvious’ failings in the party’s mistakes. For example, Marc posting comparisons between UK and Germany’s figures of cases and deaths due to Covid-19. I doesn’t make impressive reading for the government and it should be held accountable. But not fucking now!

ii) Will they introduce rotational furloughing at RCI? It’s only been a week, 11 to go. And, it bothers me that I was furloughed rather than Mark. Pathetic of me, I know! But, should it last the 12 week stretch, I want to go back to work and let someone else have the chance to have fuck all to do all day! That being said, I’m still learning web design through Shaw Academy. Even today, bank holiday, I revised Lesson 2.

Day22: Nice catchup with Dad today - he and Rita seem to be more than OK with lockdown. I actually cannot wait until we can meet up at The Farmers again!

Day 23: While I had a Corvee engineer come to the house today to do a gas safety check (I waited upstairs while he was here, self-isolation and all that), and had the fourth online web design lesson, had a trip to Boots to pick up insulin, got milk from Tesco’s, saw American Rachel and had a chat (while we both queued to get into Tesco’s) and had a very nice walk along a different route from the norm, in the pleasant sunshine and watched Contagion on Netflix - all today - I AM STILL BORED AS FUCK!

Day 24: I had plans for today - revise the last two lessons of Shaw Academy’s web design course, investigate a ethical hacking course, do some washing, clean upstairs (or at least the bathroom) plus all the usual stuff. Then, as a reward, have some beers. Well, guess what. I am not having beers this evening. I managed the laundry. Plus I manged to subtitle my YouTube perfect snabby video (something I have been meaning to do for a while, but, come on!) It took me fucking ages. But it is funny! So, a fucking far from fruitful day. Plus the government announced at least 3 more weeks of lockdown. There’ll be loads more, I reckon. Tomorrow…I promise I’ll be better tomorrow…

Day 25: I did do better! Firstly the Corveee man fucked the boiler which I only noticed late yesterday but still managed to get sorted today. I did some excellent revision and learning of HTML (tags) and CSS. I cleaned the bathroom and hall. And I discovered TikTok (fucking excellent dancing and funny vids) plus discovered a new FaceBook word game (Sam sent me an invite) called WordBlitz and I am pretty good. Having beers now (nearly 11pm).

Day 26: Today I found myself calling 111. I had a pain in my side last night, I thought it might be constipation! That not being the case (!), today I went to 111.nhs.uk and, following their questions, it recommended I seek out a GP straightaway. Once I let the website know that is not possible, it directed me to visit walk in centres. I spoke with Karen thereafter - for advice about whether it’s a good idea to enter such an establishment - I really don’t want to increase me chances of catching the Covid-19 virus. Karen recommended ringing 111 since the website does not take into account my diabetes (so bloody sensible a suggestion!)

After ringing and answering many questions, the lady said she’d get an OOHS GP to call. The doctor called soon after and it seems most likely I have a grumbling appendix (chronic appendicitis) and to ring again (well, 999) if the pain becomes unbearable.

I now have a bag at the ready for hospital which I really hope I don’t have to use. Today, I  have, therefore, done fuck all - not even a walk - but I am having a beer now (midnight) and shall attempt to sleep as well as possible and hope this pain subsides naturally…

It occurs to me that I turn to Karen when things become flumoxing - my excuse, this time, is she works at the surgery but that was mere convenience.

Day 27: My ‘appendicitis pain was the same when I woke up (10:20) but no worse. I managed to change bed clothes and clean my bedroom but didn’t risk a walk (in case something drastic happens when I’m in a fucking field).

People’s responses and questions online have been heartening (Rachel Harris, Susie Grange, Bethan, Jo, Tracey Weber, Debbie De Prisco and, not least Dan). As the day progresses, I feel better but not right. I spoke with Dad about it and, as I told him, I shall ring Oundle GP tomorrow. Meanwhile, I did Sam Clew’s FB Live quiz, which was good, and am now having a beer or two.

Day 28: The pain in my side has definitley diminished. I called the Oundle surgery today to talk about what treatment I should have for ‘grumbling appendicitis’. The reseptionist organised a call back from a GP - Dr. Cash. Basically, he said he didn’t believe the condition existed, that acute appendicitis doesn’t happen after the age of 35, and ‘his gut felling’ is it will all just clear up.

I shall seek a more sensible diagnosis after lockdown and hope it doesn’t flare up again before then.

Day 29: I sent an email to the team at work today (Jim, Mark, Cristina and Sueanne). I hadn’t heard from them and I wanted to check in and, also, make a point that I will be posing the ‘rotational furlough’ question to HR at some point. It was as I wrote the email that I realised it’s only been two weeks and two days of furlough, and that includes Easter! Seems so much fucking longer. Anyway, everyone replied and it was good to hear from them….Mark came off his bike and broke ribs and collarbone! Lesson 5 of the Web Design course with Shaw Academy. It’s becoming apparent that, if you don’t pay for the course ‘toolkit’ it’s all rather patchy! The instructor dives into lines of code (HTML, CSS and Java) with no explanation….I feel like I did on the ifrst lesson of further maths ate Stamford School! I shall soldier on and beef up the missing parts with W3Schools (a great website and learning aid for coding). Two quick points. I am no longer running any part of my daily walk; hurts too much. I am addicted to Wordblitz and TikTok. Day30: I am writing this on day 31, I just forgot yesterday! It was a non eventful day. I did watch Midnight Run (again!) and had a couple of midweek beers though.

#diary #tumblr diary #lockdown #covid19 #lockdownuk

[splendidlyimperfect]

Christmas Day brings happy reunions and unexpected complications.

Relationships: Natsu x Gray, Sting x Rogue Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Christmas, Family Fluff, Home for Christmas, Meet-Cute, Airports, Blind Character, Disabled Character, Fluff, seriously just lots of fluff, Sting and Natsu are brothers, and are total shits to each other, Tumblr: FTLGBTales Series: Part 2 of Home for the Holidays 2019 @ftmlmages​

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“Mom, did you move the coffee maker?”

Sting felt along the counter where the Keurig normally sat, sighing when his fingers found nothing but what seemed to be a decorative dish of some sort.

“Sorry, sweetheart,” his mom said, coming up behind him and taking his hand, guiding him over to the other end of the counter. “Your brother bought me one of those new ones and it didn’t fit there. Do you need me to show you how to use it?”

Sting frowned, running his fingertips over the buttons on the top of the unfamiliar machine. “Sure. I just need to know how to make the biggest cup possible.”

Sting’s mom laughed, letting him grab a mug from the cupboard before guiding him through the buttons and parts of the new machine.

“Did he move anything else around?” Sting asked when he was finally seated at the table with his coffee in hand. There was the sound of nails clicking on hardwood, and then a warm, wet nose pressed against Sting’s hand. “Hey, handsome,” he murmured, scratching behind Lector’s ears.

“Merry Christmas to you, too.” Natsu’s voice came from just behind Lector as he joined Sting at the table. “And I promise I didn’t move anything else. At least it’s not as bad as when mom lowered the counters.”

Sting snorted. “I had bruises on my hips for weeks, you asshole.”

“Yeah, but I made you grilled cheese to make up for it.”

“You burned some toast,” Sting corrected, “and then put liquid cheese on it. That doesn’t count.”

Continue reading on AO3

“He’s still a horrendous cook,” Gray said, coming up behind Sting and touching his shoulder before sitting down at the table as well. “Last week he forgot to put the pasta in the water and nearly ruined our best pot because he boiled it dry.”

“Look, you were the one who let me in the kitchen,” Natsu said, flicking something across the table at Gray. “You knew what you were getting into.”

“Boys,” their mom chided from the stove. “Play nice.”

“Yes, mom,” Sting and Natsu said in unison, then both burst out laughing.

“How’s the weather today?” Sting asked, nudging Gray’s shin with his foot.

“Gross.” Gray sighed, rapping on the window. “Ryos said his flight’s gonna make it, but it snowed another six inches or so overnight. I’m gonna have to shovel the driveway to get the car out.”

“I can help you,” Sting offered, wrapping his fingers around his coffee mug.

“We could just strap a shovel to Natsu and wheel him around out there,” Gray teased.

“Mm, we’d just have to find him some snow tires,” Sting added, laughing when Natsu smacked his shoulder.

As Gray and Natsu continued to bicker, Sting sighed happily, running his fingers through Lector’s fur. He’d missed this. Moving away had been a huge change, and even though he was glad to have his own space, being back here felt good.

“You all right, love?” His mom appeared next to him, fingers running through his hair, and he smiled and leaned into the touch.

“Yeah, mom,” he said softly. “Just happy to be home.”

~ 

They made it to Gray’s parents’ acreage just after lunch. Sting waited in the front entrance to avoid the inevitable chaos that ensued with a dog, two cats, a wheelchair, and Gray’s three nieces. Once everyone had cleared out, Sting felt a hand on his elbow.

“Hey! I haven’t seen you in a while, glad you made it.” The voice belonged to Lyon, Gray’s older brother and father of the three girls in the living room that were currently begging Natsu for a ride. “Need a hand?”

“Probably a good idea,” Sting said, nudging the pile of boots in front of him with a toe. “Natsu would never let it go if I tripped and ended up with a black eye at Christmas.”

“Mom would be mortified,” Lyon said, gently tugging on Sting’s elbow and guiding him toward the living room. “She’s been panicking all morning over whether or not her house was ‘acceptably accessible.’”

With Lyon’s help, Sting eventually ended up on the couch with Isabella, Lyon’s youngest daughter. “Do you read books with your fingers?” she asked, settling herself comfortably in his lap.

“Sometimes,” he said, laughing as she squirmed to get comfortable. She pressed a small book into his hands, and he shook his head. “Not this one, though. Only special books.”

“Here,” Natsu said, coming up beside them and taking the book. “You sit with Uncle Sting and I’ll read it, okay?”

Nearly an hour later, the front door banged open and Sting heard two people enter and begin to stomp snow off their boots. A cold gust of air drifted into the living room and Sting shivered, tucking his hands into his hoodie pocket.

“Jesus,” Natsu muttered, “it must be almost minus forty out there.” Sting could feel Lector thumping his tail in agreement.

“It’s freezing,” Gray grumbled as he stepped into the room. “And the roads are awful.”

“You survived, though,” Natsu teased, then yelped and added, “Get your goddamn icicle hands out of here!”

“But you’re so waaarm,” Gray teased, and Sting laughed as Natsu elbowed him in an attempt to push Gray away.

“Fuck off,” Natsu muttered affectionately.

“Language,” Gray said mildly. “There are kids here.”

“They’re busy with presents,” Natsu insisted. “And both our moms are in the kitchen, so shush.” Then his voice changed as he addressed the person who’d come into the house with Gray – Ryos, Sting assumed. “Good to see you! You survived my husband’s insane driving?” There was a mumbled affirmative and Natsu laughed, then reached over and touched Sting’s knee. “This is my brother—”

“Sting?” The voice was deep and warm, and very familiar.

“Rogue?”

“Wait,” Gray interjected, “You two know each other?”

Before Sting could answer, Lector had wriggled out from under Sting’s legs and darted over toward where Rogue’s voice was coming from. “Hey, boy,” Rogue said, laughing. “Yeah, we—”

Sting could hear the second that Natsu put the pieces together and exclaimed, “The cute guy from the airport!” Sting sighed, rubbing his face and pushing Natsu’s hand away.

“Ryos, huh?” he said, standing up and moving closer to Rogue.

“These two are literally the only people who call me that,” Rogue said. A warm hand touched Sting’s and he laughed, pulling Rogue into a hug.

“I’m really, really happy to see you,” Sting murmured in Rogue’s ear, hopefully quietly enough that Natsu and Gray wouldn’t hear him.

“Me too,” Rogue said, lips brushing Sting’s cheek as he pulled back. His hand lingered on Sting’s hip for a few seconds longer than was necessary, and it made something in Sting’s stomach twist happily. “I can’t believe we both ended up at the same place. I had a layover because I used points for the tickets and they always send you somewhere ridiculous.”

“This is like something out of a chick flick,” Natsu commented in the background.

“Gray, please smack your husband for me,” Sting said.

“With pleasure.” There was a muttered ouch, fuck you, and the beginning of a threat of retaliation before they were interrupted by Gray’s mom calling them all to the table.

~ 

Dinner was chaotic. It took two tables end to end to accommodate all twelve of them, and Sting hoped his grin wasn’t too obvious when he found himself sitting next to Rogue, elbows touching as they grabbed their glasses of champagne and tipped them forward to toast.

“I’m gonna explode,” Natsu groaned dramatically after dinner as they regrouped on the sofa. Sting could hear Lyon and Juvia putting the kids to bed while the “real grown-ups” (according to Natsu) did the dishes.

“Seriously, I’m never going to eat again,” Natsu said, tipping his head against Sting’s shoulder. Sting rolled his eyes, pushing Natsu toward the other end of the couch where Gray was stretched out.

“Maybe you shouldn’t have eaten half the dish of mashed potatoes,” Sting suggested. Rogue, who was sitting on Sting’s other side in the corner of the sectional, snorted.

“I have no regrets,” Natsu announced, shifting closer to Gray. “They were delicious.”  

“Everything was great,” Rogue said. Sting could feel the heat of him; the way he was sitting, one arm draped over the back of the couch. Part of him was tempted to lean into it. His cheeks were already flushed from the champagne, and the comfortable way that Rogue had touched him throughout dinner – taps on the back of his hand, knees resting together, shoulders bumping.

“You guys wanna play a game?” Gray asked. Before Sting could answer, Natsu interrupted.

“We are not playing Bananagrams,” he insisted. “Or Uno. Sting is freakishly good at both of those and he always wins.”

“How can you be ‘freakishly good’ at Uno?” Rogue asked, laughing. “Isn’t it a game of chance?”

“Ask the person who has won the last twenty-six games we’ve played,” Natsu grumbled. “He’s probably cheating.”

Sting was about to toss a throw pillow at Natsu when there was a thunderous crash outside, followed by a loud, sharp bang and then total silence.

“What—”

Sting’s question was interrupted by someone shouting down the hallway, then the sound of glass shattering and a sharp cry from the kitchen. The couch jostled and Sting felt Rogue stand up quickly, then there were footsteps and concerned voices moving out of the living room.

“Natsu?” Sting reached out and exhaled in relief when he found Natsu’s hand and squeezed it tightly. “What’s going on? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Natsu reassured him, shifting until they were sitting next to each other. “The power’s out, something must have happened to the pole outside. I can’t fuckin’ see anything.”

“Oh, no,” Sting said, rolling his eyes. “How horrible for you.”

“Oh, fuck off,” Natsu grumbled. “Gray and Rogue took off for the kitchen. I think someone dropped something when the lights went out.”

“Where’s your wheelchair?”

“By the TV.” Natsu sighed. “I could probably make it over there but it’s pitch black and the kids left all their toys all over the floor.”

Sting squeezed Natsu’s hand reassuringly. “Doesn’t your phone have a flashlight?”

“Yeah, but I can’t find it.”

There was a quiet woof next to them and suddenly Lector was there, nosing at their joined hands. “Good boy,” Sting murmured, petting his head. “It’s okay.” He reached into his back pocket and tugged out his phone, then pressed it into Natsu’s hand. “I’m not sure how to turn the light on,” he said, “but you can try?”

They sat in silence for a minute while Natsu fiddled with the phone, sighing in exasperation. “They’ll be back,” Sting said gently. “They’re just helping the others.”  

“I know that,” Natsu grumbled. “But Gray should know better than to just…”

“Leave you behind?” Sting could feel Natsu nodding, and he sighed, thinking about the last time the office had a fire drill and he’d been left with Lector, standing by the stairs and not sure which way to go.

As if reading their minds, Gray reappeared in front of them and crouched down in front of the couch. “I’m so sorry,” he said, slightly out of breath. “That was—I’m an idiot. I’m sorry.”

“Is everyone okay?” Sting asked.

“My mom dropped one of the glass bowls and stepped on a piece of it,” Gray said. “She cut her foot, but it doesn’t seem too bad. I think everyone else is fine – Isabella’s a bit freaked out, but the other two are still asleep.”

Natsu didn’t say anything.

“Hey,” Gray said gently. Natsu let go of Sting’s hand and he could feel Gray taking hold of Natsu’s arms. “I’m so sorry. To both of you, that was—I wasn’t thinking, I just panicked when I heard mom yelling. I should have said something, that wasn’t fair.”

“It happens,” Natsu said, but Sting could hear the tense frustration in his voice. “It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not,” Gray insisted. “I’m sorry.” He shifted closer to Natsu, but Sting could still hear the quiet, “I love you,” that he whispered.

“I’m sorry, too,” Rogue added, appearing next to Sting and settling back down on the couch. An immediate sense of relief flooded through Sting and he shifted closer to Rogue’s warmth without thinking.

“It’s okay,” Sting reassured him. Natsu grumbled out an agreement, and Sting asked, “What happened?”

“The storm took out that big tree in front of the house,” Rogue said. “It knocked out the power and fell across your mom’s car and Gray’s.” His voice was soft and uncertain.

“Jesus.” Natsu sighed, pressing Sting’s phone back into his hand. “Glad I left my car at home. All right, I forgive you for being an idiot.” Sting heard him kiss Gray. “Did someone call the power company to see how long it’ll be out? We’re gonna freeze.”

“Lyon’s trying to get through, but the hold times are insane,” Gray said. “Their Twitter account says they don’t know how long it’ll be.” He sighed. “Lyon’s got his SUV with winter tires so they should be able to take the kids and mom back into the city, they can stay at a hotel or something.”

“But we’re stuck in the cabin in the woods, huh?” Natsu teased.

“Looks like it.”

Rogue was suspiciously quiet, and Sting frowned, reaching out and touching his hand. It was trembling. “You okay?” he asked quietly. The affirmative sound Rogue made didn’t sound convincing. Sting squeezed his hand, shifting closer. “What’s wrong?”

“Just adrenaline,” Rogue said quickly. “I’m fine.”

“Does he look like he’s lying?” Sting asked, nudging Natsu with his elbow.  

“I can’t see his face either,” Natsu said, laughing. “No power, remember?”

“I’m not lying,” Rogue muttered indignantly. “It’s just…” His voice trailed off and Sting barely caught his mumbled, “It’s really dark.”

Part of Sting was tempted to tease him like he’d done with Natsu, but he could sense a genuine unease behind Rogue’s words. Instead he shifted closer, slipping his fingers between Rogue’s.

“Why don’t we get the fireplace going downstairs?” he suggested, poking Gray with his foot. “Are the others leaving right away?” He could hear Isabella calling for her mom over the background of muffled talking in the kitchen.

“I think so,” Gray said. “We have a bunch of blankets down there, too, that might not be a bad idea.” He sighed and pushed himself up.

“Don’t even bother with the chair,” Natsu said. “You get to carry me as punishment for being a jerk.”

“I wasn’t a jerk!”

“You kinda were.”

“I said I was sorry.”

“Right, and now you can show me how sorry you are by carrying me downstairs and making me a pillow nest.”

Sting laughed at Gray’s exasperated sigh, feeling the couch dip again as he pulled Natsu up. “You okay?” he asked, and Sting assumed the question was directed at Rogue.

“I’ll live,” Rogue said. Then he squeezed Sting’s hand and asked, “Do you, um… can I help you? Or is that—does Lector?”

Sting laughed, bumping his shoulder against Rogue’s. “Lector can’t see in the dark either,” he teased.

“Oh. Right.” Rogue groaned. “Sorry, I’m so bad at this.”

“It’s cute,” Sting insisted, pushing himself up and tugging Rogue after him. “I’m assuming you have a flashlight?” Rogue made an affirmative sound and Sting let go of his hand regretfully, moving his fingers up to Rogue’s elbow instead.

“Please don’t hate me if I accidentally walk you into something,” Rogue said, kicking something aside and taking a cautious step forward.

“Don’t worry,” Sting reassured him. “I still put up with Natsu and he literally knocked me into a pool one time.”

“That wasn’t my fault!” Natsu shouted back from down the hallway.

“It was definitely his fault,” Sting said. He could still feel the hesitation in the way Rogue moved and he rubbed his thumb against the back of Rogue’s arm, happy when some of the tension dissipated under his touch.  

“I trust you,” Sting said gently, nudging Rogue forward into the dark. “Just lead the way.”  

#fairy tail #ftlgbtales #ftlgbtfics #ftlgbtholidays2019 #ftmlmages #gratsu #stingue #sting eucliffe #rogue cheney #gray fullbuster #natsu dragneel #fanfic #my fic

[gryffindorcls]

Please Tell Me I’m Awake Right Now

(Part 9)

Adrien’s hand felt sweaty in Marinette’s palm.  He was unusually quiet during their short trek to her family’s bakery.  On a typical day, her kitty would try to make her laugh or talk excitedly about something that caught his attention.  Over the past few weeks, she learned that Adrien was vibrant and full of life when he felt comfortable.  So, him walking quietly was a red flag.  He was retreating back into himself, and that was not good. 

Marinette stopped walking and held her ground.  She removed her hand from his and crossed her arms. 

Adrien gave her a nervous look. “Is everything alright?”

“No.  It’s not,” Marinette declared, “What exactly is making you nervous right now?  If it’s still about seeing my parents, remember...they love you.  They already consider you part of the family.  You’ve been over so much during the past few weeks that they get concerned when you’re not there for dinner.”

He chuckled lightly and offered her a weak smile. “No, Marinette.  It’s nothing like that.  There was no reason to be worried about telling your family about us.  They’re amazing people.”

“Then what’s wrong?” she moved her hands to her hips, “I’m not taking another step until you tell me what’s bothering you.  And don’t you dare tell me that it doesn’t matter or that it’s stupid.  Your feelings are important, Adrien.  If this is going to work between us, I need you to tell me when something is bothering you.”

Adrien sighed and slumped over dejectedly.  “Fine.  I’ll tell you.”

“Good.”  Marinette took his hand again.  “I’m listening.”

He took a deep breath.  “Well, first I was thinking about how nice and welcoming your parents are.  I then thought about all the times your dad called me ‘son’, and that made me think about how I wish my father was like your dad.  That led me to wonder how the conversation with my father will go later.  Then I realized that I only have an hour and a half left with you, and that means that I will be standing in my dad’s office in two hours waiting to see his reaction to us dating.  Next, I started thinking about all the different ways that conversation could go, and then I started practicing ways to defend you.  Then I…”

Marinette cut him off by kissing his cheek.  “You’re rambling, minou.”

Adrien touched his cheek and looked at his girlfriend.  “I’m just worried.  My dad isn’t the warmest person.  He didn’t seem mad over the phone, but I can never be one hundred percent sure of what he’s going to do.”

“I thought you said you felt good about all this earlier,” Marinette said while pulling him into a tight hug. 

He melted into her embrace. “I did, but that was earlier.”

“And what changed between then and now.”

“Nothing.  Talking to my dad just makes me nervous, even if it’s not a bad thing.”

“Well, how about this,” she pulled away from the hug and offered Adrien her brightest smile, “if the conversation doesn’t go well, I might be open to having a certain ally cat come and visit me tonight.”

He hummed happily and pulled her back into the embrace.  “Do you think he could come and visit you regardless of how the conversation goes?  He has some stuffy gala he has to attend tomorrow, and he won’t have the opportunity to spend time with his Princess.”

Marinette pressed her face into his chest. “I’ll leave the hatch open.”

“Thank you,” he breathed a sigh of relief, “I love you.”

“I love you, too, Adrien.”  Marinette moved next to him and laced her fingers with his.  

She pulled him along the path and out of the park.  They looked both ways and ran across the street.  The pair were still holding hands as they stepped through the bakery door.  Upon crossing the threshold, they were greeted with an exasperated groan. 

“Well, hello to you, too, Papa,” Marinette said while dragging Adrien further into the shop. 

“You couldn’t have waited until the end of the month?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Sabine!” her father called into the kitchen, “You win!  It looks like they finally started dating!”

Marinette’s hands flew to her face. 

“You made a bet on us?!” Marinette exclaimed, “That’s mortifying!” 

Adrien laughed and comfortingly put his arm around Marinette’s shoulder. 

“Oh, sweetie.  We knew it was only a matter of time,” her mother said while entering the room, “Hello, Adrien.  How are you doing today, sweetheart?”

Sabine walked over to Adrien and gave him a motherly hug.  He happily accepted. 

“I’m doing well, Mrs. Cheng.  Thank you for asking.  How are you doing, ma’am?” he responded with a smile. 

“Such a polite young man.  I’m doing well.  How about you two kids go upstairs and wait for dinner to be ready.”

“Sorry, ma’am, but I have to go home before dinner tonight.”

“That’s a shame.  How about I go put out some snacks instead?”

“Thanks, maman,” Marinette chimed in, “that would be great.”

The two teens bounded up the stairs and into the apartment.  Once they were alone Marinette turned to Adrien and hung her head. 

“I’m so sorry about my parents,” she apologized, “They love embarrassing me whenever they get the chance.”

“Please don’t ever apologize for that,” Adrien said with a sad smile, “It’s refreshing to see a normal family dynamic.  You can really tell that they love you.”

“Oh, Adrien,” Marinette said, guiding him to the couch, “I know it may be hard to see sometimes, but your father loves you...in his own...special...way.”

He rested his head on Marinette’s shoulder, “I know, but I look forward to having a normal family one day.”

“I hate to break it to you,” she noted with a grin, “but if you plan on sticking with me…”

“And I am,” he interrupted.

“Got it,” she snuggled closer to him, “Like I was saying...you’re never going to have a ‘normal’ family with me.  I don’t think two Kwamis are exactly part of your typical family.”

Adrien beamed.  “My only criteria for a ‘normal’ family is one where everyone feels loved.  You make me feel that way, and I can’t wait for everything that’s in store for us.  I know we’re young, but I truly believe that one day we are going to have an amazing life together.”

“Oh, Chaton.  I can’t wait to make memories with you.”

He looked at her with a twinkle in his eye. “We’ve already started making memories.”

Adrien pulled a flat, square box out of his pocket, took Marinette’s hand, and folded her fingers around the gift.  He then sat back and grinned wildly. 

A stunned Marinette stared at the box in her hand and looked back up at her boyfriend.  “Adrien, what’s this?”

His eyes shone with excitement.  “It’s for you!”

“You already got me flowers and lunch.  You didn’t have to get me anything else.”

“I know I didn’t have to, but I wanted to.”

Marinette carefully opened the box and gasped.  Her hand flew to her mouth and tears started to form in her eyes. 

Inside the box was the charm bracelet from the store next to the cafe.

“Adrien,” Marinette said breathlessly, “it’s beautiful.”

“So, I got six charms to start,” he started explaining, “The first two are a ladybug and a cat...for obvious reasons.”

Marinette laughed softly. 

Adrien moved closer to her on the couch and began pointing to the rest of the charms. “I also got a camera and a spool of thread.  Those are supposed to represent us as individuals.  I got a coffee cup so we could remember our first date...well, minus the whole creepy guy hitting on you part.  Finally, I got you the hamster you wanted.  Think of that one as the promise of what’s to come.  I was thinking that I could keep adding charms as our relationship grows.”

She took the bracelet out of the box and examined it in her hand.  “This is too much.”

“No, it’s not.  You are worth more to me than all the jewels in the world.”

“I guess I really do have to get used to stuff like this if I’m going to date you.”

Adrien kissed her temple. “Yes, you do.”

Marinette smiled and shook her head. “You missed.”

She closed the space between them and kissed him.  He smiled under her lips, and she giggled.  They pulled away and rested their foreheads together. 

“Could you help me get it on?” Marinette asked, looking up at him through her eyelashes. 

Adrien sat up and bowed his head. “Of course, my lady.  I am always ready to be of service.”

Marinette smirked as he put the bracelet around her wrist.  “Don’t you mean you’re ready to be of purr-vice.”

He looked up and raised his eyebrows.  “That wasn’t half bad, Princess.  Maybe I’ll have to pass that along to a certain cat-eared superhero the next time I see him.”

“Could you pass something else along for me, as well?”

“It depends, what is it?”

Marinette leaned over and kissed him again.  She moved her hands to the back of his neck while he put his hands to her waist.  Adrien pulled her closer, and an explosion of butterflies radiated throughout her body.  

They broke apart when a soft voice cleared its throat from the room’s entryway.  

Marinette’s head snapped towards the noise.  A fiery blush consumed her features, and she buried her face in Adrien’s shirt. 

“Hello, kids,” Sabine said cheerfully, “Don’t mind me.  I’m just going to leave these pastries here.”

Her mom deposited the plate of food on the coffee table.  She walked away laughing quietly to herself and mumbling something about getting to plan a wedding in a few years. 

“Oh my GOD,” Marinette spoke into Adrien’s chest, “I’m so so so sorry!” 

He laughed, wrapped his arms around her, and held her closely.  Adrien rested his cheek on the top of her head. 

“I’m telling you, it’s fine” Adrien reassured, “I love you, and I highly doubt that it’s the last time something like this is going to happen.”

Marinette hummed happily and relaxed her tense muscles under his loving embrace.

She looked up.  “How much longer do have until you have to leave?”

Adrien groaned and pulled out his phone to check the time.  “Ugh.  I have to leave in about an hour.”

“That’s just enough time for me to kick your butt in Ultimate Mecha Strike.”

“What makes you think you’re going to beat me?” 

“What makes you think I won’t?”

“Oh, you’re so on!”

Marinette quickly set up the game on the television in the living room.  She turned around just in time to see her boyfriend inhaling a croissant.  

“Hungry?” she noted raising an eyebrow. 

Adrien swallowed. “I am a growing boy!”

“My parents will definitely take advantage of your appetite.”

“What?”

“If you haven’t noticed yet, my parents love feeding people.  It’s kind of their thing.”

“Did that love to feed others get passed down to the next generation or no?” a small gravelly voice said from Adrien’s shirt collar.  

Plagg zoomed into view.

“Let me guess, you’re hungry?” Adrien asked while shaking his head. 

“I have been very patient watching you two get all kissy with each other.  I haven’t been fed in hours!” complained the tiny, cat Kwami. 

“Actually, Marinette, I’m a little hungry, too,” Tikki remarked, phasing through her chosen’s bag. 

“I’m sorry, Tikki!” Marinette cupped the Kwami in her hands, “Would you like one of the eclairs?”

The little red being’s face lit up. “Yes, please!”

“See, Adrien?  Look how Marinette doesn’t complain when Tikki tells her that she’s hungry.”  Plagg stuck out his tongue. 

Adrien glared at him. “Well, I’m sure that Tikki doesn’t ask Marinette for food twenty times a day!”

Marinette laughed. “Okay, you two!  Adrien, let’s get your Kwami some cheese, and then I’m going to kick your butt at video games.”

“Thank you, bakery girl,” Plagg grinned, “It’s good to know that someone around here appreciates me.  You are officially my new favorite.”

“Plagg!” Adrien growled.

Once Plagg had been fed and was quietly asleep on a couch pillow with Tikki, the teens played Ultimate Mecha Strike and enjoyed each other’s company.  All too soon it was time for Adrien to leave. 

Before saying goodbye, he ran to the car to retrieve the flowers he had given Marinette at the beginning of their date.  The two then stood in the entranceway of the bakery holding each other in their arms. 

“Thank you for everything today, Adrien.”  Marinette squeezed her boyfriend tighter. 

He returned her gesture with a squeeze of his own. “Anything for you, Princess.  Does this mean I can get that second date one day?”

“Yes, and many more.”

“I love you.” 

“I love you, too.  Good luck with your dad.”

“Thank you.”

Marinette moved her face towards Adrien’s ear and whispered, “I’ll be waiting with the light on, kitty.”

<—Previous     Next—>

AO3

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#adrien x marinette #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste #adrienette #miraculous ladybug #miraculous fanfiction #ml fanfic #fanfiction #ao3 #ao3 fanfic #ao3 adrienette #Please Tell Me I'm Awake Right Now #part 9 #fluff #tooth rotting fluff

[virmillion]

Ibytm - T minus 0 seconds

Masterpost - Previous Chapter - Next Chapter [this is the last chapter] - ao3

Words: 22,758

Logan can’t decide whether he’s so tired that he feels awake or he’s so awake that he feels tired. He shrugs on an old cardigan over his most nicely pressed shirt and dusts imaginary debris off the front of his pants, then mutes his phone. Just in time, too, as another encouraging message rolls in from Cassidy. Every time he tries to leave that confounded group chat, they just add him back in. There’s apparently no escaping ‘the OG fifth floor squad,’ as it’s so belovedly named. And another message, this one drenched in emojis of rockets and stars. And another. Logan allows himself a small smile and sets his phone to do not disturb.

On his way to the door, ready to do what he’s wanted to do ever since he knew what wanting was, he pauses to press one last long kiss to Virgil’s forehead. Virgil doesn’t stir, and as much as Logan wants another goodbye, a final one, a real one, he knows Virgil would refuse saying the actual word. So he instead pulls the bedroom door shut softly behind him and heads for the front entrance, keys in hand. Inches from exiting, he pauses at the sound of the bedroom door opening back up.

And there, blinking blearily against the weak dawn is Virgil, sporting flannel pajama pants and a soft smile. Logan grins and spreads his arms out, holding his breath as Virgil shuffles over and wraps him in a hug. The sleeves of Logan’s cardigan drape around Virgil like a shield.

“I’ll be back before you know it,” Logan whispers into Virgil’s shoulder.

“I know,” Virgil mumbles, slouching until Logan can tuck his chin over his sleep-mussed hair. “Anything else you want to say before you go shooting off the planet?”

“I love you?”

“I love you, too. Little more, though.”

“I love you more than you love bad coffee?”

“Lot more.”

“I’ll bring you the moon?”

“Yes, you will.”

With that, Logan gives him one more firm squeeze, drawing the moment out for as long as time will allow before he heads outside to meet Roman, who looks remarkably close to playing some AC/DC drums on the car horn and waking everyone in a five mile radius. Logan places a hand on the bricks framing the entryway, feeling the cool, stubbly surface under his palms and wondering how long it’ll be before he can touch them again. Wondering how far away he’ll get before he comes back. Wondering how many planets lie between him now and him then.

He hops into the passenger seat of Roman’s car and wonders whether it’s as obvious as it feels how shaky his hands are.

“Your hands are really shaky, my dude.”

Okay, so it is that obvious. “Can we make a quick stop at a coffee place on the way out?”

“Liquid bravery? I’m on it.”

“I thought you called it liquid inspiration.”

“It’s liquid whatever you need it to be, my man.”

And with that, they’re on their way.

---------

After that first time seeing Virgil—Cadmium, as he then knew him—fall asleep on the bench, Logan was in no hurry to become a regular at the museum. But then, things never quite seemed to work out the way he planned, did they?

Cadmium walked through that abstract art room a few more times that day, always with a new cluster of students, and Logan was more than happy to sit on that same bench and watch him go, watch how easily he interacted with the students, how enthusiastic he was about every piece of art lining the walls.

Logan learned not to expect the same information to keep floating over, though, by sheer virtue of how different each tour was from the last. He didn’t think it was even possible to play so many foils to the same thing. Cadmium focused on different works each time, pointed out different areas of symbolism and absurdist conspiracies, and the only constant was him taking a quick break on benches around the room. He had a route through the building, and he followed it well, but all else was seemingly done on the fly.

He rarely returned to Logan’s bench, but Logan was perfectly content to watch him from afar. If nothing else, it was great fun to see various strangers jostle him awake. It crossed Logan’s mind more than a couple times that Cadmium might straight-up not get any sleep, ever, outside of the breaks between his tours. A baseless thought, to be sure, but it kept him entertained well enough.

---------

Logan cranes his neck to lean his ear against the side of the headrest, slugging back a black coffee with five shots of espresso and whipped cream. An acquired taste, Virgil had called it, an acquisition for which Logan is still patiently waiting. Maybe a little impatiently, actually. He drinks it faster, hoping the way it scalds his tongue will distract his taste buds from the flavor—or lack thereof.

“You really want to do this?” Roman asks quietly as he pulls into the parking structure. He gives a low whistle. “Go save the world by running away from it?”

“I would hardly call this saving the world, much less running away from it.” Logan undoes his seatbelt, careful not to spill his drink all over the cardigan that he definitely stole from Virgil’s side of the closet when he wasn’t looking. A big coffee stain probably wouldn’t be the best parting gift for Virgil to remember Logan by, waiting in vain and fearing he wouldn’t return. When Logan returns, he’ll buy Virgil a new cardigan. “You ready to face the director hounding you to change your mind at the last second?”

“I’m ready to ignore him being a hypocrite about how changing my mind from no to yes would be a difficult task, if that’s what you mean.” Roman locks his car until it honks, aiming the key fob over his shoulder and grinning at Logan. “You really gonna down the rest of that thing?”

“Well, since you put it that way, I suppose I have to.” Craning his neck to look at the building in all its glory, Logan knocks back the rest of his drink, right down to the bitter dredges at the bottom. “Virgil’s never even been to the new office, much less to see the launchpad beyond the boundary. He basically only saw the old one since he did that first fetch quest from Alex.”

“OG fifth floor squad fuh tuh wuh,” Roman agrees.

“Fuh tuh wuh?”

“For the win. Y’know, the abbreviation? But, like, phonetically?”

“Whatever.” Logan swings the front door open and holds it for Roman with one hand, using the other to toss his empty cup in the trash. “Just hurry up. This is pretty much the worst possible day for us to be running late.”

“Maybe for you. For me, I’m just following a soon-to-be astronaut around a rocket compound.”

“Don’t hype up something so mundane.”

“Right, right, my mistake. There’s nothing exciting or worth hyping up about launching off the planet with an explosion of scientific magicalness.”

“Not a thing. Hurry up.”

---------

One of the highlights of Logan’s fetch quest app was that it never gave out any personal information in either direction, beyond obvious necessities like delivery location and allergy concerns. An incredibly specific and unrelatable downside to this, however, was that it made it incredibly difficult for Logan to track down Cadmium after his fetch quest delivery to the fifth floor. Logan spent a good chunk of his day after punching out stalking the nearby cafes, coffeehouses, even hole-in-the-wall shacks that had keurigs puttering away in their break rooms. All in the vain hope that he might find Cadmium in the midst of another fetch quest.

He didn’t find him, of course, but he made great new relationships with a few baristas who rapidly grew sick of his chasing down a mystery fetch kid. Heck, Logan didn’t even have the guy’s name, so he had no idea why he was so invested in finding him. Short of exploiting his own app to track him down—which Logan certainly wasn’t about to do, since he did have some sense of decorum—Logan could do nothing but hope to accidentally stumble upon Cadmium another time. So that’s where he was at, and that was where he remained until luck and fate decided he’d waited long enough. Luck and fate, however, took their sweet time in helping him out again.

---------

Logan shrugs his stolen cardigan higher on his shoulders as he and Roman pace through the building, waiting out the T minus 6 hours and counting. Every corner offers more of his coworkers doing their own final base checks, most of them waving excitedly as he passes, and Logan wonders whether any of them know where he’s actually supposed to be going. The director never really specified who all was in on the whole ‘not going to the moon’ situation, and this fact absolutely did not escape Logan’s notice. But then, he’s going to space either way, so why should he care? Achieving his lifelong dream is bound to come with some (possibly legal) complications.

In one of the emptier halls on the first floor, Logan steps to the side and leans up against a wall, feeling the cool metal pressing into his back. Roman stands across from him, playing around on his phone and waiting for Logan to speak first. Logan isn’t really sure what he’s supposed to say, but he knows he has to say something. At the very least, the momentousness of the, well, the moment seems to call for it.

“I’ll make it back,” he finally relents, his words echoing off the tiles around them. Impossibly temporary things, bound to crack at the slightest obstacle.

“I’d expect nothing less,” Roman replies. He lowers his phone and looks at Logan, holding him in place with a stare that shakes Logan to his care. “Because I don’t think we’d know what to do if you didn’t.”

“Neither do I.” Logan folds his arms and imagines Virgil watching the launch, watching it all go smoothly, watching Logan vanish into the depths of the universe, waiting for him to come back, waiting for a transmission confirming a successful return route. Hearing nothing.

He shakes his head, chasing away those fears and hoping Roman won’t notice the lines of worry he can feel skittering across his face. “I think I need some air.”

“That’s fair. Rhyme unintended but selfishly appreciated.” Roman pushes off his own wall first, holding out a hand to Logan. Leading the way toward an exit, Roman fills the space between them with empty words, wonderfully reassuring amidst the stillness of everyone hidden away in their work on this floor. “I mean, you’ve gotta get all the real oxygen you can, right? Not gonna be a whole lot of that for a while here. Or there, I guess. Would it be here or there? I know you weren’t an english major, but this seems like a kind of important distinction to make. Or is it hither versus thither?”

Logan smiles to himself as they step out into the sun, taking in Roman’s nonsense rambles and turning them into shields against the insistent fears hammering a staccato rhythm into his ribcage.

---------

Though he would do just about anything to convince you otherwise, Logan absolutely adored his little impromptu photoshoot with Cadmium in the park. He loved trying (his hardest (and still failing)) to pose like a model in Cadmium’s gear, feeling much cooler with each shutter click than he knew he probably looked.

One fact that lent itself particularly well to knowing he didn’t look the slightest bit ‘cool,’ per se, was when Logan tried to pose up against the big tree, throwing an arm in the air like a college graduate without their cap. It might’ve looked somewhat dynamic —dynamic? Is that the word?— were it not for how the sleeve of Cadmium’s cardigan snagged on one of the tree branches. Logan elected to focus more on this and less on how Cadmium’s headphones came whipping around his neck, the earpad smacking him on the cheek.

Needless to say, it was an unholy mix of heartwarming and humiliating to hear Cadmium laughing at him for that, doubled over and not holding back in mocking how ridiculous Logan looked. Logan’s ears were probably fire engine red by then, but he was far more focused on trying to free his arm from the prison of the tree. By the time he actually succeeded in doing so (and it did take quite a while, mind you), Cadmium was pretty much on the ground in hysterics.

It was definitely worth it, though.

---------

Logan swallows a deep gulp of fresh air, then another, and another, inhaling as much as he can possibly hold and then taking in more. He breathes harder and faster, ready to hyperventilate in the name of getting as much air as he can before he’s stuck with the stale artificiality carried beyond the atmosphere. It’s when his head starts to go foggy that he pulls back, centering himself by dropping to a crouch on the sidewalk and gripping a fistful of dry grass. He rips out a dandelion and holds it up to his face, watching the white flecks fight to free themselves from the seed head. He blows them off and admires the way they dance across the wind.

“Little melancholy there, bud?” Roman crouches beside him and places a steady hand on his back. “Bit more melodramatic than I would’ve expected from you.”

“I’m allowed to have fun,” Logan retorts, ripping the stem in half, then quarters, then eighths, shredding it into little green confetti that showers over the sidewalk. “This is fun. I’m having fun.” He tosses a few pieces up in Roman’s face before he rises, brushing some stray grass and pollen from his—well, Virgil’s—cardigan. Hopefully Virgil won’t mind that he stole it. Roman can always return it later, anyway.

It’s as Logan realizes he’s avoiding the inevitable with these circling thoughts that he takes Roman by the hand and pulls him toward the door, determined to make the most of his last day on this planet before he sees the stars up close.

---------

As he watched Cadmium—Virgil, as he now knew—stride out of the museum on what might’ve been colloquially referred to as their first date, Logan had one of several things on his mind. Primarily the fact that one of his colleagues saw that entire exchange and said nothing of it.

“What’re you staring at?” Logan asked Roman as the latter stepped away from the security guard. “Have you no better things to do than stalk your coworkers?”

“Not really,” Roman admitted with a shrug. “How ’bout yourself, huh? Hanging out with the fetch quest riffraff? Gone and found yourself a hot date?”

At this, Logan’s ears lit up bright enough to shame Rudolph. “Hardly. I was just admiring some fine art, an activity you clearly lack the particularity to understand.”

“Says the space enthusiast to the guy who’s been to the museum more than twice in the last month.”

Logan bit back the urge to correct him, having been to the museum several times in the last month himself. That is, he doesn’t necessarily love the idea of explaining why, exactly, he’d become such a frequent visitor. Instead, he retorted with the incredibly original response of “I don’t have to explain myself to you.” Very creative.

“Never said you did, but I’m glad we could have this interesting and informative chat.” Roman patted Logan on the shoulder as they both moved for the exit, tossing a wave to Patton on the way. “See y’at work, mate.”

“I’m not your mate, pal.”

“And I’m not your pal, mate.” Roman spared a grin to Logan before splitting at the parking lot and making for his car. Logan scowled after him, wondering if this guy would be getting on his nerves too much more after that day.

---------

“Earth to Logan?” Roman says, waving a hand in front of his face. Logan shakes his head, blinking as his eyes adjust to the artificial lights inside, the ghost of the sun still hovering in the corners of his vision.

“Yeah, um, yeah. Left, I guess, so we can look over the stuff the higher ups might’ve missed?”

Roman nods, leading the way down the next several halls toward the first floor lounge area, where almost everything is as normal. It’s weird, frankly, how everything looks exactly the same as it always does. For most of the people working here, the only difference they’ll notice from any other day is a span of an hour or so, during which they’ll have to turn up the volume of their headphones a little. For Logan, though, today will change everything. He’ll return from today a completely different person, but it won’t be evident to anyone that doesn’t already know him. There’s a maximum of about twenty people on this entire planet—in the entire universe, really, if you’re feeling momentous—that would notice how much he’s certain to change after today. He straightens out a few chairs around one of the tables.

“Nervous yet?” Roman asks. A sharp cry escapes him as he ducks to avoid a balled up piece of paper chucked at his head, courtesy of a very nervous Logan.

“Absolutely not,” Logan lied. “I’m insulted you would even ask.”

“Yeah, right. Just promise you won’t hurt your fellow astro-nerds, yeah? Can’t have the mission going south ’cause of your pride.”

“Pfft. As if.” Logan glances askance at some of the dust the overnight janitors missed, hoping his weak response didn’t tip Roman off to just how terrified he is. It probably did, though.

---------

Logan all but ran out of the laser tag arena once the game was over, checking his reflection in his phone screen and hoping his panic wasn’t showing through too obviously. Virgil scurried out after him, still laughing and making fun of everything he could imagine.

“I wish you could’ve seen your face, I mean, you looked downright terrified! Freaking petrified, seriously! Like, I know it’s a high intensity kind of game for a literal adult to run around shooting people with lasers, but you looked like you thought it was the end of the world! Did you really take it to heart that much?”

“I was merely playing it up to enhance the experience for you, since you so clearly seemed to enjoy it more when you were winning. I couldn’t dull the thrill of victory for you. It was only politeness on my part that I chose to sweeten the pot.”

“Bold words for a bad liar, but I guess I don’t mind the way they taste,” Virgil replied, and with no further warning, he spun around and stopped dead in front of Logan. Logan opened his mouth to question it, but in an instant, Virgil had his hands cupped around the sides of Logan’s face, pulling him close in a kiss that was far more surprising than any laser gun shot. Logan closed his eyes and smiled into it.

---------

Logan grins down at his phone as it chimes its personalized ringtone for a text from Virgil. He must’ve accidentally switched off the do not disturb mode at some point. Ignoring Roman’s teasing chides about how Logan was always ragging on some poor, unsuspecting intern or another for disrupting a productive work atmosphere with social media, Logan unlocks his phone and glances over his inbox. Just after his message to Virgil saying ‘home shortly’ is a gif of Chris Traeger from Parks and Rec calling him amazing. He shakes his head and sends back a thumbs up emoji—while not a fan of sending gifs himself, Logan is more than happy to receive them. Only from Virgil, though. Any gifs from Roman are met with immediate complaints and temporary blockings of his number.

“How much longer until three and holding?” Logan asks, trailing behind Roman as the latter continues on their sort-of-tour of the first floor.

“About half an hour, as of last check. Why, got a hot date?”

“Hardly. Not that you’d know anything about that, of course.” Logan pockets his phone and stops cold as Roman pauses in front of the elevators and pushes the button to call one down. “I’m not riding in that steel death trap.”

“You want to climb up seven flights of stairs right before going to sit in a literal rocketship?”

“If it means not riding in the elevator, then yes. It’s not like I don’t already do this every day, anyway. I’ll just meet you up there. Wouldn’t hurt to have the extra exercise anyway, right? Especially with me sitting in that rocket, like you said. Stretch m’legs.”

“I guess so.” Roman shrugs and motions for Logan to head up as the elevator slides open.

It should probably come as no surprise at this point that Logan sprints up the stairs (two at a time) in his efforts to beat Roman to the top.

He does, in fact, beat Roman to the top, by the way.

---------

Having leaned over Virgil to grab the remote from the far end of the couch, Logan gave up halfway through and ended up sprawled over Virgil’s lap.

“Whatcha doin’?” Virgil asked amusedly.

“Grabbing the remote,” Logan said, not grabbing the remote.

“And how’s that workin’ out for you?”

“It is not.”

“Cool. Just making sure.”

Logan stretched his arms farther, more of a delicious pulling at the stiff muscles in his sides than in an actual effort to grab the remote. After enjoying a decent laugh or two (which sent pleasant rumbles through Logan’s skull), Virgil took mercy and picked up the remote himself. Immediately followed by holding it over his head, well out of Logan’s reach.

“Hey, who’s not being fair now?” Though he kept his tone carefully annoyed, there was no way Logan could keep the happy little smile off his face.

“Why are you so desperate to steal my remote?”

“Who says it’s your remote? I’m the name under the contract of this place.”

“And I’m the one that helped you pick it, so the remote is mine. I get legal custody.”

“That does not even a little bit track.” Logan gave up on reaching for the remote, instead slumping back down across Virgil’s legs and letting gravity drag his limbs heavy toward the earth. “Anyway, we need to pick another show.”

“Another show?”

“ Parks and Rec is over. What do we watch next?”

“Next? There is no next. Parks and Rec is now, Parks and Rec is forever. Back to the first episode.” Virgil, now easily in control of the remote that objectively was not his, aimed it at the screen and moved the selection cursor to the first episode of the series. Logan groaned and turned his head to bury his nose between Virgil’s knees.

“I don’t have the emotional wherewithal to survive another round of this show,” Logan moaned. “Don’t make me rewatch it, not just yet.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Virgil singsonged. “Could be fun.”

“What about The Office? You said I needed to watch that, too, right?”

“I suppose.” Virgil harrumphed, drawing Logan’s attention just in time to see him selecting the first episode of The Office. “You don’t have to sit up, but you do have to pay attention.”

“Can I take notes?”

“Please do not take notes.”

---------

As Logan toes the door to the stairwell shut behind him, he has to force down a yelp at the sudden appearance of Miss Katie-Lee, who clutches a stack of folders to her chest.

“Oh, Logan!” she exclaims. “I didn’t expect to see you in here today. Haven’t you got a mission to be getting ready for? It’s nearly through six and counting, is it not?”

“Just doing some last minute checks,” Logan says, glancing at the elevator doors as they slide open and spit out Roman. “Taking it all in while I can, you know? I won’t be seeing it again for a good while.”

“That makes sense.” Miss Katie-Lee smiles brightly, shifting her papers to the crook of one elbow and reaching out her other arm to grip Logan’s shoulder and pull him to her side. Leaning in close enough for her hair to tickle the top of Logan’s ear, she whispers, “I’m so glad I decided to promote you. I know I made the right choice, and you’ve only continued to prove me right ever since. You’re going to do all of us so proud, Logan. By the way, Joy wanted me to tell you something about butterfingers? Like, the candy bar? Said you would know what to say.”

“Oh, um, just tell her Almond Joy for me, please.”

“Will do.” Miss Katie-Lee tightens her grip on him, a sudden hug he wasn’t expecting as she leans in close again. “Seriously though, you’ve blown everyone here away. You might not believe it yourself, but you’ve done so many amazing things, and we cannot wait to see what you do next.”

Logan blinks quickly in a silent argument with his mind not to get emotional. There’s no reason for that sort of thing, anyway, as Miss Katie-Lee moves past him for the stairs with only a brief wave over her shoulder. Roman, on the other hand, looks like his head might pop right off his body.

“Someone’s popular,” he singsongs, resting his elbow on Logan’s shoulder. Logan shrugs it off, pretending to be annoyed by the show of familiarity. Rather than deal with the implications of what he instinctively felt at Miss Katie-Lee’s remark, he does an about face and heads for his (soon to be old) desk.

---------

“Hey, Dad,” Logan said in as cheerful a tone he could manage, clasping the phone to his ear with trembling hands. “Can you get Doddo on the line, too?”

“Oh, Logan, this isn’t an office line, I don’t think I can—”

“Just put it on speaker,” Logan clarified. “Pull the phone away from your ear and tap the—”

“I think I got it!” His dad’s voice neared a shout as he presumably pulled the phone away from his ear. “And your Doddo’s right over here. Say hi to Logan, hon.”

“Hi to Logan, hon!” his doddo exclaimed. Logan winced, leaning away from the crackling feedback in his phone. He had a remarkable tendency to forget just how loud his parents could be. “What’s going on? You hardly ever call us!”

“What? I call you all the time. I called you last week.”

“You should be calling daily,” his dad cut in.

“Dad,” Logan sighed, at the same moment that his doddo chided, “Emile, leave him alone.”

“Fine, fine, every other day, but no less. So what’d you want to talk about?”

“You remember that promotion I was gunning for? The one I had to have that meeting with Miss Katie-Lee about?”

“Oh, I love Katie-Lee! She always sounds like such a lovely lady from your stories. You know, the ones you only share with us once in a blue moon, because you never call.”

“Not the point, Dad. Anyway, about the promotion—um, I got it. That’s what I called to tell you. Is that I got it.” Logan paused, put off by the resounding silence from the other end. Just when he was starting to suspect the call had dropped—his parents had pretty crap phones—he heard raucous cheers and hoots and hollers.

“That’s wonderful, sweetie!” his dad exclaimed. Logan winced and pulled the phone away again.

“We’re so proud of you!” his doddo seconded.

“Knew you could do it.” Logan grinned despite himself, bringing the phone closer to his ear once more. “Have you told Virgil yet?”

“I, um—no, not yet. He isn’t home yet.” This was a blatant lie, by the way. Virgil was in the next room over, and Logan was doing everything in his power to keep his voice low enough for it not to carry. “I’m going to tell him soon, though.”

“What are you—go call him, silly! He deserves to hear this sooner than later, don’t you think?”

“Yeah, I—I guess so. I’ll go call him now.”

“Wonderful! We’re so proud of you, Logan.” Logan could almost hear the smile in his dad’s voice.

“Love you, kid,” his doddo added.

“I love you too,” Logan murmured, lowering the phone and ending the call.

---------

Logan is slow and careful to take a seat at his (soon to be old) desk, absorbing the feeling of the worn cushion beneath him, the way it creaks just so under his weight, the way every inch of it is so indescribably familiar after so many years of the exact same thing every day. He wonders whether it’ll still be here when he gets back, whether it’ll still be this reassuring to find such a constant when everything else could be in all kinds of turmoil. He sinks back in the seat and lifts his feet slightly, crossing them at the ankle. Something rattles on the desk, followed by a crash, then several of his (soon to be old (and probably broken)) belongings are on the floor.

“Nice going,” Roman says with a snicker, bending to gather up the mess. Among the debris are old sticky notes for past presentations, dry pens that Logan is inexplicably reluctant to throw away due to their sentimental value as contributors to some of his greatest papers, Roman, and his old backup glasses, now efficiently split down the middle.

“Oh, and I just had these repaired last year,” Logan sighs. To be fair, they’re been broken several times now—Virgil breaking them just before proposing wasn’t exactly a rare occurrence. If anything, it convinced him to start keeping them at work instead of home. Still, Logan mourns the smooth finish for a moment longer, wondering how many more things he’ll break today. Maybe he’ll break some crucial piece of the rocket and they won’t launch and he won’t go into space and he’ll go home to Virgil and they’ll sit quietly and hold each other until the moon rises above them and—

“You don’t regret this,” Logan tells himself sternly, not really caring that Roman can probably definitely hear all of it. “Stop thinking of ways to sabotage it. You want to do this and you’re happy to be doing this and it’s silly to think otherwise.”

“Yeah, you tell ’im,” Roman agrees under his breath. Logan’s cheeks flush, but he doesn’t acknowledge the awkwardness of the one-and-a-half sided conversation. He instead puts the broken glasses back in their case, where they should’ve been all along. At the very least, they would’ve been safer in there.

Too little, too late.

---------

Logan leaned back on the picnic blanket—more of a towel, but who’s keeping score?—and stretched his hands behind him to feel the damp grass pressing up around them. Beside him, Virgil’s head was tilted skyward, awash in the pale light of the moon, his skin illuminated like stardust.

“What do we do now?” Virgil mumbled, more to the sky than to Logan.

Logan shook his head, his eyes tracing lazy ripples around the surface of the pond. “I don’t know. They don’t usually show this part in the movies.”

“Maybe there’s a reason for that.” Virgil chuckled under his breath and leaned over to bump shoulders with Logan, who bumped him right back. “I mean, how are we supposed to just go home after, um, everything? Everything is different now.”

“Everything is different now,” Logan agreed softly. “I guess we just keep sitting here until we feel too awkward to stay. Or until we get asked to leave for loitering too long.”

“I think you’re underestimating how quickly I can feel awkward. I already feel awkward, actually, so I think you’re kind of out of luck in that regard, so jot that down.”

“I’m okay with that.” Logan scooted across the blanket, fitting the side of his torso against the curve of Virgil’s body as Virgil wrapped an arm around his shoulder.

“You’re okay with how awkward and weird this is?”

“Are you kidding? That’s half the fun.”

“I guess you’re right.”

“I’m always right.”

---------

Still reclined at his (soon to be old) desk chair, Logan plays around on his phone and fields some of Roman’s halfhearted ramblings, waiting for the hour to tick down close enough that he wouldn’t feel foolish for heading out to the launch pad. Though he isn’t one to download many idle play apps, he has enough to keep himself entertained until he gets another text from Virgil.

Logan smiles widely as he opens it, this one a picture of Virgil posed in front of the standing mirror in their bedroom, wearing a familiar sparkling blue cardigan. (‘Baby’s first cardigan,’ as Virgil had once called it. Logan never agreed to that name.) The rip from where it got caught in his car door is almost completely repaired, and the parts that still show through look more intentional now that they’re paired with Virgil’s cocky grin and torn skinny jeans.

“Someone’s got a cutie at home,” Roman butts in, very much snooping on a text thread that he has no business seeing. Logan turns to shield his phone from view, sending off a quick and delighted response before swiveling back to glare at Roman.

“I should hardly think it’s any of your business what or where my cutie is.”

“Oh my god, you just called Virgil your cutie. I’m so telling him that, holy crap. You’re such a dork.”

“You are telling him nothing of the sort.” Though Logan’s words are calm and measured, his voice is panicked and harried as he reaches for Roman’s phone, desperate to keep him from passing his words along to Virgil. “Come on, Roman, don’t be such an ass.”

“You are what you—”

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence, you absolute heathen.”

Roman raises his hands defensively but puts away his phone mid-text anyway, still grinning widely. “You’re such a dork, dork.”

“Takes one to know one.”

“Ouch, that one came all the way out of left field in a third grader’s softball game. Got any more where that came from, or should I go ahead and start applying the aloe now?”

“Oh, just shut up.”

---------

As he walked toward the car with Virgil, shopping bag draped over his arm, Logan hesitated. “You keep going, there’s just something I wanted to check on,” he said, nudging Virgil to keep moving. Virgil shrugged and continued on, accepting the bag and keys. Pausing to make sure Virgil wasn’t watching, Logan doubled back and ducked into the store, where he made a beeline for the counter.

“He returns!” Micah exclaimed. Leaning forward over the counter, he propped his chin on his fist and shot Logan a broad grin. “Where’s your man, huh? How come we never saw him around the office?”

“That’s actually why I came back in,” Logan admitted, staring very closely at the seams of the tiles underfoot. “I know I’ve never been terribly open with my personal life at work—”

“I don’t even know what food you like,” Micah agreed. “Virgil is the only thing I’ve ever heard you talk about that isn’t work related.”

“Exactly. So it’s probably pretty obvious that this falls under ‘things I wouldn’t go around sharing with coworkers,’ right?”

“Right.”

“So you’re going to be a nice, decent person who respects my privacy, and won’t go sharing that information with the office?”

“Right.”

“And that includes not telling Alex, right?”

Micah’s response was notably less eager at that, but after an agonizing pause, he sighed and nodded. “Right.”

With a grin and a halfhearted shrug, Logan tossed Micah a wave and headed for the door.

---------

Begrudgingly rising from his chair to follow Roman downstairs, Logan takes one last furtive glance at his phone, where another picture of Virgil—this one a close-up of his outfit, shimmering like the stars above—waits. He rattles off one final text as they approach the stairwell, beyond which awaits a world where Logan isn’t supposed to have his phone out. Possibly the hardest time he’ll ever have parting with the darn thing, but the moment he gets back, the first thing he’ll do is text Virgil. Or maybe call him, if he thinks Virgil will be up to a voice call.

I love you so, so much, reads Logan’s text. Impossibly cheesy, impossibly predictable, but he doesn’t have the words to encompass everything he wants to say. Frankly, he isn’t sure those words even exist.

Nothing else you want to tell me? is Virgil’s reply, and though it’s a purely text-based conversation, Logan can almost hear the sarcasm dripping from each syllable.

And I’ll bring you the moon.

It’ll cost you the stars, nerd. Go show those space freaks who’s boss.

Logan half-smiles, nearly ready to click off his phone as they near the exit to the stairs. Roman has been mercifully silent the whole way down, perhaps understanding exactly how much Logan needs this time.

“Just one more second,” Logan says before Roman can push open the door. He opens the text back up again, raking his eyes over the promises. They’re good, but they’re not quite enough. He types fast and careful, making sure not to let Roman see it. He has a reputation to uphold, after all. No matter what happens today or tomorrow or all the way until I get back, I need you to know that I am impossibly, ridiculously proud of you and all you’ve done, and I love you far more than any distance or galaxy could begin to encompass.

He hits send.

Then he turns off his phone.

---------

Logan paced from one end of the apartment to the other. Then back to the start. He looked to the door every time it so much as creaked, every time it so much as crossed the corners of his vision, every time he took a breath, but it never revealed Virgil. Never revealed anyone. He rattled off another text, another unanswered call, but no responses from Virgil were forthcoming. His phone was silent. The apartment was silent. His head was neither silent nor loud. His head was static. His mind was static.

Why did I say that?

This question hammered against the corners of Logan’s head relentlessly, beating him down from the inside. He should never have brought it up. Virgil obviously didn’t want to talk about it, and Logan pressing the matter didn’t help. It was all just a big mistake, and there was no way to take it back now.

He crossed the apartment again. And paced back again. And back to the start again.

---------

“Okay, I’m ready,” Logan says, reaching past Roman for the door out of the stairwell. For the door into his future, actually, if you’re feeling momentous. Roman sticks an arm to the side, blocking him from leaving just yet.

“Uh, yeah, no, I don’t think so.”

“Wh—Roman, you can’t just trap me in here. They’re bound to start the three hours and holding soon, we need to go.”

“Not just yet, astro-nerd.”

“If I offer you a better nickname so you don’t have to keep using the same one, will you let me go?”

“No. You need to hug it out first.”

“I need to do nothing of the—” Before Logan can even finish his protest, Roman is wrapping him in a bear hug, squeezing him until Logan thinks his eyes might pop right out of his head. “Why are you—”

“Just take it,” Roman mumbles, holding him tighter still. “I know how much you care about your image or whatever, but no one’s here to see this. Just take the hug and know that everyone on this entire planet supports you to high heck, and know that this hug is nothing compared to how much I’m going to boa constrictor the crap out of you when you get back.”

Logan considers trying to protest further, or at least clarify that ‘boa constrictor’ is not, in fact, a verb, but decides it’s probably not worth it. He instead relaxes (only a little bit, mind you) into the embrace, feeling the weight of Roman’s entire body around him (Roman is rather on the short side) and wondering just how much he’ll miss it once gravity no longer has him in its clutches. Logan sighs and slowly, almost imperceptibly, hugs Roman back.

But if you tell anyone that, he is going to deny it.

He has a reputation to uphold, after all.

---------

The walk home from Patton’s house was utter silence. Logan refused Roman’s offer to give them a ride as politely as he could, given how even the open air of the outdoors couldn’t snuff out the aching awkwardness choking every breath he took. He walked close enough that Virgil could hold his hand, if the urge so possessed him, but Logan made no move to initiate as much. Neither did Virgil. Logan instead focused on his footsteps, on counting the gaps between cracks in the sidewalk, and wondered how fast Virgil did this route in reverse when he ran off.

Logan opened his mouth to say something, anything, but the words wouldn’t come. He closed his mouth and exhaled. Still nothing. Still silence. Still static. Still nothing. With every passing moment, he felt the distance between them growing thicker, felt how certain he was that there was nothing to be done about it.

And then, in the middle of the silence, he felt something. There, brushing against his hand, was one of Virgil’s fingers. Though Logan stiffened, he didn’t pull away, nor did he lean into it. He didn’t even turn his head, too nervous to look for fear of ruining it. Inch by inch, Virgil’s hand drew closer, until they were linked by their pinkies. Virgil squeezed gently, once, just once, but said nothing. Logan squeezed back.

---------

“Are you sure you’ve got my parent’s numbers right?” Logan is currently pestering Roman like there’s no tomorrow as he follows him out of the stairwell, with more than a little paranoia in his step. “You know what order to call them? You know what to tell my dad and what to leave out when you talk to my doddo?”

“I quadruple checked before we even left the parking lot,” Roman says coolly.

“Should’ve quintuple checked,” Logan grumbles. “Fifth time’s the charm.”

“Fifth time’s the time you second guess yourself and get it wrong.” Roman holds his hand out expectantly, closing his fingers over Logan’s phone when he grumpily hands it over. “See, isn’t that better?”

“Maybe if I just check my texts one last—”

“Nope, you’re done. Incommunicado.”

“Oh, so you finally cracked open a dictionary like I asked?”

“Actually, I just had some Jimmy Buffett on my youtube recommendations.”

“Youtube only makes recommendations based on similar content, so unless you were already listening to James Buffett, you have no ground on which to stand right now.”

“At least I’m staying on the ground.” Roman jumps up and down a few times for emphasis, pounding his feet against the pavement. Logan ducks to the right to avoid his flying elbows. “Can’t say the same for you in a hot minute here.”

“More like a hot few hours here.” Logan glances at everything around the looming rocket ahead (definitely not at the rocket itself) and locks eyes with a tech running around with three fingers in the air beside a clenched fist. They nod at him once before vanishing behind the thing that’s about to fulfill Logan’s lifelong dream. He looks away. “Make that a hot few three hours and holding.”

“Well, let’s get a move on, Spaceman Stu. Got things to do, places to be, planets to see.”

“You did not just compare me to a McDonald’s commercial targeted at children.”

“I mean, I absolutely did just do that though, so I don’t know why you’re blatantly lying to yourself.” Roman picks up his pace, almost running for the rocket now. Logan hesitates and bounces from one foot to the other, half wanting to follow him, half wanting to turn tail and sprint home to safety. He follows Roman.

---------

Logan tucked his legs up under him on the well-loved armchair in the living area, a legal pad propped on his bent knees. Sprawled out across the couch was Virgil, his head hanging past the cushion and the longer sections of his hair brushing the floor below. His face neared a flattering tone of cherry red.

“That can’t be good for your blood flow,” Logan commented idly. He allowed himself a small laugh as Virgil stuck out his tongue, a face which looked all kinds of ridiculous and adorable given his current position.

“My good ideas are all in my feet,” Virgil explained. “I’m sending them straight to my brain, and this helps.”

��I’m pretty sure it doesn’t.” Seeing the fruitlessness of trying to convince him otherwise, Logan turned his attention back to his notepad. Several lines of messy scribbles, half-baked ideas, and innumerable attempts at improving his signature with various last names. Walders, Sandovall, Waldovall, Sanders. He made another attempt at a loopy ‘Logan Waldovall,’ but it didn’t look quite right. “Hey, love?”

“Yeah?”

“Which last name are we going with?”

“What’re the options?”

“Option one is Waldovall, option two is Sanders, and three and four are Walders and Sandovall. Or we could just pick a brand new surname out of nowhere. Now’s your chance to try out ‘danger’ as a last name. Logan and Virgil Danger.”

Virgil pursed his lips and hummed, closing his eyes. Even his eyelids were turning a faint pink. “I like that last one, but hands down my parents won’t go for it. Three and four are boring. The first one’s fun to say, but there’s way too many L’s in it. I mean, we both already have an L in our first names, anyway. Just complicates it, y’know?”

“Sure. I like option two, too.” Though Virgil didn’t explicitly say as much, didn’t fully commit to it, Logan got the idea pretty clear. He made another attempt at a loopy signature. ‘Logan Sanders.’ Actually, he rather liked how that one looked. He did it again, then drew a few little hearts around it. Then he felt his face burning bright red as he realized what he just did.

He flipped the page and started scribbling out rough wedding vows, intently ignoring how that was no less of a cheesy thing to do than drawing little hearts around his name. He also ignored the hearts slowly filling the margins of the new page.

---------

Logan, as you’ve undoubtedly come to understand by now, thinks of himself as having a reputation to uphold, a fact of which he’s made no secret. A reputation of iciness and undaunted calm and generally just not caring about what happens around him, provided he comes out on top.

You’ve surely also come to understand by now that this reputation is not even a little bit accurate to how Logan really feels.

As he skulks behind Roman toward the rocket, keeping his focus forward and forcing his head not to crane up to the top of that monster of a machine because he definitely doesn’t have to acknowledge it yet, Logan is ready to leap out of his skin. He folds his arms and digs his fingernails into his biceps, focusing on remembering to inhale. It crosses his mind that the air might taste different, too, once he leaves. Or even once he comes back, having gotten used to whatever poison Neptune has to offer. Should he be concerned about the taste of the air? What if he forgets how to breathe up there? What if he forgets how to breathe when he comes back? What if he contracts a mysterious space disease that makes him forget how to talk, and he won’t be able to tell the world about what he and his crew find up there?

“Get out of your he-ead,” Roman sings, drawing out the last word as he doubles back to bump shoulders with Logan.

“I’m not in my head,” Logan lies. He’s not very good at lying, by the way.

“I am going to put a literal padlock on your brain if that’s what it takes, my dude.” Roman throws an arm around Logan’s shoulders, using the other to grind his knuckles into Logan’s hair. A fairly impressive feat, given that Logan has a solid few inches on him. “Knock knock, anybody home? Delivery for Logan’s hopes and dreams?”

“Don’t you think you’re overselling this, just a little bit?” Logan pulls away and straightens out his hair, glancing around furtively to make sure no one important saw that. Roman doesn’t count as important, by the way.

“Not only do I not think I’m overselling this, not even just a little bit, I think I’m underselling this,” Roman replies. “You’re acting like you’re just taking a little road trip.”

“That kind of is what I’m doing.”

“Yeah, if the highway is rainbow road and you’re Mario Bounceboy Mario himself.”

“Jumpman.”

“Nerd.”

“Prep.”

Roman grins and does a twirl as he runs ahead again. “You say to the guy with your phone, which has your only lifeline to your Princess Peach.”

“Virgil is neither a princess nor a peach, and you aren’t supposed to have phones on, anyway, so you don’t have that lifeline, either.” Immediately after saying as much, Logan wonders whether he’ll live to regret giving Roman the job of keeping his phone safe. Maybe he should’ve left it at home with Virgil. It’s not like it really matters though, right? He’ll be back and talking with Virgil, face to face, in no time. He will.

He will.

---------

Logan felt his chest seizing up as people started clearing off of the wood-tiled dance floor, giving a wide berth for him to walk through, Virgil at his side.

“Don’t be nervous,” Virgil whispered, squeezing Logan’s hand between their laced fingertips.

“I’m not nervous.”

“Funny. I don’t believe you.” When the smallest sliver of his shoe tapped against the polished wood, Logan was pretty sure his heart skipped a beat. He held Virgil’s hand tighter as the music picked up.

Chills skittered over Logan’s skin as the hesitant piano chords faded in, casting a melancholy glow of warmth over the room. The first hints of lyrics swelled in gentle waves as Virgil stopped and turned to face Logan, their arms around each other as a doleful voice sang sweetly into the air. No more talk of darkness, it crooned, forget these wide-eyed fears. In time with the words, Logan felt his nerves melting away, losing himself in Virgil’s eyes as the piano picked up, the chords slowly becoming insistent, pleading to be heard under the careful conversation of a melody passing overhead. By the time the orchestra found its footing beneath it all, pushing the words up like so many rafts along a wave rolling across the ocean, Logan’s skin was dancing in goosebumps. He held Virgil closer, closer, seeing nothing but Virgil’s eyes, feeling nothing but Virgil’s hands, hearing nothing but the lilting harmony from the speakers.

Say you love me , the music sighed, and Virgil joined in, mouthing the words carefully and holding Logan’s gaze. Logan’s lips curved up ever so slightly as the music marched on, and he mouthed the response back, never having been more certain of anything else in his life. You know I do.

---------

“Pop quiz!” Roman shouts, running up and slapping the side of the rocket.

“Please refrain from slapping the rocket,” says the person who called three and holding, as unfazed as if Roman had eaten the uncooked noodles on display at Olive Garden.

“Pop quiz,” Roman repeats, quieter this time. Instead of slapping the rocket, he pokes it with the tip of his finger.

“Please refrain from poking the rocket.”

“Pop quiz?” Roman’s voice is a whisper as he gives the rocket an air hug. Three and holding purses their lips, but says nothing. Roman lifts his arms in a victory V. “Pop quiz!”

“Pop quiz.” Logan funnels all of his available energy into sounding unimpressed with Roman’s theatrics. It doesn’t not work, at least.

“How big is an astronomical unit?”

“The distance between Earth and the sun.”

“Yes, exactly, almost enough space—ha, space—to encompass my stunning personality.”

“Said like a person doing a parody of a person from Texas.”

“Pop quiz part two! What is the smaller dark spot on Neptune?”

“The Small Dark Spot. Is there a reason you’re doing this, or—”

“Pop quiz part three! Why would the little mermaid be interested in Neptune’s largest moon?”

“I don’t see what any of this has to do with—”

“Answer the question, Spaceman Stu!”

“Stop recycling your nicknames, or people will realize you aren’t as creative as you claim to be. The largest moon is called Triton, which is the name of the father of Disney’s rendition of the little mermaid.”

“How many hours does it take Neptune to do a full rotation?”

“Eighteen.”

“Exactly, which makes it of legal drinking age in the United—”

“That is not correct in terms of how hours or United States laws work.”

“Neptune could drive a car if it wanted to!”

“Roman, seriously, what does this have to do—”

“Neptune is of legal age to race in Mario Kart and knock you off the rainbow road!”

Logan buries his face in his hands and shakes his head, massaging his temples.

“Three hours and counting,” three and holding calls cheerfully. Logan looks up and gives them a half smile as they flash him a thumbs up before switching back to demonstrating the time. Three fingers up, the other hand splayed and parallel to the ground. “Gettin’ close!”

“Close to pushing Roman off rainbow road myself, maybe.”

“What!”

---------

Virgil tossed his controller across the couch and grumpily crossed his arms with a harrumph before throwing himself against the back cushion. “You’re super mean, y’know that?”

“I know,” Logan replied as he moved to lean on the couch, still sipping from his own mug. “I’m such a meanie-pants for spilling your coffee, but again, it can’t be proven, so I guess you’re just screwed, huh?”

“I want a rematch.”

“And you really think I’d agree to that? You’re throwing a tantrum over me not giving you your drink, and I do not engage with tantrum throwers.”

“Too bad you’re stuck with me now.” Virgil held up the band around his finger with a wide grin. “There’s no escape from this tantrum thrower. Now come get your controller, I want to destroy you in smash bros.”

“As long as—”

“You are not playing as Link.”

“He’s the only one I like, though. We’ve got the same first initial.”

“Now who’s throwing a tantrum?”

Logan glanced over at Virgil, who was still pressing himself back against the couch cushions. His legs almost looked to be shaking from the tension of holding himself in place. “You know, I think it’s still you.”

“Whatever. Just grab your controller, okay?”

With a soft smile and another sip of his drink, Logan finally took back his seat and reached for his remote, which Virgil promptly snatched and threw across the room—aimed for a soft landing on the armchair, of course, so it wouldn’t break.

“You know, I think you’re right. I am still throwing a tantrum!”

---------

“I mean, it’s basically just a really fancy car, right?”

Logan watches Roman circle one of the bases holding up the rocket again and shakes his head, sidestepping to get out of the way of another tech. “That statement was not even a little bit correct, let alone realistic. I’m personally kind of offended you would even say something like that. Derivative at best. There’s not even a source for you to be derivative of, either. It’s derivative of stupidity, and that in itself is derivative. Roman, you’re derivative.”

Roman expertly ignores Logan’s trailed-off rambles in favor of the actual point of his response. “It’s like a souped up motorcycle, though. It’s got an engine, and metal bits, and, um—”

“You are digging yourself a deeper hole than should be possible. Put the shovel down and stop talking.”

“Like a really cool minivan, like the soccer mom all the other kids are jealous of. Like the team mom who brings cookies and gatorade instead of orange slices and water, and she gets in a fistfight with the only team dad who brings brownies and powerade.”

“No.”

“Like the vulture rolling up on a sick motorcycle and being cool all over the missing persons case location.”

“Just because I’ve watched Brooklyn 99 does not mean I go around referencing it all the time like that.”

“One singular time does not count as all the time. Like driving a retro mustang down an old country back road with the top down and your hair all majestic in the wind.”

“No.”

“Like slugging your friend when you see a punch buggy drive by.”

“It’s called a slug bug, and no.”

“Like Mayor Dewey driving around his campaign van.”

“Please stop making pop culture references.”

“Please stop stifling my creative whimsy.”

“You are incorrigible.”

“I take pride in that.”

“Do you even know the meaning of the word?”

“I don’t have to to be proud of it.”

“I really think you might want to look it up, though.”

“And yet, here I am. Doing none of that. We love that for myself.”

Logan wonders whether time dilation is observable over the span of three Earth hours.

---------

Virgil just about bounded out of the car dealership when Kathy mentioned taking a walk around the showcase to see their options up close. A bemused smile found a home on Logan’s lips as he stood to follow Virgil at a much more leisurely place, not having expected him to be so excited to look at a bunch of cars. Or maybe Virgil was just sick of sitting still for so long—Logan was beginning to feel a bit jumpy himself.

“Most of the vehicles fitting your range and preferences will be in this general area,” Kathy explained, gesturing toward a few modest clusters of cars. Virgil strode right past the soccer mom vans and the less showy sports cars, looking at the basic models that Logan noticed more of on the streets on their way here. “Keep in mind that if there’s a particular color you have in mind that you don’t see, we might be able to bend around and find one at our sister locations.”

“Thank you,” Logan said, still watching Virgil dart around. “That one on the papers you showed us inside, is that what you would recommend for a first car? I have my license, of course, and all of the appropriate paperwork, but it has been quite some time since I last operated the same vehicle for more than a week straight.”

“Mooching off the parents?”

“Something like that.”

In a blink, Virgil was back at Logan’s side, tugging on his arm like an excited child at the grocery store. “It’s definitely outside our price range, and you probably wouldn’t be caught dead driving it, anyway, but I want you to come see this one.”

Logan shot Kathy an amused look before giving in to Virgil’s insistence. “Well, let’s go have a look, then.”

---------

“Alright,” Logan says, more to himself than to Roman, “final check time. Final check. Here we go, checking the final things that need to be checked. Is what we’re checking. Is the final things.”

“What was that about not being nervous?” Roman asks as he trails Logan’s frantic pacing circles. “It’s several people’s literal jobs to have checked these things already. Several times over, in fact. You’ve survived to three and counting, pal, just calm down and take it in. This should be exciting, you know?”

“I’ll be excited when I’m on the surface of Neptune,” Logan retorts, very much nervous and very much showing it. “Should I have made a paper checklist? Should I be physically crossing things off? I feel like I should be physically crossing things off.”

“People have already physically crossed those things off for you. It’s not your job to be panicky about this, okay? It’s your job to be gearing up, getting pumped, you know?” Roman’s voice, now quickly moving from teasing and into the realm of forced encouragement, does nothing to ease Logan’s nerves.

“Why didn’t you tell me not to agree? Obviously you knew something would be going wrong, or you would’ve said yes to the mission yourself. I think I made a mistake, Roman, oh man, I think I need to back out, I think I need to go back home and forget I ever even thought about—”

“You don’t need to be doing any of that,” Roman interrupts. “I said no because this was not what I’ve been going for my entire life. For you, it is. This is all you’ve ever wanted, yeah? Savor that, just, like, you gotta make the most of this. You don’t know when you’re gonna be able to do this sort of thing again, if ever.”

“Maybe,” Logan says noncommittally. He wonders how long it’ll take for him to believe that this is really happening.

He hopes it’ll be soon.

---------

As they drew near the checkout lanes following the warehouse aisles at Ikea, Logan was more than a little impressed by how well they’d managed to make out. That is, holding zero things requiring a purchase. Nothing like keeping a wallet shut to inspire saving money, right?

This mindset only really works if you ignore all the exciting things you actually do want to buy.

“We have to buy something,” Virgil grumbled. “We’re running out of stuff to buy, and walking out empty handed is no fun. Plus, they might think we stole something. Think of how suspicious we look, only getting a cinnamon roll and walking the whole store and not making a single purchase!”

Logan sighed and shrugged, glancing at the aisles around them. “If you can find something under twenty dollars before we reach the cash registers, I’ll buy it for you. It has to be a necessity, though. We do kind of have a car to pay for now.”

“Done and done.” In an instant, Virgil was gone and back, now clutching a stuffed shark in his hands. “I want this one.”

“That is not a necessity. How much does that thing even cost?”

Virgil forced a pout and held the toy closer, tucking it under his chin. “Her name is Maria and she’s nineteen ninety-nine and I love her and that makes her a necessity.”

“You’ve been spending too much time with Patton.” Logan sighed again, then glanced forward to see the checkouts getting pretty darn close. Too close to make an argument for one of the incredibly few things for sale between there and the door. “Fine. You can get Maria.” Virgil grinned wide, holding the shark to his heart all the way to the car. Suffice it to say, a similar smile wormed its way onto Logan’s face when he saw how stupid happy the shark made Virgil.

---------

“Yeah, um, I think we should probably get a move on,” Roman says, tugging at the sleeve of Logan’s cardigan. “Think they want us to get on out of the way.”

Logan nods blankly, his hand resting gently along the side of the craft. He doesn’t remember putting it there. Three and holding is nowhere to be seen, or at least isn’t close enough to yell at him for it. The surface is so smooth, so solid, so impossible to imagine it ripping through the layers of the atmosphere and breaking free from the shackles of gravity and earthen physics. He certainly doesn’t step away from it, and he’s kind of sort of looking at it now, so that must count for something.

“Logan?”

“Yes.”

“We should get moving?”

“We should.” He still doesn’t move.

“Alright, okay, come on.” Logan barely registers Roman’s words as he distantly feels a hand clamp around his wrist, pulling it off the rocket. “Onward to your future, which starts inside that building way over there.”

Logan blinks and follows him blindly, not really processing his words until he hears a sound akin to a monster grumbling from the depths of hell.

“What was that?” He almost doesn’t recognize his own voice saying more than two words.

“My stomach.”

“And you have nothing further to say on the topic?”

“Uh, no? Should I?”

“Uh, yes?”

“Why?”

“Because you should be concerned! What did you even have for breakfast today?”

“Expired toaster waffles, peanut butter, and sugar.”

“Expired waff—what do you mean, sugar? What does that even mean?”

“It means I toasted two expired waffles, slapped some peanut butter on one side of each, four spoonfuls of sugar on each, and slapped those puppies together. Peanut butter sugar sandwich. Breakfast of champions.”

“You literally disgust me.”

“What! My good sir, I should hardly think my diet to be the one under fire here!”

“Be the one under—Roman, have you even heard a single word out of your mouth today?”

“Yes, and every single one tasted like sugar and peanuts. I don’t think I see your point here.”

“Never mind.” Shocking though it may be, Logan still hasn’t learned when to give up on a pointless argument with Roman. Mostly because those arguments tend to be one-sided and completely irrational, but still.

---------

Logan strode over to the sink, taking Virgil’s empty plate on the way. With a pitiful microwave breakfast sinking heavy down his stomach, he flicked on the faucet and ran it over the few crumbs that managed to escape the vacuum that was Virgil’s mouth.

“Oh, hey, when do you—” Virgil began, immedaitely cutting himself off when Logan flicked some water in his face. By accident, of course—he was merely surprised by Virgil’s sudden and quiet appearance—but it still looked pretty darn funny. “Dude, hey!”

“Hey, dude.” Logan ducked as Virgil swatted a hand over his head, but rather than back away like a grump, Virgil doubled down. He reached for the stream of water, drenching his hand in it and shaking it in Logan’s face. Logan wrinkled his nose and squealed childishly before angling the plate under the spout so it streamed out and splattered over Virgil’s torso.

“Uncalled for!”

“You started it.”

“You started it!”

“No, but I’ll finish it!” Just to prove as much, Logan turned down the pressure of the faucet, hard and fast enough that the sudden change sent water lapping at the upper edges of the sink. He pulled off the detachable faucet and set it to sprinkler, aiming it at Virgil. “Beg for mercy.”

“I would never.”

Logan shrugged, a wicked smile spreading across his face. “Suit yourself.” And he turned on the water, full force. His own cackles drowned out Virgil’s delighted shrieks.

---------

“So,” Roman says, not at all being casual or cool about it, “do we count as being friends now?”

“I—what?”

“Us. Me, you, the ol’ work colleagues. Do we count as friends? Will you admit now that we’re friends?”

“That’s hardly an appropriate question. I mean, I cannot think of a single scenario in which that question would be expected or understandable to field.”

“You don’t like me even a little bit?”

“I don’t think—”

“Then stop thinking.”

Logan cocks his head to the side, hesitating at the entrance to the building. It’s odd, isn’t it, how many people have said that to him? Provided ‘more than one person’ counts as odd, at least. “What’s your point here, Roman?”

“To get you to admit that you’ve grown emotionally as a person over the last few years, at least enough to accept that you’re allowed to be friends with more people than just your husband.”

To be completely honest, Logan was not prepared for that answer. He was expecting something more along the lines of ‘I felt like messing with you on your big day.’

Roman holds an arm out to block the door—apparently his favorite strategy in prolonging conversations today—and turns back to look at Logan. “You’ve never wanted to admit that you’re human, Lo, but you do realize you don’t have to be stone cold all the time, right? You’re allowed to feel things.”

“What is it with everyone running around and giving me permission to have emotions?” Logan mutters, very intentionally dodging the rest of Roman’s earnest words. “Can’t everyone just drop that stuff at the door?”

“Aw, now that’s no fun.”

“Great. Now that we’ve got that weird little stint sorted, if you would be so kind as to let me—”

“Nope. Friendship time. We already hugged it out, now you gotta tell me you think of me as a friend.”

“This sounds like blackmail.”

“Blackmail is one of the key foundations for a solid friendship.”

“It really isn’t, though.”

“How would you know, if we aren’t friends?”

“If I saw we’re friends, will you let me inside so I can go get changed?”

“Yes.”

“Fine. We’re friends.”

“Aw, Logan, we’re besties!”

With that, Roman wraps Logan in yet another bone-crushing hug, and Logan wonders whether he could be prosecuted for manslaughter if he’s on a different planet by the time law enforcement found out.

---------

Once Virgil was sufficiently distracted by whatever turn Patton’s topic of conversation had taken—Logan could never seem to keep up with that guy—Logan sneaked away from the table under the excuse of wanting another coffee. This, of course, meant he was stuck taking a second round of orders from the rest of the table, but it wasn’t too much of a hassle. Actually, it helped him with what he was trying to accomplish.

“And twenty dollars on this gift card, please. A separate receipt, too, if that’s not too much trouble,” Logan said, offering the barista a weak smile for the four drinks he’d just ordered. Hopefully they wouldn’t be too annoyed by the task, given that the cafe wasn’t too busy yet. Late enough in the day to miss the morning commute, early enough that high schoolers hadn’t escaped to their coffee hangouts yet.

“No problem! Anything else for you today?”

“Nope, that, um, that should do it. Thank you.”

“Sure thing! That’ll be thirty five dollars even, whenever you’re ready.” The barista smiled brightly and gestured toward the card reader before turning to the bar, presumably to get started on Virgil’s ungodly order of pure caffeine and sugar. Once the register spat out two receipts, Logan pocketed them with the gift card, masking the outline with his phone.

Though Virgil always accepted Logan’s attempts to keep costs down to the bare necessities, Logan couldn’t help it this time, too enamoured by the gift card selection. Basic and silly, sure, but he adored the design on this one—blues and greens slashing like lightning across the facade, with looping curls of purple spelling out the word ‘love,’ surrounded by matching purple hearts. So ridiculously, utterly cheesy, but Logan couldn’t quite find it in himself to care.

Drinks in hand, Logan used the distraction of the delivery to sneak the gift card into the pocket of Virgil’s cardigan. He couldn’t wait to see Virgil’s face when he found it.

---------

Logan pulls open the door to the crew quarters and makes a beeline for the closet against the left wall, Roman hot on his heels.

“Getting excited? Or is it all still nerves, bestie?”

“Yes, no, and I never gave you explicit permission to call me that.”

“Can I call you bestie?”

“No.”

“Capisce, caposh, cohort.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Right, ix-nay on the ohort-cay, comrade.”

Logan rolls his eyes as he tugs open the closet door. Pretty barren, to be honest, save for a few pieces of a uniform and an abundance of empty coat hangers. He takes his time leafing through the set, tracing his finger along his name embroidered on the emblem on the outer shirt’s left breast pocket.

“Pretty sleek get-up there, compadre.”

“Yeah.” It’s less of an acknowledgement of Roman’s words, more of a choked exhale at the fabric beneath his hands. Logan blinks back tears he wasn’t expecting, releasing the uniform to press a fist against his mouth. “Yes, it is.”

“Hey, uh, comate? You good there?”

“Good. Yes. Good, um, great, even. I’m good. Very, really good.”

“So, compatriot!” Roman’s voice ramps up a solid two clicks, booming in Logan’s ears. At the feeling of Roman slinging an arm around his shoulders again, Logan shakes his head and drops his fist, sniffing hard. Roman lowers his tone this time, much more gentle, much more—well, much more not like himself. Much more sincere. “Was it worth it?”

“Was it worth what?”

“All of it, everything. Working yourself to the bone every night, dealing with having me as your closest confidant, all the stress, all the hours, all of that. Was it worth it?”

Logan’s eyes refocus on his name, on the elegant slope of the dark blue letters against the pure white patch. It all goes blurry at the edges, just enough for Logan to know the tears are back, but he doesn’t blink them away this time. “Yeah. Yeah, it was worth it.”

---------

Logan always fancied himself as being pretty good at falling asleep quickly. It held up through his childhood, it help up when he sat awake in the middle of the night with inexplicable sweat racing down his back, it held up when he crashed after a long night of homework in college, it’s held up through the work his bosses liked to pile on him at NASA, and it’s held up his whole life. Excluding tonight, of course.

He curled up in a ball on his side of the bed, the covers somewhere near its foot as he stared at the darkness in front of him, above him, on him. Even the wall was too far to see, the moon too small to lend any light to the room. He stared harder, the darkness dancing and morphing into grotesque, nonsensical shapes as his eyes tried to convince him there was something worth seeing in the inky emptiness, but only silence greeted his ears.

Though he tried all the usual tricks—a rare fallback, given how few times he actually needed those tricks—nothing worked. Not counted and even breaths, not imagining threads of energy spiraling out through his toes, not even going so far as to label sheep with jumbo sharpies. He was awake, and it sucked, and Virgil seemed none too intent to join him tonight, and that sucked too.

Once he finally fell asleep, it was awful and restless, and he wasn’t entirely sure that all of his consciousness had actually clocked out for the night. It certainly didn’t seem that way, if his harried and broken dreams were any indication.

Funny, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d dreamed.

---------

“Just go get changed, chumaroo,” Roman groans, yanking Logan away from his distracted staring contest with how that lapel will rest just so atop his chest. “Running out of friendship names that start with ‘c’ here, my good cuh-dude.”

“You already broke the pattern. ‘Chumaroo’ begins with a digraph including ‘c,’ sure, but it doesn’t follow the alliteration of comrade and cohort.”

“But you didn’t deny our friendship status.”

Logan rolls his eyes and pulls the door shut between them, to get away from the conversation if nothing else.

It’s not a flattering uniform, to say the least, but that should really come as no surprise, what with the puffy legs, the weird seams drawing up to the navel, the puffy arms, the heavy console on the chest piece—it’s a whole mess, all of it. But Logan loves it to death.

He loves the oversized boots, the garish buckles strapping his feet in, the patches crawling up his biceps, the white fabric that would look more at home on a bed in an elderly care facility. He ghosts his gloved fingertips over his bare face, feeling the crinkle and flex of the fabric and imagining the helmet that’s not long off, soon to be the only thing protecting him from an uncaring universe of glory and marvel and awesome horrors, an ocean of stars sprawled out in front of him like so many galaxies just begging to be explored, all laid out for the taking, for his taking, if he only reaches a little further past possibility and into the infinite cosmos of—

Logan scowls, ripped out of his daydream for what’s not the first (and what certainly won’t be the last) time, courtesy of Roman. Well, courtesy of Roman’s phone.

“Better get that, don’t you think?” Logan groans softly when it rings a third time. “Or how about you just turn it off? You’re not supposed to have those on this close to the launchpad, anyway.”

“It’s just Patton. He wants to facetime, thinks this is the closest he’ll ever get to seeing a ‘real-life rocketship!’” Even through the door, Logan can almost hear Roman wrinkling his nose to mimic Patton’s voice. “His words, not mine, bee-tee dub dubs. Dubz with a ‘z.’ Think Gazebo’d be cool with me showing off the sitch?”

“You did not just say ‘sitch.’”

“Says who?”

“Says the guy stuck with a Kim Possible fan club reject as his closest friend.”

The closet door slams open, revealing Roman with wide eyes and a smile bigger than the sun. “Logan! You called me your bestie!”

“I did nothing of the sort.”

“You absolutely did, you absolute… Um, you—you absolute…” Roman’s voice trails off as his eyes sweep over Logan’s uniform. His mouth drops ever so slightly, his lips parting just enough for Logan to feel (and, unfortunately, smell) some morning breath drifting across his nose. “You—wow. I mean, if—if Virgil could see you now, he would just—wow.”

“Yeah,” Logan agrees at last, glancing himself over. “Wow.”

---------

The brief minutes between leaving Virgil and starting the car were some of the only silences Logan could find anymore. He got to wake up beside Virgil, he left on time, it seemed like Virgil was over his attitude from the night before, everything should’ve felt right. Well, as right as right could feel.

As he stepped out of the stairwell and strode from the lobby into the sun, Logan allowed himself a few deep breaths, feeling the warmth of the morning air wrap itself like a heavy coat around his shoulders. Beneath the reassuring atmosphere that circled his head, a fog of Virgil’s voice with nothing in particular to pick out nor focus on, Logan found his thoughts shaving away at the edges, spiraling down a drain until only peace and emptiness dared remain. And though he was empty, though he was exhausted, though he was completely and utterly spent in every way imaginable, there was something undeniably reassuring about that weight. Something undeniably reassuring about the world spinning on without a care for his situation. Something undeniably reassuring about knowing this sort of thing has happened before, and knowing this sort of thing would happen again, and knowing this sort of thing would find its place.

He started the car.

---------

“Hold up, hold up,” Roman stammers as Logan attempts to step out of the closet (literally speaking, not figuratively. He’s been out since before he knew there even was a closet). “Photo op, I can’t not show this to Virgil.”

“Please don’t do a photo op, I really don’t want to—and you’re doing a photo op. Cool. Very cool. I did not consent to this.”

“Just shut up and smile pretty-pretty.” Roman grins wickedly as he wields his phone, bouncing from a crouch to his toes and back down, now sprawled out on his side as he sings about getting the ‘perfect angle.’ Logan goes to cross his arms and ignore the whole shebang, but Roman shoos him back into a relaxed stance. “Come on, the camera loves you! You’re gorgeous, darlin’!”

“I feel like I’ve already told you today that you aren’t from Texas. Is this your way of saying you need another reminder? I would’ve thought once would be enough.”

“I’m allowed to say darlin.’ It’s not a crime to be cultured.”

“Oh, so that’s what we’re calling it now. Is it a crime to be getting on my last nerve?”

“Here, wait, I’m sending them to Virgil. Bet he screams. Bet he loves them. Bet he sings your undying praises.”

“Virgil is contractually obligated to love me. We have a certificate saying so and everything.”

“Bet you set it on fire the day you got it so he couldn’t try to return you for a better model.”

“Bet he locked it in a safe to guarantee you wouldn’t try to pull something like that for a one-off joke.”

“Fair play, but ouch. You really think I’d do that?”

“You’re the one that made the suggestion, bud—” Logan cuts himself off, suddenly all too aware of how close he’d come to calling Roman ‘buddy.’ At least he didn’t call him ‘bestie.’ That’s a mistake he’d never live down. “We need to go. They’re probably already near to two hours and counting.”

“That’s not an official time frame. Nervous?”

“I’m not nervous.”

Logan is very nervous.

It is very obvious.

---------

Logan was quickly growing tired of these nightly mood swings from Virgil. It was genuinely impressive, he thought, how adamant Virgil was about ignoring how hard a time Logan had with making it home early every night. Of course, Logan wasn’t allowed to bring up that sort of discussion, since it would inevitably lead to another argument about their difference in careers and lifestyles, and Logan honestly just did not feel like dealing with that.

So rather than wake up in a shroud of warmth beside his husband, Logan woke up alone on a mattress, frigid and stale with sweat. He picked up his clothes from the day before, abandoned on the floor with such carelessness that Logan half expected to see something hiding in the closet and snickering at the manufactured chaos. A tornado monster, perhaps. But no, no, it was only Logan’s demeanor last night that allowed the room to look like this.

For fear of the drawers and doors creaking loud enough to wake Virgil in the next room, Logan tugged on his dirty clothes, deeming them clean enough for a second go-around. As long as no one looked too closely or inhaled too deeply, that is. He smoothed out the wrinkles as he padded for the door, opening it as slowly as he could manage and wincing at every slight squeak of the hinges. There on the couch was Virgil, still asleep beneath Logan’s torn cardigan. Logan shuffled quietly past him, blowing Virgil an air kiss before exiting the apartment and locking the door behind him.

---------

Logan is very, very nervous. Every step he takes is off-balance, every breath he breathes is soaked in sweat, every move he makes is a mistake and he knows it and it is merely a fool’s errand to pretend otherwise.

“I—I don’t think I can do this, Roman,” Logan finally chokes out, his vision tunneling. “I know I can’t, actually, I mean, what was I even thinking? Just look at this outfit, it’s ridiculous, I can’t just—I can’t, Roman, I can’t and I couldn’t and I won’t and this was all a really, really bad idea.”

“Jeez, tell us how you really feel,” Roman mumbles. Logan blinks, struggling to see the elbow hovering in front of him. “Here, c’mon. I won’t make you hold my hand, but you’ll feel better. Something steady to ground you, no pun intended. Pun a little bit intended, actually, I changed my mind.”

Logan shakes his head, blinking faster faster faster and stepping slower slower slower, almost at a standstill by the time he thinks to fumble for Roman’s arm. “I don’t know, I don’t know, I mean, I’m not—”

“You do so know, Logan, you’ve known this since forever. You can, you will, and you are. This is absolutely everything you’ve ever wanted in your entire life, and quitting would be a disservice to yourself, not to mention me and Patton and Virgil. I mean, imagine telling him you chickened out. That’s practically grounds for divorce right there.”

Logan manages to force out a laugh through his haze at that, shaking his head just a little bit less now. “But what if something goes—”

“It won’t, I promise.” Logan’s hand finally finds purchase on Roman’s arm. It almost feels alien, so to speak, having his bulky glove separating them like this. “Logan, you should be enjoying this. I mean, hey, what if nothing goes wrong? What if it turns out amazing? What if it’s absolutely everything you’ve dreamed it would be and more? You should be enjoying this, Lo. Feel the ground under those god-awful boots, feel the wind—well, air-conditioning—blowing across your face, feel the planet spinning beneath you, and tell me you aren’t just a little bit excited to do this today.”

“I can’t tell you that,” Logan sighs, his lips curling ever so slightly despite himself.

“And why can’t you tell me that?”

“Because it’d be a lie. Because I’m excited beyond belief. Because, I mean, hell, Roman, I’m doing this.”

“I mean, hell, Logan, you’re doing this.” Logan’s smile widens, and without the fuzziness in his head, without the buzzing in his limbs, without the panic lancing through his veins, the moment would be almost perfect.

All it’s missing is Virgil.

Well, not entirely missing Virgil. After all, Logan still has his heart, and Virgil is the only one allowed in to touch that thing.

Logan’s smile would easily dwarf Neptune right about now.

---------

Once the adrenaline rush finally finished having its way with Logan’s veins, he rested his head against the back of the chair and ran over the presentation in his head. It didn’t go too poorly, relatively speaking. The director seemed happy enough with it, Roman didn’t have any corrections—genuine or otherwise—and even the director’s lackeys appeared pleased with what they saw. Logan fumbled a pass for his notecards and barely saved the few that leaped out of the stack and raced for the floor.

“What’re you doing now?” Roman asked, watching Logan flip through the stack and put it back in order.

“Seeing where I could improve for next time, fixing stupid spelling errors that would cost me my dignity if anyone saw them, that sort of thing.” As he said that second part, Logan took a pen to his current card and made a correction, underlining it twice. “Can never be too careful.”

“I really think you can, though.” Roman reached out a hand, palm up, but Logan ignored it. It took Roman wiggling his fingers, obnoxiously clearing his throat, and rapping his knuckles on the table to realize Logan would not be relinquishing the cards. So instead, Roman snatched them out of his hand.

“What—hey, I was using those!”

“And now you’re not. I mean, c’mon, you’re never going to give that presentation again. There’s no reason to. Why bother correcting the mistakes now?”

Logan stared at Roman, puzzled. “Ignoring the obvious answer that these might one day go up in a museum, it’s so I can improve myself for future presentations, of course.”

“But you already did awesome on this one.”

Logan inclined his chin, but didn’t bring it back down for a full nod. If he had less resolve, he might’ve even smiled. “So naturally, it should follow that I’ll have to do even more awesome on the next one.”

---------

Out the door and onto the tarmac, Logan is linked to Roman’s arm, focusing on keeping his feet on track so he doesn’t have to acknowledge the reality of everything happening around him. His other crew members trickling out, some of the techs milling around the craft, the enormity of the—

Yeah, that. Logan isn’t acknowledging any of that.

“Hey,” Roman murmurs, tugging his arm closer to his chest. Logan glances over to see him jutting his chin toward a very important person lingering near the entrance to the craft. That is, the director. The person who put him on this mission. “Wanna go talk to your best friend?”

“He isn’t my best friend.”

“Right, because I’m your best friend.”

“You are not.”

Roman grins and shakes his arm free, using it to give Logan a firm shove forward. “Go talk to him. Bet he’s got, like, major genius old guy wisdom to drop before you go.”

“I’m not going up there alone.”

“You don’t want to talk to the bossman one-on-one? Lame.” Roman gives Logan another good-natured shove before linking arms with him again, barreling for the director.

“One of my favorite astronauts!” the director exclaims as they draw near. His eyes barely skate over Roman’s face before recentering on the blatant fear in Logan’s. “Hello, Roman.”

“Hey, Z!” The enthusiasm in Roman’s voice is undeniably forced, but Logan elects not to comment on it. He also elects not to comment on the expression that flits over the director’s face at the nickname. “Y’allready to do this thing?”

“That’s not a real word,” Logan pipes up.

“Oh, sure it is. You all is y’all, y’all all ready, y’allready. I’m a wordsmith.”

“Better than a nerdsmith.” Logan bites his lip, uncertain whether the pun actually landed as well as it sounded in his head. Probably not. It didn’t even sound that good in his head, anyway.

The director hums an odd little noise in the back of his throat, but says nothing. Logan tries again.

“So, um, everything set to go? All the theoreticals still work out? We’re not going to, say, explode between the stitches in the fabric of space?”

“Everything works out. You are not going to, say, explode between the stitches in the fabric of space.”

“You actually said your fear out loud,” Roman stage whispers, bouncing on his toes. “Looks like you finally grew up, huh?”

“I don’t know what you mean.” Logan cocks his head to the side and glances past the director at the entrance to the rocket. Nice.

---------

Shocking though it may be, Logan was not fond of being left alone.

Well, no, that’s not entirely true. If it was on his own terms, he was more than happy to be left alone. He preferred it, in fact. In cases like this, however, he found it trivial and frustrating.

Virgil was out of sight of Logan’s position at the cafe table, presumably leaning up against the car and waiting for Logan come out so they could enjoy a silent and uncomfortable trip home. Roman and Patton were surely well beyond the parking lot, making a beeline for any location that wasn’t Logan and Virgil’s stewing argument. Only at a pause for now, but sure to implode on itself once reignited.

Logan lowered his head to the table, pressing his cheek to the surface and watching the lazy clouds drift by overhead. It sure would be nice to float alongside them someday.

---------

“Up and at ’em, then?” a new voice cuts in. Logan turns to see two more people walking up, both in the highest form of couture imaginable. That is, uniforms identical to his own. Eileen and Jackson, the other two thirds of Logan’s crew. The higher two thirds, technically, with Eileen as the operator and Jackson as the commander, given their training session positions and respective expertise. Or lack thereof, in Logan’s case. Eileen claps her hands together and grins. “Are we so excited?”

“We are so excited,” the second person—Jackson—says. He stretches his arms over his head and leans to the side with a yawn.

“How about all that training?” Roman breathes, glancing Jackson over. He sticks his hand out, a broad smile forming on his face when Jackson shakes it. “Hi, I’m Roman. It’s a pleasure. Logan’s told me next to nothing about you, because he’s a terrible best friend.”

“I’m not your best friend.”

“Aren’t you dating that Patton fellow?” the director cuts in, looking at the way Roman still hasn’t dropped his death grip on Jackson’s hand.

Roman wrinkles his nose and scowls, finally freeing Jackson to wave his hands as if to banish the notion. Just out of sight, Jackson winces and rubs at his wrist, flexing his fingers. “Ew, no. Patton’s been my other best friend since forever. We’re basically brothers. Don’t be gross, Gazebo.”

The director raises his hands in defense and shrugs, stepping back from the entrance. “Alright, no harm meant. We should be nearing around twenty and holding soon, so Roman, if you would kindly get out of Jackson’s way so I can do their final briefings?”

Roman steps back sheepishly, watching Jackson move closer—entirely too close for Logan’s comfort, by the way. Logan scoots to the left.

“Think we could do them from inside the craft?” Eileen pipes up, peeking over Jackson’s shoulder. “Full experience for the newbie, y’know?”

“You’ve only been into space once,” Jackson teases. “You’re basically a newbie, too.”

“Says the guy with two whole missions under his belt. Careful your head don’t get too big, or the helmet might not fit.”

“Just! Get in the craft.” The director pinches the bridge of his nose and looks skyward, sighing loudly. The crew scurries to comply, though Logan does hang back for a moment. He looks to Roman, who flashes a double thumbs-up.

“You’ve got this,” Roman says. “Your horizons have never been broader.”

“I’ve got this,” Logan echoes. He holds back from repeating the second half right in front of the man who criticized him for the very same thing. He’s totally got this.

Totally.

He steps over the threshold.

---------

Logan didn’t sleep after the talking-to from the director or the argument with Roman or the smashing of his treasured mug, but that’s nothing new. The only new development was how broken he felt without Virgil there to help him. Virgil, of course, was peacefully asleep in their bed, nothing so daring as a sound passing through the door. Whether this meant that Virgil was good at sleeping soundly or that Virgil wasn’t asleep either, Logan didn’t feel comfortable investigating. Though everything that happened in this apartment could be defined as his business—he did foot the bills, after all—he hardly thought he had the right to go barging in on Virgil. Most nights, it felt less like he lived in his apartment and more like Virgil was letting him crash nearby.

Well, not most nights. Very few nights, actually. Logan just tended to find the harsher nights standing out more recently, hammering down harder on his resolve with every passing day. As of late, it was taking more and more positive days, or even slightly-better-than-bad days, to drown out the ache of the hard ones. This day in particular would probably take ages to wear off completely, Logan could almost feel it. Still no sound came from the bedroom, so Logan shifted to his side and rested his head against the arm of the couch. Despite his best efforts, sleep continued to evade him. He sighed into the darkness, but his eyes would not close.

---------

Logan is panicking.

Logan is panicking very, very much.

Twenty minutes and counting, and he can feel his heart ricocheting around inside his chest. No amount of training could’ve prepared him for the real thing, not even when it literally hasn’t started yet.

“Hey, newbie,” Eileen says, leaning forward against her restraints and snapping her fingers to get Logan’s attention. The sound doesn’t carry quite right with the gloves on, but the idea is there. “It’s not as scary as you think it is. They’re probably closing the vent valves and starting the thermal conditioning right now, so no matter what, there’s nothing you can do to chicken out now.”

“I’m sure that’s very reassuring,” Jackson mutters. “Please note the sarcasm in my voice here. I’m trying to get the point across that that is not a helpful thing for you to say.”

“Why not? Literally anything newbie does now would be futile, so he might as well just accept his fate.”

“His fate? Eileen, you make it sound like he isn’t coming back.”

“Oh, he’s coming back. The only question is how many pieces he’ll return in.”

Logan does not particularly like where this conversation is going. “So what all have you heard about the wormhole? Beyond what we discussed in our training sessions, obviously.”

“Not too much.” Eileen flexes her fingers and shakes her hands, jostling Jackson in the process. “Most of what they hammered out was just the basics, I mean, the ground launch sequencer should figure out most of our trajectory, and the rest is just rocket science.”

“The basics,” Jackson reiterates.

“The basics.”

“The basics.” This conversation did not help Logan’s nerves in the slightest.

A voice crackles to life in the chamber—the director, probably on his way to the go/no-go launch poll. “Hey, crew. We’re at nine minutes and holding, and Katie-Lee is determining your final launch window now. Just go ahead and strap in, and I’ll reconvene with you shortly.”

“This is the fun part!” Jackson whisper-shouts, now bouncing in his seat. It’s quite a sight, to be perfectly frank, as the seats have them on their backs and facing the sky, so it looks less like a giddy bounciness and more like frantic headbanging at a rock and roll concert.

“The fun part?” For all the stars in the sky, Logan cannot keep the dread out of his voice. “What do we do for the fun part?”

“We wait.” Eileen and Jackson saying this in unison does nothing for Logan’s outlook. Maybe that’s just the price of achieving his dream—being scared shitless, right up until the moment it happens.

---------

“I mean, it was weird, right?” Logan was more talking aloud than actually asking, but he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t just a little relieved when Roman dignified him with a response.

“Pretty darn heckin’ stinkin’ weird.”

“One clarification would’ve sufficed. He really thinks he can pull off a mission like this? It wasn’t you two in cahoots making up a big goof to mess with me?”

“It was not us two in cahoots making up a big goof to mess with you. The director genuinely thinks he can get us—well, whoever ends up on the crew, at least—through a theoretical tunnel and to the farthest reaches of our solar system.”

“Do you believe he can do it?”

“I believe that, with the right crew, it can be done.”

“And who might the right crew consist of?”

“Well, you, obviously. And you’d need me as your right hand man if you want it to go off smoothly.”

Logan snorted as he pulled his bag over his shoulder. “Yeah, you go ahead and keep believing that.”

---------

“So,” Logan says, his voice cracking, “how did you two get tagged for this?”

“My second mission was her first,” Jackson says with a head tilt toward Eileen. “We dealt with a crap ton of malfunctions—super ridiculous, actually, how much went wrong. I mean, you’d think Eileen was bad luck or something.”

“Or you’d think I was a stellar performer under pressure and that I saved the entire mission,” Eileen retorts. “Anyway, we did so well that it must’ve crossed Gazebo’s radar, because I’m pretty sure our director—we’re based in Texas, by the way, all ‘Houston, we have a problem,’ hah. But no, yeah, so our director was all, ‘oh, you should go do this major mission Kennedy’s setting up.’ Groundbreaking, new knowledge, expanding the possibilities of the human race, all those good buzzwords, you know the drill.”

“Not really.” Logan faces forward, struck by how odd it is that facing forward in his current position is the same as facing up normally. Would it still count as facing forward, or should he say he’s looking upward? Although his neck isn’t craned at all, and he’s not tilting his head, so it’s not as if—

“Hello? Earth to Logan?”

“Yes! Um, yes, sorry, what was the question?”

Jackson laughs under his breath as Eileen smiles sympathetically. “I was just returning the favor. How did you get tagged for this one, first timer?”

“I, um, I don’t know if you saw the guy I was standing out with outside—the one antagonizing the director, I mean. Anyway, the director—er, our director, I guess, Director Gazebo, since you two have a different one—he’s the one spearheading this mission, and he wanted the both of us going in on it, good marks and track records and all, and, um, yeah. That’s it. Just kind of got roped into it. Lifelong dream, that sort of thing.”

“Why didn’t Roman come along, then?”

Logan carefully files away the fact that Jackson remembered his name before answering, as that’s undoubtedly information Roman would be thrilled to have. “Too many ties down here. Too many people would miss him, too many people scared he wouldn’t make it back, that sort of thing.”

“Yeah, but everyone’s got ties, though.” Eileen leans forward—or upward, depending on your perspective—to lock eyes with Logan. “What about you? Surely you’ve got someone down here that would miss you, too, god forbid anything goes wrong?”

Logan nods, running his thumb over the fabric of the glove encasing where his wedding band normally is—now it hangs from a necklace, thanks to the gloves being pressurized. “Yeah. Yeah, um, yes, I’ve got someone down here. A few someones, actually, but yeah, I do. Have someone, I mean. He, um, he means a lot to me. A whole lot.”

“Then you know what you’ve gotta do, yeah?” Jackson’s voice is oddly gentle, given how enthusiastic he’s been so far. Logan turns to face him, curiosity in his eyes. “You’ve gotta make it back safe and sound, and when you do, you’ve gotta give him the most bone-crushing hug he’s ever felt. Hug the crap out of him, hug him ’til he pops, then hug him harder, because I can personally guarantee that’s all he’s gonna wanna do.”

Logan smiles, the ghost of Virgil’s touch an echoed memory across his skin. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

---------

Logan nodded his gratitude and accepted the steaming mug from Virgil. He turned his attention toward the television screen, where the opening credits of the movie were rolling.

“What’re we watching, Mr. Mission Man?” Virgil elbowed Logan in the side—several times, so it definitely wasn’t an accident—as he settled himself on the couch. Logan nudged him back.

“I’m not an official mission man yet, and we’re watching Coco.”

“Acceptable enough.” As the opening scene began, and as the plot picked up in earnest, Virgil slowly shifted closer, fitting himself against the curve of Logan’s side and nestling his head into the crook of Logan’s neck. Logan tilted his own head to the side, resting his temple against Virgil’s hair.

“Bet you can’t play guitar like that,” Logan mumbled.

“Probably not.”

“You don’t want to prove me wrong?”

“No, I just want to sit here and not do anything for the night.”

“No work, no play, no nothing?”

“No work, no play, no nothing.”

Logan exhaled, letting his arm drape heavy across Virgil’s shoulders. “I like the sound of that.”

---------

“Gazebo again,” announces the voice over the coms. Logan wonders whether they’d all get electrocuted if they crash landed in the ocean with the radios on and transmitting. “We’re just about ready to start up the automatic ground launch sequencer. Everything good on your end? Over.”

“Good to go-o, over,” Eileen singsongs. Logan clasps his hands in his lap, squeezing his laced fingers together to keep from pulling at the restraints. Are they supposed to be this restrictive?

“Glad to hear it. Nine minutes and counting, folks!” The director’s voice fades on the second half of his sentence, as if he were making the announcement to a close-out crew and not the on-board crew. Which he probably is.

“You good over there, Sanders?”

Logan grips his hands even tighter at the sudden sound of Jackson’s voice. “Yeah, I—I’m good. Super excited. We are so excited.”

“Are we? Y’sure about that? You look a little green, and I don’t think I’ve ever heard you use the royal ‘we’ before.”

“No, it’s just—you know what? I think I forgot some papers and contracts inside. Maybe I could just go grab them real quick, be back in a—”

“Not exactly part of the formula,” Eileen cuts in. “I know you’re nervous, and don’t try to pretend like you aren’t, because we can all see your face, but it’s going to be fine. In all the major training sessions we had together—”

“All two of them,” Jackson clarifies.

Eileen purses her lips at him before continuing. “In all two of the major training sessions we had together at the main base, you held your cool like I’ve never seen. I was a total mess on my first mission, and you literally look like an ice cube compared to that. Stop overthinking it and just let yourself be excited.”

“Why does everyone keep saying I overthink things?” Logan mumbles. He shakes his head, partially to get rid of the nerves and partially to remind himself that this is actually happening, and flashes a smile at Eileen. “That didn’t help very much, but thanks anyway.”

“Sure deal,” Eileen replies. “And if this isn’t the first time you’ve been told you overthink things, then you definitely overthink things.”

“Definitely?” Logan asks, only slightly wounded.

“Definitely.”

---------

“Who is he to say I’m always working?” Logan demanded of the deaf night sky. His fists were rapidly balling and relaxing at his sides, his fingernails digging into his palms hard enough that he could almost feel his pulse jumping. “At least I’m doing something! I could hardly call the art thing a career, and even if I did, it’s not like he’s building on it! It’s patently absurd that he would dare say I’m in the wrong for trying to make a successful living! The least he could do is show some damn respect and understanding for how much I do! I put a roof over our heads, I got us a car, I keep us fed and warm and safe and he has the nerve to throw that back in my face? It’s ridiculous!”

Logan cursed under his breath as his foot caught on a loose chunk of pavement, his feet skidding out from under him. He stumbled to recover and nearly tripped over himself in the process. Another curse slipped out.

“I can’t believe he gets to get mad all the time, that he gets to be the one throwing a tantrum all the time like an insolent little child, and the one time I decide I want to feel something more than shallow irritation or genuine love, god forbid I say as much to his face, but oh, no, can’t do that! Can’t go upsetting Virgil! Can’t go letting him find out I’m actually a flawed human who’s actively working on his faults, because that sort of person doesn’t exist! Whatever. I don’t even care. I don’t even care!”

Logan’s rants dissolved into heated grumbles as he picked up his pace, from an agitated lope to a near-sprint as he continued on, farther and farther away from Virgil, farther and farther away from everything. He cursed again.

---------

The seconds pass by slower and faster and not at all, all at once. Logan isn’t entirely certain time is even following a linear path anymore. He closes his eyes and lets Eileen and Jackson’s chatter fill his ears, nonsense words about mundane daily tasks that would sound more at home in a coffee shop than in a multimillion dollar rocketship.

“So where’d you go to college?” The question floats into Logan’s head, and though he isn’t entirely certain whether he actually heard it or just made it up, he decides there’s no harm in answering.

“MIT.”

“A Massachusetts kid?” Jackson asks, at the same moment that Eileen exclaims, “He speaks!”

“A speaking Massachusetts kid,” Logan confirms, allowing himself a half smile at the memories of that place. Too many long nights to count, an obscene amount of papers and cups of coffee and dried pens and stubby pencils and smudged ink. The best years of his life, excluding what precious little he’s spent with Virgil. What precious little he’s spent with Virgil that didn’t include arguments, at least. Few things can send his heart skipping like acing a difficult exam or being at the top of his class, but the rare good days with Virgil certainly make that list. They top that list, actually. Logan’s smile grows.

“I think we lost him,” Eileen stage whispers. Logan shakes his head again.

“I’m still here.”

“Oh, good, I thought we’d be manning a three person mission with two people.” Eileen tosses her head back and laughs at her own joke—if it can be called a joke. Logan isn’t sure.

“I could cover him if I had to,” Jackson says.

“And how d’you figure that?”

“I’m twice the man you’ll ever be.”

“I mean, biologically speaking, yeah, but two times zero is still zero.”

Jackson gives his own cackle before slugging Eileen on the arm, and Logan wonders just how many minor training sessions they had together before joining him at the major two. Or, no, didn’t Eileen mention that her first (and only) mission so far was Jackson’s second? That would certainly allow for more major training sessions. Or is Logan making that up? He shrugs in answer to the question he didn’t vocalize and finds himself jolting just a little bit less when the director’s voice returns to announce the retraction of the orbiter access arm. Seven minutes to go.

---------

After all the shenanigans involved in convincing Virgil to look into colleges, even with the most cursory of glances, Logan was ready to fall asleep the moment his head hit the pillow. It might’ve happened, too, were it not for the soft light illuminating the ceiling that was usually supposed to be dark at this hour.

“What’re you doing?” Logan mumbled, turning under the blankets to face Virgil. Rather than being asleep, or at least on his way there (which would be the correct manner of existing this late at night), Virgil’s head was propped up against four mismatched pillows, his face lit eerily by the light of his phone.

Virgil slammed his phone down on the blankets at the sound of Logan’s voice, snuffing out the light and descending the room into darkness. “Nothing!”

“Sounds like a lie.” Try as he might, Logan couldn’t get his voice to go any louder, too heavy with exhaustion and bleariness. He curved his spine inward, resting his head against Virgil’s shoulder. “What’re you actually doing?”

Virgil sighed and tilted his head to lean atop Logan’s before raising his phone again. “I was looking at colleges.”

“Why would you lie about that? That’s a wonderful thing to be doing!”

“Because I knew you’d react like—well, like this.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that you got all excited over just the idea of me looking at colleges. I didn’t want to get your hopes up. It’s basically just aimless googling, anyway, so it’s not like it’s even worth getting excited over.”

Logan tossed a heavy arm across Virgil’s stomach, making a weak attempt to pull him closer as he buried his head in Virgil’s side. “Everything you do to improve yourself is worth getting excited over.”

“Okay, now you’re just being a cheesy little dork.”

“But I’m your cheesy little dork.”

“That you are,” Virgil relented, leaning over to press a soft kiss to Logan’s forehead.

---------

At the same moment that the director’s voice announces the start of the auxiliary power units, Logan feels his mind drifting toward images of the horizon. Surrounded by words of confirmation and idle conversation, Logan closes his eyes and pictures the skyline, pink sunsets, orange flares, pillowy clouds drifting across an ocean of pale purple.

Though the director isn’t here to notice, and he certainly wouldn’t be able to read Logan’s mind if he were, Logan realizes he has a question he might like to pose to the dir—to Gazebo. He’s undoubtedly earned the right to be so informal by now.

How’s this for broadening my horizons?

And, despite himself, despite his mercifully waning fears—or maybe because of them—Logan laughs.

---------

Logan hunched over his usual computer, seeing it from a whole new perspective with every click, every keystroke, every breath. Form after form, contract after contract, case after case, he toiled away. If he were in a more fatalistic mood, he might liken it to literally signing away his life. Of course, he was too excited by the prospect of this mission to be thinking like that. Well, too excited to be actively thinking like that. The concern certainly lingered somewhere in the darker corners of his mind.

“Whatcha got going on there?” Roman asked, peering over the partition and drumming his fingers along the top.

Logan sent off another disclosure to the director’s given list of carbon copies before turning to face Roman. “Taking a risk or two. Nothing major, just the biggest achievement of my entire life.”

“Are you really still stuck on that lecture from Gaze-ze?”

“Please don’t call him that, and yes. He gave me areas to improve, and I’m improving them.”

“I already told you, he was exaggerating to get you to work harder. It was a garbage trick from a garbage man—well, trash man, not garbage man, since he’s a literal rocket scientist, but that’s beside the point. You shouldn’t be so focused on proving him wrong. He already personally tagged you for this mission, so there’s not a whole lot of room to grow here.”

“If there’s no more room to grow, then I guess I’ll just have to break through the ceiling. And don’t call the director a trash man, either.”

“I will call anyone a trash man if they are a trash man. Heck, I’m a trash man. At least I own up to it.”

Logan spun back to his screen and hammered out another couple files, his legs bouncing frantically with every second the sending delayed. On to a new contract. “Keep your trash to yourself, if you would be so kind.”

“I will put my trash wherever I see fit.”

“Good for you. Just keep it out of my stuff.”

“You know, you’re kind of a trash man, too.”

“A trash man who’s finally getting somewhere in his career.”

“Whatever blarts your mall cops, trash man.”

---------

“Aerosurface profile test complete, now beginning the main engine gimbal profile,” Gazebo’s voice announces. “Sixty seconds to beanie cap. Over.”

“Less than four minutes,” Logan murmurs, more of a confirmation for himself than an announcement for the rest of the crew, but the other two don’t chide him for it. Rather, they both share a look and nod as Logan’s eyes drift down to his left hand. Still encased in that glove, but he almost thinks he can see the outline of the band underneath. He definitely can’t, of course—the ring is around his neck on a chain—but he fancies the idea regardless. He twines his fingers together, slowly shifting them to wrap around his ring finger, running his thumb over the fabric protecting his fingertip. He breathes long and slow, in and out, an inhale pulling back his thumb, an exhale pushing it forward, his final frayed nerves stitching themselves back into one piece and sealing themselves to the memory of that thin metal band.

What a promise to make, as a mere man walking the surface of a spinning rock, floating in the middle of nowhere. I’ll bring you the moon. The moon. The thing that keeps the tides in check, circling the world, lighting cold nights with the reflection of the sun, and Logan had the gall to promise to bring it to Virgil. Logan has the gall to make that promise. He has the gall to believe he’ll do it, too. He has the gall to know he’ll do it.

He has the gall to try.

---------

“When did this get so hard?” Logan whispered, still gazing at their loosely intertwined fingers on the cafe table. “When did we get so bad at being in love? So bad at being humans? When did we get so bad at all this?”

“I don’t think we’re all that bad,” Virgil murmured. He ran his thumb gently along the side of Logan’s palm, keeping his eyes down, his voice soft. “I think we’re just going through the motions of a relationship. I don’t know if there is, or ever was, any real love between us, so much as it was that we were two lonely people in the same lonely world, and being lonely together was better than being lonely alone. I don’t think we hate each other, but I don’t think we really love each other, either. I don’t think we know how.”

“But I want to know how,” Logan insisted, desperate, pleading. He felt like a child throwing a tantrum. “I don’t want us going down in our own history books as a mistake. I want this to work, I want us to work. Is it really so hard to believe that we could do it if we tried?”

“Believing is the hard part.” Finally, finally, Virgil lifted his eyes, and though he didn’t want to see, didn’t think he could handle seeing, Logan couldn’t miss the puddles welling there. “But just because we’ve kind of been faking it until we made it, that doesn’t mean we have to keep doing that.”

“I want to try. I want this to work, without all the fighting and the arguing and the secrets.”

Virgil pulled Logan’s hand closer, now well past the halfway point of the table. Now making Logan meet him all the way. “I want this to work, too. I’m just tired of pretending we’re both happy to pretend.”

Logan lowered his head, tracing his gaze over the matching bands looped around their fingers. He wanted to promise him the moon, he wanted to promise him his heart, he wanted to promise him everything, but he hadn’t the words for any of it, so he just held his hand in silence.

---------

Savoring his last few moments of genuine exposed air, Logan swallows several deep gulps before moving to comply with the latest update from Gazebo—closing and locking their visors. Two minutes and counting. Logan glances out the window, half expecting to see the sun winking out with a morse code message from Virgil not to do it.

“Good to go?” Jackson asks.

“Good to go,” Eileen confirms. They both look to Logan.

He nods, finally certain, finally confident, finally ready. “Good to go.”

In unison, the crew snaps their visors down. Just over a minute to liftoff.

---------

Even after sending the final confirmation for the mission, Logan didn’t dare move beyond dropping the phone to the mattress. Neither did Virgil, who only adjusted ever so slightly to wrap his arms around Logan. Logan kept his focus steady on the folds of the blankets pushing at their feet, waiting for the world to stop spinning.

He’s really doing this.

He really just accepted a mission into space.

And Virgil really just gave him his final blessing on it.

How could Logan possibly survive being apart from Virgil for that long?

“I’m gonna miss you,” Logan mumbled, eschewing all pretense of caring about proper grammar. “I’m gonna miss you like you wouldn’t believe.”

“I’m gonna miss you, too,” Virgil sighed. He tightened his arms around Logan, the only thing Logan could say for absolute certain was happening anymore. Nothing felt quite real in that moment. “But you’re gonna go up there, and you’re gonna do so many great things. You’re going to amaze everyone, and you’re going to be amazing when you do it. You just focus on what you can do, and I’ll focus on waiting for you to come home safe. That’s all we can do here.”

“But I’m gonna miss you,” Logan insisted, feeling very much like an overworn record. “I don’t want to say goodbye.”

“Well, then it’s a good thing we won’t be saying that, isn’t it?”

“How so?”

“I mean, obviously we’ll see each other when you get back safe and sound, so there’s no reason to say goodbye. ‘Goodbye’ implies you won’t be coming back, but you will. We don’t have to say goodbye, so you don’t have to worry about it.”

“I’m still going to worry about you, though.”

“You aren’t allowed to do that, either. You just need to focus on yourself. Don’t let me distract you.”

“I would hardly call you a distraction. You’re more like the driving force that’s kept me on my feet long enough to get this far.”

“So I’m a really, really good distraction, then.”

“One that lo-oves me?” Logan managed to force some joviality into his voice, singing the word as he tilted his chin up to gaze at Virgil. Virgil rolled his eyes, but a smile crawled onto his face regardless.

“Yes. A really, really good distraction that lo-oves you. Nerd.”

“I love you, too.”

Virgil blew a puff of air through his nose and shook his head, still smiling. He held Logan closer.

---------

“T minus 60 seconds. 56. 53. 48. 43. 35. 32. 26. 21. 18. 14. 10. 9. 8. 7. 6. (Ignition sequence start.) 5. 4. 3. 2. 1. Ignition. We have liftoff, Kennedy, we have liftoff on Oh-Nine-X-S-T.”

And just like that, they’re in the air. And they’re sprinting through the sky. And they’re in the troposphere. And they’re in the stratosphere, the mesosphere, the thermosphere, the exosphere, and they’re out of the atmosphere entirely and hurtling toward the stars and Logan can almost feel the distance between him and Virgil stretching and thinning, a long cable that’s ready to snap, a frayed thread that’s only just strong enough to remind Logan that Virgil is there, that there’s someone down way, way below him, waiting for him to come back safe and sound. And then there’s an odd weightlessness as the final stage breaks off, giving the rocket its final push out into space. And then into the stars. And then Logan is looking out the window, and he’s there. Among the stars. What he’s worked all his life to see, right there at his gloved fingertips. Logan can scarcely breathe.

“It’s amazing,” he finally says in a soft exhale.

“See what I mean?” Jackson murmurs, and Logan feels his shift to nudge Eileen. “Gotta love watching newbies.”

“Gotta love watching newbies,” Eileen agrees.

“It’s amazing,” Logan repeats, numb. He can’t think of anything else, nothing more manages to push past the tip of his awestruck tongue. No other words will come. So he says it again. And again.

“You’re on a solid trajectory for the moon,” the director’s voice informs them, a little less clear than it was before. A little cracked, a little broken, a little staticky, but it’s there. A real, live human on the real, live planet behind them, actually talking to Logan right at this very second as he’s in literal space. “Engage operations for the wormhole jump to Neptune. Over.”

“Altitude is on the line,” Eileen says, her voice switching from delighted amusement to no-nonsense business.

Jackson nods and reaches to adjust a different lever. “Velocity is right on the line.”

“Activating primary parting thrusters,” Eileen confirms. “Secondary action required, Jackson following. Over.”

“Secondary thrusters activated, temperature range optimal and confirmed,” Jackson says. “Tertiary opening sequence to be engaged, actions falling to Logan. Over.”

The clarity in their voices is enough to drag Logan out of his reverie and into laser-focused mode, as familiar an emotion as when a professor passed out an exam. He melts into the old attitude immediately, wearing it like an old jacket from the back of his closet. “Tertiary opening sequence engaged,” he says, flipping the correct knobs and levers. “Now opening rift five hundred meters forward. Tear stabilization required. Over.”

“You’re all good from down here,” the director replies. “Activate the tear stabilizer and head on through. I’ll patch back once you reach Neptune. Over.”

“Stabilizing tear at a distance of four hundred meters,” Eileen says, not impeded in the slightest by the director’s words. “Tear stabilized. Over.”

“Onward to Neptune,” Jackson says. Logan can almost hear the smile in his voice, even as his own eyes are focused on the console. “Over.”

“Onward to Neptune,” Eileen confirms. “Over.”

“Onward to Neptune.” Even with all his training and (admittedly abstract) experience, Logan cannot keep the awe out of his voice. “Over.”

And then they’re hurtling forward, careening for a rip in the literal fabric of space, protected by only a glorified chunk of titanium and carbon composite, and then they’re two hundred meters away, one hundred, ninety, seventy, fifty, twenty-five, ten, nine, eight, sevensixfivefourthreetwoone—

There’s a sharp jolt to the craft. Logan winces as his head wrenches to the left, his helmet slamming against the side of Jackson’s. He bites down hard enough that he thinks he might sever his own tongue, forcing down a cry as Eileen launches into reactionary recovery mode.

“This is Operator Eileen to command, our tear jump failed and our craft seems to have taken an exterior hit. Over.”

Silence.

“This is Operator Eileen to command, craft carrying Logan and Commander Jackson, our tear jump failed and our craft took an exterior hit. Over.”

Silence.

Her voice is growing more frantic now as she starts flicking switches. They’re well past what should’ve been the entry point to the wormhole by now. “This is Operator Eileen to command, do you read me? We passed the opening and our speed is not reducing, how’s it looking on your end?”

Silence.

“Eileen to command, we are rightly fucked out here, do you copy?”

“Over,” Jackson adds. That Eileen would miss quite so many basic details does not escape Logan’s notice. He feels his head start aching where it collided with Jackson’s, but he doesn’t have time to moan at the pain as the rocket lurches again.

This time, a curse escapes Logan’s mouth at the same instant that the craft bangs to a sharp halt, throwing Logan forward in his seat. He’s pretty sure he has whiplash to some degree now, but he doesn’t pause to confirm this as the rocket rips forward once more. It slams his head into the back of his seat, the rest of his body restrained by the harnesses and helpless to hold his neck steady.

“Eileen to command, do you read me? Over.”

“Jackson to command, do you read me? Over.”

Logan shakes his head, trying to ignore the blinding pain as he tosses his own voice into the chorus. “Logan to command, do you do me read? Over.” His head hurts so, so much.

Still silence from the other end. Silence, silence, silence. Absolutely nothing.

“I’m trying another opening,” Eileen says, punching at far too many switches for Logan to follow. He flicks two knobs on his end, careful to keep in precise time with Eileen’s verbal commands as his fingers do what his mind is too harried to make sense of. Just one click, then another, and another, one thing at a time, one thing for his dwindling focus to latch onto. His head hurts. He shoves the pain down.

“Have we got it?” Jackson asks, doing his own sequence with far more calm than is in his tone. “Eileen, tell me we’ve got it.”

“We’ve almost got it,” Eileen says. She doesn’t stop her determined pace, tapping away with all the ease and calm of a court stenographer. “Logan, sequence three A. Ready?”

“Ready.”

“Hold. Hold. Hold. And—okay, now!”

In the same instant, Logan throws the switch, pushing the full force of his body into it, feeling the harness digging into his chest as he punches the button beyond the track. “Got it.”

“Jackson, we’ve got it.” Eileen allows herself the briefest of moments to inhale, then it’s back into motion, almost like an intermission for her mind. Logan’s vision blurs at the edges as the rocket recoils against itself, shuddering as if it’s dropped a thruster. Maybe it has. He sucks in a sharp breath and shakes his head, immediately regretting the ache it brings on. Eileen blows out three sharp puffs of air. “Five hundred meters out. Four hundred. Jackson, I swear to God, if that damn switch doesn’t hit at exactly—”

“I’ve got it,” Jackson says sharply, his glove clenched tightly around a lever. “Logan, good to make the jump?”

“As good as I can be.” Logan keeps his voice low, his words clipped, fearful that anything too extended might literally split his skull down the middle.

“Two hundred meters. One hundred. Logan, hand on the switch?”

“Hand on the switch,” Logan confirms. He shifts his twitchy fingers to grip it tighter.

“Fifty meters.”

“Opening still stable?”

Even with her face shielded by the visor, Logan almost thinks he can see Eileen’s expression turning grim. “As stable as a theoretical tunnel can be.”

“That’s about as good as we can hope for.”

“Ten meters.”

Logan inhales tightly and calls up Virgil’s face in his mind.

“Nine meters.”

Virgil’s messy purple and brown hair.

“Eight meters.”

Virgil’s soft brown eyes, crinkled in laughter.

“Seven meters.”

Virgil’s mouth, open with a laugh at his own sarcastic remark.

“Six meters.”

Virgil’s body, curled up around Logan’s on a cold, dark morning.

“Five meters.”

Virgil’s voice, low and happy under the haze of coffee.

“Four meters.”

Virgil’s cardigans, draped around Logan like a sea of soft familiarity.

“Three meters.”

Virgil’s passions, always so stubborn and so unpredictable.

“Two meters.”

Virgil’s promises, never broken for fear of hurting Logan in the process.

“One meter. Hold onto anything that doesn’t move.”

Virgil.

The rocket jolts sharply, up, down, to the right, sending Logan smacking into Jackson before recoiling and colliding with the wall and whacking against the central control panel like loose leaves in the wind. His vision goes black for a second, two, and even without Eileen shouting orders, even without Jackson calling back steely confirmation, he can feel it, down to his very core, down to the bones crunching under his own skin.

Something is wrong.

Something is very, very wrong.

Through the blur of blackness and brightly flickering switches, Logan manages to bring his gaze to the window, through which he sees stars, so many stars, spinning around him in a dizzying waltz, borne of the flames in hell. He closes his eyes as the blackness grows thicker.

Eileen yells something as the rocket banks a hard left, ramming Logan shoulder-first into the window. He cries out before breaking off into a harsh whimper as Jackson knocks skulls with him, hard enough that he thinks (not for the first time) that he might actually genuinely literally bite off his own tongue. Logan swallows a hard, shallow breath through gritted teeth as he waits for Jackson to right himself, but Jackson doesn’t move. He’s a dead weight on Logan’s side.

“Jackson’s not moving,” Logan whispers, more of a realization than an announcement. Eileen doesn’t respond. “Jackson’s not moving!” he repeats, louder, more insistent, a plea for Eileen not to have gone quiet, too.

Eileen curses under her breath. “Shit. Okay, shit, okay, shit shit shit, this is bad, this is really fucking bad.” She glances at Logan, perhaps realizing that she shouldn’t be acting so panicked in front of a first timer. And, Logan thinks darkly, maybe a last timer. He pushes the thought away. Eileen curses softer this time. “Okay, shit, just try not to move him too much. There’s no way this thing’ll survive another tear go-around, the math on the opening must’ve been off, your director must’ve—whatever, it doesn’t matter. Are you good enough to help me turn this thing around?”

“As good as I can be.” Logan forces back a howl of pain as the craft snaps forward again, and he can feel his head straining to give in, to follow Jackson down into the blackness. He growls low and hard under his breath before sitting up straighter, groaning with the pain. “Which way are we turning?”

Just as he asks, the rocket jolts again, banking another sharp left. Logan’s head smacks into the wall, but he hardly feels it anymore. Just another ache to add to the list. He can’t think about that right now.

“Left work for you?” Eileen’s voice is as calm and steady as ever, and Logan has no idea how she manages it.

“Left works great.” He grits his teeth and reaches forward, feeling his right arm scream in pain. Probably broken. Nothing to be done for it now.

“Re-engaging main thrusters,” Eileen announces flatly. “Left thrusters gone. Great, that’s just great. Doubling pressure in right thrusters. Hold on tight for an accelerated spin, because I’m not doing this twice.”

“Fuel levels descending as normal,” Logan says, watching the bars drop at double the normal rate in time with the fuel usage. “Anything else I need to do on my end?”

Eileen leans forward past Jackson and, through her visor, stares Logan down with the heat of a thousand suns. “Pray like hell.”

Logan nods once, and even that alone is enough to send shock waves rippling through his skull. He inhales sharply to keep from crying out again as Eileen carries on with her stated actions, despite the messages obviously not going through to command anymore. And, calling up Virgil’s face in his mind once more, Logan closes his eyes. And he prays like hell.

“Full one-eighty achieved,” Eileen calls. “Heat on missing left thruster increasing. Evening out propulsion rates.”

“Levels not equalizing. Left thruster cavity surpassing advisable temperature,” Logan says, opening his eyes for only a split second to confirm this. “God, I hope this works.”

“You and me both,” Eileen mutters.

In the fraction of a moment after checking the levels again and before closing his eyes, Logan catches himself glancing out the window. Off in the distance, almost too foreign to recognize up close, the moon watches them tear past, hurtling for the planet that just spat them out. The whole of existence sprawls out away from them, appearing to almost vibrate with the intensity of the rocket’s shaking now. Logan shuts his eyes once more, the silhouette of the glowing moon imprinted on his eyelids like a halo behind the picture of Virgil that he refuses to drop from his mind’s eye.

Eileen yells again. Logan’s eyes fly open to see several of the switches going haywire, flicking around of their own accord and glowing like their lives depend on it.

There’s a loud bang, louder than anything Logan’s ever heard before, at the same instant that the rocket makes its hardest jolt yet. Then there’s heat, rising and rising and rising and boiling and boiling and burning and Logan almost can’t breathe as he swears he can feel his lungs melting and—

And then there’s cold. Stark, uncaring, suffocating, vast, endless cold. Freezing Logan to his very core. And after the heat, and after the cold, and after the stars and the planets and the moon have all faded away, there is Logan, and Logan is still clinging to the image of Virgil. And the stars glow brighter, and the earth grows bigger, and the sun burns hotter, and Logan looks out at the world pulling them apart, and he

#labhwrites #mine #i'll bring you the moon #ibytm #major character death #this is the last chapter i am DONE #four months later #because i never start these things on time :T