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#but it has taken a life of its own
lostinfic · 8 months
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Chapter 6/8: Family Reunion
Pairing: Cesare x Lucrezia Borgia
Rating: E
May 1944 In her most desperate hours, Lucrezia seeks refuge in memories of the beach in Santa Marinella, where Cesare used to take her. She plays them like a movie in her mind. She sits in a slice of sunshine on the bed and closes her eyes. The red velvet curtains part, the projector reels and on the screen of her eyelids, Cesare’s smile appears. His smile always seemed brighter, unburdened, on those days they left Rome and their worries behind. In the next scene, she sees herself, younger, holding down her straw hat as she looks out the open train window. Her chest would swell with a feeling of freedom. She imagines that’s how it will feel when she gets out of here. Today, she’s too impatient to review the details of those beach trips, and skips straight to a slow motion scene of Cesare coming out of the water, his strong body glistening wet. Oh, how her breath would catch in her throat at the sight of him. And then how blessedly cool his skin would feel against her sun-heated one...
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tabrisofmars · 1 year
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*Enid is sitting at a table with Polly drawing pictures with crayons*
Divina: You’re going to be mad. And I totally get why.  But I’d like you to promise not to kill us. Or have Wednesday do it either. 
Enid: What did you do?
Yoko: It started as a joke but Divina dared me to do it
Enid, standing up: What did you do?
Divina: We were going to show you later and have a good laugh about it
Enid, claws out: WHAT DID YOU DO?
Yoko: We entered you and Polly in a cutest mother and daughter contest
Enid, left eye twitching: Oh no you didn’t
Divina: Yeah.. you won too. Like ten grand
Enid, very softly: Oh no we didn’t
Yoko: Totes did. Your mom found out though
Enid, sputtering: Oh no SHE DIDN’T
Divina: She posted online she was going to visit her ‘grandbaby’ today
Enid shaking like a leaf: OH NO SHE ISN’T
*Enid passes out*
Yoko: Is she alright?
Polly looking down at Enid: Oh no she isn’t
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curioscurio · 8 months
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Reading some more books about autism ! I don't quite know if I'm on the spectrum (a lot of tests seem to lean towards yes) but still! A lot of them make the very lonely person inside me feel seen and understood a little more than before :]
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hearts4juzi · 4 months
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I love how i have pointless headcanons about gregorys transness because his whole ggy era got twisted around to me thinking about how hes trans and how that might connect with his time glitchtrapped especially since he was referred to with fem terms (in other languages but shhhhh let me have this) and how his recovery period of taking back his life could include reclaiming his gender and hitting that "tboy enough to fuck with gender without being scared of being misgendered" type thing and thats why i find any headcanons of him wearing skirts/makeup/nailpolish or other traditionally feminine things so so so special
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goforth-ladymidnight · 4 months
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A Second Chance
Ch. 6
Pairing: Tamlin x Lucien
Word Count: 5.2k
Summary: Fluff and stuff
Read on AO3 or keep reading below:
“So… what happens now?”
“Whatever you want.”
Tamlin dropped his gaze to look at Lucien’s hand still resting in his hand, at the subtle differences in color in their skintones. Tamlin’s hand was the sort of tan you get from being outside too long, while Lucien’s seemed to have the glow of the sun within it. It was as warm and soft as a spring day after a long winter.
“What are you thinking about?”
Tamlin felt himself blush. “My hand. Your hand,” he said softly. It was all he could think to say.
“Is it okay if I say I was thinking about your mouth?”
His blood caught fire. As he looked up and into Lucien’s warm brown eyes, he managed a nod.
Lucien smiled. “Is it okay if I kiss you?”
He managed to nod again.
Lucien chuckled as he leaned in. “Come here.”
As Lucien’s fingers slid through the sensitive hairs at the back of Tamlin’s neck, and as his lips softly melded to his own, Tamlin discovered that being kissed by a man was very, very different from kissing a woman.
For one thing, it was far more tender than he had thought it would be.
Feyre had always been so eager, so passionate, and he wanted to make her happy. He often let her take the lead, because she seemed to know what she was doing and what she wanted more than he did. He remembered her lip balm, and lilac-and-pear hand lotion, and lacy underwear with all of its confusing straps and hooks, and the chocolate torte from her favorite restaurant afterwards. Everything had been very… sweet. Like having dessert all the time. The funny thing was, he’d never had much of a sweet tooth.
But with Lucien, from the black coffee they had shared down to the citrus-y notes of his cologne, it was like sampling a three course dinner… and he was starving.
As their kisses began to quicken, Tamlin made some kind of small noise that must have been the lovemaking equivalent of a stomach growling—guttural and discomfiting and completely involuntary—because Lucien pulled his warm mouth away to murmur something, and it took him a moment to understand what it was.
“You okay?”
“Mm? Mm-hmm.” Tamlin tasted his lips and tasted Lucien and could think of nothing else.
“Am I moving too fast?”
Tamlin shook his head, but Lucien moved off him anyway.
“It’s okay, Tam. We don’t have to rush.” He smiled to himself as he patted Tamlin’s chest. “We have all night.”
Tamlin shook his head to clear it as Lucien sat up. “W-we do?”
“Oh…” Lucien paused from smoothing back his hair. “I guess we didn’t really discuss it. Did… did you want me to take you home? Because I can.”
Tamlin thought about Jurian’s cold, dark apartment with its broken couch and stained carpets, then shook his head. “I want to stay. I-if that’s okay.”
“Of course it’s okay,” Lucien said warmly, then said something in Scythian.
“What does that mean?”
“My home is your home.”
“One couch is as good as another,” Tamlin joked, then when Lucien stared at him, he faltered. “I-I guess.”
“You sleep on the couch?”
Tamlin rubbed the back of his neck. “Well, yeah… It’s only a one-bedroom apartment, so…”
“You sleep on the couch?!”
Tamlin shrugged and crossed his arms. “It’s better than sleeping on the floor.”
Lucien closed his eyes and shook his head. “No. Nuh-uh. No way. You are not sleeping on the couch,” he said, then grabbed Tamlin’s arm and pulled. “Come with me.”
Tamlin was led to the same bedroom that he had had to go through to use the bathroom earlier. All of the furniture matched, from the giant king-size bed with its padded headboard to the sleek nightstands and bureaus made out of polished, dark hardwood.
“You’ll sleep here.”
Tamlin looked between him and the bed. “Isn’t this your room?”
“Yeah… Is that okay?”
Tamlin fiddled with his shirt collar as he began to blush. “Yeah. Sure…”
“Tell you what,” Lucien said, retrieving a pillow next to the headboard. “I’ll sleep on the couch.”
Tamlin stopped him before he could get past.
“Do you want back problems? Because that’s how you get back problems.”
“Then what do you suggest?”
Tamlin blushed. “Um, well… We—we could both, um…”
Lucien’s eyebrows rose as he looked at him sidelong. “Are you suggesting we sleep together after the first date?” He hugged the pillow to his chest and drawled, “Why, Tamlin. I don’t know what to say…”
Tamlin’s face flushed from his neck up to his hairline. “No! No! That’s not what I meant—” he stammered, but Lucien only laughed.
“You’re so cute when you’re flustered, Tam,” he said, then tossed the pillow back onto the bed.
Cute. Tamlin rubbed the back of his neck. His skin was fiery hot. “It’s just, we shared a room back in college, so…”
“Yeah, but that was a room. Not a bed,” Lucien said more seriously. “I don’t want to push you farther than you’re willing to go.”
“I mean… It’s just sleeping, right?”
“That’s up to you.”
Tamlin swallowed hard at the thought. “Maybe this was a bad idea,” he said quickly. “I don’t even have anything to sleep in, so…”
“You want something to…? You know what? That’s okay. Baby steps.” Lucien held up his finger as if something had just occurred to him. “Actually, I think Alex is about your size.”
“Alex?” Tamlin grimaced. “Is this another ex-boyfriend?”
Lucien looked at him askance. “Do I detect a little bit of judgment in your tone there, Tam?”
“What? No!” Tamlin’s face flushed anew. “This is all so new to me, I just… I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. I understand,” Lucien said in a gentler tone, then sighed. “This is honestly pretty new to me, too. I’ve been fighting with my dad about it for years now. My mom has been amazing about it, and my brothers are finally coming around, even Alex, so…”
“Oh.” Tamlin blinked and understood. “Oh.”
“Mm-hmm,” Lucien nodded, smiling. “Alexander Vanserra is brother number five,” he explained, then added in a low, confidential tone, “He stays here sometimes when his wife ‘accidentally’ locks him out of their apartment.”
“Oh…” Tamlin nodded slowly. “Well… what happens if his wife decides to lock him out of the apartment?”
“Then he can sleep on the couch.” Lucien smirked. “He always does.”
Tamlin gawked as Lucien went to the large bureau and pulled out some folded clothes from the bottom drawer. “Why would you make him sleep on the couch, but not me?”
Lucien turned and stood with a grimace. “First of all, I don’t make him sleep anywhere. He gets to sleep there. And second of all, you know what it’s like having brothers. I have six. If I set up a spare room or something, they’d feel welcome to stay over a lot more often. I like my privacy.” He held out the bundle of clothes and smiled. “It just so happens that I like you more.”
When Tamlin hesitated to take the proffered clothes, Lucien nudged them closer.
“Don’t worry. They’re clean.”
Tamlin bit his lip and tentatively accepted them. They looked—and felt—like a basic t-shirt and pajama bottoms, but made of a finer quality fabric than he’d ever been able to afford. Not quite silk, but damn close.
“Thank you,” he said quietly, tucking them under his arm. “I didn’t mean to criticize. I just know what it’s like to sleep on a couch, so…”
“I know,” Lucien said gently. “But you’re not my brother, so you get a choice: Would you rather sleep on the couch, or with me?”
Tamlin’s face grew so hot he broke into a sweat.
Lucien smirked at his speechlessness, then winked. “Thought so,” he said, then gave him a friendly slap on the arm. “The bathroom’s through that door, but you knew that already.”
Tamlin watched as Lucien crossed the room to a large walk-in closet. “What about you?”
Lucien turned in the doorway and paused unbuckling his gold wristwatch. “What about me?”
“What are you going to do?”
Lucien gave him a kind, if bemused, smile. “I’m going to change, then I’ll use the bathroom when you’re done. Then we’ll both be ready for bed. Sound good?”
Tamlin’s heart leapt to his throat. Done. Both. Bed. He swallowed hard. “Good,” he rasped.
Lucien nodded, still smiling. “Good,” he repeated, then disappeared into the closet’s depths.
The brown-and-bronze bathroom was enormous, and terribly well-lit. Tamlin faced away from the large rectangular mirror above the marble sink to change clothes. He wasn’t quite ready to face anyone naked, least of all himself. It had been at least six years since he had been intimate with anyone, and that had been with a woman.
He didn’t know exactly how gay men did it. His father had practically beaten all the curiosity out of him, and Feyre had made him feel like he was just like everyone else. But now, standing in another man’s home, getting ready to get into that man’s bed… He couldn’t help but wonder.
“That was fast,” Lucien remarked as he stepped out of the bathroom.
“Yeah, well, my stuff is at home, so…” Tamlin trailed off and blushed as he realized what Lucien was wearing—or not wearing: a white tank and a pair of what looked like luxury sweatpants that hung low and loose around his hips. Lucien’s feet were bare, as were his, and that seemed more intimate than anything they had done on the couch. This was happening.
Blood was beginning to flow where it shouldn’t, so he was grateful when Lucien brought him back to the present.
“You know,” Lucien remarked, turning off the light in his closet. “I could empty out a drawer or two for you, if you’d like to keep some things here.”
As Lucien stepped closer, the smell of his cologne filled Tamlin’s nose and made him heady and hungry: notes of citrus and cinnamon and clove…
“Unless you don’t mind wearing my brother’s old pajamas,” Lucien continued with a wry smile.
“Oh, um…” Tamlin looked down and pinched the fine pale blue fabric covering his chest. “It is a little tight, so…”
Lucien looked him over with a sly smirk. “You say that like it’s a bad thing,” he said in a low, meaningful voice, then nudged him as he passed by. “Go on. Get comfortable. I’ll be out in a few minutes.”
Tamlin let out a sudden breath as the bathroom door closed behind him. His heart and his lungs and his head were on fire. Nothing seemed real.
Especially the bed. The pillows looked like they were covered in chocolate satin, and the thick, quilted duvet looked like layers of whipped cream. Like swimming in a sea of rich hot chocolate.
As Tamlin slipped between the silky satin sheets, he couldn’t help but moan as the mattress cradled his body in just the right ways, like that little fairy story his mother had told him as a child. Not too hard, not too soft, but just right. Perhaps he’d wake up to find three bears staring down at him, or even Jurian nudging him awake on his way to the kitchen because he’d slept too long.
Even if this was a dream or fairy tale, he was going to savor it. His eyes had just drifted closed when the bathroom door opened, and his eyes shot open, too. Right. This was Lucien’s bed, and he was in it.
Lucien smiled at him as he stepped closer. His hair was pulled back into a high half-ponytail, and he was rubbing something onto his hands that looked and smelled expensive. “Are you still awake?” he asked gently. “You look so comfortable, I couldn’t tell.”
Tamlin had the covers pulled up to his chest. “I’m afraid if I move I might actually wake up.”
Lucien chuckled, then looked thoughtful as he put his hands on his hips and looked him over. “Are you okay with this? I could still sleep on the couch, you know.”
“So could I.”
Lucien shook his head. “That is not going to happen,” he said firmly, then switched on his bedside lamp. “You’re my guest, and my friend, and—” He paused before he pulled back the covers. “—Would you mind if I said ‘boyfriend’? Because we don’t have to be exclusive if you’re not ready.”
It was getting difficult to breathe. “You mean like… friends with benefits?”
“If you like.”
Tamlin stared at the ceiling fan high above his head. “I—I’m not sure yet.”
“Yeah,” Lucien said softly, finally pulling back the covers. “We only met this morning, so…”
“It seems like longer than that,” Tamlin remarked as Lucien slipped between the sheets. The mattress barely dipped from Lucien’s weight, but the presence of him, the heat of him was more than palpable, even though he was on the other side of the bed. It made him shiver.
“Yeah,” Lucien said again, settling onto his back. After a moment’s pause, he turned his head and motioned to the television on the other side of the room and said, “Do you want to watch something? I don’t, usually, but if you want to…”
“No, it’s fine.”
“Okay,” Lucien murmured.
Tamlin was sure Lucien could hear his heart beating. His pulse was thrumming like violin strings as he laid there… It had been so long since he had played. Would he even remember how? Would he like it? And most importantly, would Lucien like it…
“Tam?”
“Hmm?”
“I’m really glad you’re here.”
Tamlin turned his head at that. “You are?”
Lucien smiled. “Yeah.” He turned onto his side and propped himself up onto his elbow. “After all these years, I finally know you’re safe… It’s nice.”
Tamlin considered this as he shifted the blanket around his shoulders. “I thought about reaching out, but… I didn’t want you to worry.”
“Well, I did worry.”
Tamlin swallowed hard. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. We’re together now, and that’s what matters.”
“Yeah. Together,” Tamlin echoed, then took a quivering breath.
“Hey. We don’t have to do anything tonight. It’s been a long day. Why don’t we get some sleep, then we can talk in the morning.”
“Yeah,” Tamlin whispered. “Okay.”
Lucien looked thoughtful for a moment, then asked, rather shyly, “Would it be all right if I… kissed you goodnight?”
A nervous laugh threatened to bubble out, but Tamlin managed to squelch it. “Okay.”
Lucien leaned in, then paused, hovering over him. “Where?”
“Where? Um, anywhere, I guess.”
Lucien smirked. “Anywhere?” he asked in a low, sultry tone.
Tamlin’s head emptied. “Uh…”
Lucien’s smile was bright in the dim light as he leaned in to kiss Tamlin’s forehead. “Good night,” he murmured, then trailed another kiss down to one eyelid, then the other. “Good night,” he whispered again, then kissed Tamlin on the mouth, and lingered.
If Tamlin’s hands hadn’t been knotted in the sheets, he might have reached up to keep Lucien there, but he had already moved away by the time the thought occurred to him.
“‘Night, Tam,” Lucien said, settling back in between the covers.
“Good night, Lu,” he managed. Each kiss seemed to sparkle on his skin. “Hey, Lu?”
“Yeah?”
“I… Thanks.”
“For what?”
“I don’t know. For this.” He tasted his lips. “For—for kissing me goodnight.”
He could hear Lucien’s smile as he replied, “Anytime, Tam,” then switched off his bedside lamp.
Tamlin took a deep breath, then somehow found the strength to turn over onto his side to blindly face the center of the bed, and the sheets rustled as he could hear and feel Lucien doing the same.
When it had been silent for a minute, and only a minute, he whispered into the darkness, “Hey, Lu?”
“Yeah?”
“This is going to sound incredibly stupid, and-and juvenile, but—”
“No, it won’t,” Lucien said gently. “Tell me.”
Tamlin sighed, then found his courage to ask, “Can… can I hold your hand?”
There was a moment of surprised silence, and he was prepared for the answer to be: You’re right, that was completely juvenile, when a warm, steady hand reached out and found his in the dark, then turned his hand so that Lucien’s fingers could slide between his fingers… until their palms connected.
“Like this?” Lucien whispered.
Lucien’s hands were so much softer than his own that it was a wonder he didn’t drop Tamlin’s hand entirely. Much to his astonishment, Lucien’s thumb even rubbed his own, gently.
“Yeah,” Tamlin breathed. “Like that.”
Lucien’s breath was warm against the back of his hand as he brought his lips to Tamlin’s knuckles, then lingered.
Tears sprang to Tamlin’s eyes at the softness, the tenderness. He couldn’t remember the last time anyone had touched him without obligation, just because they wanted to be near him.
“Sweet dreams, Tam,” Lucien murmured against his skin.
Tamlin managed a smile, and his voice came out in a husky whisper. “Yeah. You, too.”
He didn’t think it was possible, but he fell asleep shortly after that. They were still holding hands.
* * *
Lucien rarely remembered his dreams, and when he did, it was rarely about the past. No doubt Tamlin’s reappearance in his life had unlocked a memory, and it was a bittersweet one. He dreamed about the end of summer, and the way the dust motes swirled in the slanted golden light of his dorm room window. He could still feel the thumbtacks between his fingers as he pulled down the last of his photos from the worn corkboard hanging above the empty desk sitting on his half of the room.
He sighed as he halfheartedly thumbed through the stack of photos he had taken over the last two years. “I guess that’s everything,” he said with a thoughtful frown. “Are you sure you don’t want to keep any of these?” he asked his roommate sitting on his bed.
Tamlin stood. “You need something to decorate your new room,” he said with a wry, hesitant smile, then added, “Besides, you might forget what we look like.”
Lucien snorted softly. “As if I could. We’ve been sharing a room forever.” He tapped his temple. “Your face is burned into my brain.”
Tamlin chuckled, then took something out of his back pocket. “And speaking of burning…” Lucien took the proffered photo as he continued, “I got everyone to sign it.”
Lucien barked a laugh at the sight of them and the rest of the so-called High Lords sprawled around the room, stoned out of their minds. He turned it over and read: Tam, Tarquin, Kal, Thesan, Rhys…
“It just needs your signature,” Tamlin hinted.
Lucien smirked. “Why? You think I won’t remember my own name?”
“Dude. That whole night is a blur.” He jerked his thumb at the potted plant soaking up the sun behind him. “Besides. Think of this as a keepsake of the last time we were all together, since we can’t go to Scythia with you.”
Lucien felt tears prick his eyes even as he smiled, then hid it by bending over the desk to add his signature to the back.
“That’s L-U-C-I-E-N,” Tamlin prompted.
“Dude, shut up,” Lucien said, laughing. He nearly messed up his own name, but finally managed to add his scrawl to the top right corner.
Tamlin grinned at him as he straightened up. “See? That wasn’t so hard.”
“Dude.” Lucien laughed, and playfully shoved him.
Tamlin barely flinched, but continued to smile.
His golden hair curled across his forehead and around his ears, and the amber flecks in his warm green eyes shone brightly in the afternoon light.
Lucien’s chest grew tight. “I’m going to miss you, man,” he said quietly.
Tamlin’s smile faded as he nodded. “I’m going to miss you, too.”
Lucien was grateful when Tamlin opened his arms first for a shared embrace. He had come a long way since his first day, when he had looked at Lucien with such distrust, and, almost, fear. Now he held his arms wide without hesitation, and Lucien went into them gladly. They thumped each other’s backs the way friends do, then held on a little longer.
Lucien’s fingers curled into Tamlin’s shirt as he tried to hold back tears. “I love you, man,” he whispered, muffled against Tamlin’s broad shoulder.
Tamlin’s hand slid across his back and held him tight. “I love you, too, Lu.”
They held on a moment longer, then parted to each furtively wipe their cheeks.
Lucien sniffed and slid his hands into his pockets, then had a sudden idea. “Oh, you know what? Here.” He drew out one of his most prized possessions and offered it to his best friend. “I want you to have this.”
Tamlin stared at the gift, then at him. “Your camera?” he asked gently. He looked tempted to take it, then shook his head. “No way, man. I can’t accept that. You need it for when you go to Scythia…”
Lucien shrugged dismissively. “I’ll get my mom to buy me a new one,” he insisted. “Or maybe she can convince my dad to buy me something for once.” He let out a snort of disgust. “I swear, it’s like I’m not even his son for the way he treats me. You know, he didn’t even want to pay my tuition, even though it wouldn’t make a dent in his bank account.”
Tamlin smiled sadly, then nodded. “I know what that’s like,” he said softly, then bit his lip, staring at the proffered camera. “Are you sure about this?”
Lucien nodded. “I’m sure.”
Tamlin tentatively accepted it with a soft ‘Thanks, man’, then hefted it with a surprised laugh. “Geez, you take photos with this thing? It feels like a giant paperweight.”
“You’ll get used to it,” Lucien said with a grin. “Then maybe you can send me something when I’m in Scythia, so I can see how you’re doing.”
“Yeah, if I can figure out how,” Tamlin said, turning it over. “Hey, show me how it works, or it really will be a giant paperweight.”
Lucien smiled, then stepped closer to point out the buttons and controls. After Tamlin took an experimental photo of him, he suggested, “Hey, why don’t we take one last picture together? That way I don’t forget what you look like.”
Tamlin smirked as he lowered the camera. “I thought my face was burned into your brain.”
“It is, but… What if I get amnesia? Or you get kidnapped and I have to give your photo to the authorities so they know who to look for?”
Tamlin rolled his eyes. “I don’t think you have to worry about that,” he said, then held out his arm. “Come here.”
Lucien remembered the way Tamlin’s strong arm slid around his shoulders and held him close, and the way their heads touched as he held up the camera.
“Wait,” Tamlin said, lowering it again. “Saying cheese is too cheesy. How about… ‘Scythia’?”
Lucien’s heart twinged, but he managed a smile as he looked into Tamlin’s eyes. “Sure,” he agreed, then looked at the lens as Tamlin held the camera out at arm’s length.
“Okay… One, two, three… Scythia!”
“Scythia…”
Click.
Lucien opened his eyes, and for a moment, he didn’t know where he was. The room was dim, and the sky beyond the windows was barely gray.
A low voice moaned beside him, and he lifted his head from the pillow in alarm. As his wild heartbeat began to slow, he shifted onto his side and squinted at the person sleeping beside him.
His hair was much longer than it had been in his dream, so long that it spilled across the pillow he was hugging to his cheek. The blanket had fallen down to his waist, revealing a pale blue sleep shirt stretched across a muscular torso. His body rose and fell with each soft, steady breath. Despite Lucien sidling closer, Tamlin slept on.
Lucien smiled as he remembered the night before. He was tempted to bend down and kiss Tamlin’s forehead again, but he didn’t want to wake him. Besides, he wasn’t sure how he would react. Tamlin had looked so… surprised every time Lucien asked if he could touch him. It was like they were starting over from scratch. He had to tread carefully.
As gently and carefully as he could, Lucien lifted the blanket up higher and drew it over Tamlin’s shoulders. Even though the room was by no means cold, Tamlin still let out a relieved sigh and relaxed beneath the heavy blanket’s warmth.
Lucien smiled fondly, then carefully withdrew to swing his legs over his side of the bed. He had a fire to light, some coffee to brew, and a very, very important phone call to make.
* * *
Sweet dreams, Tam, Lucien had whispered in the dark. Like magic, Tamlin dreamed about apples. Specifically, sliced cinnamon-and-sugar apples with a pinch of clove, fresh out of the oven. He even started to drool.
The dream world blurred into reality as something warm and fragrant wafted below his nose, and he swallowed. “Are those apple latkes,” he murmured, “or am I dreaming?”
Lucien sounded rather pleased with himself as he said, “Open your eyes and see.”
When he did, the first thing he saw was an open styrofoam container holding a batch of freshly made latkes, just the way he liked them. There was even a sprig of mint on top. “Dude,” he moaned, then looked up to see Lucien grinning from ear to ear. “I think I love you.”
Lucien chuckled, then sat down on the edge of the bed. “Hey, at least buy me dinner first before you start spouting poetry.”
Tamlin groaned as he sat up, then scrubbed at his face with one hand as he accepted the container with the other. “Didn’t I already do that?”
Lucien was silent a moment, then breathed a laugh. “Yeah. I guess you did.”
Tamlin sighed and managed to open his eyes to a squint. “What time is it, anyway?”
Lucien paused from opening his own container to glance over his shoulder. “Umm… Almost nine. I thought about letting you sleep, but I wasn’t sure how long you would, and I really wasn’t sure how well latkes would reheat.” He pointed with his plastic fork at the nightstand at Tamlin’s side. “You’ve got a fresh cup of coffee there if you want it, by the way.”
“Hmm? Oh, thanks,” Tamlin murmured, then set the container down between his blanketed legs to reach for the steaming mug. After a sweet sip of that heavenly caffeine, he sighed, then asked, “Did you really go all the way out to Annie’s just for me?”
Lucien was still dressed in the tank top and sweatpants he had worn the night before, but a loose knit sweater now rested around his shoulders in a flattering navy blue. As he caught Tamlin’s eye, he smiled. “No, but I did call and asked if they deliver,” he said, tucking one leg under him. “And you know what?” He reached out and gently slapped Tamlin’s leg. “They do.”
Tamlin thought of Alis’s gangly nephews racing from the warmth of the diner and into the frosty morning to get in their aunt’s car and drive all the way down to Lucien’s place on a Sunday. He sighed, and lifted the mug to his lips for another sip. “I sure hope you gave them a good tip,” he murmured.
“Of course,” Lucien said, sounding mildly offended. “I didn’t inherit my dad’s tight purse strings, you know.”
Tamlin sighed again, feeling more awake now. “Yeah, I know,” he said quietly, staring into his coffee. “I just don’t want to be a burden.”
“You’re not,” Lucien said gently. “I just want to take care of you. And I didn’t want you to wake up and wonder where I’d gone, so…”
Tamlin nodded. “Thanks, Lu,” he said quietly. He ran his thumb over the smooth handle of his coffee mug and thought of Lucien holding his hand the night before.
“How did you sleep, anyway?”
“It was good,” he squeaked, then cleared his throat. “Really good.”
“Your neck doesn’t seem to be hurting you as much.”
Tamlin paused to think about it, then experimentally rolled his neck and rubbed the back of it as he thought it over. “You know, it doesn’t,” he remarked, then smiled in wonder. “A few more nights like this would probably cure me.”
Lucien smirked. “I wouldn’t mind if you wanted to give it a try.”
Tamlin blushed like a teenager and dropped his gaze. “Good to know,” he murmured.
Lucien shifted so that both of his legs were beneath him. “So… I don’t want to make things weird, but, uh, I had a dream about you last night.”
Tamlin’s blush deepened as he looked up. “You did?”
Lucien’s face was a little red as he shyly grinned. “Yeah. It was about the last time I saw you… before yesterday, I mean.”
Tamlin tried to think back, but it was a hazy memory at best. “What happened?”
Lucien shrugged. “Nothing important,” he said dismissively, breaking apart his latkes with his fork. “I just mentioned it because I can’t believe you’re really here, that’s all.”
“Yeah… Me, neither,” Tamlin murmured.
He had just taken that first sweet bite of applesauce-laden latke when Lucien spoke again.
“Hey, Tam?”
“Hmm?”
“Do you remember that time we draped lights over your plant and sang ‘O Christmas Weed’?”
Tamlin closed his eyes and shook his head, chuckling. “God. I do, now,” he said with his mouth full.
Lucien twirled his fork with a shy, thoughtful smile. “So, I was thinking… Maybe we could do something like that this year. You know, but with a real tree.”
“You want to get a Christmas tree? Now? In the middle of December?”
Lucien winced. “Yeah, well. I didn’t really have anyone to celebrate with… before now.”
Tamlin pointed at himself. “You want to celebrate with me?”
“Don’t look so surprised,” Lucien chided with a smile. “I know you said Christmas isn’t really your thing, but… seven years is a long time. We have a lot of catching up to do.”
As Tamlin sat back and considered it, Lucien went on.
“I mean, we did sleep together, so… Decorating a tree together seems pretty tame, don’t you think?” he teased.
Tamlin chuckled and glanced away. “Yeah, it does.”
“If it sounds like too much work, we can get something small,” Lucien suggested. “Or, maybe, if you wanted to, we could invite Vassa and your friend Jurian over to help decorate.” He shrugged. “You know. See how things feel.”
Tamlin’s gaze dropped down to the coffee in his hand to the container of still steaming latkes resting between his legs, to the pajamas he was wearing, to the extremely comfortable bed he was still sitting in. “Yeah,” he said, then smiled up at Lucien. “I’d like that.”
Lucien’s answering grin was a thing of beauty, and he nodded. “So would I.”
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*taps chin thoughtfully* Isn't it weird how the yellow SOUL is the only SOUL we've seen besides the red one in Deltarune? And that Undertale Yellow, which was in production long before Chapter 2 was released, was just released in full?
FTR, I'm not suggesting any connections. It's just really frikkin' weird, the coincidence is giving me goosebumps. It would be like stumbling into a random old shack in the woods and finding your identical twin that got separated from you at birth.
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goddesspharo · 10 months
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fic: a fraudulent zodiac Top Gun: Maverick "Should I be offended by how game you are to volunteer me for these honeypot missions?" No one questions who he had to give up to stay alive. (Or: the one where they're all spies. Agent Bradley Bradshaw returns after being presumed dead for five years, but the only person who seems to doubt his allegiances is Jake Seresin, a man with his own share of baggage.)
CHAPTER ONE: the pledge The magician shows you something ordinary: a deck of cards, a bird, or a man. He shows you this object. Perhaps he asks you to inspect it to see if it is indeed real, unaltered, normal. But of course…it probably isn't.
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wttcsms · 4 months
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tsukisdiary · 1 year
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sometimes i think about the fact that rick's mom canonically didn't give a shit about his achievements when he was growing up and after his daughter died he had to encounter multiple versions of her who were constantly frustrated due to having their potential nipped as a teenager because of something that happened when they were seventeen without even knowing that in multiple realities the same event that changed their lives was also orchestrated by the same fathers that abandoned them. and how angry he must feel with everything; with the citadel, with other ricks, with himself for even leading the fucking other ricks to begin with. and just being so angry he can't shoulder all the guilt so he chooses to project it on his son in law who happens to be an incompetent, egotistical, idiot
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maiagaru · 2 years
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Inspired by @heartsways wonderful fic You Can't Play on Broken Strings  (more specifically, chapter 2) for the SWCU/Gentleman Jack AU
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beencryingfor25years · 6 months
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So this month I’ve jumped back into my willex chiropractor au (after not working on it for almost a year) and it just passed 20k words tonight!!
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restrainedhungr · 2 months
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lowkey i really wanna do more with Briar's feral frenzy side
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cosmic-lullaby · 1 year
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LOOK.
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