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#so they can tell immediately that i am not paying attention to star trek
silverserpent · 10 months
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Oh Klahoma
I have been listening for it for quite a while, hello new hyperfixation, and here is a line by line analysis of the lyrics. Because I can.
TW: the theory is about child abuse, bullying and potential suicide.
Set the phasers to rot So. Star Trek reference. Oldschool and nostalgic stuff, at least I think this is what this is implying. It feels like the singer - not Jack, the character who is singing - is mourning childhood, which feels like it's eroding, rotting.
What has got you distraught? It's negative attention at best But call it nothing
I think he talks to his old, childhood self who didn't get too much positive attention, probably because their parents were neglectful and abusive, or bullying. I think being bullied would make more sense in this context, because often the adults tell kids to treat it as nothing.
Maybe its something, a little bit, a little bit Maybe its something, do a little bit, a little bit A moment of oh yeah, the things that happened to me during childhood were actually awful.
It's all about ascension, I guess As in ascension beyond the hurt. Putting trauma behind you. Notice how he uses grandiose language and turns his attention to ascension immediately after he (barely) admitted to himself he had issues.
Don't put me to rest The inner child's response. They beg the singer to please, please, please notice them, pay attention to them. Please, fix the issues. Please, fix the pain.
Go on and hand me your clothes This is probably meant as a sex thing, but I am choosing to interpret it as you either grew out of them, or you played in mud again. Or clothes are symbolic: the singer is trying to shed either their past self, or something that covers up how they really are.
Take a picture or two This reminds me of those photo albums with childhood pictures.
I can see you Recurring theme in Jack's work. I think the neglected inner child gets this said to them, as self-comfort.
Tears falling down at the party Saddest little baby in the room Fears! Tell me fears! Don't get me started I get a little grey hair for every scare you share After the singer finally chose to see the inner child, and their own pain, the inner child is finally able to cry, to release. And now, since they started to unearth the past hurt and pain, the fears and anxieties start to come up.
Those aren't meant to bend No, those aren't meant to bend
Those aren't meant to bend No, those aren't meant to bend The child's boundaries, limits, the child themselves, maybe even physically. I think they were forced to carry much more than they should have, and this brings things like support beams bending in mind. (This made sense in my head.)
I hear your eyes And I see those cries I hear those eyes And I see those cries I can't be the only one who hears you This. This makes me think that the crying person is not physically at the party, partially because of hearin eyes and seeing cries is weird at best, and partially because "I can't be the only one who hears you". Often, these kind of experiences are so strong and overwhelming you feel like other people must see and hear you too. And often, they don't.
<insert bunch of repeating lyrics>
Fears! Tell me fears! Don't get me started I might die
Well. This is because facing your fears is fucking overwhelming, and it can feel like dying. Maybe the singer did die, and committed suicide, maybe they just felt very very bad for a while.

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make-me-imagine · 1 year
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Fandom 1: Star Trek Voyager (I'm watching the show for the first time and curious what vibe I put off haha)
Gender: I'm female. I am open to ship with any gender.
Me: I'm autistic/ADHD and a very big fan of to do lists and scheduling my day (which I sometimes need to do or I forget what I have to do). I've been told I am very generous, sweet and good-hearted. I tend to put everyone before myself, which means sometimes I forget to eat, don't sleep, or skip things I like to do in order to do what others prefer. I'm terrible with talking about emotions so my love language tends to be gifts and acts of service but I often need people to tell me I'm important to them. Unfortunately, I will let people take advantage of me if it keeps the peace.
I'm not assertive, I feel things extremely deeply, (also you can read my emotions on my face...I can't hide them for anything!), and I have a deep-seated fear of never being good enough for anyone.
I love playing World of Warcraft, watching TV and movies (several genres...crime, action, sci-fi, adventure, fantasy), and writing stories. I love to read, sunrises and sunsets, the ocean, weather, volcanoes, the Navy (I have a thing for ships), and history. (If I was on a holodeck I would be all over history...the 20s, the 80s, the 40s, the moon landing...)
My partner has to be patient and have a sense of humor. They have to understand that some days I can't take direct talk, and some days that's all I can do. They have to be willing to give me my space but at least check in with me to make sure I'm taking care of myself. A little tough love now and then is good. Finally, they have to be understanding about my hyperfixations. I am going to get crazy about things and they are going to affect me emotionally. I have no control over this.
Thanks. ❤️
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I'm gonna go ahead and answer both ships in one ask! I hope you don't mind :)
I hope you are enjoying Voyager it's a great show!
Fandom: Voyager
I ship you with Chakotay
Chakotay is very caring and genuine and would be able to see you for who you really are a lot easier and faster than some. He is not judgmental or harsh in any way, and he is very patient.
Chakotay never shy's away from telling you how he feels about you, and he will definitely come with the tough love if needed. He knows your love languages well, so he can easily tell just ho much you love him. He will watch out for you and make sure you are eating properly, and drinking water. He will chastise you (lovingly) when he finds out you forgot to eat.
He is also protective and if he ever finds out someone is using you, he will protect you.
He's into history as well, so he would be down for going on history related holo-dates.
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Runner Up Ship: Harry Kim
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Fandom: Enterprise
I ship you with Malcolm!
At first my immediate thought was to ship you with Trip. Bu then I realized, that you and Malcolm would probably have a great relationship. BUT it would start out as a sort of love/hate, enemies to frenemies to lovers thing.
You two would misunderstand each other at first. He thought you were an over achiever and were trying to get to something selfishly (but in reality you just worked really hard). You thought he was rude, and didn't get why he seemed to dislike you for no reason.
You would avoid each other as much as you could. But things happen and you get forced together, and Malcolm starts to realize he misunderstood you, and that you were a lot more like him than he had realized.
After that he started to actually pay attention to you, and found himself falling for you. He started to be nicer, and seemed to seek you out. Eventually he apologized and told you that he had misunderstood you. You forgave him and then you two became good friends, which eventually turned into a very loving relationship.
He is not the best with his words either, but you two grew to understand each other so well, that you knew in your actions how much you loved each other.
Malcolm might make fun of you for your hyper-fixations (always in a loving, teasing way), but he supports them, and will discuss the with you as well. He loved listening to you talk about things you enjoy, even if he might not understand them himself.
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Runner Up Ship: Trip
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aretarers · 3 years
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i love letting my friends know im drawing and then going on tumblr and reblogging things so they can tell immediately that i am not drawing
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babymetaldoll · 3 years
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Stargazing (Spencer Reid/Reader)
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Requested: No, but I needed some hardcore fluff
Summary: The team is “forced” to go camping, and Spencer finally decides to make “his move” on Reader.
Pairing: Spencer Reid/ Reader
Category: Hardcore fluff
Warnings: Zero
Word count: 3,2K
Masterlist
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It was the first time the BAU didn't argue Strauss's decision. She had walked into the conference room and explained to the team that the FBI had decided each department had to do a workshop related to teamwork and trust.
- "You will spend this weekend camping together. You will be part of a Team-Building Training Workshop"- Strauss wasn't excited about the idea of her best team wasting a whole weekend. But she was glad her department didn't have to do the activity. She hated camping.
- "Are you telling me we have to spend our weekend in sleeping bags, singing kumbaya?"- Rossi raised an eyebrow and looked at Erin, and she didn't move a muscle- "I'm out."
- "David, I'm not asking you if you want to do it. The whole team has to be part of this activity, that includes you."
- "Come on, Rossi,"- Prentiss smiled and tried to cheer him up- "It will be a nice change from catching serial killers for a weekend.
- "Really, Emily?"- Rossi crossed his arms on his chest and looked at Reid- "Hey, kid. How many dead bodies are found each year in the woods in the country?"
- "Over 2.543 last year,"- Spencer answered. And didn't stop talking, of course- "We can not be sure they were all serial killer related cases. The most common ways to die in the woods are drowning, car accident, and suicide."
- "Suicide it is."- David whispered. He knew it was going to be a long weekend.
Even when he wasn't a person who loved camping and outdoor activities, Spencer was excited to spend the weekend with the team, especially with (Y/N). His teammate, best friend, and secret crush. Ok, it wasn't really a secret.
Of course, everybody knew about Spencer's feelings. He never successfully hid them from the team. You didn't need to be a profiler to notice each time (Y/N) walked into a room, Reid's eyes would follow her, and his cheeks blushed. When they sat together in the jet, Spencer would always be too self-aware of his own movements. He would try not to move, especially when she had fallen asleep, resting her head on his shoulder. And when they were working on a case together, he would always cover her on the field, and he would make sure she was safe, even when the unsub was already caught.
He loved her. Even a blind man could see. Except for (Y/N), of course. Because according to her own words: "There's no way Spencer Reid is in love with me. He would never look at me that way. He is perfect, and I'm a mess. He deserves the perfect genius girl."
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- "Ok, Romeo, this weekend is the perfect opportunity for you to make your move"- Derek and Reid were alone in the SUV on their way to the retreat.
- "Sure. Because there's no better time to make a fool out of myself than in front of all my friends in the middle of nowhere."
- "What's with the attitude, pretty Ricky? Relax"- Morgan frowned and put on some music, singing along for a moment. Reid looked at him and raised an eyebrow, trying not to laugh.
- "Ok man, picture this: you, your pretty lady, in the middle of the night, gazing at the stars together, alone in the middle of the forest. The full moon is the only light."
- "Who are you? since when are you a romance expert?"
- "Hey! I can be romantic!"
- "I've seen you get girls only by raising an eyebrow"- Reid argued, and he was right. It had happened once, but that was another completely different story.
- "What I'm trying to tell you is that you have the perfect chance to tell her how you feel during this trip"- Spencer was about to start debating that idea when Derek continued.
- "And stop saying she has no feeling for you!"
Reid bit his tongue and looked at the road. Neither of them said a word for the next couple of minutes. Until Spencer whispered
- "But she doesn't"
- "She does!!"- Derek nearly yelled
- "Why are you so sure?!"
- "Because she told Penelope she is in love with you!!"
The silence in the car was as intense as the red in Spencer's cheeks. Derek knew he shouldn't have said that, but he was tired of seeing his best friend's sad eyes each time he stared at (Y/N). Someone had to do something, and he knew neither of them would make the first move.
- "Are you sure?"- Reid's mouth was hanging open- "I mean, maybe she was joking."
- "No, she was honest. So please, this weekend, make your freaking move."
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How could Spencer ever make his move? He had no idea. He didn't even have a "move"! But something inside of him felt a little more confident now.
That didn't show on the outside at all, 'cos during the whole day, he was more clumsy than ever. He dropped his coffee. He failed the first two attempts to set up his tent and nearly fell carrying logs for the fire.
He wanted to dig a hole and hid.
But (Y/N) didn't notice any of that. Not because she didn't pay attention, but because she was oblivious to any of those things. She just couldn't stop staring: He was wearing jeans. Spencer Walter Reid was wearing jeans and a t-shirt. (Y/N) thought she was going to have a heart attack when he got out of the car.
Sure, yes, she had seen him outside work in a more casual outfit, but nothing prepared her for Spencer's camping clothing. It suited him too well for his own good.
- "Hello? Anybody there?"- Prentiss waved at (Y/N). She and JJ stood in front of her, trying to catch her attention.
- "Jesus! you look like a schoolgirl today!"- JJ teased her, laughing- "Can you be more obvious?"
- "What are you talking about?"- (Y/N) tried to look all innocent and continued setting the logs for the campfire.
- "If Spencer wasn't so clueless about your feelings, I swear you two would be already married,"- Emily joked and helped (Y/N) with the logs. The young SSA just shook her head and tried to keep her eyes from Reid for as long as she could. She successfully did it for five minutes. That day's record.
- "(Y/N), hey"- he stood by her side, and she quickly stood up.
- "Hey, how are you doing?"
- "Good... you?"- she just nodded and smiled. She really was acting like a schoolgirl in front of Spencer- "Great... hey, I thought maybe tonight you would like to do some stargazing with me..."- Emily and JJ heard him and nearly squealed. They tried to look away, but it was impossible. They needed to know what was happening. Where was García? she was going to be so mad she missed that.
- "Yeah! I'm sure tonight we can see way more stars than on your building's roof like last time."
(Y/N) answered, smiling, thinking there was nothing more romantic than being underneath a starry sky, listening to Spencer talking about constellations.
- "Ok, kids,"- Rossi's voice stepping out of his huge camper interrupted them and forced everybody to turn around- "Let's do this trust thing we are forced to do before it's lunchtime. Maybe we can manage to go home early."
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Of course, they weren't. The whole team had to work as a unit to fulfill a series of activities an expert team the FBI had hired forced them to do. Aaron thought it was unnecessary, considering they worked on the field together, and they trusted each other with their lives all the time. But he was also sure his team needed a break, and everybody could use some fresh air.
- "Great work, team"- Hotch hugged everybody and smiled when the whole activity was done- "I think we've earned a nice dinner."
- "Please don't tell me we have to hunt our food"- Penelope wide opened her eyes suddenly and looked at Hotch- "I can eat blueberries."
- "Don't worry, kids"- Rossi shook his head and pointed to his camper- "Anyone in the mood for a nice steak?"
- "I bought marshmallows for the campfire later,"- (Y/N) said and smiled- "You are never too old for some s'more."
- "Scary stories by the fire eating s'mores? I'm ten years old again"- JJ looked excited- "I need to do this with Henry."
- "Just don't tell him your "I'm scared of the woods because I found the camp director dead" story." - Derek said, smiling.
- "You freaked out!"- JJ chuckled, remembering how she had scared her friends a few years earlier while working on a case in the woods.
- "I need to hear that story!"- Emily said- "I bet it's no better than mine, I'm sure."
- "Battle of horror stories?"- (Y/N) smiled evilly- "You two have nothing on me."
-
The evening was fun and a little terrifying. Garcia was holding Derek's arm so tight it was starting to feel numb. Rossi and Hotch had told a couple of stories that left the team completely frightened, to be fair. Especially Spencer. He had forgotten an essential part of his plan: nights in the woods are dark as pitch. And he was afraid of the dark. How would he successfully take (Y/N) to a nice spot, sit down and stare at the stars with her if he was too scared to move from the fire?
(Y/N) looked at Reid and sighed. Maybe he had regretted it. Of course, he hasn't forgotten his invitation, 'cos Spencer remembered everything. Still, he hadn't made any move or sign to go stargazing. Being alone with him in the dark was scary but in the right way. Maybe she could finally tell him how she felt. No, no way. That wasn't going to happen.
- "Ok, so... it's late, and we are out of wine"- Rossi stood up and looked at the team- "I am ready to go to my comfy bed"- the rest of the team groaned. They were going to spend the night in a tent, probably freezing, while Rossi was going to be in his warm camper.
- "I'm going to sleep too, we have trekking in the morning, and it's going to be a long walk. I suggest you all go to bed early."- Hotch stood up and waved at the team, to then walk to his tent."
- "Sweet chocolate thunder, is there room in your tent for me?"- Penelope asked, and he chuckled immediately
- "Are you still scared of the stories? they are just made up things people create to terrify us."
- "I know. But I'm also scared of bears, psycho killers, and slender man"- Morgan looked at her, raising an eyebrow. She wasn't joking.
- "Bring your sleeping bag."
- "You are my hero. I love you."
Prentiss and JJ went to bed soon after, leaving the two love birds alone.
- "Stargazing?"- Reid whispered, and (Y/N) nodded- "We should find a darker stop... or we can stay here by the fire if you like."
- "Are we going to get a nice view here?"- (Y/N) looked at the stars and tried to see anything.
- "No, it has to be darker,"- Spencer whispered, taking a look around- "There was a nice spot by the cliff, that way."
- "I don't think walking to a cliff in the middle of the night is a good idea"- (Y/N) smiled, and Reid shook his head
- "You are right..."
- "But we can walk carefully and carry a flashlight,"- she added and smiled, looking at him. His brown curls moved with the wind, and his chocolate eyes were brighter than the sparks of fire next to them.
- "That sounds good."
Spencer stood still for a second. He had a blanket in one hand and a bag of marshmallows in the other. (Y/N) put on her scarf and jacket and stared at him.
- "Are you ok?"
- "Yeah."
He wasn't. He was trying to calm himself down, thinking that walking in the middle of the dark was worthy because it meant spending time alone with (Y/N).
He kept telling himself he didn't have to worry because nothing was going to happen. He wished he had his gun with him in case of any danger, though. Maybe that could make him feel better.
- "You can't kill darkness, stupid"- he whispered to himself and sighed. (Y/N) walked a step closer and took the marshmallow bag. Then, she held his hand.
- "Let's go?"
That was all Spencer needed. He was ready.
- "Did you know astronomy is the oldest of the sciences?- Reid whispered as they walked hand in hand to a nice clear spot - "Ancient astronomers were able to differentiate between stars and planets, as stars remain relatively fixed over the centuries while planets will move an appreciable amount during a comparatively short time."
- "And when did you start learning about the stars?"- Spencer loved that. How each time he started rambling, she wouldn't get annoyed like the rest of the people he knew. Instead, she would always ask him something related to the subject. And it was usually something personal. She wanted to learn more about him and how he had ended up being such an amazing human being.
- "When I was four, mom started taking me regularly to the library. That was when I started to learn more about science. I could pick ten books each time we were there, and I decided I wanted to know everything I could about everything I loved."
Spencer confessed and smiled, looking at her. His heart was warm with their conversations. He was never comfortable talking about his personal life, especially about his childhood. But with (Y/N), it all came naturally.
- "How often did she take you?"
- "Every other day"- she chuckled and remembered the pictures Diana had shown her of Spencer when he was a little kid last time they visited her. He was adorable, with his glasses and his messy hair. It was impossible not to imagine having a family with him.
- "This is it... this is a good spot."- Spencer said and stopped walking. He moved a log and tapped on it, smiling at (Y/N). She sat with him, and he wrapped them together with the blanket.
- "So, what am I staring at?"- (Y/N) asked and kept her eyes on the starry sky. It seemed she had never seen so many stars. And they even looked closer. Spencer looked at her, and his heart skipped a beat. He was about to start a lecture on astronomy, but instead, he decided to do "his move." Or the move he could think of. He didn't really know if it was a move, but he was going to give it a shot anyway.
- "Most stargazers learn about constellations looking for different noticeable patterns across the sky"- he made a pause clearing his throat. That was it. He was going to do it.
- "That's how it all started,"- he continued- "Some of these noticeable patterns up there are still the same ones our ancestors noticed while sitting around a campfire telling stories like we did today."
- "Telling stories about the stars sounds a lot less creepy, though" - (Y/N) whispered, and the two of them smiled- "Wanna tell me a story about these stars?"
There was no way Spencer could say not to her puppy eyes.
- "Ok... let's see..."- Reid sighed and thought for a moment, looking at the constellations above them- "Do you see those stars over there that look like a cute bunny?"
- "Which ones?"- Spencer pointed at the sky, and (Y/N) nodded- "I see them"
- "Well, you'll see, there was a comet in love with the bunny, but it could only look at her from a safe distance."- Spencer finally confessed. (Y/N) held her breath for a second and tried not to get her hopes high.
- "Why?"
- "Well, the comet was afraid he wasn't good enough for the bunny"- Spencer was whispering, and his soft voice sent shivers to (Y/N)'s body- "So he stared at his favorite constellation every day and only imagined what it would feel like to hold her in his arms."
- "And the bunny never saw the comet?"- (Y/N) asked softly, while very, very slowly, she moved her hand and reached Spencer's.
- "The bunny thought the comet just wanted to be her friend because he was scared to tell her how he felt,"
(Y/N) kept thinking there was no way on earth Spencer was telling her how he felt about her with that adorable story. Was he? Really? 'cos it was too romantic, and if he wasn't and she was wrong... it would be heartbreaking. But, there was only one way to find out.
- "I think the bunny felt the same, but she thought she wasn't good enough for the comet"- Spencer's heart raced at those words, and he turned to look at (Y/N). She blushed and stared at him with a shy smile.
- "Why would the bunny ever think that?"
- "The comet is too brilliant and too amazing to settle for a simple constellation when he could have the sun."
(Y/N) was embarrassed to confess those feelings, but it was now or never.
- "But the bunny is the sun in the comet's life."- Spencer whispered and caressed her cheek with his thumb carefully.
- "Really?"- her voice was so soft, it melted Spencer completely. He couldn't answer. All he could do was to lean in slowly and kissed her as gently as he could, enjoying the sensation of her lips against his. He cupped her face with both hands and moved a little closer.
It was the sweetest kiss he had ever given. It wasn't just because (Y/N)'s lips tasted like marshmallow, but because it was filled with pure love. He could feel it, even when he still couldn't believe it. She loved him. She really did.
(Y/N) was sure that wasn't really happening. She had probably fallen down the cliff earlier and was now unconscious or dead, living a fantasy. There was no way Spencer Reid was kissing her.
When they slowly moved and looked at each other, neither of them knew what to say. So (Y/N) did what she always dreamed of doing and leaned in and kissed him again. Spencer didn't hesitate and wrapped his arms around her waist, moving her closer to him. Her hands played shyly with some of the curls of his hair, and they simply kissed for what seemed to be forever, even when it wasn't enough time for them. Spencer felt he could kiss her his whole life, and he still wouldn't get enough of her.
- "So..."- (Y/N) whispered after some minutes and looked at Spencer, blushing- "Do you think the comet and the bunny could... maybe try to be more than friends?"
He smiled and kissed her again, rubbing her lips carefully with his; (Y/N) sighed into the kiss.
- "The comet is willing to do anything the bunny asks him because he just wants to make her happy all day, every day."
(Y/N) couldn't speak. She could only kiss him again and again.
- "Bunny just wants her comet to be happy too."
- "Then would Bunny be the comet's girlfriend?"- she giggled and nodded- "Good, because I don't think I could ever live without your kisses ever again, Bunny."
- "Neither do I, Comet"
And after that, stargazing was forgotten. There were enough stars in their kisses to keep the two of them lost in their own new universe. 
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kaijudyke · 3 years
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hello my friends! as you may or may not be aware i have a healthy obsession with the ballad of tam lin, and today i would like to talk to you about the abundance of parallels between tam lin and star trek deep space nine s02e22 the wire! i will be summarizing the ballad for you so you do not need to be familiar with it! strap in for a long analysis and join me under the cut 💖
1. a summary of the ballad in broad strokes
(all excerpts in this section from child 39A)
tam lin is a scottish folktale about a young woman named janet who goes to the forest of carterhaugh, which is known to be guarded by a fairy called tam lin.
O I forbid you, maidens a', That wear gowd on your hair, To come or gae by Carterhaugh, For young Tam Lin is there.
(janet is aware of this, and goes anyway. one of my favorite running themes in the ballad is janet being incredibly headstrong and cocky.) she picks a few roses, he appears and tells her to stop, she stands up to him, and they end up sleeping together (and, ostensibly, falling in love). she returns home to her father's castle pregnant. her father and the other men at the castle are very concerned about her pregnancy, but she defies them and tells her father that this is her own responsibility and that she'd rather be with tam lin than any human nobleman:
If that I gae wi child, father, Mysel maun bear the blame, There's neer a laird about your ha, Shall get the bairn's name. If my love were an earthly knight, As he's an elfin grey, I wad na gie my ain true-love For nae lord that ye hae.
janet goes back to carterhaugh to pick abortifacient herbs and terminate the pregnancy, since she believes she and tam lin will never be able to be together. tam lin reappears and asks her to stop, and she asks him to tell her more about himself (in many versions she asks him if he's a christian), looking for any reason not to give up on him:
"Why pu's thou the rose, Janet, Amang the groves sae green, And a' to kill the bonny babe That we gat us between?" "O tell me, tell me, Tam Lin," she says, "For's sake that died on tree, If eer ye was in holy chapel, Or christendom did see?"
he tells her that he's human like her, but was taken by the fairy queen as a child. he also says that the fairies pay a tithe to hell every seven years, and he's worried this time they're going to sacrifice him. he tells her how to save him: she must be at miles cross at midnight on all hallow's eve, when the fairies ride by, and she must pull him down from his horse and hold on to him as the fairies change his shape several times.
"They'll turn me in your arms, lady, Into an esk and adder, But hold me fast, and fear me not, I am your bairn's father. "They'll turn me to a bear sae grim, And then a lion bold, But hold me fast, and fear me not, And ye shall love your child. "Again they'll turn me in your arms To a red het gand of airn, But hold me fast, and fear me not, I'll do you nae harm. "And last they'll turn me in your arms Into the burning gleed, Then throw me into well water, O throw me in with speed. "And then I'll be your ain true-love, I'll turn a naked knight, Then cover me wi your green mantle, And hide me out o sight."
(the exact details of the transformations vary between versions, but some of the most common shapes he has to go through are adder, newt, lion, hot coal, and burning iron. if you're interested in the variations, i highly recommend this page!) once the transformations are done, he instructs her to wrap him in her green cloak, after which the fairies won't have a claim to him anymore. janet follows his instructions and successfully saves him, much to the dismay of the fairy queen.
2. janet, julian, and their relationships
whichever version of tam lin you are reading, janet is a character with a ton of agency. she has no qualms about encroaching on tam lin's territory (in fact she tells him in no uncertain terms that the forest is hers), and there is some indication that she might have gone to carterhaugh specifically because she wanted to sleep with tam lin; she's said to be wearing a green dress, and since the color green was associated with the fae, wearing green to a fairy wood is pretty clearly inviting their attention. (in medieval literature, green was also sometimes associated with love and sex.)
it's not hard to draw a parallel between janet's decision to pursue tam lin despite the danger he represents and julian's immediate fascination with garak in past prologue even though (or rather because) he suspects him to be a spy. also of note is that janet and tam lin's relationship begins with an argument, where her willingness to challenge him seems to be what draws him to her. one of my favorite retellings, by james p. spence, emphasizes this:
‘I'm here tae guard these woods, tae see that naebodie nor nothing disturbs their peace.’ ‘An was it ma father that gave ye such a job?’ ‘Naw it wasnae.’ ‘Weel, there ye are then. It should be you that's asking ma permission tae set foot in these woods, because it is ma father that owns them.’ Then the young man's face rose up intae a smile that seemed many a long year since it was last there. (scottish borders folk tales, james p. spence, p. 114-115)
i'm sure i don't need to tell you that this is reminiscent not only of garak and julian's fondness for debate but of the way cardassians show romantic interest. more than that, though, i think there's something to be said for the way these relationships are treated by other people in the characters' lives. janet's father and his knights are troubled by her pregnancy, and they clearly think she should be with a normal, respectable man, preferably one of said knights, given that she feels the need to remark "There's neer a knight about your ha / Shall hae the bairnie's name." (child 39I) in the wire, when julian tells jadzia he wishes garak would trust him, she replies "why should he? it's not like the two of you are really friends." julian's friends do not understand why he spends so much time with garak—a cardassian, a spy, an outcast, someone who can't be trusted.
in both cases it's easy enough to see where they're coming from; being pregnant out of wedlock with a fairy's child is certainly not an ideal situation for a young noblewoman to find herself in, and it's remarkably foolish for a starfleet officer to have regular lunch dates with someone he believes to be an enemy spy. but janet and julian are both stubborn, and more interested in what's adventurous and exciting than what's good for them. (remember that, like janet knowingly going to pick roses in a forest guarded by fairies, julian wanted the position on ds9 because he wanted to try his hand at "frontier medicine"; misguided as he may have been, his thirst for adventure is the reason he's even on the station to begin with.)
3. fairyland, the obsidian order, and enabran tain
in the ballad, tam lin is abducted by the fairy queen when he's a child. she takes him to a magical realm where he feels no pain and is far removed from human worries.
And we that live in faeryland, No sickness know, nor pain, I quit my body when I will, And take to it again. (j. holm, verse 32)
garak has been enabran tain's protégé since he was very young. as an operative of the obsidian order, he's been trained to be cool under pressure, to play his cards close to his chest, and to avoid sentimentality and attachment. the plot of the episode hinges entirely on a device implanted in his brain that keeps him from feeling pain. to save his life, julian has to remove the implant, metaphorically rescuing him from fairyland and the influence of the queen who stole him away from the human world. the fairy queen is very possessive of tam lin and very disdainful of his feelings for janet; in many versions of the ballad, after janet successfully rescues him, the fairy queen remarks that if she'd known this would happen, she would have plucked out his eyes and replaced them with wood, or taken his heart and replaced it with stone.
"But had I kend, Tam Lin," said she, "What now this night I see, I wad hae taen out thy twa grey een, And put in twa een o tree." (child 39A, verse 42) 'Had I but kend, Thomas,' she says, 'Before I came frae hame, I had taen out that heart o flesh, Put in a heart o stane.' (child 39B, verse 41)
much like tain tried and failed to mold garak into the perfect emotionless spy, the fairy queen very literally wants to remove tam lin's ability to feel love, because his emotions make him harder for her to control, and in the end are what lead him to escape her clutches entirely. garak and tam lin are both saved by the same thing: their transgressive love for their rescuer, and the fierce, unconditional love they receive in return.
4. hold me fast and fear me not
the central event of the tam lin ballad, of course, is the transformation scene. i'm sure it's what makes the ballad stick in people's minds; it certainly is for me. there's something so deeply romantic about the phrase "hold me fast and fear me not," and about the idea of loving someone so much that you'll hold on to them even as they turn into a beast in your arms. the wire doesn't have as literal a transformation scene as tam lin, but i would argue that it certainly has one.
after julian removes garak's implant (which we can equate to pulling tam lin down from his horse), garak goes through withdrawal. he becomes, by turns, depressed, and angry, and spiteful, and violent. throughout the episode, we see him try to drive julian away. he refuses his help; he insults him; he tells him contradictory stories about his past, all designed to shock him; when none of this succeeds at discouraging him, he physically lashes out.
julian, however, doesn't budge. he isn't fooled by the shapes garak contorts himself into. he takes every change in stride, never wavering in his determination to save him. every person garak claims to be, julian accepts. like janet defying the fairy queen for love of tam lin, he goes as far as to enter cardassian territory and seek out enabran tain in order to save garak's life. when he believes he's about to die, garak tells julian he needs to know that someone forgives him; "i forgive you," julian says, "for whatever it is you did." whatever kind of beast garak is—whatever kind of beast tain has turned him into—julian will not let go of his hand. he will hold him fast.
He grew into her arms two Like iron in hot fire; She held him fast, let him not go, He was her heart's desire. (child 39D, verse 31)
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the basic structure of these stories is the same: the main character finds out that the person they love is in immediate danger due to something they went through when they were younger, which fundamentally changed them as a person and is also keeping the two from being together. unwilling to lose their love, they brave the wrath of a powerful villain who's controlled this person's life for a long time. there are undeterred by the frightening changes the person goes through. in the end, they are victorious, and their beloved is free.
5. my dear doctor, they're all true
a closing statement: tam lin is a folktale. like any folktale, there are many, many versions of it, often contradicting each other. there is no definitive version of tam lin (though child 39A may be the most famous). you're free to read every available version of the story, finding meaning not only in the most commonly reoccurring themes, but also in which parts of the text speak to you. like garak's contradictory stories about his life, while it's hard to say whether any one element is true, every element tells you something—about the story, or about the person who tells it. my view of these story parallels is heavily influenced by my own personal interpretation of, and feelings about, the ballad. as it should be.
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fakeloveaskblog · 3 years
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Hi Logan, how do I even start? Save this number, if you want to. I have been supporting Remy through texts for a bit. They have revealed to me some very troubling things in the past. Things like, their boyfriend kicking their cane from under them as a ‘joke’? Those kinds of things.
Virgil, that's his name by the way, also kind of yells at them a lot at times, and tells them they're worthless except for the use he can give to their body and that nobody else will ever love them. They believe they are horrible. They believe they deserve it. They appear to think their disability makes them only a burden to him and nothing else and while I have tried to convince them to the contrary I honestly don't believe I can when they're still trapped by choice in such a toxic environment.
I have tried to help and give them the tools to better their self-esteem and combat that, and send them nice text messages in general, but that hasn't helped in anything more than a superficial level. If you can do something, anything, or could take their case to someone who can something, I'd really appreciate that.
(Words: 2088)
(Talk of U!Virgil)
Logan: "That is...That is" He took a moment to gather himself "That is even worse than I had estimated"
"This must have been happening the other times we met them too right? And we didn't notice anything. We should have- we-" Patty mumbled out. Her voice was shaky.
She had just gotten home half an hour ago or so, she wasn't even fully out of her cosplay makeup. Logan had immediately pulled her into a hug which wasn't uncommon but he'd held onto her so hard it hurt and he’d been close to collapsing into the hug.
All it took was her asking if he was alright for him to tell her everything. He couldn't keep a secret from her even if he tried.
Now they sat in the couch. Logan had his head leaned on her chest and she had moved her arms around his waist. All they'd eaten was some of the leftover pie from Lo's date a few days ago because both of them were far too worked up to even think about cooking.
Patty pinched the bridge of her nose and tried to think "Okay well if they're being emotionally abused as what we know suggest then...I..is there even anyone we can contact that could help. I mean there's no- there's no evidence right? Or well- it's just- it's their word against Virgil's and if they won't even say Virgil is abusing them then there's nothing!"
"We can kidnap them" Logan pointed out.
"That we can"
Logan sighed “Do you think talking to them would even make a difference? They seem to already hate me so now it’s even less likely that they’ll listen”
“Well honey you can always try. They go to the same therapist as Janus right? So you can just casually ‘run into them’ right?” She gave him a loving kiss “I know my lil smarty-sweetheart can help them”
He sent her a tired smile “I’ll try”
--
Remy wasn’t as upset from the therapy session as they usually were. It had mostly been discussing how they felt about maybe being poly. They still thought they deserved a smoke break afterwards though so now they sat on bench right outside the entrance, they were on their third cigarette.
They had their head leaned against the back of the bench and was looking up at the greying sky and falling leaves so they didn’t notice when Logan sat down. He kept his distance to not startle them but cleared his throat to get their attention.
“Are you also waiting for someone?” He asked.
They glanced over to him “Girl go fuck yourself with a rake”
“Noted. I will put it in my calender. I for one am here to pick up Janus after his therapy is over for the day. Mayhaps I will show him some more star trek”
“Okay great gal. Then I’m just like waiting for Remus I guess” They pressed the cigarette into their leather jacket to put it out so they could leave as soon as they saw their cru- friend.
Logan inched closer “Is your bruise healing well?”
“Just ‘cause we’re in the same place doesn’t mean we have to talk to each other!” They snapped back.
“Exscuse me, I was simply worried about your physical health”
They rolled their eyes and crossed their arms before mumbling out “It’s fine. It’s whatever. I haven’t done it again so like forget it” 
“I am relieved to hear that”
Silence fell over them. Remy refused to look at him. Logan tried to figure out what was the best way to ask them about Virgil.
“....Your boyfriend did not insult you once you came home right?” He asked them in such a soft tone as if any slight wrong saying would make them implode on themself.
“Girl there you go again with your stupid fucking bullshit. I don’t wanna like talk about it!....Not ‘cause anything happened but ‘cause I hate you! You don’t- we don’t- we’re not friends! Why are you just like forcing yourself in on my private life! It’s like- it’s like fucking stalking!”
Logan reached out his hand to comfort them but quickly stopped himself “I am sorry. I don’t know how to best formulate this but I sincerely don’t mean to upset you like, neither do I know how to not upset you. All I know is that I want you to be okay and that if my partner treated me like yours seem to do I wouldn’t be able to stay”
Remy’s hair fell in front of their face as they leant their head in their plams “You don’t get it” They muttered.
“I am sure I don-”
“IT’S NOT THAT FUCKING EASY! It’s not like I have any savings an-and I’m not able to keep a job and without Virgil I have no way to buy medicine and- Like do you just want me to walk out and become homeless and like starve to death? Is that it? Like even if I wanted to leave, which I don’t, It’s not like I have a choice!”
A quiet sniffle came from them. Logan gave them a moment to gather their breathe.
“I...I didn’t mean to make it sound like leaving was easy” Logan murmured “I understand that you have probably been forced to think like you have no choice but to stay. I am aware of how crippling manipulation like that can be” 
He leaned closer and even though they didn’t look at him he still sent them his most caring look as he continued.
“But I promise you that there are other options. You aren’t stuck. I am willing to let you stay at my apartment for however long you need and if you aren’t comfortable with that I am sure Janus or Remus would let you stay as well. I can even pay for a motel if that would be better. Depending on what part of your disability is making you unable to work I am sure that could be fixed. For example a wheelchair could help! My point is that you do have a choice, even if it’s very understandably hard to think that”
Remy’s shoulders were shaking. Logan gently placed his hand on top of their bony shoulder. Every vein was visible through their light skin.
At just the hint of his touch they flinched away. They stumbled up from the bench and took a few steps away. They looked at him with reddened eyes.
“No. No. Girl you- you just don’t get it! That’s all!” They spat out, their voice was shaky as well “You haven’t like lived with me. Once you or Remus o-or anyone spends enough time with me you’ll realize what an annoying overemotional burden I am! An-and then I’ll get thrown out! Okay!? So-so it’s not really- I don’t actually have a choice ‘cause I’ll just get thrown out. Virgil is the only who will ever bother to deal with me for this long! ‘cause he loves me! And no one else will love me like he does. S-so just shut up!”
Logan stood up as well and took an unsure step towards them. They looked so weak, as if a single push from the wind would make them crumble. 
“It’s okay. I hear what you are saying” Logan assured.
“An-and it’s like- Virgil needs me! And I need him! That’s like how it works! I can’t just leave him! What if- who will calm him down from his panic attacks?! And if I leave what if he gets s-so upset and like anxious he hurts himself! He’s said there was a chance he would!! I can’t risk it! I have to stay! He needs me! I-I need- I can’t- I can’t leave”
Logan nodded along “It’s okay. I understand. I understand”
“You don’t! You’re a idiotic bitch! I hope all your stupid fucking ties get destroyed in the washer!” Remy was close to yelling.
“Harsh but I see your point. To be honest everything you have said has made me even more worried. From my experience a relationship shouldn’t make you feel this way! It shouldn’t make you come up with reasons to stay! It shouldn’t hurt you!” Logan reached out to comfort them once more. “I promise it shouldn’t hurt”
“It’s not hurting me! YOU are hurting me!”
Logan was taken aback. He didn’t know what to say. His arms moved to hang helplessly along his sides. Remy opened their mouth to say something more but then
“Hey uh what’s going on? Are you roleplaying a death match?” Remus stood in the entrance to the building. He glanced between the two of them.
“This idiot is trying to destroy my relationship!” Remy exclaimed.
“While it is not my place to explain the full situation without their permission I can assure you that I am merely worrying for their mental and physical health and I am unsure if their relationship is good for them from what I’ve heard” Logan explained.
Remus barely even hesitated before moving in front of Remy. He moved his arms out and let them lean against him to catch their breathe, like he was a human shield protecting them from Logan. 
Logan hadn’t seen Remus angry before and he didn’t look fully enraged, but there was a hint of anger in eyes as he sneered at him.
“Well I’m sorry Loganson but not every relationship is totally perfect and works without any arguments like you and your wife relationship apparently does!” He spat out.
“I can assure you that me and my wife’s relationship hasn’t been argument free but that doesn’t mean I have ever even thought about insulting her like Remy’s boyfriend seemingly ha-”
“You’re not Remy!” Remus snapped “You’re a guy who dresses like a 40 year old math teacher who is losing the children in the divorce! Leave them alone!” 
Remy was bordering on cowering behind Remus. Their whole body seemed to shake as a few tears spilled down their cheeks. They met Logan’s eyes.
“If the bullshit you’re saying is true, which it like isn’t but if it was that- that means I’ve spent my whole life being abused” They forced out through tears “How can you Ever you expect me to live with that?”
Logan didn’t have an answer to that. He watched on as Remus placed his hands on Remy’s shoulders and gently guided them to turn away. He bonked their foreheads together and wiped their tears away.
“C’mon beanie-boo I can take you to the amusement park to cheer you up! Or we can find some lsd and get high so you can hallucinate beating the shit out of the stinky Log guy!” Remus exclaimed as they walked away.
A headache began to form in Logan’s head as he slumped back down on the bench. He stared out at the nearly empty parking lot. He didn’t understand what he did wrong. 
He wished he could talk to Virgil. He wished he could see him eye to eye and chew him out for ever making Remy feel like a burden, for ever making them feel trapped. A part of him wanted to punch him.
He was so zoned out into the overthinking he didn’t realize how much time was passing until Janus got out from his therapy session. As soon as Jan saw his boyfriend he let up into a shining smile and hurried over to him.
“Hi dear! Aww did you miss me so much you had to come pick me up! How charming!” Janus hesitated before kissing Logan on the lips. It still made him all giggly.
Normally seeing him so giddy would have made Logan overabundant with happiness....but now all he could think about was if he should tell Janus about Remy’s situation or not. They were friends right? Could it help? Would they listen to their friend?
Logan’s head hurt so bad. None of it made sense. There was no logical answer. How Janus reacted could make everything worse. He didn’t want to ruin everything more than he already had.
“Darling? Are you feeling alright? Has something happened?” Janus asked while taking his hand.
“I....I....” Logan looked over to you.
Logan: “I am so sorry to do this but do you have any idea what to do? The human emotion and it’s reactions are so illogical I don’t- I don’t understand- I don’t know what to do. I’m sorry- Should I tell Janus about the suspected abuse or should I lie?”
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To Boldly Go, Ch 2
co-written with @ending-with-stars , based on the star trek au by @luftballons99​! 
Chapter Title: Universal Translator Rating: T for Tim’s Flirting Pairing: jonmartin, jonmartim if you squint, pre-relationship Read on AO3: here
“-and once you’ve collected the relevant samples from Ceti Alpha 6, we have readings from Ceti Alpha 4 that we need you to investigate. We’ll be sending the full mission breakdown shortly.” Admiral Elias Bouchard droned on the viewscreen of the bridge. Most of the bridge crew had tuned him out several minutes ago, though one of the navigators had gone suspiciously glassy-eyed, but Jon sat straight-backed in the captain’s chair, paying rapt attention “as befits the captain of a vessel when receiving orders from a superior officer, Commander Stoker.” 
Tim, for what it was worth, thought Admiral Bouchard just liked the sound of his own voice. Literally all of this could have been sent in a single message, but no, they had to sit like good little Starfleet officers while Admiral Monotone slowly bored them all to death. He made a face at Sasha, who, sadly, was sitting within sight of the video call and could do nothing but purse her lips against her laughter. She turned the slightest bit and flipped him off so Admiral Bouchard couldn’t see. He grinned and made more faces and lewd gestures, trying to get her to crack. 
He realized too late that the vidcall had ended and the entire bridge was staring at him right as he stuck his tongue in between his first and middle fingers held in the shape of a ‘V.’ 
“Mr. Stoker, are you quite finished?” Captain Sims asked, his face the picture of Vulcan stoicism - if not for the tiniest twitch of his left eyebrow that Tim knew to mean suppressed annoyance. (He wasn’t allowed to tell you what it meant when Jon’s right eyebrow twitched.)
Tim grinned. “Why, did you want a turn, Captain? Commander James is about to crack, I just know it. Can you cross your eyes? That might get her to laugh.” 
Sasha failed to turn a snort into a cough. “Tim!” 
“Sasha!”
“Commander Stoker, if you could cease distracting Commander James, we have work to do,” Jon cut in. He turned to the helmswoman, “Lieutenant Rosie, plot a course for Ceti Alpha 6, warp 3 when ready.” The pilot nodded and tried her best to hide her smile as she turned to the controls, her back to the Captain. The bridge quieted at the Captain’s chastisement, but Tim was still bored and feeling lucky. 
“Captain Tightpants is at it again, Sasha, what are we to do?” he said in Romulan. 
“Ooh, I don’t know, Tim, why don’t you say that again in a language I actually speak?” Sasha replied sarcastically in Latin. 
“Just because you decided to learn a dead language to flex on a professor doesn’t mean we all did,” Tim said in Vulcan. 
“I will not hesitate to court martial you both for insubordination,” Jon interrupted in Federation Standard. 
“Do you think he knows Japanese?” Sasha said in Japanese. 
“Yes, Lieutenant Commander James, I understand Japanese,” Jon responded, again in Federation Standard. 
“He’s such a spoilsport. How’s your Swahili?” Tim switched to Swahili, ignoring Jon entirely. 
“Tim, I literally taught you both Swahili after you begged for a month and Jon didn’t want to be left out, remember?” Sasha responded in Klingon, the harsh syllables a contrast to the Japanese from before. 
“Klingon was the second language I learned as a child, Commander James. Please return to your work and cease these childish games, both of you,” Jon cut in, still in Federation Standard. 
“Oooh, he’s starting to use his special Captain-y voice, Sasha, how am I supposed to concentrate now?” Tim asked in Risan. 
“Again with the languages I don’t know,” Sasha singsonged in Swahili again, fiddling with the controls at her station. 
“I started teaching you Risan!” Tim switched to Swahili as well. 
“Yeah, but you started with the swear words!” 
“Sorry to interrupt, but I really need the Captain’s signatures on these,” came a voice by the turbolift. 
Everyone on the bridge, no longer pretending to work, turned to face Dr. Martin Blackwood, standing awkwardly with a PADD in one hand and a stylus in another. He balked under the attention, gaze darting between Jon, Tim, and Sasha. 
“You speak Swahili?” Sasha asked. 
“Y-yeah. I needed a third language to apply for Starfleet medical, why?” Martin responded, still looking nervous. 
“A third language?” Jon asked, and, if the slight widening of his eyes was any indicator, immediately regretted it. 
“I speak Polish as well.” He replied, this time in Standard, “I learned it to impress my mum, but - er, well, she just criticized my accent,” Martin chuckled, but it fell flat as he fiddled with the stylus. 
Tim grinned at Martin with half-lidded eyes. “Oooh, I don’t know Polish! Wanna teach me, Dr. Blackwood? I’m a quick study, I promise. All my professors said I have a gift for languages... a talented tongue, if you will.” He wiggled his eyebrows as a light blush spread across Martin’s cheeks. 
Jon cleared his throat. “I think we’ve wasted enough of Dr. Blackwood’s time. The PADD, if you will, Dr. Blackwood.”
Martin jumped a little at being addressed. “Right! Yes, sorry, of course, h-here you go, Captain.”  
It wasn’t until after Jon signed the PADD and Martin headed back into the turbolift when Tim spoke again. 
“I bet Dr. Blackwood could pick up a Vulcan…" he paused, "phrase or two easily enough, what do you think Captain?” 
“Tim!”
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Text
Under the Moonlight
i am on a dnf HIGH rn so here’s this. sorry if it sucks i wrote it over the span of like 10 minutes while listening to heat waves on repeat. this is kinda weird cause i went with the knight!dream and king!george au but made it younger cjxksk
;;;
“Can I go now?” 
“George, you know that is not how you speak to your father.” George rolled his eyes. 
“May I be excused, your majesty?” He asked sarcastically. 
“Yes, you may be excused.” George stood up and left the room, anxious to get out of there. He had to have meetings with his parents every week, and every week they got increasingly boring. He still was years away from being king, so there was no reason to have to study everything about it constantly. 
“Hey, how was the meeting?” George stopped in his tracks, seconds away from running into his best friend. 
“You scared the crap out of me, Clay,” he said, but he was laughing. “It was boring, as always. You know how it is.” Clay nodded.
“You wanna go for a walk? It’s pretty late now, we could see the stars.” George glanced up at the taller boy, and smiled. 
“Great, let’s go.” The two headed in the direction of the nearest exit, joking around the whole way. Clay was the son of a knight at the palace, destined to be one when he was an adult. George being the prince, the two had grown up together, best friends since practically birth. George did everything with him, he was the closest friend he had. 
They reached the exit, and began their trek through the garden to the field on the hill about half a mile away. There was a tree positioned almost perfectly, allowing shade during the day but still space to see the night sky. 
“Tell me why I agreed to come out here with you again?” George teased, growing tired even though the walk wasn’t that far. 
“George," Clay pretended to be offended. “It’s because you love me,” he joked, playfully shoving George aside. 
“Oh ha ha, you wish I did,” George responded, earning a laugh from Clay. George loved his laugh, even though it kind of sounded like a tea kettle. George loved a lot of things about Clay, like his sandy hair in the moonlight and the way his eyes sparkled in the sun. Wait, what? George thought. Why am I thinking about my best friends eyes? 
“Georgie, come on, you’re so slow,” Clay said, pulling George from his thoughts. 
“Shut up, you’re an idiot,” George replied eloquently. 
“Very creative, George. I must say, your insults have really come a long way.” George lightly punched Clay on the shoulder, and there his laugh was again. It was a comforting sound, it always had been. 
At last, they reached the top of the hill, and the two laid down in the grass side by side, gazing at the sky. 
“Hey, that one kind of looks like you,” George said, pointing at a particular section of stars. 
“What’s that supposed to mean?” 
“It looks like a pile of shit,” George said, unable to contain his smile. 
“You’re an absolute idiot,” Clay replied. 
“I know, but you still love me.”
“Yeah, I do.” George glanced at Clay, his voice suddenly quiet. 
“You alright?” he asked, worriedly. Clay took a second to respond. 
“Uh, yeah, I’m alright.” He coughed, and George leaned back over to look at the stars. And then, after a moment, “George?” 
“Yeah?” 
“Do you ever just think about life? And how we really only get to live once?” 
“Don’t start getting emotional about YOLO on me now,” George joked, but the look on Clay’s face shut him up. “What’s up, Clay?” 
“I just can’t stop thinking about how this is it, I’ll never be this age again. We only get one chance to live, one chance to really make it count.” Clay turned to face George, and their eyes met. “I can’t stop thinking about us, George.”
“What about us?” George’s voice was impossibly quiet. It was then he noticed that their faces were close, really close. 
“You know what I mean.” George could feel Clay’s breath on his face, he could taste it. 
“I don’t,” he replied. 
“Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed,” Clay said. George’s eyebrows scrunched together in confusion. What hadn’t he noticed? “Come on, George. You don’t notice it when I stare at you a little longer than normal, how I’m always closer to you, how I always have been-” As if finally realizing that George had no idea what he was talking about, Clay stopped. “You really don’t get it, do you?” George shook his head. Clay got up, breaking the moment, and began walking away. 
“Clay, where are you going?” George called out, scrambling to get up. 
“George, I’m sick of living a lie.” George didn’t have time to ask what on earth he meant before Clay was taking his face in his hands and slamming their lips together. George froze for a second before responding, pushing back against Clay’s. He didn’t even think about what this meant, only the fact that his lips were on Clay’s and oh my god this is amazing. After a moment, Clay pulled away.  
“Do you get it now?” George nodded, unable to form a coherent thought after what just happened. “I’m in love with you, George. I always have been, all along. I wasn’t going to tell you because I didn’t want to ruin our friendship, but I couldn’t hold back anymore. I want to be yours, George, and I want you to be mine.” George’s heart was pounding. He didn’t know what was happening, why Clay was confessing, or how he felt about it. Sure, he had always had a special bond with Clay, but that didn’t mean he liked him, right? But the kiss, he thought. The kiss was definitely something he needed to think about. 
“Uh. . .” George started, but he didn’t even know where he was going. Clay looked at him again, and then sighed. 
“I’m sorry,” Clay said, before turning around and running back to the castle, leaving George on the hill under the moonlight.
~~
Two days later, George was still pretty shocked. He hadn’t done anything, barely paying attention to his classes and skipping meals. He also hadn’t talked to Clay, which was affecting him the most. George had never gone longer than a day without seeing him, let alone talking to him. 
“George, are you and Clay okay? Normally you guys are joined at the hip.” As if reading his thoughts, George turned from his position on the bench in the gardens to see his friend, Nick, standing a couple feet away. 
“Er, yeah, we’re fine.” Even George knew that wasn’t believable. 
“Just tell me, George. This isn’t like you guys.” George sighed, as much as he didn’t want to, he knew Nick could help him. 
“Clay confessed. . . to liking me. And he kissed me.” Nick didn’t even look fazed. 
“So, what’s the issue?”
“What do you mean, what’s the issue? He kissed me!” 
“Well yeah, you guys have been like fake dating for forever.” George’s jaw dropped. “Don’t tell me you haven’t realized it yet.” George just continued staring. “Oh my God, George!” 
“Yeah, we’ve always been super close, and sure it’s crossed my mind, but I don’t like him, do I?” George was extremely confused. 
“Did you like it when he kissed you?” George thought about it for a second.
“Yeah, I did. His lips were soft.” After he said it, George mentally slapped himself. “Oh my god! I love Clay!” Nick just rolled his eyes. 
“I think he’s in his room, you guys need to talk.” George nodded, and sprinted off in the direction of Clay’s room. His mind was racing, what was he even going to say? Whatever, he would figure it out when he got there. He reached the door, and stood to catch his breath for a moment. He stood up straight to knock on the door, but it opened to Clay before he could.
“George? What are you doing here?” 
“I need to talk to you, Clay.” Clay nodded, and the two walked back into the room. 
“I know what this is about, George, and I just wanted to say that I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that and I shouldn’t have told you, I’ve screwed everything up-” 
“Clay, shut up.” The blonde looked at him, slightly surprised, before closing his mouth. “I should be the one apologizing. I hadn’t realized it then, but I love you Clay. Just like you said, I always have. Please, forgive me, I didn’t know what to do-” George was interrupted by the pure bliss of Clay’s lips on him, and instead of wasting a second like last time, George immediately melted into the kiss. It was soft, and it was perfect. George could get used to this. 
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justkeeptrekkin · 4 years
Text
Wrote a little Good Omens/Star Trek crossover
.... for the awesome @comicgeekery​. Thanks for the inspo!
5th April, 2063
“--historic day for humankind. For this is truly the first time that we have been able to refer to ourselves as such with the certainty that there is, in fact, life elsewhere in the perceivable universe.”
It’s a balmy, spring afternoon in London when Crowley rolls out of bed and turns on the television. Honestly, he’s fairly used to ignoring the news; it’s only on because he’d left it on channel one last night for a nature documentary that he and Aziraphale have been watching about whales. That’s why he pays very little attention to the picture on his projector screen.
“-- quite extraordinary. It seems as if this was all triggered by Zefram Cochrane's attempt at warp-speed flight, and er-- just coming in now, these beings call themselves Vulcans, Jane, and-- aha-- well, they’re not quite saying that they come in peace, but if our translators are correct, they’re offering us a long and prosperous life--”
Crowley slams his mug on the counter. He’s run out of coffee. He could very easily conjure up some more now, right here, but miracle-coffee is never as good as the nice Costa Rican stuff he buys. Or, more accurately, that Aziraphale buys for him, because he’s just that much of a kept man, apparently.
A knocking at the door. A light rapping that Crowley recognises immediately, and it would usually make him humiliatingly happy except for the fact that he’s just woken up from a--
He checks the time on the TV screen.
 -- from a two week nap, he hasn’t got any coffee, and the TV is blabbering on far too loudly. Waving a hand at said TV until it is muted, Crowley slides over to the door, dressing gown belt flapping about against his leg, and opens it with a flourish.
 Aziraphale has that bright-eyed, bushy-tailed look about him: never a good sign. “Crowley--”
Crowley plants a brief kiss on his cheek, then immediately retreats back into the kitchen, shoulders heavy with sleep. “I’m going back to sleep, angel. World’s too loud still.”
”Crowley--” the sound of the door slamming, very purposefully, Crowley thinks, as Azriaphale continues: “I have been trying to call you all morning. I thought you left your phone on vibrate for such things.”
 “I did. Didn’t I?” Crowley scratches his head. He’s sure he’d changed the ring tone for Aziraphale’s phone number specifically so he’d wake up when only he called. “Apparently not, sorry Angel-- any news?”
He sees the way Aziraphale is rolling his eyes and flapping about when he turns back around from the kitchen with two mugs of tea. His hands are fiddling with each other in that excitable way that they do, a happy nervous way that he’s come to adore. Crowley hands him a cup. Aziraphale takes it with a pointed raise of his brow.
“Any -- any news? Really. You could not have asked a more absurd--”
At that point, apparently, he’s lost for words. More frustrated than Crowley realised, and so he begins to take Aziraphale’s bright eyes and bushy tail a little more seriously. Particularly when Aziraphale puts down the cup of tea of all things, and gestures to the television, one arm outstretched and gaze still fixed on Crowley.
The screen remains muted. However, Crowley gathers what Aziraphale is gesturing at fairly quickly. He’s so used to letting the news blend into the background, tired of feeling depressed by the human race -- especially with this World War III nonsense -- that he’d completely missed that something, actually, rather important has been happening.
It looks like the research base in San Francisco. Crowley knows only a little about this; as the angel who created a fair few of the stars in the sky, he takes interest when humans start pointing their big magnifying glasses at them. Zefram Cochrane, the inventor of warp-speed engines, and a few other important looking men (who may well be important, what does Crowley know? He hasn’t been paying attention) welcomes three people. People, except they’re not human. Humanoid, perhaps, but human? No. Crowley can spot an alien a mile off.
“Crikey,” he mutters, hovering in his sparse living room with his dressing gown open and tea steaming.
Aziraphale nods fervently.
“Which ones are these?”
“These are the Vulcans,” Aziraphale explains. “Do you remember? Our colleagues -- oh, I forget their names -- a few of our colleagues helped set up. Erm.” Aziraphale purses his lips. “Well, their version of Eden.”
“Something like Sha Ka Ray, if I remember,” Crowley mutters, unblinking as he watches one of the Vulcans raise their hand in a v-shape, the humans mimicking.
“That was it! Sha Ka Ree.”
They’re wearing long, heavy cloaks. Even expressions, but glints in their eyes, as if they are taking some professional enjoyment out of this. The humans, barely containing their own excitement -- and probably a good dose of apprehension. Human beings, finally meeting an alien species who could take them down a notch, teach the buggers a couple of things. Crowley and Aziraphale certainly never managed to, much as they’ve tried. Far too stubborn.
After a while of sitting and watching the proceedings-- the beginnings of a new, enterprising delegation-- Crowley gives a long exhale.
“Those bowl cuts are questionable.”
Stardate: 53459 (17th July 2269)
“What? Just give them a quick ring? Give the flagship of Starfleet’s exploratory expedition a cheeky call, just to check in? ‘Hello Enterprise, nice to meet you’?”
“Yes. Why, do you not think that they’d appreciate it?”
“It’s less that they won’t appreciate it and more that it might blow their tiny minds, Angel.”
“They’ve met plenty of extraordinary species by this point -- extraordinary by their standards, anyway. A call from us will be -- how do they put it -- ‘a walk in the park’--?”
“Not the point. That’s -- that’s actually the bit that I’m struggling with, here. What is the point, exactly? What are you aiming to achieve? You looking to freak them out or…?”
“Well, I thought perhaps we could… ah. Tell them who we are.”
Aziraphale looks at Crowley. Red hair tied up, ringlets around his face; silver eye-shadow; a black jumpsuit in the style of the Terran fashion that really leaves very little to the imagination, with cut-outs here and there all over his body. Legs crossed, foot bouncing impatiently, arms sprawled across the back of Aziraphale’s sofa. In his old bookshop, Crowley always sticks out like a sore thumb, and he’s always loved that about him.
He tilts his head. “Really,” he drawls, vaguely amused.
“Yes. Don’t you think it’s about time?”
“IIIII dunno…” Crowley sucks air through his teeth contemplatively. “Never ends very well. Tell humans that angels and demons roam their planet and they get all agitated. Don’t need to tell you that, you remember how much it traumatised dear old Hieronymous. Couldn’t stop painting us, the poor bastard.”
Aziraphale sighs. “Yes, well, that was different. That was almost a millennia ago, now.”
The bookshop is still just as dusty as it has ever been. Crowley has been urging him to at least install a proper computer -- one that will answer to him, rather than sitting there stupidly, looking like a brick. But he is quite happy with it as it is, especially when he has Crowley here, lounging about as he’s always done, draped across the furniture like he’s still wrapped around that apple tree. And drinking more wine than is good for them.
“Right so -- let’s just role-play this--” Crowley’s glass makes a decisive clink against the table, “-- we patch into their network. Right? I find their frequency and just, try and call from my PADD.”
“Yes,” he confirms, not liking his partner’s tone of voice.
“So then they answer, all, military-like and ready for some sort of diplomatic… situation.”
“Mm…”
Crowley’s leaning forward in his seat, gesticulating a enthusiastically. “They see us, they’re all, ‘oi, how did you get this number?’ and we’re all, ‘sorry, just thought we’d pop in and introduce ourselves, we’re your new neighbours,’” he wrinkles his nose mockingly, “‘Cept we’re not new at all, not really, we’ve been here since the dawn of time, but don’t worry too much about that’.”
“Well--”
“So they’re all, ‘ah, immortal beings from outer space!’ and we have to explain that, actually, we’re not really from space at all, we’re the ones who made space, and no, sorry, we’d love to patch you through to God, except She’s been a little busy for the past six thousand odd years, no can do, just got us boring old sods’.”
“Crowley, really. Don’t you think you’re being a little reductionist?”
“No.” Suddenly serious. “I don’t. They’re humans. They’re brilliant, but they’re also humans, which means they’re also thick as shit.”
Aziraphale purses his lips, electing to ignore the love of his life for this moment. Sitting up properly, linking his hands in his lap. “I think it’s time.”
“And what do you think they’ll do?”
“Perhaps it will bring about some new, interesting philosophy. About the nature of the universe, of the overlap between science and faith.”
Crowley’s brow quirks, yellow eyes staring, wide and disbelieving. “Some ‘new and interesting philosophy’? Books. You’re talking about books. You think you’ll get some nice literature out of this.”
Aziraphale flounders. “Well, that’s not exactly how I’d put it--”
Crowley scowls. But then, he’s taking out his PADD from his purse, making aggravated noises as his fingers fly across the screen.
“You’re doing it?” Aziraphale asks hopefully.
“Yes, yes. You got all happy as soon as you started talking about it and-- I was never really going to say no, was I? You know how pathetic I am by this point, surely.”
He’s not looking at him, but Aziraphale is gazing with those big, angel-eyes that Crowley’s told him he uses sometimes. They drive him insane, but he can’t help it, not when Crowley’s being so unintentionally romantic. “Oh, Crowley.”
“Shhhht. Stop. I’m not doing anything nice, I’m--”
“Not nice, I know.”
Aziraphale smiles serenely. Crowley’s scowl deepens, just as the PADD begins to ring.
The screen is propped up against a wine bottle, just in time for the image to reveal a man. A man in green and gold, sand-blonde hair swept back and a look of cautious curiosity in his hazel eyes. Behind his chair, a woman in red is leaning over the controls. The captain’s head is angled slightly, tilted as he seems to consider his situation -- consider the two strangers who have called their starship.
“Greetings, this is Captain Kirk of the Starship: Enterprise. To whom am I speaking?”
“Oh, how exciting,” Aziraphale whispers, nudging Crowley a little. Then, more loudly, “Greetings, Captain Kirk! My name is Aziraphale, and this is Crowley.”
Crowley sighs, seeming very put upon.
Aziraphale nudges him again. “Well! Don’t be rude, Crowley.”
“Yes, hello, how very nice to meet you,” he simpers accordingly.
“This is a secure line, gentlemen. How did you access our co-ordinates?”
“Ah, yep, sorry, my fault,” Crowley waves a hand. “I’m -- well, we’re, er… we can do stuff. Lots of stuff. He’ll explain later.”
He shoots Aziraphale a glare, which seems to be a warning that this could go horribly wrong. Aziraphale, ever the opportunist, elects to ignore this.
“That I shall,” Aziraphale adds, pointedly.
Kirk thinks. He thinks, sitting so still as he leans towards the monitor, that for a moment, Azirpahale thinks the screen has frozen. Then, turning his head to his right, he notes that he is talking to someone. A certain someone who then appears on screen, a royal blue shirt and hands clasped behind his back. A Vulcan. The two converse with a silent look.
Ah. Aziraphale knows that look very well. 
“Be that as it may,” Kirk continues, turning back to them, “it is technically a federal crime to trace Starfleet co-ordinates and to contact a ship without first organising an official meeting. That is, unless it is an emergency.”
“Oh, yes, I have heard of your ship’s adventures, captain,” Aziraphale rushes. He puts down his glass of wine. “You’ve done an awful lot of good, helping those in need.”
“We… do our best,” he says with a slow nod.
“Sorry. For the, er… illegal call,” Crowley says.
Another moment where both men share a glance. And then, the Vulcan in blue tilts an inquisitive chin.
“Sir, may I enquire as to the colour of your eyes? They do not appear to be contact lenses.”
It takes a moment for Crowley to realise that he’s the one being addressed. Then, “Ah! Bollocks. Forgot the sunglasses-- see Aziraphale, this is why we don’t call Starfleet when we’ve had two bottles of Rioja.”
“Awfully sorry, dear--”
The captain looks up at his colleague with a wry smile and a raised brow. “Spock, don’t you think it’s a little rude to as a stranger questions about their appearance?”
“A stranger who has made contact with Starfleet’s flagship outside of legal parameters.”
“Still, politeness can go a long way,” he adds with a smirk, and a look in his eyes that’s, quite frankly, obscene.
Crowley clears his throat. “To answer your question-- although, seems like they’re more interested in each other,” he says to Aziraphale as an aside, “- to answer your question, yeah, they’re real. Snake eyes. Unfortunate accident involving a bastard called Lucifer.”
A pause. The man named Spock tilts his head. Kirk leans forward in his seat.
“Lucifer, you say?”
At that, Crowley gives a wicked smile. Aziraphale sighs. This wasn’t exactly how he’d imagined this conversation starting.
Stardate: 51650 (9th May 2271)
“My point is -- my point is -- tribbles. Tribbles, now -- whose idea were those, then? Who thought they were a good idea? They’ve -- they’ve not got faces, they’ve not got hands or feet or paws or anything, just, little balls of fluff that just poof! Reproduce, until you’re up to your tits in furballs.”
“Now, tha’s what ah been tryna tell yeh, captain. And you mind what he’s saying, too, Lieutenant Uhura! I know you thought they’s adorable, but they’re terrors.”
“Pointless, they’re pointless. Don’t know what they were thinking of when they made tribbles, whoever they were.”
“Aye! See, straight from the mouth of an angel!”
“Er, former angel.”
”Them wee bastards’ve been cloggin’ up my ship’s engine, would ye believe?”
 “Our ship, Scotty.”
 “Oh. Well, o’course, captain… I didnae mean no disrespect, captain--”
 “In Russia--”
“I swear, if you’re about to say that Russia invented tribbles, Chekov, I’ll kick you out of this here bar faster than you can say Alabama Slammer.”
“Alright, now, Bones, it’s shore leave. He can say what he wants. We’re all here to relax. Isn’t that right, Spock?”
“Yeah, he sure looks relaxed there, Jim.”
“I am not accustomed to frequenting such establishments.”
“I would like to state, for the wecord, sir, that I was not going to say that Russia inwented tribbles.”
“I -- ah -- actually, I have a bit of a confession to make in that respect…”
“Angel. Please. Please don’t tell me that you’re… Christ, you didn’t…”
“You are the angel responsible for creating the tribble species?”
“You have a lot to answer for, Aziraphale.”
“It wasn’t intentional! Or, rather, the intention was to simply create a creature so lovely and adorable that no one could quite resist it. And, I suppose, what with evolution and how that may have changed their, erm, reproduction process…”
“You bastard.”
“Crowley -- for Heaven’s sake, it was simply an accident! You can hardly say that it’s worse than some of your creations.”
“I invented Luton airport. You invented the universe’s most irritating pest. Honestly, I figured some lower ranking demon had been the one to come up with it, but now I feel, sort of… betrayed.”
“Don’t say that! May I remind you that you are the one who came up with the M25? Which nearly destroyed the universe as we know it!”
“I beg your pardon? Would you care to rewind and just, explain that last bit, Aziraphale?”
“Oh -- er, it’s a long story.”
“A very long story that would mean another round. Angel, you are definitely bloody-well buying.”
Stardate: 43897 (24th November 2366)
“You know, when you said that you wanted to check-in with Picard and the team, this isn’t what I imagined.”
Their call isn’t immediately picked up. However, when it is, the first thing they see is a large barbershop quartet. They’re all wearing pink, candy-stripe suits and wicker hats. The bridge of the Enterprise looks much the same as it did under captain Kirk, if not for this barbershop quartet, and perhaps a few technological tweaks. And, of course, the current captain who sits in his chair, face in his hand.
“Er.” Crowley looks at Aziraphale, who looks back at Crowley. “This doesn’t look like a good time.”
“No, by all means,” Picard gestures to the screen, other hand still covering his face. “If you have any advice to offer, then I will happily take it.”
“What…” Aziraphale trails off, purses his lips. The, trying to affect something light and airy, “What seems to be the problem, captain?”
Picard looks over the edge of his hand. “Are you aware of the being that calls itself ‘Q’?”
He’s about to say that he isn’t -- perhaps Crowley knows this Q?-- but before they even have a moment to deliberate, the tallest of the barbershop quartet members steps forward from the throng and hops down the steps to Picard’s side. Dark eyes that have seen too much, brightened by mischief. And for a moment, there is the faintest flicker of recognition as he doffs his hat to the screen, leaning against Picard’s captain chair.
“Good day to you, gentlemen. Did you like my song?”
“No,” Picard says quite firmly. “Now, would you please leave and take your pestering elsewhere!”
Q tuts, rolls his eyes. Pokes his thumb in Picard’s direction. “He’s just grumpy because he hasn’t had his morning cup of Earl Grey.”
“You…”
It’s Crowley that says this. Leaning forward on Aziraphale’s sofa, snake pupils narrowing. And it’s then that Aziraphale realises that this is absolutely someone they know. He just can’t put his finger on it, whilst Crowley clearly has.
“You know him?” Picard says, with the smallest flicker of hope.
“Wait. Wait a second now,” Q points his finger at Crowley, frown deepening. He miracles his hat away, cradles his chin. “Now, we worked together a long time ago, didn’t we?”
That makes Aziraphale stare back at Crowley.
There’s some hesitance. “Oh. Sure, probably. Long time ago, now, wasn’t it? Who knows. Worked with lots of people.”
“No, no, no -- we did a lot of creating with each other. Some fun messing around you know?”
“Er. Not sure. Might have a different person in mind--”
And then those eyes widen. A wicked grin on his face, and Aziraphale can only imagine that this Q must be a demon.
That’s when Aziraphale finds himself standing on the bridge of the Enterprise. Jean-Luc Picard looking up at them despairingly, whilst the rest of his crew work as diligently as they can with a quartet serenading them. Data, notably, is working with the utmost focus, whilst Wharf looks like he’s two seconds away from ripping something in half bare-handed. Riker looks no more patient.
“Oh,” Aziraphale remarks. “You’ve -- you miracled us here!”
No use, Q is far too preoccupied by Crowley. Pointing a finger in recognition. “You’re Crawly! I remember you! Oh, we got up to some good stuff together, huh? It’s been a long time since I’ve seen any of the guys from the Milky Way neighbourhood. You guys really like to keep to yourselves, I never understood it. Totally obsessed with your ‘Eden’ as if the rest of us don’t exist.”
“You o know him,” Picard says with some accusation.
Crowley looks, to put it lightly, a little embarrassed. Hands sliding in his pockets and averting his snake-eyed gaze, “Yup. Long time ago. Hung out with a different crowd, then, you got to understand…”
“Qasphiel.” The name bubbles up on Aziraphale’s tongue from nowhere; memories of a gaggle of angels who called themselves the Q Continuum, who were cast out for blasphemy. Creating your own little gang was never something that The Almighty did like. “You’re Qasphiel. You know, I do remember you, now that I think about it.”
Q looks Aziraphale up and down once. “I don’t remember you. Were you one of the more straight-laced types? Yeah, we wouldn’t have hung out, much.”
“Excuse me? I… I’ll have you know, that since then I’ve become quite the rebel--”
“What’re you doing here, Qasphiel?” Crowley interrupts with some exhaustion. “Coming in here and getting on everyone’s nerves -- believe me, I get that it’s fun for a while, but, come on. You must be a bit knackered of it now, no matter what the others are getting you to do.”
“Ah, but I don’t work on anyone’s terms any more. Not even the Continuum’s,” Q smiles smugly.
“That’s awfully nice, but the alternative is buggering off, so the rest of us can get on with our lives.”
He narrows his eyes at Crowley. “What’s in it for me?”
A weary sigh. And Aziraphale considers just how kind Crowley has always been, even if he doesn’t always see it. “Listen. How about -- what about a catch-up. Grab a drink on some planet in the Omicron Delta quadrant. Talk about old times? Big Bang and all that?”
“Ah yes,” Q sighs. Then, apparently distracted, “You know, I don’t recall the yellow eyes,” he gestures to his own. “The demonic thing. Did you fall with Lucy and the others, Crawly? Bad luck.”
“That’s a story that needs telling over a drink.”
There’s a long moment -- too long a moment -- where Q considers this offer. Picard is leaning back in his seat and watching the interaction over steepled fingers. Even Data has stopped to listen, head tilted in interest.
Then, Q shrugs.
“Alright. Let’s go.”
And with that, Picard’s bridge is once again empty of divine or immortal beings. Or barbershop quartets. It is extraordinarily quiet.
Picard lets out a long exhale. “Never a dull day.”
 Stardate: unknown
Three suns set upon the horizon of Alpha Centauri. Palm trees wave in the breeze; planted there a few decades ago when this planet first became populated by humanoid species. The air tastes like salt and smells like ozone. A burning orange sky, a deep purple scattering of stars directly above them. Small, clay houses, their shutters closed in the late afternoon heat. Mountain ranges in the distance, seeming so small from their little balcony.
“Total tourist trap,” Crowley mutters into his glass of Romulan ale.
Aziraphale stifles a burp. “Sorry?”
“Look at it. Tourist trap.” Crowley crosses his legs on the railing of the balcony. “All of it. Built like a Terran city, as well. Palm trees and all that bollocks. Shops and restaurants, Christ, it couldn’t get more human if you tried. When will they stop colonising and just learn to appreciate?”
“Mmm.”
“Remember when we could come here and not be harassed by people selling sunglasses? When it was just a big, ol’ expanse?”
“Empty,” Aziraphale remarks. Then, wide eyed, “Hot.”
They watch the first sun dip behind the mountain ranges. The Romulan ale burns Crowley’s throat nicely.
“D’you ever wonder what it would’ve been like?”
Aziraphale takes a slow, indulgent breath. And Crowley knows that he understands what he’s asking. “Sometimes. But I think it’s better that we didn’t run away. We did save the universe, after all.”
“I know, obviously. But do you ever wonder what would have happened if we hadn’t?”
Of course he does. They both have. Images of a war-torn universe, of all of this: gone.
Crowley drops his hand, finds Aziraphale’s. Their fingers link, and they absorb the light of three, alien stars.
65 notes · View notes
bangtan-madi · 4 years
Text
546 Days Without You — Ten: Day 300
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Pairing — Seokjin x Reader
Tags — boyfriend!Seokjin, older brother!Yoongi, producer/songwriter!MC, military au (ish), idol au (ish)
Genre — fluff, angst
Word Count — 2.7k
Summary — Kim Seokjin is your entire world, and that world falls apart the moment he and your older brother Yoongi are conscripted into the South Korean military.
Part — 10 / 15
Warnings — none
A/N — I am so sorry for the long wait for this update, guys. Same old story; all work, no play. Hope it's made up for the absence somehow. Thanks for sticking with me <3
Previous — Next
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The roar of the crowds grows louder and louder as showtime gets closer. Fans pour in for hours, elated and ecstatic to see the boys in person. Singing and dancing, cheers and laughter, all forms of joy fill Olympic Stadium. As the time grows nearer, you can feel the auditorium start to tremble under your feet. It's far from the first time you've been this close to a show—this has been part of your life for the last eight years—but being such an integral part of it gives the night a whole other feeling.
The only way you can describe it is pure wonder.
Peering down to see the massive crowds finding their seats, ensuring that you remain hidden behind the large stage lighting on the highest balcony, you force yourself to take a deep breath and hold it. It's the one thing that's worked consistently through the last year, and it's the one thing Seokjin's told you on a regular basis. 
"If your breath is off, you'll feel it," he'd repeat over and over on every call. And then he'd follow that up with a silly joke and force you to practice breathing with him. 
To which you'd always give him an eye-roll and sarcastic quip—while practicing with him, of course. It's his way of showing how much he cares. He'd talked you through plenty of moments of self-doubt.
"Remember: Sing for yourself first—the rest of the world can follow suit."
But the shoulder you leaned on that particular night was that of your brother. He'd been promoted recently and was given similar freeing privileges, so you no longer had to rely on such an archaic way of communication.
"Are you nervous for tomorrow?" he'd asked the night before, voice soft and timbre as you remember.
You'd tried to make it seem as if the nerves were gone, but even with the slight tremble in your voice, you could tell that he knew right away. You might've been able to fool most people that you were conquering the hoard of butterflies in your stomach, but Yoongi reads you like an open book.
"And don't lie."
"It's my first live show," you explained. "We've been practicing for the tour for months. I've been nailing my singing and rapping. All of us are spent, and tour hasn't even begun...but we're also the most excited we've been in a while. It feels like we haven't been with the Army in so, so long. Like years have passed."
"So you're torn, aren't you?"
Even though you knew he couldn't see you, you nodded your agreement. "I never thought I'd be so excited to tour with them. At first, I was horrified at the idea. And then I saw the benefits and thought it could be fun. Everyone's been so supportive and helpful. The boys and the team have guided me through all the parts I'd only seen from the sidelines. Now that I'm in the middle of it...I feel both honored and thrilled and terrified and nervous."
Yoongi chuckled softly at the confession. "That's awfully honest of you. Normally I have to pry it out of you."
"What can I say? I've spent an ungodly amount of time with Jimin. Like, even more than before. I'm now a professional feeler."
Your brother's laughter grew in volume, then fades as he insisted, "Well, your feelings are totally valid. The older I get, the more I realize that it's both normal and fine to have conflicting emotions. You can be both excited and scared. You can be nervous and thrilled. You can both be impatient to begin and scared of it, too. That's life. That's the human condition."
"Even if I feel sick to my stomach?" you asked with a chortle. 
"Especially if. We paint our lives as two distinct sides and tell ourselves that we must be in one or the other. We're happy. We're sad. We're scared. We're delighted. There are no in-betweens. But here's the thing: life is not binary. There's no black and white, and you have to learn to be okay with being all of these things at once. It's a lot, but it's the greatest part of life."
"And the worst," you added.
Yoongi laughed, "Well, that's part of it, too!"
You let out a huff of air and felt the uneasiness in your body settle down as his words hit home. "When did you get so wise, Yoongles?"
"I've always been wise. You're just now enlightened enough to see it."
Thinking back on that conversation, you can't help but chuckle and bring your attention back to the moment. The night is unraveling perfectly. All of the work and time and money that's been invested in this tour, especially the first night, is paying off. For once, the universe is on your side, and all is going according to plan. In a few moments, you'll begin the trek down to the stage interior and begin the final prep for the performance.
But in this moment, you stand with arms braced against the metal railing, gazing from the Army, to the stage, and up to the periwinkle sky. The lights are twinkling as bombs light up across the tens of thousands, and the horizon wraps around the stadium like a blanket. The weather is clear and the stars are beginning to show themselves. 
It brings a smile to your face when you realize you're comfortable with the medley of feelings in your chest, and that you find yourself more than willing to face the night with them.
Straightening up, you raise your hand to catch the wind as a breeze sweeps down from the clouds and into the crowds. Your smile grows, and a joyful sound builds in your chest. And for the first time, your heartbeat quickens not from fear alone, but from excitement.
Bounding down the stairs, two at a time, you sneak around the Army and make your way back to the boys. Most of them are already dressed for the first performance, with a couple finishing touches being added to their hair and makeup. Jimin catches your gaze first, forever the worrisome one. You give a reassuring smile, and the tiny line between Jimin's brows dissipates. 
Taehyung pulls you towards the stylist. "You need to get ready," he orders with a playful smile. "We have the first couple of songs, then you're up."
Nodding once, you turn towards your flashy tour garb that hangs on the rack to the side. "Got it."
"Are you ready, [Y/n]-ie?" Hoseok inquires.
You give the now-senior member two thumbs-ups, grin widening. "I got this. We got this!"
Namjoon ruffles your hair as he passes, surprised and thrilled with your eagerness. To which Jungkook shouts, "Let's get it!"
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After the vocal line's song comes to an end, and the cheers begin to fade, you're ushered to the lift under the stage. Jimin holds your hand along the way, and he's the one that helps you up the step and onto the platform. Jungkook hands you your sparkly, white mic and leaves his tattooed hand on your trembling fingers as reassurance.
Hoseok adjusts your matching earpieces so that they stay in place, and Taehyung places a stabilizing hand between your shoulder blades. Namjoon's eyes lock with yours, and even though no words are said, the nod he gives you says everything.
Focusing on a calm exhale, you give a thumbs up to the members. As they visibly relax and back away from the platform, you raise your thumb towards the crew. A lever is pulled, and the gears in the lift groan to life. You crouch down as the platform begins to rise, letting your eyes flutter shut in one final moment of tranquility.
White noise. It's the only sound you can hear through the muffling of your earpieces. Not even technology can block out the cheers and elations of Army. The pitter-patter of your heart causes the smile to spread across your face.
Opening your eyes, the platform halts at the top of the stage. You straighten your legs as a rush of adrenaline pumps through your body. The sudden resurgence of energy has you blasting out onto the stage, as perfect as all those days of practice could be. Except this time, you have a sea of lights that play against the dark.
The live track begins to play, and you strut to your on-stage cue. Lifting the microphone to your lips, you begin to sing. From the very first note, the crowd goes wild. It's everything you could've dreamed and more. The way they immediately sing along, the way they dance along with you despite not knowing all the choreography, the way they cheer for someone who's as new to this stage as a trainee. Their support lifts you and carries you along your well-practiced routine.
The melody flows from the first verse to the chorus, then into the second verse. Not once does your voice crack. Not once does your memory falter. Not once do your feet tangle under you. If ever there were a perfect performance, especially with the high note in the bridge before the final chorus, it was this night in Seoul.
You know Seokjin and Yoongi would be proud as hell.
When the song comes to an end, the mic drops from your lips and your head rolls back. You take a moment to let the sight around you imprint in the back of your mind. Every part of this first performance, you want to remember it forever. Even the bittersweet fact that your brother and lover are far away from such an impactful moment.
Tears well up in your eyes as the lights fade. The backup dancers rush off stage, and you're pulled with them. You hadn't expected the sadness to hit you this soon after performing; by the time you're backstage with the members, your sight is blurry and your lips quiver.
"Whoa, whoa." Hoseok is over at your side in an instant, and Jimin cups your face between his palms. "You did great! Why are you crying?"
"You killed it," Jungkook agrees with a bunny-esque grin.
You shake your head fervently, brushing away the tears with the back of your hand. "It's not that," you murmur, and Taehyung wraps you in a back-hug. "It's not that at all."
That's all you have to say, and the others fall silent with understanding. Namjoon gives your shoulder a squeeze, and Jungkook offers you a bottled water. 
"Drink slowly and sit down," the leader orders softly. "Hoseok and I are up next, but take it easy with the maknaes for a second, okay?"
Nodding your acceptance, you watch as the two oldest skip out towards the stage for another wild and passionate performance. Jimin grabs your hand and, threading his fingers through yours, ushers you towards the break area backstage. The music and crowds fade away, replaced by quiet.
Jimin kneels down in front of you, while Taehyung wraps you in a side hug. Jungkook grabs a small snack from the side table and insists you get some food into your system so the shakiness stops.
"We got you," the youngest of the three chides. 
You give the brunet a grateful expression and take the chips from his grasp. It takes all your energy to focus on the three around you, in this moment, and not on the two that are absent. It'd taken you by surprise as you left the stage; you thought you'd come to terms with Seokjin and Yoongi being so far away. But after performing the song that poured out your emotions, you feel raw and exposed and drained. It's near impossible to tear your mind away.
However, eventually, you're calm enough to drink and eat a little, much to their relief. Blinking away the remnants of your tears, you heave a short breath and murmur, "Sorry...I don't know why I got caught up in that again."
Jimin's thumbs brush across your cheeks. "Don't be. It's always emotional performing a song for the first time. We should have warned you."
"And one of the members is always crying after a show," Jungkook chuckles. "So don't beat yourself up."
Taehyung adds, "It's almost always one of us."
The comments cause you to laugh, and the tension in the room dissipates. One of the producers pops her head through the door and says, "Jin's recording is up next. Are you still okay to go on stage?"
The boys turn to you, and you nod assuredly. Standing up, you drag them with you. The gentle squeeze your fingers give lets them know of your choice. They follow you without question.
It’s time to face the music.
And that’s what you keep telling yourself, time and time again, as the stage stands dauntingly ahead. Curtains and props rise up around you. Bombs light up the arena with their iridescent glow. Armys chant and sing, bringing your mind back to the present moment.
Despite the wondrous things you have seen the first day of the tour, despite being surrounded by five of your closest friends–men you consider your brothers, despite the great adventure that lies in front of you, the only thing consuming your mind at this moment is him. What you wouldn’t do to have him beside you, what you wouldn’t trade to thread your fingers through his, what you wouldn’t sacrifice to hear his angelic voice harmonizing with yours.
Then you hear it. 
As if from a hazy dream, somewhere in the fog that is your mind you recognize the vocals that begin to play. Unlike most of the performance, this particular piece is a recording. You’ve lost count how many times you’d watched it, in your darkest moments when the heartbreak in your chest becomes too much to bear.
As you glance to the side, to the gigantic screen at the back of the stage, you see Seokjin’s face exactly as your memory promised. This recording isn’t one from a music video or short film, nor is it from the tour or live show from earlier last year. No, the Jin singing now is barefaced and adorned in an ocean blue sweater with an image of RJ on the chest. A guitar in hand, he sings in the privacy of your home, the one you shared for almost two years before he left. It’s intimate and beautiful and goofy, everything you love to death about the man himself.
And it brings a smile to your face when you hear the song he wrote for you.
A gentle hand grasps yours as the song nears the second chorus. Jimin stands at your side, a look of cautious worry on his makeup-enhanced features. He doesn’t say a word, but his expression tells you what he would say if the microphones weren’t turned on.
Are you okay? Are you holding up? Do you need a moment before we go on again?
Giving a small nod of reassurance, you squeeze the hand of your closest friend in an attempt to reassure him. Jimin nods once and rests his chin on your shoulder. Both of your gazes shift back to the screen, back to Seokjin, back to one of several people you miss more than the world.
You’ve made it 300 days thus far, but it breaks your heart when you remember that you still have 246 days yet to bear. No one should have to stay away from the one they love for 546 days.
At that moment, you pray even harder for the strength and courage to make it 246 more days.
But until then, you’ll keep repeating those six words over and over until your fear disappears.
It’s time to face the music. 
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Taglist — @joyful-jimin​​​, @gracehiii​​, @live-2-fangirl​​, @rjsmochii​​​, @btsnatalena​
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afterspark-podcast · 3 years
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My Little Pony/Transformers: Friendship in Disguise, Part 2 Transcript
[This can also be found on AO3!]
[Stinger]
O: [laughing]
S: Like, I told you about this before.  You- you know my reasoning, you know where it comes from.
[Intro Music]
O: Welcome back to our April Fools’ Special!
S: For the My Little Pony/Transformers crossover.
O: Today we will go through issues 3 and 4, which will finish this little series and now on to part 1 of issue 3- Fluttershy makes friends, or [clears throat] um, ‘Pet Sounds’.
S: Fluttershy and Discord are in Fluttershy's house having a tea party, when they hear a very loud noise outside.
O: Discord, for reference, is a reformed villain in the series.  He's basically just Q from Star Trek if Q were an amalgam of a bunch of different critters all smooshed together.  (Including being played by the same actor.)  Ah, but he's good friends with Fluttershy at tha- this point in the series, presumably.
S: Outside in a crater, Soundwave emerges concluding that this world is ‘illogical’.
O: Fluttershy asks Discord if he's trying to play a trick on her, but he says even he can't think of something this bizarre.
S: Soundwave scares several of Fluttershy's animal friends, who flee into her house for safety.
O: Fluttershy attempts to calm them by saying, “No one's all bad!”  Before she catches sight of Ravage, Ratbat, Rumble, and Laserbeak.
S: Her first instinct is, “I can bond with this person!  He has PETS!!!”
O: Pretty much.  Fluttershy gathers up a few of her animal friends and flies directly over to Soundwave to introduce herself.
S: Said animal friends do not appear to be happy about this turn of events.
O: I don’t blame them!
S: Soundwave does not detect a threat from Fluttershy, but correctly detects a threat from Discord.
O: Meaning Soundwave can scan for chaos magic.
S: Well, considering Starscream, I'm pretty sure he can just scan for chaos in general.
O: [laughs] That's not a bad way of looking at it!  Soundwave begins attacking Discord, while the cassettes make a beeline for Fluttershy
S: Rumble, being the only one who can presumably speak in this group, starts badgering Fluttershy for information about this world's defenses.
O: And also, “Why does everything smell like lavender!?”
S: The Decepticons… I guess, know what lavender smells like.
O: I think the question is, do the Decepticons like what lavender smells like?
S: Very good question.  Discord proceeds to make a nu- a nuisance of himself to Soundwave, transforming into a metallic version of himself.  With puns even!
O: [snorts] Fluttershy, being Fluttershy, spots a scratch on Ravage's nose.
S: Or a booboo, as she calls it.
O: And pulls out some ‘booboo cream’ to tend the wound.
S: Ravage looks rather disarmed by all of this attention.
O: The rest of the animal cassettes all gather around Fluttershy, while Rumble is in the background getting more annoyed as he protests that it's not a ‘booboo’ it's ‘battle damage’.
S: Rumble backhands the cream out of Fluttershy's... hand?  Hoof?
O: Hoof, probably. [laughs]
S: To the shock and chagrin of the rest of the cassettes, Discord, and all of the animals in the vicinity.
O: Fluttershy gets upset because she was, “Trying to be nice!”
S: The other three cassettes turn on Rumble, as Discord transforms Fluttershy's animal friends into little robot versions of themselves.  Surprisingly menacing ones!  And they all attack Soundwave.  Soundwave gets to learn what being attacked by a dozen rabid little bunnies feels like.
O: Rumble attempts to dissuade his fellow cassettes from murder, invoking the ‘f word’.  The ‘f word’ being ‘friendship’ here.
S: Fluttershy immediately changes her tune and asks if friendship is what they really care about.
O: Soundwave responds with, “Unquestionably: Friendship superior.”
S: While being covered in a bunch of tiny, rabid, metal animals.
O: Yes.  The fighting stops, as Fluttershy says they can start over and be friends.
S: Discord points out that he could just turn them all into little pretty ponies, but doesn't.
O: The animal friends are returned to normal, and Rumble apologizes to Fluttershy.
S: Megatron coms Soundwave at this point, and tells him to meet up with the rest of the Decepticons.
O: Soundwave responds in the affirmative, but with the caveat of, “Eventually.”
S: And the final panel has Soundwave sitting down and looking on at- as his cassettes and Fluttershy frolic.
O: It is a stupidly cute panel.
S: Mm-hmm, Rumble has a bunch of bunnies in his arms.
O: Ravage is playing with a birb.
S: Laserbeak and Ratbat are both giving tiny animals rides.
O: And Discord is giving Soundwave a thumbs up.
S: It's happy communication all around.
O: Right!? Like, this is what Soundwave deserves, okay!? This is my humble opinion- Soundwave should just stay here and be happy.  I actually would pay good money for a crossover- like, a crossover fic of them.  Just Soundwave helping with like, Fluttershy's animal hospital thing.  That sounds so cute! [laughs]
S: It would be a relaxing vacation for him.
O: He deserves a relaxing vacation.  My boy deserves a relaxing vacation!  Also, just going to pause- if you guys hear creaking, I am super sorry.  But we- my neighbor is moving around a lot for some reason, and there's a lot of cranking going on here.  So, sorry you can hear that.
S: Issue 3 part 2, “The Flying Fox Trot,” begins with Rainbow Dash reclining on a cloud and chomping on an apple, content with life.
O: At least until Windblade zooms by, dissipating Rainbow's perch.
S: The two introduce themselves to each other and rainbow proclaims herself as, “The fastest in Equestria!”
O: To which, Windblade, seasoned warrior, plane with literal jet engines, asks, “Until I showed up?”  Of course, the only way to settle this is with a race, apparently.
S: Considering Rainbow Dash's personality, yeah.
O: Yeah.
S: At the starting line we get cameos from some horse-based Transformers, Mach Kick and Battle Unicorn.
O: Which, honestly, since one’s a horse and one's a unicorn, I'm just amused that these exist at all- in a toy line for boys.  And also, I kind of want them on principle.
S: They're-
O: They look amazing. [laughs]
S: With very convoluted transformations.
O: Apparently.  Because apparently, you can't, you- you- you- can take the horse out of the organic but you cannot take the horse out of a horse.
S: [laughs]
O: I know that wasn’t right.
S: You can take the organic out of the horse, but not the horse out of the robot.
O: Yes.  So it's, uh, anatomy is just about as bad as a real horse is what I'm getting at here. [laughs]  Windblade and Rainbow Dash take off and are neck and neck, figuratively speaking, since Windblade doesn't have a neck right now, but whatever.  Until they run into a gaggle of Decepticons.
S: Misfire and the Rainmakers not- well, to be specific.  And honestly that just sounds like a band name?
O: Jem and the Holograms’ new rival! [laughs] I like- great- okay, okay, I know- I know- I know that we were talking about this in our warm-up, not in the actual episode but if you want to get into weird things you can that like, fit into the Transformers-verse, arguably Jem and the Holograms takes place in the fit into the same continuity.  And in fact, there was a G.I. Joe character whose entire backstory is that he was a roadie for Jem and the Holograms, and G.I. Joe definitely takes place in the same universe as Transformers.
[Okay, so like, I’m not wrong per say, but arguably Transformers, Inhumanoids, G.I. Joe, and Jem and the Holograms all take place in the same universe due to the presence of Hector Ramirez in all four series. ~O]
S: And considering the comics, which definitely have had multiple G.I. Joe crossovers.
O: Yeah, but not Jem and the Holograms.  Like, I think the last IDW Jem and the Holograms was kind of weird because it didn't- it didn't tie in with the rest of like, the Hasbroverse.
S: Mm.
O: Anyway, I'm sorry, tangent!  It just cracks me up that's all.
S: [laughs] The Rainmakers popped up in a season one episode, in G1, when the Autobots had to visit Cybertron.
O: Misfire doesn't show up in G1 till like, very late season four, and by late I mean, season four only has like, what?  Three episodes?
S: Mm.
O: But, you know what I mean!  And he's more widely known from his IDW appearance with the Scavengers, who are ‘sirs not appearing in this comic’.
S: And also for his incredibly bad name-
B: [laugh]
S: And also for his imp- incredibly bad aim, for which, poor Misfire gets his name.
O: Rainbow Dash suggests doing the ‘Flying Foxtrot.’
S: Which Windblade, understandably, is not familiar with.
O: And I'm half convinced that Rainbow Dash made it up, but whatever!  This entire thing seems to be baiting the Cons into shooting heat seeking missiles at the two of them, and then nyrooming behind them so that the missiles hit the Cons instead.
S: The comic ends with Rainbow Dash and Windblade agreeing to a tie and sitting atop a pile of Rainmakers and Misfire.  Who all look like they are regretting their life choices.
O: They were defeated by a pony, [speaks while laughing] I would hope they were regretting their life choices! [returns to speaking normally] Issue 4, part 1, is, “Strength in Numbers,” featuring Applejack and the Insecticons.
S: It opens with Applejack being very upset that there are some giant ass bugs in her orchard, eating everything.  And, I mean, she unfortunately has a super big pest problem here.
O: Which is a bad thing when her entire income is dependent upon farming.
S: Yep.  The Insecticon horde is very happy, and surprisingly cute as they munch on delicious apples and trees.
O: Applejack attempts to chase them off in multiple ways… none of which work.
S: Spraying them with the hose, hitting them with rakes, spraying them with the hose again, and then trying to push them off the apple trees.
O: Back inside her house, she brainstorms more things to try when Discord appears out of nowhere and she too is like, “Are you playin’ a prank, Discord!?”
S: Well, if i lived in ponyverse or-
O: Equestria.
S: Equestria, I think that might have been my first thought too.
O: I mean, fair.  Giant insects are eating her apples.  Like, who else could do that but Discord on a normal day? [laughs]
S: Mm-hmm.  However, Discord says that this stuff is too mundane to be one of his pranks.
O: Applejack asks for his help.  He declines, as he'd much prefer to watch this madness, but he does summon all of the Apple Family to aid Applejack.
S: The Apple Clan is here!
O: No, really, like, ALL of them are here.  And I am not listing them off, because it's pretty much every single Apple character that appeared in the show at some point.
S: So all of the Apple Clan charge in, and I'm kind of wondering now if he like, showed up and briefed them all- just-
O: [laughs] I think they all saw through the portal, and saw bugs eating apples and were like, “My people are calling me!” [laughs]
S: My- my home needs me!
O: My home needs me, exactly.
S: Babs Seed, Big Mac, and Apple Bloom take out an insecticon by themselves by kicking it,
O: Which are Applejack's cousin, older brother, and little sister, respectively.
S: Several other Apples take out other Insecticons with ropes.
O: And an elderly Apple accidentally kicks one of Bombshell's Cerebral Shells back onto him and then orders him to go away while she's sort of flailing.
S: Accidental mind control, here we are!
O: And the day is saved thanks to the Apples, and we move on to the final chapter of the crossover fittingly called, “Finale.”
S: We open in the Crystal Empire with one of the other princesses of Equestria, Princess Cadence, as several of Twilight’s students report back to her that the Decepticons are nowhere to be found, but are likely planning an attack according to the Autobots.
O: Speaking of attack!
S: [sighs] The wall is smashed in as Megatron, Queen Chrysalis, and their allies arrive and demand that they hand over all the magical artifacts.
O: Twilight Sparkle and Optimus arrive just in time.
S: Optimus attempts to get Megatron to leave with politeness.
O: Surprising no one who's dealt with Megatron for more than 10 seconds, he declines. [laughs]
S: And with a combined call of, “Transform and trot out!” and, “Till everypony are one!”  …Oh, so grammatically incorrect.
O: [laughs]
S: The Autobots and their allies go on the offensive.
O: And I get secondhand embarrassment from those lines existing in a printed form.
S: Pinkie Pie throws a pie in poor Soundwave's face.
O: And we get a pretty great two-page spread where a variety of things are happening...
S: Rarity is riding in Arcee's vehicle mode as they launch themselves at Shrapnel.
O: Optimus is punching the crap out of Starscream.
S: Megatron orders Shockwave to just get some magical shit already!
O: Bumblebee goes on a tangent about Equestria's tasteful decor.
S: More bickering back and forth, and went- then Twilight summons the orange cap of shame onto Megatron's Fusion Cannon.
O: For reference, this is referring to the fact that Megatron with his original alt can't normally be sold without said orange cap identifying that he's not a real gun.  Which was a thing that was put into place after- or like you know, late 80’s, early 90’s.  Um, at least, you know, he can't be sold without this in the states and personally I think it's fucking hilarious.
S: And through the powers of friendship and Spike's awesome skills, the Space Bridge opens and Spike and Grimlock come through and assist.  And this is dragon Spike.
O: Yes.
S: Not human Spike.
O: Oh- to which, dragon Spike is wearing adult human Spike’s exo suit though.
S: Mm-hm.
O: To make this more confusing, how many Spikes would you like to go around?  That sounds really dirty within the fandom- and I'm gonna move right along!
B: [laugh]
S: Twilight and Optimus use alicorn magic and the Matrix in tandem to send the Decepticons home.
O: One delightful tea and Energon party later… the Autobots arrive back home themselves.
S: Optimus then explodes the space bridge behind them to protect Equestria from the Decepticons.
O: Much to the sadness of the Autobots, who enjoyed their time with their new friends.
S: Unfortunately for the ponies, Shockwave might have figured out a way to bring them to Cybertron instead.
O: And on that sequel bait, the crossover ends.  And yes, there is actually a sequel that's been announced.  In fact, I think the first issue or two might be out, and we're definitely looking forward to reading it at some point.
S: I feel like I've definitely seen a cover…
O: Other than that, what were your thoughts and feelings about this crossover?
S: The colors and such were really nice, but the cartoony style that the My Little Pony artist used for the robots didn't really work for us.
O: And we want to add, we're not saying they're a bad artist!  It was merely a stylistic option that didn't mesh well for us, specifically for the robot characters.
S: Mm-hm.
O: Um, this was further compounded by the fact that normal- like, Transformers artists that we are more used to doing comics, were also involved in other issues.  And so, they were drawing the robots better, and then the ponies also didn't look like terribly off model or something.  So it was just less distracting when they were doing it.
S: Mm.
O: Overall the special was good, and we recommend it to you if you like Transformers and My Little Pony.
S: Not that you should, you know, wait for our recommendation or anything.
O: [laughs] Uh, the Fluttershy/Soundwave chapter was a standout for both of us.
S: It was very cute, and I really enjoyed how emotive the non-speaking cassettes were.
O: I loved seeing the poor man have to deal with Discord's nonsense.
S: I feel like... we could have done with something longer having him deal with Discord’s nonsense.
O: I- yeah, it was constrained in the way that they did this, where each- there were only four issues, and each issue was- was split into two parts.
S: Yeah, and it's only 24 pages an issue or something.  So it's very- they're very minimal and very constrained.
O: Right.
S: It's just an issue with the medium.  I also really enjoyed the Spike/Grimlock chapter, because it was nice to see them both admiring each other's qualities, and supporting each other, and just being so uplifting.
O: And cute!
S: Mm-hm.
O: My second favorite was probably the Pinkie Pie chapter though, because it was just completely batshit insane.  Uh, just- again, Shockwave had a whisk and a spatula, because he was planning on eating the ponies.  I- where do I go with that?  How do I make that better!?  I can't, that's the answer! [laughs]
S: Shockwave just really wants to- to practice his, um…
O: Culinary arts? [laughs]
S: Yeah. I don't know, the implication that Cybertronians have culinary arts is- it just kind of weirds me out.
O: [continues laughing] Yeah, but- but Gauge was like, “I have a recipe!”
S: I know!  Well, that's the entire implication, it's just like, oh.  Mm.
O: I love that we probably got more actual like, culinary cannon from a fucking My Little Pony crossover than any of the other Transformers comics combined!
S: Yeah.
O: That's weird! [laughs]
S: I mean, the fact that it does come from effectively a pre-war era does mean that we'd potentially get more culture.
O: Eh, yeah.  I mean, but I don't think this was pre-war.  It seemed like it was mid-war?
S: I know, but just the fact that the uh, IDW2 is mostly pre-war.
O: Ah, that's true, that's true.
S: The characters all felt in character, the relationships were entertaining and sweet, and barring the one artist everyone was very expressive.
O: And with that, thanks for joining us for our April Fools’ special.  We hope ya’ll enjoyed, join us next time as we go back to business with episode 43, The Golden Lagoon.
S: Yay.  And that just about wraps it up for us today.  Remember to check us out on Tumblr or Pillowfort as Afterspark-Podcast, for any additional information, show notes, or links you may have mentioned.  You can also find us on Facebook and Twitter at AftersparkPod (all one word), and various other locations by searching for ‘Afterspark Podcast’ such as AO3, iTunes, Spotify and Youtube, just to name a few.  And feel free to send us questions on Tumblr, Youtube or AO3.  Till next time, I'm Specs!
O: And I’m Owls!
S: Toodles.
[Outro Music]
2 notes · View notes
hazel-writes · 3 years
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Summary: You arrive on the Finalizer and are faced with a not-so-warm welcome.
Notes: Hey y’all! This fic was originally posted on AO3, so the pre-chapter notes here on Tumblr will be a bit different. Just a heads up, I am still in the process of re-working the first half of this fic so that it is up to par with the second half. The chapters get progressively longer and better as you go on, so hang in there!
Word Count: 1,700
Warnings: none :)
﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌
Say, it's only a paper moon
Sailing over a cardboard sea
But it wouldn't be make-believe
If you believed in me
• It’s Only a Paper Moon ~ Ella Fitzgerald •
This couldn’t be the same sky I’ve looked up at all these years.
But you knew it was… and that terrified you.
Your footsteps were silent as you hesitantly made your way down the metal ramp of the small, gray shuttle that led the glistening black floors of one of the most feared ships in the galaxy: The Finalizer.
Massive windows revealed an endless expanse of space before you, and you couldn't help but stare in awe. It was strange seeing the sky like this — no sun or clouds present — all of the stars unobscured in an abyss of utter blackness. They always seemed two dimensional back on Lothal, thin as the parchment you used to sketch them on. The stars, planets, moons — they only existed on paper.
Until Now.
Here they were, spread across your vision, permeating your senses from all sides. You looked around to see if anyone else was having a similar reaction to the speckled darkness that surrounded you.
Nope, guess it’s just me then.
You shifted your focus down to your feet: your shoes, which were a natural earthy brown, stood out against the inky floor. The artificial lighting strained your eyes and you found yourself missing the natural sunlight that warmed your body back home. Here everything felt constricted, claustrophobic. And what bothered you the most was that everyone else seemed complacent, comfortable even, in the sterile box that was the Finalizer.
You finally forced yourself to focus back on the moment at hand. A uniformed woman approached you. She had a long, sculpted face with black hair pulled into a tight bun at the base of her neck.
“Welcome to the Finalizer,” she stated, with no inflection at all. “I will be showing you to your accommodation, where you will be further briefed on the terms and conditions of your stay here with the First Order.”
The way she said ‘terms and conditions’ made it seem like you were signing away something worth a whole lot more than just a temporary internship.
The woman, who you secretly nicknamed Ms. Stoney in reference to her cold, hard stare, led you down a series of hallways, each one identical in nature. You found yourself lost after the first few turns and made a mental note to pay more attention to the directions the woman was giving you.
Eventually, you found yourself in a hallway with six identical doors. Ms. Stoney pointed to the one on the right side at the very end of the hall.
“That is yours,” she solemnly directed. “You will find further instruction posted to the inside of your door. Until you are given orders to do so, don't travel about the ship, contact anyone outside of the ship, or speak to others without direct permission.”
Just then, a stromtrooper turned the corner to walk down the hallway you and Ms. Stoney were standing in. As he walked by, he nodded in acknowledgement.
"Hey!" you said, responding to the polite gesture eagerly; you were desperate for some normal human interaction.
Ms. Stoney whipped her head towards you in a piercing glare.
“Oh, sorry… I forgot.” You smiled sheepishly at her, bringing your shoulders up towards your ears. Back on Lothal, your father would always tell you how important first impressions were. You could almost hear him sigh from all the way across the galaxy.
The woman rolled her eyes with a huff. “Do you have any immediate questions?”
Finally, you thought. Your brain had been buzzing with questions ever since you arrived. Where would you be working? Who would you be working with? Why was it so kriffing cold on this ship? From the looks of it, the Order wasn't short on credits or resources, so you'd think they would be able to acquire a heating unit or two, right?
“Yes, actuall-” you started, eager to acquire some answers, but not before being interrupted again.
“Great, you can ask General Hux them when you meet him later this afternoon. I’m sure he will be happy to help." In the meantime, stay in your room. Your luggage will be brought in shortly.”
And with that, she spun on her heel, briskly walking away from you like a protocol droid, minus the good manners.
You stood there in silence and sighed. You were used to dealing with unfriendly people back home. Oftentimes your dad would have to accommodate for the occasional unfriendly customer at the shop where he sold his paintings and you would carefully watch how he handled each situation. He never raised his voice and always made sure to return a scowl with a smile. Not expecting such a response, the customer’s reaction was always the same: a flustered scoff and a frustrated beeline towards the nearest door. You adopted this method of effectively handling difficult people in your own life, this moment with Ms. Stoney included.
Who knew that a basic gesture of human kindness — one as simple as a smile — could have such a large impact?
Apparently not even you.
—————————————
You inhaled a deep breath and opened the door to your new room. It was small and cold. You didn’t mind the size; you were used to that back home. You did, however, mind the temperature, which made you to shiver and pull your sleeves over your hands. The black, windowless walls of the room made you feel even more claustrophobic than you were in the hangar. There were only a few items of furniture in the room: a surprisingly large bed, a sleek black desk, and an armchair that looked like the cause of some major future back pain.
You spotted two doors, one that led to a small refresher, and the other to a closet. Upon further inspection of the closet, you found it filled with pristine black and grey attire. A twinge of homesickness pierced your heart as you thought back to the light, comfortably rugged clothes you had grown accustomed to on Lothal.
Maybe this was a mistake…
You looked back at the entrance to your room before remembering what Ms. Stoney had told you: You will find further instruction posted to the inside of your door.
As you moved closer, you found two sheets of paper taped to the door. On one was a map of the Finalizer, and on the other was a list of the week’s “activities”. You looked closely at the rest of the schedule for the day and found three things written:
6:00 - Dinner is served in the cafeteria
7:30 - Collect ID from Block D Reception
8:30 - Meet with General Hux to receive further instruction regarding your internship
Items one and two on the list could be accomplished easily enough… But number three?
That made you nervous.
————————————
The hours passed too quickly and you found yourself staring, eyes full of dread, at a clock reading 8:15.
What was this meeting with General Hux about, anyways? I wasn’t prepared for this… not on my first day at least.
You thought back to when Ms. Stoney told you how happy General Hux would be to answer all your questions. There was something in her tone of voice that made it seem like he would be the exact opposite.
Oh well. You took a deep breath. I’ll do my best, try to act professional, and, if all else fails, simply try to smile in the face of terror.
You changed into a black turtleneck and gray trousers, tied your hair into a bun not nearly as tight as Ms. Stoney’s, and readjusted the braided bracelet on your wrist — a gift from your best friend, Cheyenne, who was back on Lothal.
With a deep sigh, shoulder roll, and a quick tip of your head, you walked out of your room and into the adjacent hallway. Studying the map that was provided to you, you began your trek to the General’s office.
As you navigated the seemingly endless hallways of the Finalizer, you passed a menagerie of stormtroopers, officers, and droids. The atmosphere was rigid and brisk — everyone seemed to have an urgent purpose, an important life-or-death matter to attend to.
It was a stark contrast to the slow, free-flowing lifestyle of Lothal; most people there recognized that with each new day came new challenges, making life unpredictable. But instead of responding to this uncertainty by attempting to control the uncontrollable, Lothalians tended to adapt, mold themselves to accommodate any given situation. They were humble this way.
And here, where change was seen as something that challenged the draconian stability of the First Order, you came to learn that the malleable lifestyle you grew so accustomed to on Lothal was considered the equivalent of a death sentence here on the Finalizer.
You re-emerged from your thoughts and found yourself nearing your destination. You rounded a corner, checking over the map you were provided with a furrowed brow.
As you attempted to concentrate on the various lines and names written on the small piece of paper, a strange feeling washed over you. It started as a small shiver, before turning into a slight prickle at the back of your neck. You swatted your hand behind you, thinking a small bug landed on you, only to remember that you were on a spaceship far above any planet where bugs would be located. You shook your head, trying to concentrate harder on deciphering the map, only to have the prickling become more intense, almost invasive.
Kriff, am I going insane?
The not-so-friendly tingle intensified enough that you decided to turn and face the invisible menace that seemed to creep its way up your spine. You moved so abruptly that a few passing stormtroopers tilted their heads towards you in curiosity.
Embarrassed at your moment of irritation and confusion, you averted your eyes and started to turn your head back in the other direction — but before you could, something caught your attention.
Or rather, someone.
——————————
Masterlist || Next
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nellie-elizabeth · 3 years
Text
tagged by: @hmgfanfic. <3
zodiac: Uhhh so I know I’m a virgo but I literally had to look up the rising/moon thing that people are always talking about. Apparently I’m “Sagittarius Ascendant” and my moon sign is Aries? I don’t know what any of this means but I have been told by people who pay attention to this stuff that I am SUCH a virgo.
height: 6′0. Or just under, like, 5′11 and 3/4.
last thing i googled: a map of north India so I could make sure that a city was where I thought it was, for a throw-away line in CPFO’s epilogue.
song stuck in my head: “work work ANGELICAAA work work ELIZA... AND PEGGY.” I was re-listening to the Hamilton soundtrack in the car yesterday for the first time in quite a while, and now those Schuyler Sisters won’t leave me alone. :)
number of followers: uhhh listen, I made this blog in 2012 and it’s basically just a smorgasbord of things I’ve liked over the years, so I’m going to guess most of the people who follow me just haven’t unfollowed out of laziness as I abandoned the hyper-fixation they followed me for in the first place. I do post cat videos, so maybe that explains the 1,025 people who have apparently stuck around.
amount of sleep: I am BABY and do not function well without sleep, so I usually try and get a solid 7.5 minimum. I don’t have insomnia. It’s hard for me to get to sleep with distractions - ticking clocks, other people in the bed with me, etc., but once I’m out, I’m really out and I sleep through the night.
lucky number: 444. Specifically the time, 4:44. It’s an inside joke with my family and it started YEARS BEFORE that Jay-Z album and has nothing to do with it. I am not superstitious, this isn’t a bible thing or a numerology thing, it’s literally just the time “4:44″. I have this number tattooed on my body and so do my parents and both of my sisters. If you happen to notice when it’s 4:44PM, you  have to send a text to the family group chat, it’s the law.
favorite song: I don’t “listen” to “music” like people are supposed to. Mostly I listen to Broadway soundtracks or podcasts if I have something playing. SO, I don’t know if this is my #1 *favorite* song, but I’ll put forward “Don’t Stop Me Now” by Queen, because if I’m in a bad mood or sleepy or I’m trying to work out and the thought of getting on the treadmill seems like a death sentence, I can just listen to this song and it immediately makes me super hyped and smiley and basically just injects a happy mood directly into my brain via earholes.
favorite instrument: Piano, and it’s for pretentious reasons, because I’m really interested in like... the language of music, and I love how deceptively simple a piano is, it’s literally just buttons and you push the button and sound comes out, you don’t have to train your fingers or get callouses or learn breath control like with brass or reed instruments. And when you’re learning to read music, the piano is this very handy and simple to understand guide, where each button makes a progressively higher note, and you can visualize the chords and scales as you’re learning them in such a straight-forward way. So piano is an instrument that anyone can play fairly easily with a bit of fiddling around, BUT, to play it well takes an enormous amount of study, and there’s a lot of subtlety that goes into a masterful performance that you wouldn’t exactly expect when you’re starting out. I used to play, but I haven’t for years and I’ve really been missing it recently.
dream job: This question stresses me out lol. I think I’m comfortable not having my job be the thing I’m the most passionate/excited about. I go to work and I enjoy my work and then I leave myself time to live my life comfortably outside of work. That’s kind of the way I like it. However, I’ve often thought about the dream *vibe* of a job, and since my name is Dani I should just go ahead and admit that whenever I’m watching Critical Role content I wish I could trade places with another Dani, the amazing Dani Carr, and work with that cast and have this fun, exciting, creatively fulfilling job with a group of people who all care about telling stories. I don’t want to be Marisha, or any of the other cast members, I specifically want to be an administrative/support role but in that kind of environment. (I used to be a stage manager and it was 100% my jam, if that helps to explain what I’m talking about).
aesthetic: I have no aesthetic! The clothing I wear? It’s just hand-me-downs from my mother, and things my mom buys me because I’m allergic to buying clothes. My house? Filled with furniture my grandfather crafted for me, and a fireplace and mantle made by my dad. So my aesthetic is the things my family has put around me because I’m too lazy to cultivate an aesthetic. I suppose, vaguely, I like sort of cottage/cabin vibes, like, exposed wood beams and fall colors and shit like that? Idk? And books? Like, the decoration in my house is mostly super nerdy shit like a map of middle earth or art pieces I bought at comic-con, and then BOOKS. I have two rather large bookshelves and then several more smaller ones, all of which are lovingly arranged, and there are books on coffee tables and windowsills and all about.
favorite animal noises: the noise my cat Alice makes when I put a hand on her while she’s sleeping, it’s like “mmmrrrph?” and it’s basically an activation noise, powering on the cat. Often she starts purring after making this noise, if I leave my hand on her and she’s comfy. Melts my heart every time. 
random: Staring at the word “random” made me suddenly convinced I’m the most boring person on the planet, like, what am I gonna say to the internet that you all don’t already assume about me? I play D&D? I’ve seen every episode of every series of Star Trek?
Oh, how about this one: I’ve used this fun fact out in the wild often with hilarious results. I can lick my own elbow. I am not otherwise particularly flexible, but I can contort my arm up to my face so that I can touch my elbow with my tongue, which apparently less than 1% of all humans can do. I tell people this in ice-breaker situations, and depending on the professionalism of the environment, I always get the joy of people’s face journeys, wondering if it would be inappropriate to ask me to demonstrate, or if they could get away with trying it to see if they’re capable. Some of you reading this probably just tried as well lol. Tell me if you discover a new amazing talent! :)
Uhhh I don’t know who has been tagged! I feel like I’ve seen everyone do this already, but please jump on it if you would like to join!
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tkaslut4ratchuk · 4 years
Text
Pending Title-Brendan Lemieux
Requested: Yes
Warnings/AN: smut, sex, fuck, whatever you wanna call it. cockwarming fersure, breeding kink if you squint and widen your eyes. First time writing/posting smut so like... also: if you see anything annoying please for the love of God and all that is holy, tell me bc I’ve been staring at this piece nonstop for the last two weeks and I’m ngl, I lost my ability to care whether or not the grammar made ANY sense.... okay... umm without any further adieu?? godimnervous
‘You have got to be kidding me,’ I thought to myself. ‘This man will be the absolute death of me.’ There he was, once again, going toe-to-toe with some asshole that I didn’t bother paying enough attention to, to catch the name of. “There he goes again,” I mutter to myself, but Elise heard me and chuckled.
“What? You don’t like it?” She asked.
“It’s not that I don’t like it, I do. A lot more than I probably should, actually. It’s just… He’s fighting… Again.”
“Yeah, I get that,” she chuckled in reply, and we went back to watching the game. ‘Well, technically the fight. I wonder if he’s aware of my feelings on it.’ Despite my mild annoyance, my eyes stayed zeroed in on Brendan until he made his way to the penalty box. After the fight, the remainder of the game passed relatively slow—though, conversation with Elise and the other WAGs helped pass the time a little easier, the had I been alone.
The game had ended and now I stood in the hall by the locker room, scrolling through instagram while I waited for Brendan to come out. ‘Maybe—just maybe—we can go home and I can work through his thick skull how…frustrated I am.’ I’m leaning against the wall when he finally opens the door and comes out. I looked up from my phone, making eye contact with him at the same time. I shook my head at him with a small smile pulling at my lips. He gave me a wide smile right back and held his arms out for a hug. “What?” He asked.
I rolled my eyes in reply as I wrapped my arms around his waist. “I’m starting to think I need to get seats closer to the box,” I say, looking up at him.
“Whatever,” he scoffed. “You find it hot!” He had a cheshire grin that graced his lips and an arm around my waist—the other hand being occupied by his bag.
“No…I find it annoying.”
He laughed at this—that cute, big belly one—causing a soft smile to break out on my lips. Pressing a kiss to my hairline, he gives a tap to my ass and suggests that we head home.
The drive home was a quiet and comfortable one, with me glancing over at Brendan every now and then, and his hand resting warmly on my thigh. Once we are at home, we went straight to the bedroom, after dropping our things at the door. We’re both getting ready for bed—me, slipping into an old shirt of his and a pair of sleep shorts and him, only just hanging his suit jacket and tie, and unbuttoning his shirt. I look over at him, watching him in the dim lighting from the bedside lamp from the dresser. ‘Such. A good-looking. Hunk of a man.’ I smile and bite my lip, making my way to where he stood in the doorway of the closet. Stepping close, I take care of the remaining few buttons, for him. I run my hands over his bare chest, taking my time up the tan expanse of his strong abdomen to lock my arms around his neck. Looking into his warm, blue eyes, I softly speak. “I love you.” Leaning up and pressing a soft kiss to his beginning-to-swell bottom lip. His strong hands—‘Damned cut-and-bruised hands from that stupid fight. Stupid hot fight. Stupid boy.’—make their way around my waist, pulling me nice and close into his warm body.
“I love you, too, baby.” I smile in reply, rising up to my tip-toes to kiss him once more. I pull away but stay close enough that my lips brush against his own, whispering, “You know, I do actually think it’s pretty hot.” And with a sly smirk, I lower myself back down, and head to the bathroom to finish my nightly routine.
After having taken off my makeup and washed my face, I was brushing my teeth when Brendan walks in, wearing nothing but a comfy pair of sweatpants, and wraps his strong arms around my waist and pulls me flush against his chest. I meet his eyes in the mirror with a knowing look, my free hand coming to rest on one of his arms and relaxing into him. He brings his lips to my ear, maintaining eye contact and mumbles, “I knew you were bullshitting.” He then placed a soft kiss on my earlobe. I sigh as I finish brushing my teeth and bend over to spit the toothpaste out, taking care to make sure my ass was flush with his crotch. His grip the tightened on my hips, pulling me closer as he bites his lip. ‘Fuck me.’
I stand back upright re-instilling that intense eye contact with his now darkened baby blues. ‘Just you wait, you sexy son of a bitch,’ I think as I begin scrubbing my tongue. His eyes darken further and he begins kissing a trail down my neck to the spot he knows will send shivers straight down my spine and up again. I moan, dropping my hand to the edge of the counter, and lean into him, a bit. “Fuck, Bren,” I breathe out, my mouth still full of toothpaste. I bend over again to spit and he takes that opportunity to grind into me, letting me feel the start of a raging hard-on. ‘Oops! Sorry, not sorry, babe!’ I barely get to wipe at my mouth before I’m whipping myself around and pulling him down to meet me for a searing kiss. His hands tightened around my waist enough to lift me and place me on the edge of the sink, immediately allowing my legs to find their rightful place around his hips. He begins grinding into my center, leaving me utterly breathless. ‘Both from this and this hot-as-fuck kiss.’ I throw my head back, releasing a wild sounding moan and he moves his mouth back to the spot on my neck. ‘Likely, to leave a mark for me to find in the morning… Not that I’m complaining, certainly not now.’ My hands begin roaming his bare chest, my nails biting lightly into his skin and my legs tighten further around his waist, letting his thick, hard cock press so sweetly against me. ‘Fuck.’ My feet make their way to his waistband, desperate to get his pants off, while my hands bring his face back to my lips. His own hands working to my shorts off. Our mouths not taking a break, tongues in a constant battle with one another.
We finally get our pants off, and Brendan moves his hands slowly up my thighs, moving to my waist and not stopping until he’s above my breasts, bringing my—his—shirt with it. He pulls away from the kiss, successfully pulling a whine from me, with him, and pulls the shirt off, over my head. His mouth begins a trek from my jaw to my breasts, sucking marks into my skin, there, while one of his hands moves to the place that’s been screaming for him since he threw his first punch, tonight. Whimpering, I grab his wrist to stop him and shake my head. “Bren, no.” ‘Fuck, I can’t catch my breath.’ His head snaps up, caught off guard. ‘He’s confused. Sweet, sexy boy.’ “That fight really did me in… I’m so wet, B. I need you.” I’m holding his gaze and smirking, which leads him to smirk right back. Brendan’s hands quickly find their place to my hips and his lips smash back on to mine. Our tongues are mimicking the fight from earlier. This is when he deems it acceptable to strike, shoving his cock deep, leaving it to rest deliciously within my walls.
We both moan into each other’s mouths. He’s stilled for moment to allow me to get used to his size. I’m clenching, I can feel him throbbing. ‘Maybe that’s just me.’ Then, all Hell breaks loose. The grip he has on my hips turns bruising and his thrusting hips show off that strength I witnessed earlier, at the game. “You like seeing me rough, baby? Huh?” he grunts in my ear. I whine in return, my eyes rolling back in my skull. “Yeah, you do. My little slut.” I clench around him, at that. “Fuck,” he grunts. “Like that? Like when I call you what you are?” He’s panting and his thrusts get rougher. “My little slut!” he punctuates that with a rather rough thrust.
“God! B…” I may as well be panting like a dog at this point. “Don’t—Don’t stop! Please…” I whine. He hasn’t moved to touch my clit, yet. ‘Does he even need to, at this rate?’
“Fuck, babe,” he grunts. My nails dig deeper into the skin on his strong shoulders, and he’s nibbling on the spot behind my ear. I could feel myself getting closer. Each thrust of his becoming more and more pronounced. “Your cunt,” thrust, “‘so perfect,” thrust, “my God, so tight.” t h r u s t.
“More,” I whimper, clenching my eyes from the intense pleasure. He slides his hand from my hip to my knee, raising it higher around his waist, allowing him to get deeper and hit the spot that had me seeing stars. I yelped out at that. “So big, Bren. Fuck!”
His grunting grows more and more, and if it weren’t for it being in my ear, I might not have noticed from how much I’m feeling. “Gonna fill you up with my cum, baby,” he grunts out, and I moaned aloud at that. “Nice and full.”
‘Am I crying, right now?!’
“So full! Please!” I cry out, choking on the pleasure-filled sobs.
“Open your eyes, baby. Look at me!” I do as he asks, meeting his beautiful eyes, and I cum—with a shout, might I add. ‘Holy fuck! He’s so pretty…surrounded by stars…’ He gives one final thrust, letting go with such a guttural groan, that it sparks another mini-orgasm in myself. ‘Fuck. I am definitely crying now, if I wasn’t already, before.’ He works us through our orgasms, slowly, as I held him tightly and as close as possible, my head nestled in the crook of his neck. He can’t detach himself from me or pullout, much less—not that he was making any move to.
We’re panting in each other’s ears, and his arms make their way around me, hands rubbing my back, up and down, in a calming fashion as I am definitely whimpering, right now. He pulls back enough to press a kiss to the top of my head. I look up and meet his eyes and he furrows his brow. “Fuck,” he whispers. “Babe, why didn’t you sa—“ I shake my head at him. 
“So good, Bren,” is all I can whimper out, before I shove my head back into his neck, knowing that I sound rightfully wrecked. I pull him close again and feel our cum start to leak from where we’re joined—it makes me twitch, just a little, around him.
Brendan starts to pull out at that, but I pull him back, looking back up at him. “No! Longer, B…” He chuckles in reply and presses a soft kiss to my forehead.
“Let’s take this to the bed, then, yeah? ‘M sure your ass has surpassed being asleep at this point.” With that, he carries me off to bed, taking care to stay connected. ‘And inside... Hmm... I should request this more often.’ He maneuvers us so that he’s on top, knowing the weight of his sturdy body brings me comfort. My arms stay wrapped around his neck, and he brings his own under my shoulders and brushes my hair and a couple stray tears from my face, kissing the dried ones.
“You okay, baby?”
I nod in reply, a sniffle slipping through. He presses a soft kiss to my lips. And then another, and another, and then we’re laying there so deeply entwined with one another, just exchanging soft, wonderful kisses.
“I love you, Brendan,” I murmur against his lips. My voice still quite wrecked.
“I love you more,” he smiles and pecks my nose. His cock shifts just so, as he does it. I whimper and clench, tight, around him. His forehead drops to mine as he lets loose a soft huff of air.
‘Is he getting hard again?! Who the hell am I kidding? Between this and all his cum, I’m wetter than a cold beer on a hot summer day…’
I whimper as I feel him harden and I buck a little into his hips. He rolls his hips into my own, successfully grinding into my clit and eliciting a whine from my lips. That’s how it continues as we find a sweet and slow rhythm. We’re barely moving but it’s just enough to get us close to plummeting off the edge again. Panting into each other’s mouths, murmuring of sweet nothings—the complete opposite end of the spectrum from how this night started, in the bathroom, no less.
“S’ good, Brendan,” I whisper against his parted lips, combing my fingers through his unruly locks. He shifts, just so, making clench tight around him and hold him close. I moan and let go for what feels like the tenth time, tonight. It take one more before he’s reached his own peak and filling me up again. ‘Fuck, that’s so good…’
He works us through our orgasms and finally pulls out, sitting back on his knees and watching as our combined essence spills out. I watch on in awe as he bites his plump bottom lip, and gives a minute shake of his head as he pushes it back in with his softening cock.
“You’re so beautiful…”
I smile back with a playful grin. “Hmm… I’ll remember that when you end up getting me pregnant.”
He smiles a beautiful wide smile and chuckles a bit, but there’s a certain look in his eye. He then leans over and presses a few gentle kisses to my lips. He pulls away, a bit, muttering against my lips, “C’mon. Let’s get you cleaned up, yeah?” I nod in reply, this time, pulling him down and pressing another kiss to his lips.
He pulls me up, out of bed and back to the bathroom to get cleaned up and to put on the clothes we had shed, earlier. We crawl back into bed and after getting comfortable, he turns the light off and we fall into a deep, peaceful slumber that only being curled up in the arms of someone you love could help achieve.
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the-omni-princess · 5 years
Text
Frozen Heart [Epilogue]
Author: @the-omni-princess
Summary:  After the war against Hydra, King Bucky comes home to take what has been promised to him since he was young, you. But he is not the same person as the young boy that you grew up with. Can she break through his tough shell and bring back the young man she once fell in love with? Or will she be forced to marry the monster everyone thinks he’s become?
Word Count: 1.7K
Pairing: King!Bucky x Fem!Reader (Royalty Au!)
Warnings: teeth rotting fluff!
A/N:
My beta @annaloveloki is literally the best and that's the t
working on a honeymoon drabble rn, but other than that, it’s the end of this series. My babies <3 lookout for another series, coming out eventually
[Series Masterlist]  [Series Playlist]  [My Masterlist]
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Growing up, summer was always one of your favorite times of the year. Waking up early to search for seashells with Steve and Bucky or sneaking ice cream into your rooms as you made pillow forts were some of your fondest childhood memories. Now, you spent the summers running the Kingdom, listening to the people, helping as many people as you could, and taking a few weeks off vacation in the South when possible. In the five years since you’ve come to the North, the kingdom has prospered. A good harvest led to a great harvest, and despite a few hiccups and arguments, Bucky was right, you were a great leader for the people. He also did an absolutely wonderful job, listening to the people to build more schools, lowering crime rates, and taxing the nobles more heavily than the lower classes. Some scholars theorized that the kingdom was in the beginning of a new golden age.
So today, like every first Monday of the month for the past few years, you sit on your throne, listening to every person who made the trek to ask for help or thank you. Some days were easy, such as the days where most residents thanked you for the new marketplace that brought jobs to their town. However, some days felt darker, like the day a mother begged for help for her dying son, help she didn’t have the funds to pay for back in her village. Not sparing a second thought, Bucky watched as you helped the boy into Dr. Cho’s arms. The boy miraculously lived, and in response, you had immediately put into place a new health policy in the kingdom. Tax revenues were split, and the extra funds made it possible for the lower class to have health services for a much lower rate, and in some cases free.
The particular woman who was speaking to you, was bringing up an argument between her and her neighbor. A petty fight, really, but you listened nonetheless, giving your opinion. Bucky was the one who answered the next inhabitant's problem.
Usually the kingdom didn’t give you too much trouble, it was mostly the advisors who defied you, never liking your ideas. Bucky, bless his heart, tended to shut them down pretty quickly, his warm voice turning into ice, the protective wolf in him lashing out. Such as the time you shot down an advisor’s idea, one that would only hurt the lower class. His anger exploded, criticizing Bucky when he tried to come to your defense. “Do you allow her to speak that way for you?” the advisor, one you truly didn’t care enough to even know his name had spoken to his king in a harsh way.
Bucky merely snarled back, “Yes, I do, this as well as in many other things, you’d be wise to remember that.” His voice was cold, the first words in his head being growled out at the man. You had placed your hand on top of Bucky’s calming him. You could practically see the steam rolling off his head, something you definitely teased him about later.
You had kept your voice calm, though the advisors that knew you better than that could hear the venom in your words. “Thank you for your concern, sir,” you emphasized his lower title, “but I do believe your King and Queen can handle the problems of the people, and I do not believe I asked for your opinion on this matter.” You quickly dismissed the rest of the meeting, before adding, “And sir, do remember, I am your Queen. You are not my equal, and you will address me as such.” Eyes wide he quickly bowed and rushed off before you could change your mind.
A small squeal from your right pulled you from your thoughts of the past, two small children rushed into the throne room, followed by two blurs of white and grey fur. You son made it to you first, scrambling to hide behind you just as you stood from the throne. You held him close, just out of reach from Aurora and Raine who yipped happily. Your daughter, however, jumped straight into Bucky’s arms, curling up into her clearly favorite parent.
“Brooklyn, what have we said about chasing your brother down the halls?” You chastised softly, still trying to calm the shaking boy wrapped around your leg.
“To plway in the garden instead,” the five-year-old responded dutifully. Bucky tucked her hair behind her ear, just as Natasha rushed in, cradling a small baby in her hands.
“Grant! Brooklyn! There you two are! You shouldn’t run away from me like that!” Brooklyn just buried herself deeper into her father’s protective arms, pouting. Natasha was most likely regretting telling Wanda it was alright to leave all three children in her care, so she could spend time with her new fiancé, the Head Chef, Vision.
“I’m sowwy auntie,” the little girl sniffled, looking up towards the two of you with tears already brimming her eyes. You knew it was just to gain your attention, so you simply did just that. You gently took the babe from Natasha’s arms, cradling the four-month-old into your chest as your son still buried his face into your long white gown.
Bucky sighed softly, gently prying his daughter’s face from his chest. “What do we say, little princess?” he encouraged, making sure she knew he wasn’t mad at her as both you and him gave her the attention she wanted.
Brooklyn sulked again but carefully pushed herself out of her father’s arms, standing in front of her twin brother. “I’m sowwy, bwutha.” She sniffled again, her tiara tilted vicariously in her hair, and Grant pouted as well. You always loved how they wore matching pouts and eyes to their father, as it reminded you of when you were a child. Brooklyn was a ball of energy, and many of her tutors said her main issue was how she could never sit still. You secretly encouraged it, knowing how much energy your future little queen would need. Grant was always the quieter one, reminding you of when Bucky first came back to you. Calculating, quiet, but eyes wide and always taking in new information. The twins knew each other perfectly, and with one sad ‘I’m sorry’ look from Brooklyn, Grant pushed forward and the two hugged each other. They curled up into each other, even when they were babies they always found a way to be close together. Two matching blue eyes looked up at you for approval, wondering silently if it was safe for them to go back to their games. You nodded, and both scrambled to the gardens to play, two adult wolves and one Natasha rushing after them.
You turned to the crowd, holding the baby closer just as she woke up from the noise. “If there aren’t any more life or death situations, I do think it is time to wrap up for today. Food will be served down the hall for anyone who did not bring their own, follow the guards if you have any trouble finding it.”
Bucky stepped closer to you, wrapping his arm around you. “And thank you all for coming,” he smiled warmly before turning his attention to you, pulling you into his arms. “And how is my little princess doing?” he coed at the babe in your arms, who simply squealed and squirmed in your arms.
“I’m doing fine, thanks for asking,” you teased, grinning up at him.
“Ha, ha, very funny, but you are my Queen, this little cutie is my little princess!” he went back to cooing at the babe, thoroughly enjoying her little shrieks of enjoyment. “My beautiful Celeste,” he kissed her nose, grinning at her responding wiggle, “And My Northern Star,” he whispered before kissing you decisively on the lips. Tender lips against yours, and not a care in the world as you held your baby close, and Bucky held you even closer.
Slowly pulling away as Celeste squirmed for attention, you both couldn’t stop the smiles on your faces.  A sudden spark in your mind made you smile even brighter. “Did you hear what Steve and Peggy are naming their child?” The two had gotten married not two years after your own marriage, and now (finally) were expecting their first child together.
“I suppose you’re bringing that up since you’re going to tell me, right?” He teased you back, his hands pressed against your hips, rubbing gentle circles into the fabric of your dress.
You nodded, biting back a smile, “Steve joked and said maybe they should name the baby James since you never have used the name anyway,” you paused, giggling as you saw Bucky’s face scrunch up, positively offended. “But, instead they wanted to name their child after Sam, since he says you stole his close friend and captain of the guard from him.”
Bucky gave you a small gasp, feigning a surprised look, ever the drama queen. “Me? Never!” He dropped the act in favor of smiling again. “Besides, he was the one who sent Sam in the first place, not my fault we became friends.” He shrugged, and you couldn’t help but laugh.
“You absolute dorks,” you kissed his nose playfully.
“But I’m your dork, y/n/n,” he whispered softly.
You nodded solemnly, like it was a big burden to bare. “That you are. Now, let’s go, My Love, we still have to pack for our trip to the beach house in the South.” You tried tugging yourself from his arms, but with a baby in your arms it was pretty hard to do that.
“I know, I know, our yearly vacation. Maybe this time we can give Brooklyn and Grant a baby brother?” he teased, smirking at the implications despite the obvious joke.
“Oh no, mister, that’s how last year’s conversation started. I just had Celeste, I am not doing that again so soon.” You gave him a look and he simply chuckled, pulling you closer as the two of you walked side by side through the halls.
“I’m kidding, My Love. Besides, we can have plenty of practice,” you couldn’t help the laugh that escaped your lips.
“Yeah, yeah, I love you too,” you nuzzled closer into his warm embrace.
“I love you even more, My Queen.” He kissed your head lightly and you realized how truly at peace you were. No more waiting, no more war. Simply two people in utterly in love, surrounded by their ever-growing family, having the time of your lives. Baby steps had become a literal phrase as the children grew up, and everything felt right in the world. Peaceful, content, full of happiness, your children’s laughter in the distance. You finally did it. The Northern Castle was finally a home again.
---
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rsbry-beret · 4 years
Text
Intent At Tuning In On You
Find it on Ao3 here!
https://archiveofourown.org/works/24191749
Tobin wasn’t trying to snoop. That should be cleared up right away- it was a real, actual accident that he found Leif’s personal laptop still open on his desk, signed into YouTube and everything.
Yeah, he hadn’t knocked before he came in like he was supposed to. Leif had a weird policy about ‘personal privacy’ and ‘I respect your space, please respect mine’. Probably because of that one time in college when Tobin had walked in on him- anyway, Tobin thought it was a stupid policy, but it was Leif’s stupid policy, so he didn’t argue.
And sure, when Leif hadn’t answered Tobin had come in, but that wasn’t unreasonable! Leif could have slipped on his immaculate and regularly mopped floors and he could be bleeding out from his head. Really, Tobin was being responsible by checking on him.
Maybe when Tobin saw that Leif wasn’t in the room, he hadn’t left immediately. Sue him, he was hardly ever in here- he and Leif usually chilled in the living room together, and between Leif’s ‘privacy, seriously Tobin, do I need to use it in a sentence?’ and the fact that they had the same work hours, Tobin didn’t usually have a reason to be in there.
Once Tobin was in the room, he happened to remember that Leif was out for groceries. Whoops? Well, if he was in there anyway he may as well look around, just to tidy up. It’d be a welcome surprise for Leif, coming back to a clean room.
Of course, the room was already spotless. Whatever.
Leif’s room was exactly what one might guess- white walls with one blue accent wall, dark wood furniture. Fucking- Tobin blinked. Three bookshelves somehow wedged in the tiny room, all bursting with a weird assortment of classic literature and graphic novels and no less than four dictionaries. The two of them had moved in at the same time, but they were both so busy trying to get all their stuff up the stairs before having to pay for an extra hour with the U-Haul that Tobin hadn’t really had the time to see what Leif’s room looked like.
There was one lone cactus sitting precariously on the window sill. Tobin looked at it and smiled.
More interestingly, Leif’s personal laptop was sitting, open, on the desk. Tobin felt himself glide over before he could even pretend to stop himself.
On the screen was a little loading bar, 98% complete, with little text that said uploading… please do not log out at this time…
The computer pinged, and set back to a YouTube homepage. Oh holy shit. This was Leif’s password-protected, ridiculously-private, undoubtedly-personal video diary.
And Tobin had access to the whole thing, right that second.
He backed away from the desk very quickly, not trusting himself not to click through and watch them all. His foot snagged on something, probably the dangerously clean hardwood floors, and Tobin fell, gracelessly, onto Leif’s perfectly-made bed with a whoomp.
<>
By the time Leif got back from the store, Tobin was sitting on the couch watching Star Trek and acting, if he said so himself, totally casual.
Leif dropped his reusable tote bag (his favorite one, with the whale decal that was made from 100% recycled materials, because he was just that kind of guy) on the kitchen counter and immediately turned around to look at Tobin, hands on his hips and ice cream left to melt rapidly outside of the freezer.
“Need any help, bro?” Tobin asked nervously.
Leif squinted. “What did you do?”
“Nothing.”
“Dude.”
“Nothing! You know, Leif, in a friendship you need to trust the other person.”
Leif sighed and turned to open the freezer. “For the record, you’re so full of shit I can literally smell it, but rocky road is more valuable to me than this conversation.”
“Ouch. Leif that was… ice cold.” Tobin tried to pay attention to Spock, and failed, like the snoopy monster he was.
“Stop,” Leif said quietly, in that strangely-fond tone of voice he only ever used when Tobin made a joke that he was trying not to laugh at.
Netflix asked Tobin if he was still there. He wasn’t sure if he was, actually, but he clicked for the next episode to start anyway.
Leif always refused to ask for Tobin’s help putting the groceries away, another weird independence thing he had, and Tobin had learned by now that if he argued with Leif on adulting-things he’d just get pissy for a few hours. As it was, Tobin paid more attention to the sound of cupboards opening and closing a few yards away from him than he did the title sequence.
Tobin couldn’t really believe he was listening to Leif doing chores instead of Captain Kirk doing… something.
Leif sat down on the couch next to him. “What episode, dude?”
“Uh…” Tobin fumbled with the remote before dropping it on the floor, batteries scattering. Leif stared. “I don’t… know?”
Silence hung heavy in the air, broken only by an urgent “beam me up, Scotty!” spoken from the screen. Slowly, Leif slid from the couch to kneel on the floor, fixing the remote and turning off the tv.
Leif sat back down next to Tobin.
“Okay, for real, what’s up with you right now?”
Tobin panicked. “I went into your room!”
Leif froze. Then, slowly and purposefully, asked “is that all?”
“I know you don’t like it when I invade your privacy and shit. Seriously, I’m sorry man…” Tobin looked at his hands fidgeting with his ring before laying his hands flat on his knees, forcing himself to look up at Leif.
“Right,” he said, still sounding cautious. “Well, thank you for telling me-“
“Your laptop was open.”
Jesus Christ, Tobin needed to learn how to shut his mouth.
Leif sat up straight, stiff, like he wasn’t sure if he should run away or something, which was- which was not good, definitely.
“As in, my laptop was open and you saw what was on the screen?”
“As in, your laptop was open and I saw that it was still on and that a video was uploading and I was really curious but-“
Leif cut him off this time, voice high as he rushed out “I am so sorry, Tobin. I didn’t want you to find out this way.” He sounded out of breath, like he just got back from jogging or was about to hyperventilate, or… well, probably he was about to hyperventilate.
Shit, he was about to hyperventilate.
“Hey, woah, Leif.” Tobin quickly scooched over, lifting his arm and laying it around Leif’s shaking shoulders, letting gravity pull him down so he was slumping against Leif.
When Leif got like this, buzzing and anxious and flighty, he needed something to keep him feeling grounded. Tobin first found out about it in sixth grade, right before their Greek mythology debate, when Leif wouldn’t stop pacing until Tobin snapped and tugged him into a tight hug.
Just like when they were eleven, Leif immediately melted into Tobin, ducking his head under Tobin’s chin and exhaling warmly against his collarbone.
They sat there quietly for a while, Tobin breathing as slowly as possible in the hopes that Leif would match it. He rubbed Leif’s back absentmindedly.
Eventually Leif spoke again, still pressed against Tobin’s chest, but words clear. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to ruin everything, and I’ll get over you, I swear, I just need more time. I’m sorry, Tobin. I’m so sorry.”
Tobin blinked. His hand froze on Leif’s back. What.
“What?”
Leif pulled back haltingly, like he didn’t want to at all. “I know you don’t feel the same, and it’s okay, because you’re my best friend first. I just don’t want to lose you, man.” Leif scratched at his neck.
Tobin blue screened
“No, wait, what? Back up, please. I have no idea what’s going on.”
Leif’s eyebrows furrowed. “You saw what was on my laptop, right?”
Tobin leaned forward slightly. “Yeah. You had your YouTube thing up, and I really wanted to look at it but I knew you’d never forgive me, so I didn’t look, but I shouldn’t have been there in the first place and I invaded your privacy and so I wanted to apologize.”
Tobin watched as Leif’s face contorted rapidly. He tried to count out all the emotions he saw there- confusion, panic, realization- before giving up. Eventually he settled on something trying to be casual but looking more horrified than anything else.
“Oh. Right. Okay, then.” Leif’s ears were bright red. He tried to stand, but Tobins hand was still half on his shoulder, so Tobin pulled him back down again.
“No. No, not okay. What were you saying, Leif?” Tobin could feel his heart, not quite stuck in his throat but up in his shoulders, tense and beating fast and too hard.
“I think you know,” he said quietly.
Tobin dragged his hand down Leif’s arm, folding around his hand. “I think I need you to tell me.”
Leif stared at their intertwined hands before looking up and meeting Tobin’s eyes. “I’m in love with you, Tobin Batra.”
It wasn’t a surprise, in hindsight. But it was different to know something, intrinsically and unquestionably, in the back of his head, than it was to hear it out loud and in the open.
Leif Donnelly was in love with him. He tried the words out in his head, curled his mouth around it silently. It felt… nice.
Leif was still staring at him, hopeful, but Tobin wasn’t done thinking yet. He held his hand tighter. “Give me a minute?”
Leif’s face fell. “Yeah, of course, dude.” He half-stood again, but Tobin didn’t let go.
“No.” Leif looked confused, torn, a little hurt. “No, stay. I just- stay for a minute while I think?”
Tobin watched as something unfolded in Leifs eyes. He sat down again, calm and soft, and held Tobin’s hand back just as tight.
Leif Donnelly was in love with him. Was he in love with Leif Donnelly? He stared at Leif’s eyes, blue and bright and shining even in the light of their shitty IKEA lamp that they bought together for Leif’s college dorm. He stared at the curve of his nose, at his lips and his floppy hair and his ears that were still a little red.
Tobin felt the weight of Leif’s hand in his hand. Tobin didn’t really want that to go away, ever. He couldn’t think of a single time he wanted that to go away, honestly, which meant that whatever he was feeling wasn’t new.
So, he was in love with Leif, and had been since before he knew what it was. Good to know.
“I’m in love with you too,” Tobin finally said. Leif’s hand went slack and his head jolted slightly, as if this was any surprise at all. “I kind of only realized right this second, but yeah, I’ve definitely been in love with you for a while.”
Leif swayed slightly, backwards and then forwards again. And then forwards more, so their noses were almost touching but not quite, and it was a little weird to try to meet his eyes, so Tobin just closed his eyes and brought his other hand up to Leif’s jaw, holding him there.
It felt nice to hold him. To just be this close to him. He wondered how he hadn’t figured this out sooner.
Well, he was glad he figured it out now, at least. No point lingering over lost time when the two of them had so much ahead of them.
“I’m going to kiss you now,” Tobin said quietly, “and then I’m going to explain to you that if I’d wanted to watch your vlogs I would’ve just hacked into the YouTube servers again, and that I didn’t because I care about you . Is that okay?”
Leif leaned forward the rest of the way, and that was answer enough.
Title from Video Killed The Radio Star by The Buggles
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